Pei Ji’s words—how could Xie Wangze tolerate them?
Pei Ji raised his hand to silence the retorting Xie Wangze. “Young Master Xie need not rush to refute. I no longer intend to pair you with Her Highness as I did before. That was a mistake, and I already know it. I won’t repeat it. I only wanted to tell Young Master Xie this.”
“You can deceive everyone, even yourself. But don’t deceive yourself again just to deny it, committing another mistake and letting Her Highness fall into today’s predicament once more.”
With that, Pei Ji left.
Xie Wangze stared darkly at Pei Ji’s retreating back, then suddenly shook his head with a wry laugh. “Little Marquis, you actually think I’d develop feelings for the Princess?”
“Truly laughable.”
Pei Ji halted his steps but did not turn back.
Xie Wangze said no more. As the prince of the Chen State, he always remembered not to tarnish the dignity of a Chen State prince. Over these years, rationality had been etched into his bones. His ultimate goal was the Chen State—to reclaim everything that belonged to him.
How could he possibly like Chu Yunge, who had forcibly kept him here? Even less could he become one of her… men.
Their statuses did not match, and he knew full well she was a wanton woman. Unless he was mad, how could he develop feelings for her?
Xie Wangze turned to Ju An. “Are preparations ready?”
“Preparations are ready.” They could return to the Chen State now. The young master remained rational and clear-headed—Ju An should have felt relieved, yet for some reason, he sensed an impending storm.
—
Chu Yunge was not at all surprised to be called aside for a private talk with the Chu Emperor.
“Royal Sister, when did you learn this method of saving lives? To revive someone on the brink of death?” The Chu Emperor looked at Chu Yunge. “Lately, Royal Sister has felt somewhat unfamiliar to Royal Brother.”
Chu Yunge replied, “…Probably because I’ve grown even crazier.”
This Chu Emperor was frighteningly perceptive. It was good that she was mad; she could play the fool.
The Chu Emperor chuckled at her words. “What is Royal Sister saying?”
“The truth. Ever since I went thoroughly mad, I’ve felt much better.”
Chu Yunge spoke with unwavering certainty. “As for the method of saving him, it seemed to come from some miscellaneous book I read, or perhaps a dream—I can’t quite remember. Before, I was always thinking of curing Royal Brother’s illness, so I read many books.”
She added with clear sarcasm, “Today, Royal Sister was forced by those incompetent court officials to give it a try. That hardly counts as reviving someone on the brink of death. Only someone like Xie Wangze, saved right after drowning, would have a chance of survival.”
The Chu Emperor: “…”
He always felt that Chu Yunge wasn’t cursing the court officials but him for being incompetent—mocking him for pushing her out as a shield.
Yet when he examined her closely, he saw her listless appearance.
He paused. Chu Yunge had indeed read some medical books for his sake, but he had read even more.
“I see. Yet We have never seen any similar records.”
“There are so many medical books and miscellaneous texts in the world—how could Royal Brother have read them all? Besides, perhaps Royal Sister really dreamed it. Today, I only tried it out of fear that his death would cause trouble for… the Chu State. It was a bold gamble that luckily succeeded.”
The Chu Emperor seemed not to notice her slip of the tongue and said with a face full of reassurance, “Royal Sister has grown sensible now. This rescue averted much trouble. We noticed that Young Master Xie’s gaze toward Royal Sister has changed.”
Chu Yunge: “…”
What did that mean? Was the Chu Emperor suspicious again, or jealous?
Mad Emperor—just now, when she wanted him to give artificial respiration, he wouldn’t. Now he spouted these sour words.
“Young Master Xie nearly died trying to return to his country, only to be saved by This Princess in such a manner. He’s probably as surprised as Royal Brother—or perhaps he even suspects This Princess took advantage of him, unwilling to let even his corpse go.”
The Chu Emperor looked helpless. “If he’s that ungrateful, We will certainly speak to him properly. But Royal Sister’s temper has grown—it’s one thing to speak of Royal Brother that way, but how can you say such things about the civil and military officials?”
“They deserve to be cursed. Where did Royal Sister say anything wrong?”
She pointed to her head and stared fixedly at the Chu Emperor. “Royal Brother has also tasted the agony of splitting headaches, panic, and palpitations. Royal Sister endures this torment every day. Tortured for years like this, no one could avoid going mad.”
She was probing, laying the groundwork to shed less blood later. But the Chu Emperor refused to take the bait, merely repeating the same old lines: thanking her, apologizing, but never agreeing to drink less of her blood.
Chu Yunge let out a cold laugh and said directly, “Royal Brother need not feel guilty. Anyway, once Royal Sister dies, Royal Brother will soon follow. Royal Sister won’t blame you.”
Not taking the hint? Then he’d keep draining her blood until her body gave out and she drained him dry in turn. He’d die with her.
If she truly couldn’t endure, she’d take this mad emperor with her the moment an opportunity arose. Born in the same year, month, and day—they’d die in the same year, month, and day.
The Chu Emperor’s face stiffened slightly. Before he could say anything, Chu Yunge stood. “I’m truly exhausted today. Royal Sister begs to take her leave.”
Ignoring the Chu Emperor’s attempts to detain her, she left.
A princess was supposed to be rude anyway. Only a princess’s rudeness could better highlight the Chu Emperor’s gracious treatment of the worthy.
She knew what the Chu Emperor wanted to say next. Xie Wangze had won the bet, so he would likely hint at her doing something bizarre again to keep Xie Wangze here.
She wouldn’t do it. All the dirty work on her, all the bad reputation on her—while the Chu Emperor just moved his lips, played deaf and dumb, and kept draining her blood? On what grounds?
Unless he agreed to drink less of her blood, she refused to cooperate.
Night had already fallen. Pei Ji had specially brought a lantern and waited outside, usurping Du Ruo’s position to escort Chu Yunge back to the carriage.
Chu Yunge said nothing and ignored Pei Ji.
Pei Ji followed at her side, glancing left and right, but it was all wasted on a blind man. In the end, he looked increasingly aggrieved and pitiable.
Chu Yunge… still ignored him.
When Pei Ji opened his mouth to apologize, he seemed even more pathetically pitiful.
“Your Highness, I’m sorry.”
“Oh?” Chu Yunge was utterly cold. Did Pei Ji really think he was a cat? Acting pitiful and cute toward her—but it was useless. For men she couldn’t have, her heart was as hard as iron.
Pei Ji grew serious. “I shouldn’t have used you in that bet, putting you in such a situation.”
If not for Xie Wangze being revived by her strange method, the consequences would have been unimaginable. He might spend his entire life paying for today’s impulsiveness, forever mired in regret.
“In the future, I won’t be so impulsive.”
Pei Ji paused. “And last night, I was wrong too. I spoke without thinking and regretted it immediately. From now on, I won’t casually misunderstand Your Highness or push you toward anyone else.”
Chu Yunge glanced at Pei Ji. A gentle breeze stirred; his robes fluttered elegantly, his starry eyes shone brightly, his brows arched like rainbows, his face full of sincerity.
Pei Ji’s nature was fiery, his hatreds clear-cut. Young as he was, he could be impulsive, but he dared to love and hate. He wouldn’t stubbornly deny his mistakes—if wrong, he admitted it and corrected it.
That was Pei Ji: knows when he’s wrong and corrects it, with noble bearing.
Unfortunately, he belonged to the Chu Emperor.
The Chu Emperor truly had good fortune.
Another day of envying and jealous of the Chu Emperor.
Chu Yunge turned and continued walking. Pei Ji grew anxious. “Your Highness, why won’t you speak? Can’t you forgive me?”
“I can. But who says an apology means immediate forgiveness? I’ve remembered those words of yours and won’t change. Wait three days, and we’ll see if forgiving then works.”
Pei Ji let out an “ah.” He knew hurtful words, once spoken, couldn’t be taken back. But “forgive after three days and see”? That was a first for him.