Prince Bei Jing of the Red Chamber, starting from saving Qin Keqing

The capital city, in the dead of winter.

The snow fell silently, yet it made the Ningguo Mansion shine even brighter.

The glass lanterns under the eaves lined up, illuminating the snow-covered ground as if it were daytime.

The sounds of silk and bamboo instruments linger in the distance, and the aroma of wine mingles with the scent of perfume, which can still be smelled through the many corridors.

Inside the main hall of Ningguo Mansion, it was the liveliest time of day.

Jia She, his face flushed, sat in the center, his laughter rough and boisterous;

Prince Zhongshun leaned against the brocade table, his wine cup not yet finished, but his gaze seemed to be smiling but not smiling;

The nobles toasted each other, talking about old stories in the capital, but what they really wanted to hear was each other's secrets.

All this commotion was kept out of the wind and snow.

On the lakeside path, Shui Rong, having sobered up, walked out of the main hall and came to this place.

A black sable fur coat was draped over his shoulders, and snowflakes fell on the fur trim and jade crown, quickly accumulating into a thin layer of white.

He has been in this world for two years and seven months.

From initial shock and seeking verification to current restraint and strategic planning.

A year ago, he was ordered by the emperor to go to Liaodong to inspect military affairs, and he only recently returned to the capital.

Before the assets in Beijing could even be inventoried, they were dragged into this trap.

"Your Highness, it's late and the wind is strong."

A trusted guard spoke in a low voice, presenting a fox fur coat with both hands, breaking Shui Rong's reverie.

Shui Rong didn't turn around, only saying calmly, "No need."

His gaze swept across the lake and landed on the brightest spot in the main hall—the place where all the filth and power converged tonight.

Just now.

A woman's cry suddenly pierced the air.

It was not the laughter and merriment of a banquet, nor the soft cry of a woman accidentally knocking over a wine cup, but a mournful cry that was forcibly suppressed yet still escaped—soft, trembling, and broken, like a silk thread soaked in snow water that suddenly snapped.

Shui Rong's brow suddenly furrowed, as if she had broken something.

He had seen this kind of crying in historical records.

In the official documents, in the confessions, and behind those “inner court scandals” that were only briefly mentioned.

—It's not a coincidence.

who is it?

The You sisters have not yet entered the mansion, so it is definitely not them.

Could it be... Qin Keqing?

The moment the thought crossed her mind, Shui Rong's eyes darkened.

He looked up at the guard, who had already silently leaped up and disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

Shui Rong walked silently through the snow.

The closer one got to that side pavilion, the more murky the smell of alcohol became, mixed with a nauseatingly decadent odor—this was a filthy place deliberately kept away from the banquet.

He stopped at the window, and through the crack in the window, the scene inside instantly rushed into his eyes, causing his pupils to shrink!

Through the crack in the window, the candlelight flickered, and the scene inside the room suddenly came into view.

In that instant, even Shui Rong had to admit—this woman was excessively beautiful.

The plain white inner shirt clung to her body; the fabric was thin and soft, and when illuminated by candlelight, the texture of her skin was faintly visible.

Her slender waist, barely a handful, was slightly tense due to her panic, her curves undulating, and her large breasts trembled gently with her rapid breathing.

She was pressed against the edge of the bed, with nowhere left to retreat.

Her fair skin glowed with a delicate light under the candlelight, and a few strands of black hair fell over her shoulders, making her face even more charming.

Her eyes were red and swollen with tears, her lips were bitten until they were bloodless, yet they were still so soft that they made one's heart clench.

—Qin Keqing.

Water-soluble fundus micromovements.

In the original work, she is beautiful without being ostentatious, charming without being seductive;

But the woman before him seemed to have been stripped of her "decency," leaving only flesh and fear.

The man in the room, with his back to the window, dressed in a brocade robe, was emitting a nauseating, lewd laugh.

"Little Ke'er, submit to the master!"

The man's voice was greasy and lewd, reeking of alcohol.

Qin Keqing trembled all over, tears streaming down her face like broken pearls, and she sobbed and pleaded:

"...No!...!"

"So what?"

Jia Zhen laughed even more wildly and reached out to grab Qin Keqing's clothes.

"Today, Tianxiang Pavilion is a forbidden area of ​​my Ningguo Mansion. No one but my trusted confidants is allowed to enter! You have no way to escape!"

Forced to look up, Qin Keqing's tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking her clothes.

The plain white fabric was soaked through and clung to her body, which only made her slender and tall figure stand out even more.

His voice was choked with sobs and almost incoherent:

"Please...please...sir...please...spare me..."

Her face was as pale as paper, and even the rouge on her lips was washed away by tears.

She swayed precariously, as if she were about to faint at any moment; her frail and helpless appearance was truly heartbreaking.

Shui Rong understood what was going on, but he still hesitated.

If I save her, will it create an obstacle to the development of the subsequent plot?

Will the term "butterfly effect" come into play?

But time did not stand still for his thoughts, and the struggle inside the room intensified.

"Master...you mustn't...what if someone finds out..."

Qin Keqing seemed to suddenly remember something, her sobs tinged with a desperate hope, as she trembled and raised her last resort:

"Prince Bei Jing...the prince is still in the manor...I beg you, for the prince's sake, please spare me..."

Upon hearing the words "Prince Bei Jing," Jia Zhen paused for a moment, then burst into an even more rampant and lewd laugh, filled with disdain and smugness:

"he?"

"By now, they're probably completely drunk and unconscious; how could they possibly care about what's going on here?"

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly pushed Qin Keqing down onto the bed and pounced on her like a hungry tiger, pressing his large hand firmly on her shoulder and trying to tear off her clothes!

"Rip—"

The plain white fabric was torn, revealing a small patch of snow-white skin.

Qin Keqing let out a heart-wrenching cry, and the last glimmer of light in her eyes went out completely.

Outside the window, the chill in Shui Rong's eyes froze completely, turning into piercing ice blades.

He was an outsider, but a vibrant life should not be trampled on like this!

He raised his foot and kicked hard—"Bang!"

The carved mahogany door swung open with a loud crash, and amidst the flying sawdust, a biting wind carrying snowflakes rushed in, causing the candlelight inside to flicker violently.

The two figures inside the room were stretched and shortened by the light and shadow, looking disheveled.

Jia Zhen turned around abruptly, his lewd smile still lingering on his face. But when he saw the figure in the doorway, dressed in a moon-white brocade robe with an aura as cold and stern as an ice peak, his whole body suddenly stiffened like a clay sculpture, and even his breath seemed to stop.

"presumptuous."

The two words were uttered from Shui Rong's mouth, not loud, but like an icicle breaking through the snow, chilling to the bone.

The snowy night was silent, except for the murderous intent emanating from that tall figure, which permeated the room, making it suffocating.

All of this was observed by a masked figure behind the artificial hill in the courtyard.

Those were none other than the servants of Prince Zhongshun, the attendants sent to monitor Prince Beijing's movements.