Chapter 22: Ambiguity Abounds

Fu Jinhui’s heart skipped a beat, ripples spreading through her chest. The man’s cool, pleasant scent of pine drifted to her senses, and behind her waist lay his firm, muscular frame, radiating intense heat. Though he appeared aloof and ascetic on the surface—a high-mountain flower beyond reach—he was burning with an inner fire that threatened to melt her delicate skin.

Her toes curled slightly. In her past life, she had never been this “intimate” with a man.

Several heavy ancient books tumbled down once more, striking Xiao Xuanyin’s arm. His expression remained aloof and pure, his jade-like features as pristine and untouchable as snow, yet his eyes were filled with a deep, consuming desire, his entire being pulsing with potent, masculine magnetism.

Ah He’s hair smelled so fragrant, so sweet. Ah He was so soft and dainty, and as she crashed into his chest, it felt like melting snow drifting into his heart. He could not restrain himself; his throat bobbed, and he let out a sound even huskier and more lingering.

Hearing Xiao Xuanyin stifle two groans of “pain,” Fu Jinhui could pay no mind to anything else. Her slender, jade-like fingers grasped his arm. “Your Highness, does it hurt terribly?”

Xiao Xuanyin gazed down at her delicate hand. Her skin was white as jade, flushed with a rosy hue; if he were to take a light taste, he could surely savor her sweet fragrance. He looked up into her eyes, where her genuine concern was clearly visible, and spoke in a low, heavy voice: “It does not hurt.”

As their gazes met, the man’s eyes were shrouded in a dark, intense shadow. A small cut had been opened on his forehead by the books, and a drop of dark red blood trickled down his handsome, noble face. It was inexplicably imbued with a heart-stopping, decadent beauty.

If it was bleeding, how could it not hurt? Fu Jinhui frowned. The Crown Prince possessed an ethereal, noble grace; if he were to be left with a scar because of her, it would be her grave transgression. She hurriedly “broke free” from Xiao Xuanyin’s embrace, walked to a desk, and said, “Your Highness, your temple is injured. I will go find some medicine.”

Xiao Xuanyin kept his arm in the position of holding Fu Jinhui, suspended in the air for a long moment. He lightly licked his thin lips, his long fingers curling as if lingering on the warmth and scent she had left behind.

Fu Jinhui’s movements were slightly flustered as she found the ointment in a box. She had hidden these supplies here because, in the past, she had been infatuated with Song Junyao, and the young lords who associated with him and Jiang Manxue enjoyed mocking and bullying her. She was often bruised and scraped, so it was a common occurrence. Not wanting her parents to take their anger out on Song Junyao, she had always hidden in the library, applying medicine to her own wounds while crying.

The past flickered by, ultimately settling into calm.

“Your Highness, please forgive my intrusion; let me apply the medicine for you,” she said, returning to his side.

Stars flickered in the depths of Xiao Xuanyin’s eyes, a deep, bone-piercing longing threatening to overflow. His voice held a uniquely moving tenderness and deep indulgence: “In that case, I shall trouble Miss Fu.”

He stood tall and slender, forced to sit upon a low stool.

Hiding nearby, Bizhu was overwhelmed with excitement, nearly fainting from the thrill. Heaven had not forsaken her; it had answered her pious prayers. It was truly an “unexpected accident”—the Crown Prince and her mistress had embraced, sharing physical intimacy. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

Fu Jinhui used her handkerchief to gently wipe the blood from the wound on Xiao Xuanyin’s temple. It was truly remarkable; everyone in the Imperial Palace was strikingly handsome, but the Crown Prince’s jade-like features were the most breathtaking of all. His brow bone was noble and exquisite, his skin cool, his features flowing with beautiful, perfect lines—every inch was a gift from the Creator.

She dipped her fingertips into the ointment and applied it cautiously to the wound. The two of them were leaning quite close.

The woman’s faint, sweet fragrance drifted into Xiao Xuanyin’s nose. His eyes traced her slender, fragile neck, slowly drifting down to the beautiful sight of her décolletage. The wound carried a stinging pain, yet it ignited a different kind of heat, one that spread to every corner of his body. He tensed, his throat burning, and his long legs shifted unnaturally.

“Your Highness, it is done.” Fu Jinhui finished applying the medicine and took a half-step back.

Her clear eyes, however, caught a sight that made her heart tremble. The man’s expression was detached and elegant, like an immortal descended to earth. Yet, his earlobes were flushed a seductive red, his chest rising and falling. His eyelids were half-closed, his thick, straight lashes casting heavy, fan-like shadows.

Desire and coldness intertwined, clashing violently; he looked as though he had broken his vows and indulged his passions, exuding a lethal charm that pulled others to sink into it with him.

Fu Jinhui’s lashes fluttered, and she shook her head, as if to brush away the strange feeling in her heart. She thought to herself that the Crown Prince was truly uninterested in women; it was she who had “taken liberties” with him.

For a moment, the two stood in silence, their fingertips tingling. In that instant, ambiguity bloomed, and undercurrents surged.

...

Song Junyao dragged his numb legs, walking heavily back to the Song General’s mansion. An hour had already passed, and the Crown Prince had yet to emerge from the Grand Tutor’s mansion.

Deep, sea-like jealousy and humiliation, along with a panic he could no longer ignore, gnawed at his heart. His handsome face was pale and wretched, as if he had lost his soul. Along the way, people in the long alleys cast frequent glances at Song Junyao.

All of Chang’an City knew by now: the young General Song, who had always looked down on Miss Fu, had made an unprecedented visit to the Grand Tutor’s mansion, loudly declaring he had been wrong and wished to apologize. Coincidentally, the Crown Prince had arrived, coldly rebuking him for his lack of sincerity and “forcing” him to kneel. Under the Crown Prince’s oppressive, chilling presence, he had actually knelt.

From beginning to end, Miss Fu’s heart remained cold as frost, never giving the young General Song a chance to repent. People sighed repeatedly, feeling as if a lifetime had passed. In the past, it was Miss Fu who had fawned over young General Song in every way; now, it was he who knelt to apologize, yet he could not win her forgiveness. It seemed the mistakes he made had truly broken Miss Fu’s heart. And the notorious Miss Fu had now received the repeated protection of the Crown Prince.

Jiang Manxue, still nursing her injuries at the Princess Royal’s mansion, learned of this news. Her beautiful, vibrant face twisted with hatred, and she nearly choked on a breath of bitterness. The art of manipulating men was her specialty; she was certain that Fu Jinhui could never compare to her.

A few days ago, she had seduced Song Junyao, and they had been lost in passion, unaware of the world around them. He had sworn on his honor that he would break his engagement with Fu Jinhui, that his heart belonged only to her, and that he would make her his wife.

Now, he had gone to the Grand Tutor’s mansion to apologize to Fu Jinhui—this made a mockery of her!

Ignoring her severe injuries, she rushed to the Song General’s mansion. It was already noon, the spring sunlight warm and radiant, yet Song Junyao still felt a bone-deep chill.

Jiang Manxue waited with bated breath, finally seeing Song Junyao arrive. Her usually crimson lips were deathly pale, her charming eyes brimming with tears as she said resentfully, “A-Yao.”

Song Junyao looked up and saw the pitiful Jiang Manxue. His heart ached, and he hurried forward, saying, “A-Xue, why didn’t you stay and rest? What are you doing here?”

Jiang Manxue’s anxious heart settled slightly. A-Yao was still so concerned for her; he had not yet been completely bewitched by that wretch, Fu Jinhui. She reached out and tapped Song Junyao’s chest. “A-Yao, I missed you. I am heavily injured, and not being able to see you makes me so uneasy.”

Song Junyao’s heart melted instantly, the gloom of his cold reception by Fu Jinhui wiped away. It was strange—he was uncontrollably drawn to A-Xue, yet he did not want to let Fu Jinhui go or see her fall into the arms of another man. His heart was small, yet it could hold two women. Perhaps, as the romantic scholars said, one was the vermilion mole, the other the white moonlight; to possess both would be a life without regrets.

His handsome face was set with determination, his gaze burning. “A-Xue, today I went to the Grand Tutor’s mansion to apologize to Fu Jinhui. I intend to marry her as my primary wife, and you shall take your place as a secondary wife. You two shall serve the same husband; there must be no jealousy, and you must be accommodating toward one another.”

The sudden words were like a thunderclap, ringing in Jiang Manxue’s ears so loudly she thought her eardrums might burst. She mistakenly thought she had misheard. “A-Yao, what are you saying?”

Song Junyao’s gaze held a hint of guilt, but it was exceptionally firm. “A-Xue, I know this wrongs you, but I have considered this carefully. My engagement to Fu Jinhui was bestowed by the former Emperor; if I were to force the dissolution of the engagement, the Song General’s mansion would invite disaster. I cannot be that selfish. A-Xue, you have always been magnanimous; surely you can understand me.”

Overwhelming rage rushed to Jiang Manxue’s head. She was already injured, and this made her heart ache as if pierced by a knife. What kind of love potion had that wretch Fu Jinhui fed Song Junyao? Only days ago, he had hated Fu Jinhui with a passion, only to have his attitude shift so drastically.

She felt almost hateful toward Song Junyao. She never imagined that her own past “magnanimity and reason” would become the very weapon that spurred Fu Jinhui on, and now, a dagger pointed at her. How could she not know he was such a hypocritical, heartless, and sanctimonious villain!

“A-Yao, is that truly what you think?” Jiang Manxue dug her fingernails into her palms until they broke, drawing dark, purple blood.

Song Junyao seemed not to notice Jiang Manxue’s anger at all. He said with great seriousness, “A-Xue, my mind is made up. It will not change.”

Jiang Manxue forced a smile, her tone soft and gentle, yet it sent an inexplicable chill down the spines of those around her. “Then it shall be as A-Yao wishes. Miss Fu and I will live in harmony and address each other as sisters.”

Song Junyao was overjoyed. He pulled Jiang Manxue into his arms, holding her with such force it was as if he wanted to merge her into his own bones and blood. He said excitedly, “A-Xue, I knew you were understanding and would not let me down. You are my soulmate, far better than Fu Jinhui in every way.”

That was that. No matter what, Fu Jinhui would never be as considerate as A-Xue. Once they were both brought into the Song General’s mansion, he would give Fu Jinhui the cold shoulder for a while to curb her arrogance. Only when she learned what the authority of a husband meant, and knelt to serve him tea and admit her faults, would he consummate the marriage with her.

The wound from the hairpin on Jiang Manxue’s chest began to bleed, but she remained silent. Her charming eyes were already filled with maddening poison.

This product of ignorance from Fu Jinhui’s era thought she was worthy of sitting as an equal to her? Not a chance!

She had given her purity to Song Junyao, which was equivalent to placing all her bets on him. She would become the person standing above all in this dynasty; no one would share her status. The Princess Royal’s mansion kept a group of highly trained assassins, and she could use Chu Changling as easily as turning her palm.

Everything was prepared; she only awaited the spring hunt to take Fu Jinhui’s wretched life!