Yun Qingxue reluctantly put down her chopsticks.
She was already hungry, and now, after just one bite, she was forced to stop. Her resentment toward Cang Yan grew tenfold in that moment.
Outside, Qingyan and others waited respectfully with an ornate palanquin.
Supported by Xiaoyao and Xiaoling, Yun Qingxue sat inside, mentally cursing Cang Yan from head to toe. But what could she do? When under someone else’s roof, one has no choice but to bow.
Your turf, your rules!
Once she was seated, Qingyan gestured to the bearers and called out, “Lift the palanquin!”
The bearers hoisted it up. Having lived two lifetimes, Yun Qingxue had only seen palanquins in period dramas before. But compared to this one—decorated with real gold, silver, and gemstones—those from TV looked downright shabby! Riding in such a thing for the first time, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of novelty, which slightly eased her irritation toward Cang Yan.
She assumed the bearers would carry her step by step to the banquet hall. But after just a few steps on the ground, she felt the palanquin slowly rising.
The gauzy curtains fluttered in the wind, graceful as a dancing maiden’s skirt. In the blink of an eye, the grand and flamboyant architecture of the Beast King’s Palace lay beneath her.
Was… was this flying?!
A rare childlike wonder crossed Yun Qingxue’s beautiful face. She’d seen flying palanquins in martial arts dramas but never imagined she’d experience it herself.
Her slender fingers lifted a corner of the curtain. The warm night breeze brushed past, and the stars in the sky twinkled mischievously—everything felt like a dream.
The sound of music grew clearer—a lavish, beautiful melody, yet hollow and lacking soul.
The palanquin landed smoothly, and Qingyan’s respectful voice came from outside: “Your Majesty the Flower King, we’ve arrived.”
Yun Qingxue lifted the curtain and stepped out. Before her stood an elegant yet majestic structure, the source of the faint music she’d heard earlier.
Priceless night pearls were arranged in artistic designs, placed at meticulously calculated angles, illuminating the hall as brightly as daylight.
Inside, a group of dancers in sheer robes swayed gracefully to the music, their sleeves flowing like water, their movements soft and mesmerizing.
Yun Qingxue looked up. Under the grand eaves, a golden plaque hung at the center, bearing three bold, sweeping characters: **Chongming Hall**.
Seated at the head of the hall, Cang Yan spotted Yun Qingxue standing at the entrance and rose with a smile, stepping forward to greet her personally.
The dancers parted, clearing a path.
Without a word, Cang Yan took Yun Qingxue’s delicate hand in his. His deep blue eyes settled on her.
Yun Qingxue averted her gaze, her hand in his making her feel suffocated, as if trapped in a cage.
“Come,” Cang Yan said, leading her step by step into the opulent hall.
On either side of the main seat, low tables were laden with dishes and fine wine, attended by kneeling maids.
To the left stood Feng Zihuang, clad in red, his gaze gentle.
And to the right—
Yun Qingxue’s eyes widened in shock. She blinked hard, as if unable to believe it.
No matter how much she speculated, she’d never have guessed **Jin Lin** would appear in the Beast Clan’s territory!
Jin Lin’s clear eyes fixed on her. It really was Xuexue! Yet in such a short time, she seemed to have grown thinner.
But when his gaze fell on her hand, clasped in Cang Yan’s, the magic within his core suddenly churned violently.
He suddenly wanted to summon a flood and drown this entire palace—drown that bastard Cang Yan along with it!
Jin Lin’s once-calm eyes darkened with hostility and melancholy.
Behind him, apart from the maids serving wine and food, stood Shui Liu. Shui Liu stared unflinchingly at Yun Qingxue, his gaze unfriendly but not overtly hostile.
Cang Yan observed everything with a smirk. He leaned close to Yun Qingxue’s ear, his tone intimate: “Qingxue, do you know the Dragon King?”
Yun Qingxue composed herself and smiled faintly. “We’ve met. There were… some misunderstandings.”
“Tell me about it sometime,” Cang Yan whispered, his breath tickling her ear, making her scalp prickle. She resisted the urge to rub it away.
He was clearly putting on a show of intimacy in front of Feng Zihuang and Jin Lin. No matter how much she despised it, openly defying Cang Yan here would only invite trouble.
After all, right now, she was nothing more than a pawn in his hands.
“You summoned me just to meet these two?” Yun Qingxue frowned, forcing herself not to look at Jin Lin.
Cang Yan chuckled, studying her bare face. The maids had changed her clothes and styled her hair but left her untouched by cosmetics.
A true beauty needed no embellishment.
“It wasn’t my idea,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “The Phoenix King and Dragon King somehow heard of our engagement and insisted on seeing the bride.”
His azure eyes, clear as the purest gem, gleamed with mischief as he leaned in again, his tone deliberately suggestive:
“Didn’t I say earlier? You’re so breathtaking, Qingxue, I’d rather hide you away where no one else can see you.”
Yun Qingxue’s lips twitched stiffly. *Hide me, my ass!*
“I wasn’t joking,” Cang Yan murmured, his playful tone edged with seriousness.
Her heart sank. If he wasn’t joking… did he truly intend to imprison her?
First, he’d forced her into marriage, using her status as Flower King to legitimize his seizure of power from Tong Yun. Now, he’d lock her away, consolidating control while molding her as he pleased?
And the audacity—openly declaring his plans to her face! Even if she was the continent’s so-called “useless” princess, did he really think he could say such things so brazenly?
“Beast King, are you planning to stand there all night? Or perhaps you’d like to perform a welcome act for me and Brother Feng?”
Jin Lin’s smile didn’t reach his cold eyes. He raised his cup toward them and downed the wine in one gulp.
Here and now, watching the first girl he’d ever loved being intimate with another, pretending indifference was impossible. What he really wanted was to throw a punch at Cang Yan.
But reality forbade it—he had no justification to start a fight.
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