“Speak up, you brat!” Qingfeng’s hesitant, uneasy, and shocked expression made Leng Mingye’s mood soar as he thought of the possible speculation in his heart. Seeing the boy still wearing that expression when questioned, he grew annoyed and tightened his grip on Qingfeng’s shoulder.
“Master, please, stop! I’ll talk, alright? *Sigh* It really was Honglian who kept insisting. How could that girl be so vicious? Even after quarreling with you, she still tries to drive a wedge between us. I—”
The man before him wore a tense yet excited expression, almost giddy. Qingfeng frowned in confusion, gritting his teeth against the pain from the forceful grip on his arm. As he hesitated, the pressure on his arm increased.
He quickly surrendered, shouting, and only when Leng Mingye snapped out of it and released him did Qingfeng complain, rubbing his nearly crushed shoulder. He thought of Honglian’s repeated warnings about what to say to Leng Mingye and how, despite the rift between their masters, she still dragged him, a mere servant, into it. He couldn’t help but grumble.
“She’s *vicious*?”
Qingfeng’s complaint snapped Leng Mingye back to his usual cold and composed demeanor. Hearing such an evaluation of *her*, his lips curled slightly as he asked calmly. Though his tone was even, the displeasure hidden in his eyes made Qingfeng feel utterly miserable.
He didn’t understand his master’s mercurial moods—one moment furious, the next half-dead with longing, then suddenly protective. Though confused, he knew his master was angry now.
“I… I don’t think I said that exactly. But she *has* been cruel to you, Master. After all you’ve done for her, she— I’m just stating facts, Master. I—”
Though inwardly grumbling (*We’re all just standing up for you, Master!*), Qingfeng played dumb. Seeing Leng Mingye pause and turn his gaze, he quickly plastered on a fawning smile. Before he could finish, a shadow flashed before him.
“Master—”
A punch to the face silenced Qingfeng instantly. Though filled with grievance and complaints, he vaguely understood now. His master clearly felt differently about that Second Miss Mu—though only *he* knew the full extent.
Regretting his loose tongue, Qingfeng could only cover his bruised eye, whining pitifully.
“This is just a light lesson. Next time, if I hear you badmouthing her behind her back, I won’t stop at just blackening *one* eye. Now get out. I need rest.”
Leng Mingye suppressed a smirk at Qingfeng’s complaints and the sight of his swollen face. Though his tone was stern, the faint curve of his lips betrayed his good mood.
“Right… I’ll take my leave then.”
Qingfeng felt utterly wronged. He’d only spoken the truth, yet got punched for it. Seeing his master’s barely concealed amusement, he nearly gagged. Muttering dejectedly, he turned and left.
“*You little brat. Sending Honglian with that message—were you hinting for me to come find you again? At least you’ve got some conscience left.*”
Once Qingfeng was gone, Leng Mingye sat quietly, pondering the news he’d brought. Though unsure, his eyes gleamed with anticipation—and a smile he didn’t even realize he was wearing. With a low chuckle, he leaped out the window.
———
“Too guilty to use the door, Your Highness? Or just too cowardly to face me?”
Wan Qing had sent Honglian with the message, then waited in bed, certain the man would grasp her meaning. Yet, knowing his pride and arrogance, she wasn’t entirely confident.
Just as she dismissed Honglian and began drifting off, a soft *thud* came from the window, followed by the familiar scent of fresh grass.
Rolling over (her lamp still lit), she eyed the man now standing beside her bed and smirked.
“*Guilty?* Brat, if anyone should feel guilty, it’s *you*. Or have you forgotten *you* were the one who took advantage of *me*?”
He’d expected her to soften after summoning him. Instead, she lounged there, taunting him. His briefly improved mood soured. So she’d called him here just to mock him?
No more niceties. In one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist and leaned in, his handsome face inches from hers, as if *she* were the villain.
“Enough. Is harping on this *really* so amusing? Just tell me—why did you stop my carriage?”
Wan Qing sighed. For a man who seemed so mature and composed, he could be *ridiculously* childish. *She* was the one who’d lost out that night! She hadn’t demanded he take responsibility, yet here he was, acting like *she’d* wronged *him*.
Though irritated, she *had* been the one to initiate things. His breathtaking looks were undeniable, but if he thought she’d swoon like other girls, he was sorely mistaken.
With a faint smile, she subtly freed her wrist and adopted a businesslike tone.
“Why? Angry I interrupted your *rendezvous* with your lover?”
If she’d asked directly, he might’ve answered calmly. But the mention of her “brotherly” closeness with that guard—*Qingfeng*—and how she’d *attacked him* to protect the man, made his stomach churn.
His reply was icy, laced with a mocking smirk.
“Leng Mingye, let me make this clear—I’m *not* pleasant when sleep-deprived. If you’re here to waste my time, *leave*. Don’t disturb my rest.”
His assumptions irked her, but she refused to explain. Coolly dismissing him, she turned away.
“So you *were* just toying with me. Fine. I’m *not* leaving, brat.”
Her aloofness infuriated him. Was she *that* concerned for that guard? Seeing her lie back down, an indescribable emotion surged—along with irrational anger.
With a cold declaration, he *flopped* onto her bed, his arm snaking around her waist.
“Leng Mingye, *enough*! I reached out because I thought *you* needed something. But if you’re just going to act like a spoiled child—*don’t blame me*—”
She’d expected him to seek her out for his mother’s treatment. If he’d been civil, she might’ve agreed. Instead, he acted like *she* owed *him*, as if she should obey his every whim.
When he sprawled across her bed, his arm encroaching, she *rolled* away. Their past intimacy didn’t mean she’d indulge his tantrums. This man—outwardly composed, emotionally inscrutable, yet sometimes *utterly* childish—wasn’t worth her time.
As his arm reached for her, she *twisted*, her ring’s hidden needle flashing toward him—
(To be continued…)
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