Pei Ji still wanted to press the issue, but Li Chengzhe arrived. The Chu Emperor wanted to see him.
“Alright, I’ve arrived too. You can go back to see Your Majesty now.”
These two had appeared together today, and now this summons—it seemed signs of their budding connection were already there. Anyway, Pei Ji and the Chu Emperor would end up passionately in love later on, so whether she forgave him or not hardly mattered.
Pei Ji returned to see the Chu Emperor, still a bit dejected. The Chu Emperor was mild-mannered and treated the wise with courtesy, far superior to Chu Yunge in every way.
But for some reason, when the Chu Emperor mentioned his worry for Chu Yunge, Pei Ji always felt something was off.
They had known each other since childhood, and Pei Ji knew full well how much the Chu Emperor treasured Chu Yunge. So he had never understood why little Chu Yunge had wanted to flee the palace back then. Yet today, when he had been so terrified, the Chu Emperor had remained calm enough to let Chu Yunge treat a dead horse as a live one.
Xie Wangze had already stopped breathing by then. Without a miracle, revival was impossible. Pei Ji had already considered all those possibilities—couldn’t the Chu Emperor? Why let Chu Yunge take the forefront?
The Chu Emperor probably hadn’t believed Chu Yunge could create a miracle either, had he?
So why push her to the front lines?
Pei Ji’s instincts told him there was something wrong between the Chu Emperor and his sister Chu Yunge.
Chu Yunge had no idea that Pei Ji, for all his wild and heroic flair, was the most perceptive of them all. He could spot what others missed, thanks to his sharp intuition.
Chu Yunge returned to the carriage and saw Xie Wangze there. She showed no surprise, no small talk. She simply knocked on the carriage window and headed straight back to the residence.
Xie Wangze’s eyes filled with complexity, as if she had wasted it on a dog.
Seeing Chu Yunge gaze out the window again without even glancing at him, Xie Wangze finally spoke up.
“I thank Your Highness for saving me earlier.”
Chu Yunge didn’t turn her head. “As long as Young Master Xie doesn’t mistake it for This Princess deliberately taking advantage of you or molesting your corpse, that’s fine.”
Xie Wangze’s face stiffened. “Of course not. I mean it sincerely—saving my life leaves me with no way to repay you…”
Her interest piqued at his words, and Chu Yunge turned back.
“If you’re truly grateful, then offset some of that hatred toward This Princess. After all, this has caused This Princess considerable trouble.”
“Yes, so I feel utterly ashamed…”
“No need to feel utterly ashamed. And how could there be no way to repay it?”
Chu Yunge felt the carriage pause briefly before moving again. She patiently explained, “Just make some promise, or give me something—gold, silver, treasures, whatever works. Even a male concubine would do.”
Studies showed that demanding repayment for gratitude had to be done quickly, striking while the iron was hot. Otherwise, as time passed, the gratitude faded, and they might even forget it entirely.
Xie Wangze rarely acknowledged a life debt, so she had to seize the chance.
Xie Wangze: “…”
His surge of emotions stalled, turning to frustration. He didn’t want to deal with Chu Yunge anymore, especially after hearing “male concubine.”
The Princess Mansion already had so many male concubines—still not enough for her?
He didn’t lack gold or silver treasures, but he had no intention of giving them to her. What did she need them for? Indulging in luxuries to buy more male concubines?
Not a chance.
Xie Wangze smoothed the wrinkles in his robes. “Your Highness, I won. I can return to my country now.”
Chu Yunge let out a scoff. She knew it—any talk of “no way to repay” was just him weaseling out.
He didn’t want to give her any benefits, just spout empty words. The moment she called him on it, he changed the subject.
Chu Yunge ignored him.
Xie Wangze saw her brush him off and laughed in anger, but he didn’t budge.
Her Princess Mansion had plenty of holdings he couldn’t touch, but she could forget using his money for male concubines.
“Your Highness, I said I won. I can return to my country now.”
“Then go ahead.” As if you could.
Xie Wangze raised a brow. “My victory means the Princess has to come with me.”
Chu Yunge chuckled. “Take This Princess back to the Chen State for revenge? This Princess isn’t stupid. I’m not going.”
Xie Wangze lowered his gaze, speaking lightly. “If Your Highness doesn’t come with me, I can’t return to my country either—after all, my poison isn’t lifted yet.”
Chu Yunge: “…” That was a threat.
But looking at Xie Wangze’s downcast, pained expression, she felt something odd. Or was he hinting at her?
“What’s that supposed to mean now? Want to consummate and detox?”
Xie Wangze’s lashes trembled as he looked up, staring into her eyes. “If I said yes, would Your Highness agree?”
His voice was low and husky, carrying an indescribable allure.
Chu Yunge broke out in goosebumps. “You wouldn’t want to… detox right here in the carriage tonight, would you?”
Was he really that wild?
Xie Wangze stared at her with an enigmatic look.
Chu Yunge: “…” No way. Xie Wangze wasn’t that crazy, was he? He was a pure love type—how could he touch her?
But then she remembered: Xie Wangze was the one who ultimately rose to become emperor. Without ruthlessness, without resorting to any means, how could he have succeeded?
Last time, Xie Wangze had already made a move on her. If Pei Ji hadn’t shown up, he might have gritted his teeth and borne the humiliation to detox right then.
Stripped of the novel’s rose-tinted filter, ancient men’s “pure love” rarely stopped them from taking wives and having heirs—lineage was a major duty.
He might not like it, but for continuing the bloodline, it was necessary. Sleeping with her once to lift the poison—what was wrong with that?
With that thought, Chu Yunge instinctively leaned back.
She already found it weird if Xie Wangze kissed her, let alone true intimacy.
More importantly, if the poison really lifted, given Xie Wangze’s previous nature, without the Wish Fulfillment Poison holding him back, who knew how he’d take revenge.
Xie Wangze watched as Chu Yunge seemed to think of something, slowly retreating with clear wariness in her eyes toward him.
“Don’t do anything rash. We’ll discuss detoxing later.”
Xie Wangze said nothing. Detoxing could indeed wait, but he needed to return to the Chen State.
And tonight, at that—the fastest way back, immediately.
He knew he couldn’t go back to the Princess Mansion. Guards and Yan Feng were there; escaping Yan Feng’s pursuit would be impossible.
So he had already arranged everything at top speed: knocked Du Ruo out and put her in another carriage, prepared similar decoy carriages heading different directions, and swapped the coachman earlier.
The carriage had already changed course—not back to the city, but the opposite way, straight out of the gates.
They were now on the road back to the Chen State.
He couldn’t risk killing her—not with unknown consequences. Killing her might trap him before he even left, with too many implicated people and matters. So when he decided to leave, he decided to take her along.
As for Pei Ji and the others, if they followed, fine—they could detox on the way to the Chen State.
He had made his decision long ago and had no intention of detoxing in the carriage. This journey required vigilance and focus; such things were out of the question.
Yet earlier, for some reason, he had deliberately been ambiguous, wanting to hear her response.
He wasn’t satisfied with her reaction.
“Want to take it slow? Then behave.” Don’t say things to provoke him anymore.
Xie Wangze’s clipped speech left Chu Yunge speechless.
Chu Yunge: “…” “You can warn or threaten me, but don’t use the words ‘behave yourself.'”
Behave yourself? Too much doting wife tropes—she couldn’t stomach it.
“Xie Wangze, your plan caught me off guard, but you don’t know—I have my own aces up my sleeve.”
Xie Wangze frowned, about to say something, when the carriage stopped.