Years later, when they met again, the wolf cub had already grown into a lone wolf. When pressing down on someone, the muscles of his back rippled with explosive strength. Every inch of him exuded danger—even on the edge of losing control, he retained a sliver of rationality.
With a ripping sound, her robe tore in two. Feng Lezhen didn’t have time to raise her arms before her front was exposed. Feizhan’s gaze darkened, and he bit down through her undergarment.
Feng Lezhen let out a muffled gasp, turned her face away to escape his mouth and tongue, and panted, “Get off me!”
Feizhan let out a low laugh. In his storm-colored gray-blue eyes, wind and thunder brewed. “So even Your Highness can be afraid?”
Feng Lezhen glared at him coldly.
It had been just a kiss, yet both their lips bore the marks of teeth—bloody and tangled, it was impossible to tell whose was whose.
“If you’re afraid,” Feizhan said, locking eyes with her stubborn gaze, “then why risk yourself? No matter how useless Feishai is, he was trained in horsemanship since childhood. His body is strong—how could you be so certain your drug would be enough to bring him down?”
“My drug never fails,” Feng Lezhen said coolly, blood staining her lips and teeth, giving her an eerie allure.
Feizhan laughed again. One hand cupped her cheek, his fingers brushing over her smooth skin, trailing down to her jaw—then suddenly tightening.
Feng Lezhen winced in pain and slapped him.
Smack!
She didn’t hold back. His head tilted slightly with the force, and fingerprints quickly rose on his cheek. Yet he didn’t care. Still gripping her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “Was that medicine from the physician?”
Feng Lezhen’s expression didn’t change.
“Whoever he is, to earn such trust from Your Highness… I must find a chance to meet him someday,” Feizhan said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Feng Lezhen replied, “You won’t have the chance.”
Even that faint smile vanished. “How protective.”
Feng Lezhen didn’t bother arguing and simply demanded he get off her.
Feizhan curled his lips. “But Your Highness still hasn’t answered me—what if the medicine wasn’t strong enough?”
Feng Lezhen frowned. She stared at him for a while before realizing he wouldn’t stop unless she gave an answer. She took a deep breath and said coldly, “Ah Ye was nearby.”
“So you had a backup plan.” Feizhan nodded in approval. Just when Feng Lezhen thought the interrogation was over, he suddenly asked again, “And what if she hadn’t made it in time?”
“Feizhan,” Feng Lezhen said, finally losing patience, “stop picking a fight.”
“I’m just chatting normally. Does Your Highness think I’m picking a fight because you can’t answer?” Feizhan’s smile turned increasingly arrogant.
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a long time, then suddenly smiled. “What do you want to hear?”
She paused, then spoke again, her voice much calmer. “Do you want to hear what I would’ve done had I failed? What could I do? At worst, I’d let Feishai take advantage of me for one night. It’s not like I’d lose a piece of flesh.”
Feizhan’s expression turned grim. “Your Highness truly is someone who doesn’t sweat the small stuff in pursuit of great things.”
“What kind of answer do you want?” Feng Lezhen asked, meeting his gaze with biting sarcasm. “Do you want me to say I’d fight him to the death to preserve my so-called chastity? Or that I’d rather die for honor? Don’t be stupid. I have a kingdom to inherit, power and wealth to manage. Compared to the path I must walk, what is this bit of humiliation or setback? Why would I risk my safety for pride?”
“Besides, you, Feizhan—what right do you have to be angry with me? Even if I’d failed last night, my life wouldn’t have been at risk. It wouldn’t have affected you in the slightest. So what are you so angry for?”
Feng Lezhen stared straight at Feizhan, her every word a pointed question. Though he had her wrists pinned and body trapped beneath him, her aura didn’t diminish in the slightest.
She was cornered and isolated, yet still regal, still untouchable—without a single word, her gaze alone could look down on him with contempt.
Feizhan felt as though his blood was boiling—and when it boiled over, it turned to scorching thirst. A thirst like three days in the desert beneath a burning sun—only she could quench it.
Their eyes locked for a long moment before Feizhan kissed her again. Feng Lezhen raised her leg to kick, but he caught her knee.
Feng Lezhen narrowed her long eyes. “You’d better think carefully—do you want a fleeting moment of pleasure, or do you want the throne of Tayuan?”
“What if I say I want both?” Feizhan kissed the tip of her nose, his body radiating such heat that she, too, was damp with sweat. “Does Your Highness not desire it as well?”
Feng Lezhen said nothing.
Feizhan gave a knowing smile and took off his short tunic.
The ru huan swayed loosely at his chest, like a woman’s earring dangling from a delicate earlobe. Feng Lezhen had been intrigued from the first time she saw it. She lifted her hand and brushed her fingers over it.
Feizhan’s breath hitched. A droplet of sweat slid down from his chin and landed between her brows.
Dry kindling met wildfire—loss of control, descent into madness. The two of them were like travelers lost in a desert, suddenly stumbling upon an oasis while dying of thirst. Even if they knew it was an illusion, they couldn’t help but sink into it.
Feng Lezhen savored the feeling of sinking.
She wasn’t a sage and never aspired to be one. She couldn’t live up to the ancient scholars’ ideals of extinguishing desire. Life was short—one must seize joy when it came. A moment gained was a moment enjoyed. As for the rest—deal with it later.
Amid their fevered entanglement, Feizhan noticed she still clutched that small ring. His voice hoarse, he asked, “Does Your Highness want to take it off and have a closer look?”
Feng Lezhen lifted her eyes and met the deep darkness in his.
After a brief silence, she curled her lips. “Better not.”
Feizhan chuckled lowly and didn’t press further.
They spent the entire morning inside. It wasn’t until the hot water had been called for three times that they finally dressed and sat properly at the table to eat.
Clearly famished, neither spoke a word as they ate, each focused solely on their meal. Only when they finished did they set their chopsticks down.
“About yesterday…” Feng Lezhen finally opened her mouth, her voice still languid with post-passion exhaustion. “How was it handled?”
“How else?” Feizhan cast her a glance, eyes briefly brushing the red marks on her neck before quickly looking away. “The eldest prince died in Qingshui Pavilion under mysterious circumstances. The only servant who accompanied him is dead too. It’s clearly not suicide.”
“If not suicide, then it’s murder. But the murderer hasn’t been found.”
Feng Lezhen asked, “Can it be found?”
Feizhan curved his lips. “If there’s no killer, what is there to find?”
Feng Lezhen nodded.
Only four people had known about last night’s meeting. Now that Feishai and the servant were dead, only she and Feizhan remained. The matter had become a complete mystery.
“A few days ago, the Eldest Consort gave me another packet of poison. She told me to find a chance to put it in your food,” she said calmly.
Feizhan: “Poison?”
Feng Lezhen: “Yes.”
Feizhan understood instantly. “Now that her only son is dead, she likely has no time to bother with me. You and I don’t need to keep pretending.”
“Just her being too busy to care isn’t enough,” Feng Lezhen said unhurriedly. “You need to give her something to do—keep her busy.”
Feizhan paused. “You mean…”
“There’s no killer, but justice lives in the hearts of the people.” Feng Lezhen raised her eyes and met his gaze.
Feizhan laughed. “What I like best… is this wicked side of Your Highness.”
Feng Lezhen ignored him and picked up a piece of goat milk pastry.
The Eldest Prince was dead. The Tayuan King was grief-stricken, throwing tantrums at court daily, vowing to uncover the murderer. And in the palace, rumors began to spread among the servants—
Since it was murder, how could there be no murderer? Unless that person had erased all the evidence before anyone arrived. Or perhaps… they were still among them in another guise. If they remembered correctly, wasn’t the second prince the first to discover the crown prince’s body? Why had he gone to Qingshui Pavilion for no reason?
Voices clashed, theories multiplied, and soon the rumors reached the ears of the Eldest Consort. Having lost her only son, she had been mentally unstable for days. Upon hearing these murky whispers, she immediately stormed to the Tayuan King and insisted that the second prince be executed as blood atonement for her son.
Seeing the once composed and dignified Eldest Consort so distraught, the King’s heart ached. He tried comforting her every time they met. She cried her heart out but, soothed by his gentle words, never made too much of a scene.
“These days have indeed been lively,” Feng Lezhen reclined in Rinuan Pavilion, eating melon seeds without stepping a foot out the door. “But it’s not enough. If the Eldest Consort were to learn that the King’s true purpose in placating her… was to protect Feishi, I wonder how much more chaotic the palace would become.”
Feizhan raised an eyebrow and walked out the door.
That very evening, the Eldest Consort once again stormed into the King’s chambers. The King immediately put aside everything to comfort her. But in her eyes, his concern was merely guilt—solid proof he was shielding the second prince.
“You knew, didn’t you?! You’ve always known, haven’t you?!” the Eldest Consort cried with every word soaked in blood. “You knew Feishi was the killer, but you chose to protect him—because he’s your favorite son! You just want him to inherit the throne! You knew he killed my child and you still want to shield him! How could you face my A’Ridi clan who supported you?!”
The King’s temple throbbed with rage. “What nonsense are you spouting?! Where did you hear such baseless rumors?”
“You want to prove your innocence? Then go kill Feishi now!”
“Impossible!”
The Eldest Consort collapsed in hysterical sobs and trashed the entire bedroom. She then tried storming into the Second Consort’s residence to cause trouble. The King had no choice but to send people to restrain her.
Just as Feng Lezhen wished, the palace was thrown into complete turmoil. Some went mad, some played dead, others lay low to dodge the storm. Everyone was scrambling—except the quiet little Rinuan Pavilion, which seemed to have been utterly forgotten. Even Feizhan found himself with plenty of idle time.
“Well, that’s only natural,” Feizhan said with amusement, resting his head on Feng Lezhen’s lap as they basked in the sun. “After all, what waves can a b*stard prince stir? His bloodline’s filthier than the servants’.”
Feng Lezhen lowered her gaze and glanced at him. “Don’t sit idle either. While the Eldest Consort is still in her madness, hurry and make a trip to the A’Ridi clan.”
“To do what?” Feizhan asked casually, his thoughts elsewhere as he leaned in to sniff the scent lingering on her spiced robe.
“To propose marriage,” Feng Lezhen parted her red lips and uttered three words.
Feizhan paused for a moment, then slowly rose from her lap.
