“Beautiful sister, you’re so pretty!” the little girl chirped.

Ye Qingge froze. For a moment, her heart clenched painfully — deep, unexplainable.

If the original Ye Qingge could hear this… she would’ve cried with joy.

A girl once known throughout the capital as the “ugliest of all,” now being called beautiful — by a child too pure to lie.

“Jingjing! There you are — I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

A woman came rushing down the corridor, panting for breath. When she saw Ye Qingge, she stopped awkwardly. “Ah… Third Miss. Jingjing, come here — don’t bother the young lady.”

“Mother, hug me!” Jingjing laughed and threw herself into her mother’s arms.

The woman took her, bowing slightly toward Ye Qingge. “It’s late, Third Miss. The night air’s cold — it’s unsafe for you to be out alone.”

Ye Qingge smiled faintly. “Jingjing’s adorable.”

The woman’s words carried double meaning — this was her family estate. Unsafe?

Interesting.

Ye Qingge turned and made her way back toward Fengyue Pavilion. Until the Grand Elder returned, her top priority was survival.

But before she reached the door, a familiar silhouette appeared under the moonlight — slim, graceful, dressed in deep violet silk. Her dark hair was half-pinned with a jade hairpin that chimed sweetly as she moved.

Ye Qingqing.

As Ye Qingge approached, Ye Qingqing suddenly grabbed her wrist — her nails digging in. Her gaze was sharp, voice trembling with rage.

“Lühe says you’re not the real Ye Qingge. Who the hell are you?”

“Who I am,” Ye Qingge said coolly, “has nothing to do with you.”

She smirked. “You’ve tried every trick to poison me, just to get close to the Little Prince. But even if you win his favor and enter the royal manor, you’ll still be nothing but a concubine. Bastards will always be bastards. Kill me, and that won’t change.”

The single word bastard struck Ye Qingqing like a slap.

Her face twisted, eyes blazing. She raised her hand to strike, but Ye Qingge moved faster — catching her wrist and twisting it back in one smooth motion.

She might lack spiritual energy, but her combat skills were unmatched.

“Without the Grand Elder,” Ye Qingqing spat, her voice breaking, “you’d have no place in this family — or this kingdom!”

Ye Qingge released her grip and opened the door to her room. Standing in the doorway, her back turned, she said quietly:

“Without the Grand Elder, there would be no Ye family.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a cold smile curving her lips.

“Instead of wasting time hating me, you should focus on making yourself worthy of the Little Prince’s attention.”

Bang!

The door slammed shut.

Ye Qingqing stood frozen, her hair disheveled, her eyes red with fury.

From the shadows, Lin Chen appeared, his expression torn between tenderness and despair. He stepped forward and helped steady her trembling form. “Qingqing, it’s late. Go rest.”

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, jerking away. Her eyes blazed like fire. “You lowly dog! You dare call me by name? You said you love me — then prove it. Go kill Ye Qingge. Otherwise, don’t ever show your face to me again!”