Chapter 054: Go Away! I Don't Need Your Help!

At the second watch of the night, Xiao Jiu left the study and returned to his room to sleep, but Jin’er remained beneath the lamplight, absorbed in her studies. The dim, yellow glow fell softly on her pale face, casting a silhouette from her long, thick lashes—vivid and enchanting.

After some time, fatigue overtook her and she stifled a yawn, standing up to make her way to the privy. The privy stood diagonally opposite her room, just across the courtyard.

Tonight, too, was a moonless, windy night. The autumn wind was bleak, and Jin’er, dressed thinly, could not help but shiver. The lantern at the privy door spread a faint, yellow light, bringing a trace of brightness to the pitch-black courtyard.

As she stepped out from the privy, the corner of her eye suddenly caught a pale figure swiftly darting into the stairwell. Jin’er frowned, peering carefully, but everything had returned to normal—nothing seemed amiss.

Had her eyes deceived her? Or was there something else? At the thought, Jin’er shuddered, a chill running down her spine.

It must have been her imagination; there was nothing at all. Shaking her head to banish the unease, she made her way back to her room. Yet as she lifted her gaze, she was startled to find her room shrouded in darkness.

What was going on? Could it really be something supernatural? Jin’er’s brow furrowed as she quickly dismissed the idea. Impossible—it must have been the wind that snuffed out the lamp. Or... could it be that scoundrel Mo Yan?

At the possibility, her nerves eased somewhat.

Reaching her door, she found it closed. She hesitated, then raised her hand to push it open.

The lamplight from the privy could no longer reach inside, and before her stretched utter darkness.

“Mo Yan, is that you?” Jin’er called softly, but no answer came.

Frowning, she ignored everything else and groped for the tinderbox on her desk.

The moment her hand touched the tabletop, she brushed against something icy and slick! That long-lost, yet familiar sensation sent goosebumps racing across her skin.

Before she could react, instinct made her snatch her hand back and stumble hurriedly away.

A snake! How could there be a snake in her room? How could that revolting thing she loathed most be here?

Terrified, Jin’er retreated, but in her panic she bumped into a chair and crashed to the floor.

A piercing scream tore from her throat—she felt the serpentine body beneath her, and before she could react, the snake twisted and sank its fangs viciously into her thigh.

“Ah! Get away! Go away!” Jin’er was on the verge of collapse. Struggling desperately, she tore the snake from her leg and staggered toward the door. In her panic, her foot caught on the threshold and she fell hard.

Pain flared in her elbow and palm, but she could not care about that now. Sobbing and screaming, she crawled frantically away, as though the inferno of hell itself pursued her.

Though she had grown accustomed to poison trials in the past, it never meant she felt any less revulsion. And now, so long without such ordeals, all that remained in her memory was the shadow of fear.

She was most terrified of being bitten by a snake in darkness—especially the feel of their cold, slimy bodies. It nearly drove her to the brink of a breakdown.

“Jin’er! Jin’er, what’s happened?!” Xiao Jiu heard her screams and, not bothering with a robe, leapt out of bed and rushed downstairs in his underclothes, with Qin’er close behind.

He ran to her side, crouching down to cradle Jin’er, who was curled up trembling and pale by the pillar, and anxiously soothed her, “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, I’m here, I’m here.”

Jin’er clung to him, shaking, her tear-filled eyes fixed fearfully on the door. Memories of past horrors flooded her mind—she could not control herself.

“What happened? Jin’er, did you have a nightmare? Why are you so cold?” Xiao Jiu frowned, holding her tightly, hoping to calm her.

Qin’er stood to the side, glaring at Jin’er with resentment, wishing she could kick her away.

After a while, sensing Jin’er had calmed a little, Xiao Jiu lifted her in his arms. “There, Jin’er, I’ll carry you back to bed.” He stepped toward her room.

Before Jin’er could react, Qin’er blurted out, “Senior brother, wait! There’s a snake inside!” Realizing what she’d said, her face changed and she bit her lip, lowering her head with a deep frown.

At her words, Xiao Jiu stopped at once, turning to her in confusion. Jin’er, whose eyes had been glazed, suddenly widened them, whipping her head around.

“It was you!” Jin’er spat through gritted teeth, her beautiful eyes flashing with icy rage.

Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? She’d seen a suspicious figure, then the lamp in her room had gone out—far too strange. Wasn’t there someone here who wished only for her death?

Qin’er shivered under her gaze, shaking her head desperately. “No, it wasn’t me! I had nothing to do with it.” Frantically searching for an excuse, she caught sight of the blood droplets on the floor. “I saw she was hurt, so I guessed there was a snake inside!”

Xiao Jiu, frowning, followed her gaze and indeed saw dark, red-black blood on the ground. He hurriedly checked Jin’er and found blood seeping from her thigh. Alarmed, he turned and ran with her toward his own room.

Jin’er bit back her pain, glaring at Qin’er trailing behind Xiao Jiu, wishing she could tear her limb from limb. Qin’er, too, glared at her, a flicker of twisted satisfaction in her eyes.

That was an extremely rare viper—surely she couldn’t survive!

But Qin’er missed one detail. The snake vendor had told her that anyone bitten by this snake would die within the blink of an eye. Yet aside from fright, Jin’er showed no signs of poisoning.

Xiao Jiu carried Jin’er back to his room, laid her on the bed, and bent to examine her wound.

“Get away!” Jin’er darted from his grasp, huddling against the wall in the corner of the bed.

“Jin’er, you’ve been bitten by a snake, and your blood’s black—it must have been venomous. Let me treat it now, or it’ll be too late!” Xiao Jiu pleaded, reaching for her.

“Go away! I don’t need you! Get out, all of you! Leave me alone!” Jin’er lashed out like a wounded beast, unwilling to let anyone near. Her eyes were red with rage and shock, her hair disheveled, making her look almost wild.

“Jin’er, be good, let me help you. Once you’re well, you can do as you wish,” Xiao Jiu begged, frantic with worry for her life.

“Qin’er, help me,” he urged, beckoning her over to restrain Jin’er.

Qin’er pouted, reluctantly shuffling over. At that moment, another servant from the courtyard arrived, drawn by the commotion.

The three of them gathered around the bed, trying to hold Jin’er down.

Jin’er fought back with fists and kicks, screaming hysterically, “Get away! I don’t need you! I won’t die! I said I won’t die, and I won’t! Let me go!”

Her sudden shriek was so sharp it made their ears ring. All three winced and let go, retreating a few steps.

“My ears are ringing,” Qin’er muttered, clutching her ears in annoyance.

“With strength like that, she doesn’t seem poisoned at all,” the servant remarked, rubbing his ears in confusion.

His words made Xiao Jiu pause. Indeed, she showed none of the symptoms of poisoning.

Qin’er was the most surprised—now she remembered what the snake seller had told her.

How could this be? How could she be fine when her leg was clearly wounded? Was it not a snake bite?

“Come with me!” Qin’er grabbed the servant and dashed out the door.

“Jin’er, are you really all right?” Xiao Jiu gazed at her in concern.

Jin’er curled into the corner, hugging her knees, her breath coming in gasps as she stared at him, tears welling up once more.

Why? Why use such venomous means to harm her? She hadn’t fought for anything, she only wanted to stay here—so why try to kill her again and again?

“Jin’er...” Xiao Jiu’s heart ached at her look of utter sorrow, as if clenched by an invisible hand. He longed to gather her in his arms, to promise to protect her, love her, never let her be afraid again. But before he could move, Jin’er cried out anew.

“Stay away! It’s all because of you! All of it! Get out!”

Xiao Jiu froze in place, as if turned to stone, unable to approach or retreat, his mind a tangled mess.

Because of him? Why would she say that? What was happening?

“Senior brother! Senior brother!” Qin’er burst in, the servant behind her carrying a lantern.

Xiao Jiu turned to see Qin’er holding a pair of iron tongs, pinching a snake nearly six feet long. Frowning, he looked to Jin’er and saw her glaring coldly at the snake with undisguised loathing.

“Senior brother! The viper is dead!” Qin’er panted, utterly shocked.

“Dead? What do you mean?” Xiao Jiu asked, bewildered.

“We didn’t kill it—it was already dead when we entered! There were two: the one on the desk was alive, but the one on the floor was already dead!” It was utterly bizarre—Jin’er survived the bite, yet the snake died. What on earth was going on?