The Third Prince came back with a woman from Great Qian.
The Third Prince came back with a beautiful woman from Great Qian.
The Third Prince went hunting and came back without prey, but instead brought back a beautiful woman from Great Qian.
In just half a day, rumors had swept through the entire Tayuan royal palace—even the King of Tayuan was alerted. Compared to the noise outside, the Rinuan Pavilion where Feizhan stayed was peaceful. A few servants quietly cleaned the courtyard, while the bedroom door remained tightly shut—leaving plenty to the imagination.
Inside, Feizhan personally brewed a bowl of milk tea over a small stove. Once it had cooled enough, he handed it to Feng Lezhen. “Try it.”
Feng Lezhen glanced at the bowl. In the thick white tea floated roasted grains and strips of beef jerky, along with some unidentifiable ingredients. Now that it had cooled a bit, a thick layer of milk skin had formed on top. It actually looked somewhat appetizing.
Under Feizhan’s smiling gaze, she accepted it and took a small sip, lowering her eyes. The strong gamey taste hit her senses immediately.
Seeing her frown, Feizhan laughed aloud. “What, too strong for you?”
Well-bred as she was, Feng Lezhen didn’t spit it out but swallowed slowly. Then she stared at the bowl for a while and took another sip.
This time, Feizhan was genuinely surprised. Tayuan’s milk tea was known for its pungent taste, and most Great Qian people couldn’t stand it—especially someone like her, used to the refined cuisine of nobles. The fact she hadn’t spit it out was already a show of respect, but he hadn’t expected her to drink another mouthful.
Feng Lezhen sipped slowly, one mouthful at a time. When only the thick dregs were left at the bottom of the bowl, she extended a hand toward Feizhan. He paused for a moment, then immediately passed her his dagger.
Feng Lezhen gave a faint smile, then reluctantly used the blade to spear a piece of beef jerky and ate it.
“At first it was too gamey, but after a few sips, the richness and depth came through. With the beef jerky…” She let a small curve lift her lips. “It’s not bad. No wonder the people of Tayuan like it.”
Feizhan, seeing how seriously she was tasting it, was momentarily speechless. After a while, he said with a half-smile, “I thought you’d at least make a few snide comments.”
“Why would I belittle it?” Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow slightly. “Each region has its own environment, its own cuisine. If the people have chosen and passed it down for generations, it must have its merits. If I can’t get used to it, the problem lies with me—what fault is there in the food itself?”
Her voice was clear and calm, composed and measured. Feizhan chuckled and leaned lazily against a pillar. “As expected of the beauty this prince fought tooth and nail to snatch back—your words are just so pleasing to hear.”
Feng Lezhen cast him a sidelong glance, too lazy to respond.
The two stayed inside the room until evening. The fullness from the milk tea had long since faded. Feng Lezhen set down her book and looked up at Feizhan.
Feizhan smiled. “Hungry? Then we’ll need to make a few preparations.”
Feng Lezhen’s gaze lifted slightly at the corners.
—
A quarter hour later, Feizhan kicked open the door, impatiently calling for someone to bring in hot water and food.
The servants had already prepared everything. Hearing his voice, they immediately brought the items into the room—only to see clothes shredded all over the floor. As they stepped further in, the thick scent of blood hit them. Startled, they quickly lowered their heads, but out of the corners of their eyes, they glimpsed a canopy bed behind a curtain, faintly stained with red.
Occasional sobs drifted from behind the curtain. The servants pretended not to hear, quickly setting down the items before hastily retreating.
Once the room was quiet again, Feizhan slowly closed the door and turned to look at the now-silent bed. “If you don’t come down soon, the food will get cold.”
After a brief silence, Feng Lezhen’s cool voice came from the bed: “You tore my clothes to shreds—how am I supposed to come down?”
“How shredded could they be?” Feizhan said carelessly as he approached, pulling open the bed curtain. What he saw was Feng Lezhen’s robe in tatters—barely covering her front, while her fair arms and legs were exposed.
Feizhan’s gaze darkened. “Your Highness the Eldest Princess really is a rare beauty.”
Feng Lezhen looked up coldly. “Get out.”
Feizhan let out a chuckle, turned away, and pulled a sleeping robe from the cabinet, handing it to her. Only after she put it on did she come down to eat.
The dinner was very simple: a plate of flatcakes, a bowl of lamb soup, and assorted beef and mutton.
“No vegetables?” Feng Lezhen frowned.
Feizhan replied, “Tayuan people don’t like vegetables. Just make do for now. I’ll go pick some from my mother’s palace for you tomorrow.”
Feng Lezhen only took one flatcake. Feizhan didn’t press her and finished off most of the meat himself.
After dinner, Feng Lezhen wanted to bathe.
Though Feizhan’s sleeping quarters were spacious, they lacked separate inner and outer chambers. The bath was placed behind a folding screen—but Tayuan’s screens were rougher than those in Great Qian and too short to provide full coverage, barely concealing Feng Lezhen’s collarbone. With just a slight lift of her gaze, she could clearly see Feizhan outside.
“Should I turn around?” Feizhan asked, though his gaze lingered, resting quite tangibly on the gauze still wrapped around her neck.
Feng Lezhen shot him a glance, expression calm as she undressed. Her fair, elegant collarbones came into view under his intense gaze. His eyes darkened, but he didn’t look away—watching her with keen interest.
The water that had been brought in earlier had cooled to a perfect temperature, but after Feng Lezhen had finished a quick wash, it was completely cold.
Feizhan didn’t mind. After she finished, he used the same water for a quick rinse. When he returned, still dripping wet, he saw Feng Lezhen standing beside the bed with a frown, staring at the mottled bloodstains on the sheets.
“What is it?” he asked.
Feng Lezhen glanced at him, then let her eyes trail from his chest ornament to the freshly cut wound on his arm. After a pause, she said coolly, “If you want to fool others, blood on the bed alone isn’t enough.”
Feizhan chuckled lightly. “For this prince, blood alone is plenty.”
Feng Lezhen paused, eyes shifting thoughtfully toward him.
“Your Highness should rest,” Feizhan said. “If nothing goes wrong, someone might lose patience and come calling tomorrow.”
As he spoke, he tossed the bloodstained sheets aside and gestured toward the bed.
Feng Lezhen didn’t make a fuss and lay down directly. But no sooner had she settled in than a certain someone climbed in after her.
“Sleep on the floor,” she said.
Feizhan smiled and closed his eyes. “Oh come now, Your Highness. What if someone peeks in?”
“If you can’t even secure your own quarters, you might as well send me back to Yingguan,” Feng Lezhen’s voice turned cold.
Hearing the seriousness in her tone, Feizhan opened his eyes and stared at her for a while before giving in.
Seeing him obediently return to the floor, Feng Lezhen finally closed her eyes.
The two of them had spent two to three days on the road, followed by an afternoon of performing. Now both were thoroughly exhausted and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Rumors had started the moment they entered the palace and only grew wilder overnight. As Feizhan predicted, early the next morning, someone could no longer hold back and came knocking—but it wasn’t just anyone. It was none other than Feizhan’s biological mother, Luo Ying, one of the three consorts the King of Tayuan had brought back from Great Qian.
When Feng Lezhen heard that Luo Ying had arrived, she and Feizhan were still having breakfast in the bedchamber. A flicker of surprise passed through Feizhan’s eyes. He set down his chopsticks and left. Feng Lezhen calmly continued eating. By the time she was nearly done, Feizhan returned, brows furrowed.
“She wants to see you,” were the first words out of his mouth.
Feng Lezhen gave him a glance and slowly set down her chopsticks. “Lead the way.”
Feizhan let out a rare sigh, genuinely a bit troubled, and led her out as he explained, “My mother is simple and soft-hearted. She’s no good at lying. Whatever you do, don’t let her find out the truth between us. If she gets tricked into spilling something, the consequences will be disastrous.”
“Mm,” Feng Lezhen had eaten more than usual that morning and now felt a bit languid, not in the mood to say much.
Feizhan warned her a few more times, then looked up and saw the indifferent and regal expression on her face.
“…Your Highness,” he said with rare helplessness, in a voice low enough that only the two of them could hear, “you were forcibly taken here. Could you maybe stop acting like you’re the master?”
“Just because I was kidnapped, I can’t act like the master anymore?” Feng Lezhen gave him a glance and walked into the side hall.
Feizhan tugged the corner of his lips and had no choice but to follow her in.
Luo Ying was already waiting inside. At first sight of Feng Lezhen, she was struck by her beauty—then immediately realized this was the girl her son had abducted. Her eyes were already red, clearly from crying, and now facing Feng Lezhen’s gaze, her eyes reddened even more.
“You’ve suffered, my dear.” She didn’t know what else to say and awkwardly grabbed Feng Lezhen’s hand. “I’ve already sent for someone. I’ll personally escort you home.”
“Mother,” Feizhan frowned, “she’s mine. My Rinuan Pavilion is her home.”
“You unfilial child, be quiet!” Luo Ying scolded him softly.
Feizhan immediately shut up.
Feng Lezhen was used to his arrogant, unruly ways, and it was the first time she’d seen him looking this aggrieved. The corners of her lips twitched upward—but when she caught the warning look in Feizhan’s eyes, she quickly resumed a neutral expression.
“Dear girl, did he hurt you?” Luo Ying still held Feng Lezhen’s hand tightly. Her voice, compared to when speaking to Feizhan, was gentler by several degrees. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t raise him properly. To do something so outrageous… Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. I won’t let him harm you again.”
“Mother…” Feizhan had a headache. He never thought the first obstacle he’d face would be his own mother.
“Don’t say another word!” Luo Ying was a southern woman—always soft-spoken. Even her reprimands carried a lilting accent.
But however soft the tone, it still held power over her son. Feizhan obediently stayed silent and looked toward Feng Lezhen, clearly hoping she’d help him out.
Someone came to the door and silently bowed to Luo Ying. She gently reassured Feng Lezhen, “Dear, wait here a moment. I’ll be right back.”
With that, she gave Feizhan a stern look and left.
The moment she was gone, Feizhan turned to Feng Lezhen. “Your Highness, help me out.”
“Your mother insists on sending me away. What can I do?” Feng Lezhen countered calmly. “But you—you’re a dignified third prince of Tayuan. If you really want to keep a woman, even if she’s the Tayuan queen, I doubt she has the right to interfere.”
Feizhan frowned deeply, his gray-blue eyes as striking as the ocean. “She’s always crying. If I force you to stay, she’ll come cry at me every single day. So if you want to stay, you have to say it yourself.”
Feng Lezhen looked at him for a moment, then gave a sly smile. “I won’t say it.”
Feizhan: “…”
Just as he was about to argue again, Luo Ying returned in a rush. The first thing she said upon entering was, “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”
“No.” Feizhan inhaled deeply.
Luo Ying looked at him suspiciously, then turned to Feng Lezhen. “Dear, the carriage is ready. You may leave now.”
Feizhan immediately looked at Feng Lezhen, and for once, his eyes showed a rare vulnerability.
Feng Lezhen silently clicked her tongue. When Luo Ying reached out for her hand again, she subtly pulled away. Luo Ying froze, confused.
“I’m not leaving,” Feng Lezhen said.
Luo Ying was stunned. “Why not…”
“Why not leave?” Feng Lezhen met her eyes. “Does Madam truly not understand, or are you pretending to be ignorant?”
Her tone wasn’t harsh, but the natural aura of command in her voice made Luo Ying unable to respond.
Feizhan, seeing his mother frozen on the spot, turned his face away silently. He couldn’t deal with her—he could only rely on Feng Lezhen now.
The hall was quiet for a long moment before Luo Ying hesitantly said, “I… I don’t understand what you mean…”
“What’s hard to understand?” Feng Lezhen’s voice was calm but laced with coldness. “I’m from a prominent family, raised under strict rules. Your son abducted me in front of everyone, and now he’s taken my innocence and ruined my reputation. I’ve lost all my options. If I return now, do you think my parents would tear apart the clan elders to protect me—or kill me for the family’s honor?”
Luo Ying’s eyes reddened again, and she covered her mouth in pain.
Feizhan saw her about to cry and immediately moved to comfort her, but before he could say anything, Feng Lezhen snapped, “No crying.”
“Ugh…” Luo Ying forced herself to hold back.
Feizhan: “…”
“The damage is done,” Feng Lezhen said. “Crying won’t help. Better to fix it—give me a proper status.”
Feizhan froze and looked at her in surprise.
“Y-yes, a title…” Luo Ying choked, “I’ll go ask the King to grant you a marriage decree.”
Feizhan was still staring at Feng Lezhen, but at those words, his face instantly darkened. “She’s just a plaything. Once I’m done, I’ll throw her away. And she’s fit to be my wife?”
“Stop spouting nonsense!” Luo Ying hit him, furious. “You ungrateful wretch!”
Feizhan sneered, “I said I won’t marry her, and I won’t. My future wife will be a noble lady of Tayuan. Someone like her—”
Before he could finish that insult, a slap landed on his face.
Both mother and son froze and turned in unison to the one who had struck him.
Feng Lezhen’s eyes were red with fury. “You—you took my body. How dare you not take responsibility?”
Feizhan stood speechless for a moment—then, in a burst of rage, raised a hand to strike her back. Luo Ying quickly stepped between them, and the eavesdropping servants rushed in all at once, throwing the room into chaos.
In the end, the situation ended with Luo Ying nearly fainting from crying. Under her tearful pressure, Feizhan reluctantly agreed not to hit anyone again and said he wouldn’t oppose the marriage anymore. Still, Luo Ying insisted on taking Feng Lezhen away for now.
“Forget it,” Feng Lezhen refused, her tone carrying the kind of sorrow that comes only when the heart has died, “marry a chicken, follow a chicken; marry a dog, follow a dog. Mother may protect me for a time, but can she protect me for life? I’ll stay. If he dares lay a hand on me again, I’ll hang myself right here.”
Hearing that, Luo Ying became even more anxious, but under the urging and persuasion of those around her, she eventually left.
A large group had thundered in and now thundered out, and in no time, the disordered hall was left with only two people.
“Your mother’s body is quite sturdy—took her this long to pass out from anger,” Feng Lezhen commented calmly.
“Mainly thanks to Your Highness. Back when you were plotting to kill me, you still remembered my mother’s coughing fits and sent a physician to Tayuan to care for her. Because of that, I can’t even fully bring myself to hate you.” Feizhan touched his stinging right cheek and clicked his tongue. “Your Highness, you hit pretty hard.”
“You dared to insult me—what did you expect?” Feng Lezhen said with an indifferent expression.
Feizhan laughed, his eyes gleaming with mischief and danger. “My insults were fake, but Your Highness’s slap was very real.”
“What, are you planning to hit back?” Feng Lezhen looked up and met his gaze.
Feizhan did reach out, but instead of hitting her, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it close, sure enough finding her palm flushed red.
“You really used all your strength, didn’t you?” he chuckled—and without warning, hoisted her up onto his shoulder.
Feng Lezhen’s body was suddenly lifted off the ground. By the time she realized what was happening, she was already slung over his shoulder. She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Naturally, taking you back to the room,” Feizhan replied as he strode off, “Foolish woman who doesn’t know her place. Just a plaything of this prince, and you dare dream of becoming the main consort? If I don’t teach you a lesson today, I’m not worthy of my name!”
He didn’t bother lowering his voice. Most of the servants in the courtyard heard everything and instantly lowered their heads in panic. Feizhan stormed into the room and slammed the door behind him.
The moment Feng Lezhen’s feet hit the ground, she raised her hand to strike—but Feizhan was quicker and caught her wrist mid-air.
“Your Highness, is it proper to keep resorting to violence?” he asked, still bearing the red imprint of her slap on his face.
Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow. “I rarely get the chance to discipline someone personally. It’s quite satisfying.”
“Want to try disciplining me on the bed? Feels even better,” Feizhan said with a wicked grin.
Feng Lezhen smiled faintly and, without ceremony, grabbed him through his clothing by the ruyi ring. Feizhan let out a muffled grunt of pain but didn’t release her wrist.
“Your Highness really is interested in that part of me,” he said, half-laughing, his gaze darkening.
Feng Lezhen’s lips curved. Her grip tightened. “I am. How about you wear ten or so more?”
“What would I need so many for? One is enough.” Feizhan wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer.
Feng Lezhen shot him a glare and let go.
When she released him, Feizhan also let go and followed her to sit by the table. “Why did you ask my mother for a title?”
“Break down before building up again,” Feng Lezhen replied simply.
Feizhan let out a low laugh.
Though Tayuan valued bloodlines, he—as the so-called b*stard third prince—wasn’t entirely without chances to climb. The key was to form alliances with powerful noble clans, and the simplest and strongest way to do that was through marriage.
If she, a woman of Great Qian, were to become his main consort, that path would be sealed off completely… A prince whose wife was from a foreign land, whose own bloodline was already impure, and who held little power in Tayuan—no matter how capable, would never inherit the throne.
“You drew too much attention with your show of strength in the desert. Your ambition has already been exposed. Even if you lie low now, people won’t drop their guard. But once you marry a Great Qian woman, you’re no longer the player—you’re the piece. And to your brothers, a player is an enemy, but a piece is someone they can rope in. That’ll make it easier for you to move later,” Feng Lezhen explained calmly.
Feizhan gave a half-smile. “If I become a piece, what’s the point of easier movement?”
“How old is the King of Tayuan this year?” Feng Lezhen asked suddenly.
Feizhan paused. “Sixty-five.”
“Sixty-five,” Feng Lezhen repeated. “That old, he probably can’t have more children.”
Feizhan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”
Feng Lezhen gave a light laugh. “Five sons total, two already dead. That leaves three. Succession is a serious matter—there’s bound to be bloodshed. If two more fall… who do you think the throne would go to?”
Feizhan narrowed his eyes, and the peaceful sea in them turned into a brewing storm.
Feng Lezhen poured a cup of tea and slowly pushed it toward him. “Even as a piece, you can devour the player. Compared to me, you’re lucky—born with a few more taels of flesh. You’re the logical heir. The road won’t be so hard.”
Feizhan was silent for a long while. It wasn’t until the tea in front of him had gone cold that he finally muttered, “It’s more than a few taels.”
Feng Lezhen: “…”
