At the critical moment, Wen Zheng twisted his body to the side and dodged the strike.
Quan Heng missed and fell to the ground. Wen Zheng instinctively tried to help her up, but as soon as she rose, she came at him again, eyes filled with murderous intent.
“Wen Zheng! Now that my parents and loved ones are suffering, you keep me locked up here, unable to do anything, reduced to your pet! I’m telling you—I, Quan Heng, will never surrender!”
Seeing her draw nearer, Wen Zheng seized her wrists and squeezed tightly.
Quan Heng gasped in pain and had no choice but to loosen her grip. Wen Zheng immediately snatched the shard from her hand and hurled it far away.
“I already removed everything sharp from your room. How did you still get this? Those maids must have been careless—I’ll punish them later.”
At that moment, Quan Heng stared at the shard in the distance, and her final shred of hope crumbled.
She had prepared for so long, steeled her heart so completely. She’d even planned that once Wen Zheng was dead, she would visit her parents one last time to confirm they were safe—then end her own life to atone for his.
But her strength was laughable to Wen Zheng. Even injured, he could still restrain her with ease, like a giant brushing away an ant.
Collapsing onto the floor, Quan Heng sobbed until she had no strength left. “Wen Zheng, please let me go. I’d rather die than be imprisoned by you for the rest of my life.”
Looking at her lying there in utter despair, Wen Zheng felt a numb, hollow ache in his chest.
He had never intended to keep her locked up forever. Once the chaos outside settled, he fully planned to release her.
But he couldn’t tell her what was really happening.
If she knew the Yongning Marquis family had already left the capital and were on the road home, she would chase after them without hesitation. If the emperor discovered her whereabouts, she would surely be in mortal danger.
Worse still, if she showed herself, the emperor would follow the trail and expose the entire Marquis Manor’s escape. All their efforts would be for nothing.
And now, she wouldn’t listen to anything he said.
With her so completely unhinged, how could he possibly let her go?
At that thought, the pain from Wen Zheng’s wounds flared up again.
On the way here, he had started burning with fever. Now his vision was going dark—he was about to lose consciousness.
The next second, his knees buckled and he collapsed—falling right on top of Quan Heng.
Startled and frightened, Quan Heng immediately thought of the night not long ago when he tore at her clothes. Terrified it was happening again, she pushed at him with both hands.
But he didn’t budge. Wen Zheng stood eight feet tall and practiced martial arts year-round. How could a sheltered woman like her hope to move him?
Then, as she pulled her hand away, she sensed something was wrong.
In the candlelight, she saw her hand was covered in blood—not hers, which meant it had to be his.
He was wearing black today; the blood had blended in, invisible until now.
Only then did she realize—Wen Zheng must have been gravely wounded all along. Earlier, when he lunged at her, it wasn’t to assault her, but because he’d lost strength and collapsed.
She had steeled herself to kill him, yet now, seeing how badly injured he was, she couldn’t understand why—but her heart ached again.
“Ah Zheng… is this the ending you wanted for us—to look at each other with nothing but hatred?”
Gritting his teeth, Wen Zheng forced himself up from her body and sat to the side. “Ah Heng… if you could… would you believe me, just once? Everything I’ve done, I had my reasons. One day, you’ll understand.”
Quan Heng gave a bitter laugh. “Still saying things like that now? You think I’ll believe you? If I couldn’t kill you today, then just kill me! As long as you keep me by your side, I’ll never stop hating you. I’ll wait day and night for a chance to strike, until one day, I succeed—and you die.”
The final word—die—was squeezed from the very depths of her throat.
At that moment, it was as if in her eyes, he was no longer her former lover, but her sworn enemy.
If that was the case—if she truly wanted to kill him—then perhaps he should grant her wish.
Wen Zheng’s eyes turned bloodshot. Word by word, he said, “You really want me dead?”
Quan Heng sneered, “Of course. I wish you would drop dead this instant—then I’d finally be free.”
“Good. Then I’ll give you what you want.”
Wen Zheng grabbed the shard nearby, pressed it into her hand, and guided her arm so the porcelain point rested against his chest.
“If you truly hate me so much—if you really want me dead—then do it. Now.”
Quan Heng froze.
Wen Zheng gripped her hand and began driving it into his chest. “Kill me!”
The shard was sharp—part of it had already pierced his flesh. Quan Heng could hear it cutting into him.
“You’re insane!”
She struggled instinctively, using all her strength to resist him, not letting him push the shard any further.
Wen Zheng gave a pained, bitter smile. “Ah Heng, didn’t you say you hate me? I’ve only ever loved you in this life. But if I can’t hold your heart even while keeping you near… and now it’s come to this—then let me die by your hand. I won’t blame you.”
“You really are mad! You think this will make me forgive you? Dream on!”
She knew that, alone, she had no real chance of killing him. But now that he was offering himself up, she should take the chance.
At that moment, she stopped resisting and let Wen Zheng guide her hand toward his chest.
Suddenly, she heard him groan low in his throat. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips.
She looked up—and saw those blood-red eyes.
He was crying.
His eyes brimmed with tears, filled with emotions she couldn’t understand. And inexplicably, her heart twisted again.
In that instant, memories of their past came flooding back.
The first time he acted for her—when he punished Chunhua—he nearly lost control.
She called out to him then, and he turned to her—his eyes red, just like now, almost no different.
Later, when she woke in the middle of the night, she would always find him sitting by her bedside, looking at her with those same eyes—as if he feared she might vanish the moment he blinked.
She never said anything.
But she always knew.
He was always there.
At first, she would wake up and tell him to leave. Later, she pretended to sleep, eyes shut, wanting to see when he would go.
But he always waited until dawn.
Only when the servants began to stir outside would he finally leave—quietly slipping out the window before anyone could see.
It was only a fleeting moment—but so many fragments of the past resurfaced all at once.
She admitted—she had truly loved him, without the slightest trace of pretense.
Snapping back to reality, looking at that familiar face, at the devastation in his eyes, she found she could no longer bring herself to do it.
Summoning a sudden burst of strength from who knows where, Quan Heng gripped the shard of porcelain tightly and broke free from Wen Zheng’s grasp.
Then, she slammed the bloodstained porcelain piece onto the ground, shattering it completely—it could no longer harm anyone.
She stood up, turning her back to him, her voice trembling. “Wen Zheng, leave. I won’t kill you.”
She hated herself. Even though he had imprisoned her, thrown her entire family in jail, even caused the death of her closest maidservant—still, she couldn’t bring herself to kill him.
“From now on, let’s have nothing more to do with each other. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
But unexpectedly, Wen Zheng also stood up and pulled her into a tight embrace from behind.
“Nothing more to do with each other? You wish. You chose not to kill me—it was your decision. I already gave you the chance.”
He forcibly turned her body toward him and kissed her, not giving her the slightest chance to resist.
Quan Heng struggled, biting his lip with all her might. But the more she resisted, the more he refused to let go.
The bloody kiss lasted a long time—so long that they both were nearly out of breath before they finally separated.
The next second, Quan Heng gave Wen Zheng a hard slap.
“Just because I didn’t kill you doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want! I hate you. Do you understand that?”
Wen Zheng touched the side of his face where she’d slapped him and laughed. “You hate me? That’s fine. You’re mine now—for life. We have a whole lifetime to torment each other. Whether love or hate—it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re by my side, that’s enough.”
With that, Wen Zheng walked toward the door. “Next time I find you hiding shards of porcelain, I’ll beat every maid who serves you to death.”
As the door closed behind him, Quan Heng collapsed onto the bed, completely drained, and burst into helpless sobs.
She hated herself so much.
Hated her own weakness. Hated her own helplessness. From now on, even the last thread of hope was gone. There was no longer any chance of escape.
***
After leaving the room, Wen Zheng found a nearby chamber and treated his wounds.
Ripping open the fabric at his chest, he revealed a gash over his heart—horrifying to look at.
Yet as he touched the wound, though there was pain, there was also a subtle hint of secret joy.
At least, Ah Heng hadn’t driven the shard all the way in. She still couldn’t bring herself to kill him. That meant—he still had a place in her heart.
He believed that one day, when all of this settled, he would personally return her family to her, safe and sound, and explain everything that had happened.
By then, all misunderstandings would vanish like smoke.
After drinking the medicine the servant had prepared, he fell into a deep sleep.
When he woke again, it was already the next day. The fever had broken, and his mind felt clearer.
He looked out the window. It was still dark. Quietly, he slipped out of the room and went to Ah Heng’s quarters.
After he’d left yesterday, Ah Heng had curled up on the bed and fallen asleep. She was still asleep now.
Perhaps feeling insecure, she had curled tightly into herself, with fine beads of sweat on her forehead. She didn’t seem to be sleeping peacefully.
If he could, he would have stayed to accompany her a little longer.
But today was the agreed meeting with General Zhenbei. He had to go.
His father, the emperor, was becoming more and more tyrannical and unhinged. If he didn’t start making preparations, he wouldn’t even be able to protect himself—much less protect Ah Heng.
With a heavy sigh, he quietly closed the door and left the manor.
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