"My love, write this down," Luo Binghe says urgently. "Write something down, quickly, in case she—" Oh. Write something down, like Shen Yuan must have done in the library. Aornis III. The third time she had done something to Shen Yuan—and that was months ago. His blood runs cold. His grip tightens on Xin Mo's hilt, but he doesn't yet draw it; he does not intend to do so until he's ready to use it. "Remind me of the insult, so I may say it again."