Chapter 12: The Infatuated Prince

At the side, Bi Zhu gazed at Fu Jinhe’s faint expression, her eyes flickering. As the young lady’s personal maid, she vaguely sensed that her mistress had acquired many secrets overnight. Yet, she did not wish to pry; her only concern was for her lady.

“Miss, does Princess Qingping intend to do you harm?” Bi Zhu whispered, a tone meant only for the two of them.

Fu Jinhe was momentarily startled. She turned back, her gaze fixed on the delicate features of Bi Zhu. She tapped her fingertips lightly, and Bi Zhu, influenced by her, slowly perceived something amiss.

Could it be that with each plot she shattered, those around her regained clarity bit by bit, until they were fully freed from the narrative’s control and returned to their rightful paths?

“That’s right. Find out exactly what she’s up to and repay her to the utmost extent,” Fu Jinhe said, her voice cold and clear as shattered jade falling to the ground.

Since breaking free from the story, she had resolved to fight destiny with a death-defying determination. If the heavens would not allow her to live, she would defy the heavens itself, refusing to die before her time.

But this time, she would have to trouble the Pavilion Master of the Yingxing Pavilion once again.

Bi Zhu was instantly invigorated by Fu Jinhe’s words, nodding rapidly. Her voice grew a bit more animated, “If there’s anything this servant can do, I will spare no effort.”

“Good.” Fu Jinhe smiled softly, her elegant eyebrows arching gently, her gaze serene yet resolute.

Her eyes settled on the tokens before her, eventually selecting a piece of flawless, crystalline jade.

After Bi Zhu paid the silver, Fu Jinhe returned to the Grand Tutor’s residence. There, she penned a letter and had it sent along with the jade, carefully placed in a box, to the Yingxing Pavilion.

When Shang Xunhuan received the letter and the jade, his almond-shaped eyes sparkled like stars, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

Miss Fu was truly decisive and efficient, sending the token so swiftly and even including a letter.

Though he had no desire to peek at what Miss Fu had sent, his curiosity was irresistible, tingling like a gentle itch he couldn’t ignore.

Finally, he stole a glance—it was a jade piece.

Shang Xunhuan toyed thoughtfully with his black paper fan.

Miss Fu and His Highness were truly in perfect harmony.

The young master’s jade was as flawless as a precious gem, renowned far and wide—truly marvelous beyond words.

“Send someone to deliver this box and letter to the Eastern Palace with utmost urgency—eight hundred miles in haste,” Shang Xunhuan instructed.

A figure clad in black stepped forward, took the box and letter, then turned to leave. “At once, Pavilion Master.”

Shang Xunhuan watched the black-clad figure’s retreating back with a sly smile, shaking his head as if in mock profundity.

The lovesick men and women of this world, caught in the endless joys and sorrows of the mortal realm, trapped by greed, anger, ignorance, and hatred—they can never escape.

As for him, he desired nothing, untouched by the blooming flowers, untainted by a single leaf. Yes, he was truly himself.

…

The Eastern Palace.

Xiao Xuanyin set down his brush, his eyes deep and sharp, swirling with a tempest of passion.

“Add cold tea,” he ordered.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the attendant replied respectfully, pouring cold tea into the cup. He was puzzled—why did His Highness repeatedly request cold tea in the gentle spring?

The slender fingers of Xiao Xuanyin lifted the cup, draining it in a single swallow, his adam’s apple rolling clearly.

The restless desire within him was not abating; instead, it grew fiercer by the moment.

He pinched the bridge of his nose—a rare gesture the attendants had witnessed.

“Your Highness, the Pavilion Master of Yingxing Pavilion has sent something into the palace,” an attendant reported outside the door.

Xiao Xuanyin’s heart pounded wildly, a faint smile curling on his lips.

The man’s handsome features were striking, and when he smiled, it was like the luxuriant bloom atop a jade mountain.

His voice was low and hoarse, “Bring it in. The others may withdraw.”

The attendants placed the items on the desk, then retreated, closing the door behind them.

One of them left as if dazed, trembling inwardly.

Too terrifying! It seemed he had just seen His Highness smile—an unprecedented sight for the usually austere prince.

What could the Pavilion Master have sent to inspire such joy?

Inside, Xiao Xuanyin was alone. His breathing was soft and steady.

He closed his eyes, gazing at the box with a thousand intertwining, heart-wrenching emotions that almost drowned the soul.

He first unfolded the letter—his first time seeing Fu Jinhe’s handwriting.

The woman’s script was elegant, the strokes ending with a hint of sharpness.

To him, she was perfect in every way, each detail stirring waves in his heart.

Once he read the letter’s contents, his face, as flawless as jade, hardened like frost, radiating an intimidating chill that dared no one to meet his gaze.

The forbidden deity had broken the rules only for the cherished guest in his heart, forbidding any harm to her, revealing his protective desire without concealment.

After a long moment, Xiao Xuanyin folded the letter away and opened the box.

His pupils constricted; the jade’s intricate texture was astonishingly vivid, its warmth breathtaking.

It was jade.

He lifted the jade carefully, tightening his grip.

Placing it over his heart, he slowly closed his eyes, his thick, straight lashes casting a heavy shadow.

The man’s pale, noble face was like snow, exalted and refined; the corners of his eyes reddened.

He was like a century-old lonely tree, or a flowerless grass growing in a barren land—just a little hope was enough.

Yet, he was so greedy. For years, he had suppressed his decadent desires.

He wanted to take her to a place where no one else could reach—only him and her.

He wanted to kiss every inch of her: her hair, her brows, her waist, even her feet. He longed to see her flushed with fragrant sweat, tender and melting in spring’s teasing warmth, the bitter brevity of spring nights giving way to morning light.

He wanted to live with her in harmony, year after year, never betraying one another, through every dawn and dusk.

In the silent air, his deep murmurs could be heard—so passionate, so moving.

“Aheh.”

“Aheh, forgive me. Without your consent, I have so covetously adored you.”

…