Thanks to Feizhan’s nonsense, the conversation abruptly ended. The two stayed in the room for most of the day. When someone was finally called to bring food, Feizhan casually slashed his own arm again, letting the blood stain the freshly changed bed linens.
Feng Lezhen frowned at the sight. Once he was done, she asked, “How old are you this year?”
“Your Highness doesn’t know?” Feizhan replied with a question.
They were born the same year. Back then, when Tayuan lost the war against Great Qian, they had no choice but to submit. One of the treaty conditions was sending a prince to Great Qian as a hostage. There were five princes, and the king chose Feizhan, claiming it was because he’d been born the same year as the emperor’s twin children—making him a true fated match for the Qian imperial family.
“You’re already this old… and you’ve never had a woman?” Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow.
“Why so curious, Your Highness?” Feizhan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Could it be… you’ve developed feelings for me?” He suddenly leaned down, lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “I wouldn’t want it, but if Your Highness insists on forcing yourself on me, I guess I’d just have to submit.”
Feng Lezhen curled her lips slightly and pushed him back two steps with a single finger. “I’m just reminding you—if you wanted to fake blood, yesterday was enough. No need to go overboard today.”
“Why didn’t Your Highness remind me earlier?” Feizhan raised an eyebrow.
Feng Lezhen glanced at his still-bleeding wound. “I saw how happy you were cutting yourself—couldn’t bear to interrupt.”
Feizhan let out a laugh—it was unclear whether from amusement or anger—then calmly got dressed. “This prince has his own reasons for doing so. Your Highness need not concern yourself.”
Since he’d said as much, Feng Lezhen, as merely the ‘assistant’ in this game, naturally dropped the subject.
Luo Ying, seemingly quite shaken by Feng Lezhen, went straight to the Tayuan King after regaining her composure. While she was busy over there, things weren’t quiet on this end either. In just one afternoon, countless people came trying to probe for information. Some were rather clever—if not for the sharpness of Feng Lezhen and Feizhan, their ploys might have gone unnoticed. Others were laughably obvious, loitering at the doorway under the pretense of cleaning and wiping—only short of wearing the word “spy” on their faces.
By the end of the day, Feng Lezhen was fed up. Before the sky even turned dark, she had Feizhan shut the door and forbade anyone else from entering.
To outsiders, this naturally seemed like the two were about to engage in more debauchery.
The tightly closed door stirred all kinds of imagination, but inside, the two were seated at opposite ends of a table, separated by quite some distance.
After trying the milk tea a few times, Feng Lezhen switched to plain water. Now she gently sipped the tasteless hot water and glanced at Feizhan. “Why does your Rinuan Pavilion leak air like a sieve?”
“No choice. I’m a prince with thin blood and weaker power. If I turned my residence into a fortress, wouldn’t that only draw more suspicion?” Feizhan replied matter-of-factly.
Feng Lezhen’s tone was calm. “So you just let them plant spies freely?”
Feizhan raised his brows, his ocean-blue eyes full of roguish mischief.
Feng Lezhen curled her lips slightly, clearly not buying it. “If that were true, why is your courtyard so clean?”
“By ‘clean,’ Your Highness means…?”
“Maidservants, bed companions, favored consorts,” Feng Lezhen gave him a flat look. “Don’t play dumb. Servants may be of low status and can’t get too close to you, but women are different. If they truly meant to watch you, wouldn’t they send you some women?”
This courtyard was entirely male—not even a single maidservant in sight. That wasn’t normal.
“Who said they didn’t send any?” Feizhan’s lips curved with wicked amusement.
Feng Lezhen: “So where are they?”
“They ran away,” Feizhan replied.
“All of them?” she asked, surprised.
“All of them.”
Feng Lezhen stared at him. “What did you do?”
“I simply did what a man’s supposed to do. If they couldn’t handle it and fled, that’s not my problem.” Feizhan looked like he was reminiscing fondly. On any other man, that expression would’ve been repulsive—but on him, with his devilishly handsome face, it was just… unfairly attractive.
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a long moment before suddenly laughing. “You’ve lived in Great Qian so long—have you heard the old saying, ‘There are only cows that die from exhaustion, never land that gets ruined from plowing’?”
“If Your Highness doesn’t believe me, you’re welcome to test it yourself,” Feizhan said, pulling her into his arms and pressing her tightly against him. “Let’s see who gives in first—the cow, or the land.”
Feng Lezhen went silent for a moment before sighing. “Why is it that every time I’m with you, our conversation turns to such filthy nonsense?”
Feizhan paused—then broke into uncontrollable laughter.
The night passed peacefully. Early the next morning, the Tayuan King sent someone to summon Feizhan.
“Probably wants to ask about everything that’s happened lately,” Feng Lezhen said casually. “Just handle whatever comes.”
Feizhan nodded and left, but halfway down the path, he turned back. Feng Lezhen was quietly eating breakfast. She looked up when she heard him. “Something else?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Feizhan said, tone uncharacteristically cautious. “Could Your Highness please stay put? Best if you remain in bed the whole time—just in case something gives us away.”
Feng Lezhen picked up a handkerchief and delicately wiped her fingers. “Approved.”
“Many thanks, Your Highness.” Feizhan grinned, then bent his knees and mimicked a Great Qian eunuch’s ceremonial bow.
Feng Lezhen tossed her handkerchief at his face and laughed. “Get lost.”
Feizhan’s grin widened, and he walked off with a spring in his step.
Once he was gone, Feng Lezhen sat before the dressing table, made some adjustments to her appearance, then laid down on the bed again. After a brief nap, she called someone in.
“Please bring me a glass of water,” she said with a light cough, looking weakly at the servant.
The servant quickly poured her a glass. Feng Lezhen thanked him and reached out. As she lifted her arm, her sleeve slipped down a few inches—revealing several ghastly red marks.
The servant quickly lowered his head and didn’t look up again until he had left the room.
“How’s that woman doing?” someone outside asked, curious.
The servant shivered slightly. “There’s not a single patch of skin left untouched. Looks like the Third Prince really went rough on her.”
“Such a pity,” the other person said, shaking their head with sympathy before running off to spread the news.
The rumors over the past few days had spread like wildfire. The Rinuan Pavilion had been especially lively yesterday. Feng Lezhen figured that with Feizhan gone, he probably wouldn’t return before afternoon—but just as lunch was delivered, he came back, face icy.
As he closed the door behind him, the frost hadn’t left his face. Feng Lezhen poured him a cup of tea and pushed it toward him. “Got punished?”
He forcefully seized a common girl and made his own birth mother worry—wasn’t being punished only right? He’d known that when he left, yet he still came back angry, which clearly meant he was dissatisfied with how lightly he was punished.
“What was the punishment?” Feng Lezhen asked again.
Feizhan’s eyes flashed with a hint of mockery. “If only it were a real punishment. He summoned me to discuss my marriage.”
Feng Lezhen’s eyelid twitched. “Your eldest and second brothers have already made their moves?”
Feizhan looked at her with a blank expression.
Feng Lezhen was silent for a moment, then patted his shoulder consolingly. “Look on the bright side—at least you’ve still got your extra ‘two taels of flesh.’”
Feizhan hadn’t expected her to joke at a time like this and couldn’t help laughing. The frost on his face eased considerably.
“Although I don’t know much about the inner workings of Tayuan’s royal court,” Feng Lezhen said slowly, “I do know the king’s most favored consort is your mother. Logically, being born of a favored concubine should have brought you some advantage. How did you end up so thoroughly cast aside?”
She clearly understood that Feizhan’s maternal family held no influence in Tayuan. If he wanted a better future, marrying a noblewoman of Tayuan was the only way. Yet the king had taken this opportunity to push him down even further, fully cutting off any possibility of power—this Tayuan King truly was ruthless.
Feizhan curled his lips faintly. “Forget it. An emperor’s affection for women is no different than for cats or dogs. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have chosen me without hesitation as a political hostage back then. Looking at it now, what happened in the desert not only made my brothers wary of me—he’s the same. That’s probably why he so easily agreed to Mother’s plea for the marriage.”
“I see. The throne can go to a useless fool, but never to a mutt.” Feng Lezhen summarized bluntly.
Feizhan, called a mutt to his face, only let out a soft laugh and didn’t refute her.
“So?” Feng Lezhen looked at him. “Did you fight back?”
“Of course. Made a huge scene. He got so angry he wanted to lock me up, but luckily my mother came just in time and cried until I gave in,” Feizhan said lightly, as though speaking of someone else.
“Well done. Your ambition’s already out in the open—if you accepted quietly, they’d just become more suspicious. Better to throw a fit, then pretend to give in. That’ll ease their doubts,” Feng Lezhen said, picking up her chopsticks and helping herself to some fresh vegetables Luo Ying had gathered from her palace that morning.
She let him stew in silence while she ate. By the time he snapped out of his thoughts, a third of the food on the table was already gone.
“…Shouldn’t Your Highness at least invite me to eat with you?” Feizhan said with a laugh of frustration.
Feng Lezhen didn’t respond and kept eating.
Feizhan said, “Now you remember the etiquette of eating in silence? Isn’t it a bit late?”
Still no response. He watched her with a half-smile until she finished eating. Finally, she put down her chopsticks and met his eyes with a dignified air. “Eat or don’t. Your choice.”
Feizhan: “…”
Thanks to the Eldest Princess’s presence, what usually took him a day or two to get over was completely resolved in one meal. Feizhan exhaled slowly and grabbed a pastry, biting into it with force.
On Feng Lezhen’s fifth day in Tayuan, the king suddenly arranged a family banquet and specifically requested her presence.
The banquet was in the evening. Feng Lezhen didn’t bathe and change until an hour before it began. Her old clothes from Yingguan had long been torn to shreds by Feizhan and thrown away. She’d been lounging in his nightclothes for days now, but that obviously wouldn’t do for an official appearance. It wasn’t until now that Feizhan seemed to remember she needed something appropriate to wear.
The customs in Tayuan were even more rugged than Yingguan’s—reflected clearly in their attire. Bright, vivid colors and light materials were favored, similar to Great Qian’s riding clothes, but with more intricate patterns and layers of silver ornaments. Hairstyles were simpler: married women wore their hair in a high bun; unmarried girls wore two braids hanging over their chest, decorated with various silver hairpieces.
Feizhan picked out a red outfit for her. The accessories included multiple layered bracelets, a silver belt, and a rather ornate headpiece that looked like it came from overseas.
While the attendants Luo Ying sent were dressing her, Feizhan stood behind them watching. Once everyone else had withdrawn, he whistled softly. “Your Highness truly is stunning.”
Feng Lezhen glanced at her reflection and reminded him coolly, “Now that I’ve blocked your path to the throne, shouldn’t you hate me to the bone? All this elaborate dressing up doesn’t quite match the occasion, does it?”
“Well, it’s still a case of the ugly bride meeting the in-laws*,” Feizhan said with a grin. “If Your Highness showed up looking shabby, wouldn’t I be the one laughed at? If you’re really concerned, you could act a little pitiful when the time comes.”
*Chinese proverb that literally meansEven if the daughter-in-law is not good-looking, she still has to meet her parents-in-law
Feng Lezhen: “Ugly?”
Feizhan hadn’t expected her to latch onto that word. He paused, then looked back at her reflection—
Dressed in Tayuan attire, she retained her innate nobility but now had an added air of strength and boldness, like a Tayuan woman born and raised on horseback.
Faced with a face like that, he truly couldn’t bring himself to say she looked ugly.
“Stunning,” Feizhan pulled her into his arms. “Why else would I go so far as to snatch you away?”
Feng Lezhen responded with a slap.
Half an hour later, Feizhan arrived late to the banquet with a fresh palm print on his face. Following behind him was the beautiful woman from Great Qian whom he had kidnapped.
The moment she appeared, all eyes fell on Feng Lezhen. Sitting at the lower right of the Tayuan king was a man with a mustache, who looked nearly ten years older than Feizhan. After a brief moment of shock, a glint of lust rose in his eyes.
Feng Lezhen was no stranger to that look. In her younger days, during incognito outings—even when dressed plainly and covered in dust—she’d encounter those same lewd gazes. In contrast, when she went out as the Eldest Princess, no matter how graceful and radiant she looked, no one dared to show even the slightest disrespect.
It only proved one thing: beauty was useless for those in power—and dangerous for those without it.
Feizhan, as one of the main figures of today’s banquet, fully expressed his dissatisfaction with a darkened face before silently stepping forward to block the malicious gazes directed at them. The two of them, one ahead and one behind, slowly made their way toward the royal throne.
Since it was a family banquet, there were no outsiders present. The Tayuan King sat alone at the head, with his concubines and sons and daughters seated in two rows below him. The two seats closest to the king were occupied by the First and Second Consorts, with their respective sons and daughters beside them. Farther down sat the other concubines who had daughters, and only after them came Luo Ying—the so-called favored consort. Behind her were those concubines who had borne no children at all.
In terms of favoritism toward sons over daughters, Tayuan was no better than Great Qian. And yet, even though Luo Ying had borne a son, as the Third Consort she still had to sit behind those who only had daughters—further proof that the Tayuan people deeply valued bloodlines. For Feizhan, life here truly was difficult.
That was Feng Lezhen’s first thought. Her second: it was a good thing she’d been ill and staying with her maternal family when Tayuan was defeated and came to court. Otherwise, having seen the King and his emissaries back then, someone today might very well have recognized her.
The two of them entered the hall—Feizhan stopping first, and Feng Lezhen, eyes lowered, stopping soon after.
“Greetings to Royal Father,” Feizhan said, placing his right hand over his heart and bowing toward the Tayuan King.
The king, now over sixty with frost at his temples, still had a commanding presence. He sat tall and broad on the throne, exuding authority and cold dignity.
After Feizhan finished his salute, it should have been Feng Lezhen’s turn—but she stood motionless, head bowed like a beautiful but lifeless doll.
The atmosphere suddenly turned tense.
“You there…” The mustached man who had been staring at her earlier spoke up, unsure how to address her. After a pause, he said coldly, “Why do you not salute the king?”
“A subject of a superior kingdom does not bow to the ruler of a subordinate one. Tayuan is a vassal of my Great Qian—what right do you have to demand my respect?” Feng Lezhen’s tone was even colder than his.
No one had expected that a woman who had been forcibly taken would be so brazen. They were stunned at first and just about to scold her—when Feizhan abruptly shouted, “What arrogance! Just a plaything, yet she dares offend the king! Guards! Drag her out and execute her!”
“Wait a moment!” the mustached man blurted out in panic. He hadn’t expected Feizhan to call for her death so swiftly and rushed to stop him. “Tayuan is not a place without reason. She was brought here unwillingly. It’s only natural she would resist.”
Then he turned to the King and bowed quickly. “Royal Father, please show her mercy.”
“Yes,” said another man, rising to his feet. “She’s likely just not used to life in Tayuan yet. In time, she’ll adjust.”
“Please don’t blame her…” Luo Ying pleaded tearfully. “Ah Tao didn’t mean any harm.”
Ah Tao? Feizhan turned to look at her. When did she get that name?
You don’t know a lot of things, Feng Lezhen’s calm gaze seemed to reply. The unspoken tension between them looked like a standoff to outsiders.
More and more people began speaking up for her, each one more earnest than the last. After all, it wasn’t every day they had a chance to cut off Feizhan’s path to succession. This marriage had to go through.
Clearly, the Tayuan King shared that sentiment. After a moment of silence, he gestured for them to be seated.
Feizhan turned without a word and walked straight to sit beside Luo Ying. Feng Lezhen, though clearly being snubbed, remained calm and followed quietly.
Her striking presence had clearly caught the king’s attention. He studied her for a while and then asked thoughtfully, “Why do I find you somewhat familiar?”
No wonder. Her face bore a faint resemblance to the late Emperor. Feng Lezhen met his gaze calmly. “I was born in Jiangnan. My ancestors were once connected to the royal family through marriage, so I stayed in the capital for a time. Perhaps that’s when you saw me.”
The Tayuan King had only been to the capital once in his life—when he surrendered and brought Feizhan along. Her words were no less than a slap to his face.
Everyone’s expression changed. Even the king’s face darkened. Luo Ying quickly stepped forward and bowed. “It’s my fault for failing to teach her properly. She’s been through a lot. I beg Your Majesty not to hold it against her.”
“Mother, why do you care what she does? If she wants to die, let her,” Feizhan said with a frown. Then he turned to Feng Lezhen with a challenging look. “You say you’re connected to the royal family, but I’ve lived in the Great Qian palace for years—why have I never seen you?”
“It’s only a distant relation. I entered the palace once with my father,” she replied coolly. “I suppose my status was too low to be allowed into the cold palace where the hostage prince was kept.”
“You—”
“Enough!” Luo Ying snapped.
Feizhan, known for his filial piety, immediately fell silent at her command.
The Tayuan King sat quietly for a long time, then let out a cold laugh and gestured for Luo Ying to come sit beside him. She timidly obeyed and poured him a cup of wine. His mood visibly improved.
The others didn’t seem surprised to see her sit beside the king—it was clear Luo Ying was truly favored. Unfortunately, none of that favor had extended to her son. Despite being the son of the favored consort, Feizhan was still scorned as a “half-blood b*stard.”
The dancers entered, and the atmosphere lightened. People’s attention slowly drifted away from Feng Lezhen. She kept her eyes down and calmly poured herself some milk tea. As she sipped, Feizhan murmured beside her, “Claiming ties to the imperial family—you really are tired of living.”
“My face happens to resemble the late emperor,” Feng Lezhen replied softly, as though she hadn’t said anything at all. “Rather than wait for him to connect the dots, I might as well say it first. Later, I can pass it off as a distant relation.”
Feizhan let out a quiet scoff, clearly still displeased.
“That mustached man earlier—was he your second brother?” Feng Lezhen suddenly asked.
Feizhan paused, glanced in that direction, and saw that the man was still staring at Feng Lezhen. A surge of killing intent rose within him.
“That’s my eldest brother, Feishai. Beside him is the First Consort, A’Ridi—the King’s official wife,” Feizhan explained. In Tayuan, there was no position of empress; the king’s consorts were simply divided crudely into First, Second, Third, and so on.
A flicker of surprise crossed Feng Lezhen’s eyes. She looked again toward the other side—where a woman also sat with her son. That woman looked a few years older than the mustached man’s mother. Earlier, Feng Lezhen had identified the First and Second Consorts based on appearance, but it seemed she had guessed wrong.
“She’s older,” Feizhan said, as if reading her mind, “but she entered the palace later, so she had to settle for second rank.”
The First Consort had a dignified and stern appearance, but the son beside her gave off a brooding air. The Second Consort had many wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and though she smiled kindly, the man beside her sat stiffly like a statue, back perfectly straight and unmoving the entire time.
What an interesting family, Feng Lezhen thought. She finished her milk tea in one gulp, and as her sleeve shifted with the motion, several deep red marks on her arm were briefly exposed. They looked like they’d been made by a whip—vivid and harsh. Though the glimpse was fleeting, those secretly observing her all noticed, each reacting in their own way.
The purpose of the family banquet tonight was to announce Feizhan’s engagement. After a few rounds of wine, the Tayuan King finally stood, under Luo Ying’s pleading gaze, and made the announcement.
As congratulations echoed throughout the hall, Feizhan’s face darkened further. At last, he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled Feng Lezhen out with him.
“What are you doing? Let go of me…” Feng Lezhen struggled in irritation, but her strength was no match for his. She had no choice but to let herself be dragged away.
Luo Ying gasped and tried to follow, but the King blocked her. “They’re going to be husband and wife—how long do you plan on hovering over them?”
“I just worry Feizhan might act rashly…” Luo Ying sighed in concern, but didn’t dare disobey the king’s sharp gaze.
As they walked farther away, Feng Lezhen’s resistance grew half-hearted. By the end, she was lazily repeating “let me go” without any real force.
Feizhan led her quickly through the corridors. Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and leapt up into a tree before she could even frown.
By the time Feng Lezhen regained her senses, they were already sitting in the thick canopy of a lush tree. The leaves offered good cover—even passing guards didn’t notice them.
“What are you doing?” The weather was still warm, and there were plenty of mosquitoes—especially up here. Feng Lezhen frowned and swatted at the air, growing increasingly annoyed by the bites. “What madness is this now?”
“Shh. Listen to the good show.” Feizhan motioned for silence. The next moment, he loosened his outer robe and pulled her tightly into his chest to shield her from the bugs.
As a result, half of her face ended up pressed against his chest, where she could hear the strong thud of his heartbeat. Her lips brushed the silver ring that adorned him, and with one soft breath, her warm air caused the ring to tremble slightly.
Feizhan’s body tensed. He was just about to adjust his position when voices came from a distance—and he froze.
“The banquet’s not even over. Couldn’t you stay a little longer? Must you leave early every time…” The voice was A’Ridi, the First Consort.
“The main character’s already gone. What’s the point of us staying?” her beloved son, the mustached man—Feishai, was it?—replied. “I thought that woman was something fierce, able to get the Third Consort to ask Royal Father for a marriage. But now that I’ve seen her, she’s just a pretty little fool…”
“She dared to defy your father in front of everyone. That’s no fool. Don’t underestimate her,” A’Ridi warned in a low voice.
Feishai scoffed. “Aren’t all Great Qian women like that? Didn’t the Third Consort also try to kill herself when she first arrived? Now she’s as docile as anyone.”
At the mention of his mother, Feizhan’s gaze darkened.
Feng Lezhen, resting against his chest, could clearly hear his heart beating faster. He was obviously furious… Even without the sound, she’d know from how tightly his arms were wrapped around her.
Speaking of which, the people of Tayuan loved meat and milk tea, so they often carried a strong scent. But Feizhan didn’t. On the contrary, he had a clean, grassy scent—surprisingly fresh.
“But that woman is indeed beautiful,” Feishai continued, his tone lewd. “If the chance comes, I have to try her for myself.”
A’Ridi sounded disgusted. “Touched by that b*stard and you still want her?”
“He’s a useless waste. Can’t even get it up—how could he have touched her?” Feishai sneered. “Most likely just lashed out with a whip like always. Did you see her arm? Covered in wounds. Doesn’t look like someone who’s known pleasure—more like she’s been tortured.”
Feng Lezhen’s brow lifted slightly. So that’s why Feizhan kept putting blood on the sheets. And now she understood what he meant when he said all the women planted in his residence had run away.
As mother and son walked farther away, Feng Lezhen finally pulled herself from Feizhan’s arms. In the dark, she looked calmly into his eyes. “You can’t?”
“Can’t?” Feizhan echoed.
Feng Lezhen chuckled. “Can.”
Feizhan curved his lips, about to say something flirty, when he suddenly winced in pain—his chest stung from a tug.
“Think before you speak. Wouldn’t want to injure yourself,” Feng Lezhen said coolly. She had hooked a finger into the ring on his chest and pulled—hard enough to lift the skin.
Feizhan stared at her, then let out a breathless laugh. “Your Highness, are you perhaps too interested in that part of me?”
“I haven’t seen much of the world,” she replied casually. “So yes, I’m curious.”
Her fingertip gently traced the silver ring.
She didn’t even touch his skin directly, yet Feizhan’s breath grew heavier, and his eyes turned dangerous.
“If you’re so interested, why don’t we go back to the room and study it properly?”
Feng Lezhen stared at him a moment… then smiled faintly. “Sure.”
