Leng Mingye’s rare and shameless words, along with the suspicious looks from the maids like Honglian, made Wanqing barely suppress the urge to scold him.
She turned calmly to the maids and said, “You may leave now.”
Alone with him, she watched as Leng Mingye’s face revealed a smug, inscrutable expression, clearly pleased with her reaction. Wanqing stepped forward coolly and met his gaze.
“Leng Mingye, I believe I’ve made myself clear. If you have no shame, don’t assume others are as shameless as you.”
The thought of this man brazenly speaking like that in front of the maids irritated her. Though chastity meant little to Wanqing, the maids’ puzzled and speculative glances made her glare at him unkindly.
“How am I shameless? If you had the courage to take me, why fear others knowing? I won’t take this money. Unless you give me a convincing reason, don’t think you can cut ties with me so easily…”
Despite his rare moment of embarrassment and tension, Leng Mingye’s expression remained dark. The frustration between his brows eased slightly as he smirked shamelessly, offering her a mocking reassurance.
“Since you insist, fine, I’ll tell you. I already have someone I like, so please don’t waste your time on me. As for this money, now that it’s in your hands, do as you please—even tear it up if you want.”
The words from this seemingly divine man were so childish and wicked that Wanqing felt utterly exasperated. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the money he’d placed before her, then turned to leave.
“Mu Wanqing, explain yourself! I admit my earlier words were harsh, but I’ve already softened my tone. What exactly are you playing at? Don’t tell me the one you love is Sun Fengyu? Or is it Prince Ning?”
Her stubborn refusal to yield ignited Leng Mingye’s temper. Remembering Qingfeng and Baiyu’s advice to shamelessly cling to her, he realized it was useless.
As she moved to leave, he stepped forward and grabbed her arm, frustration evident in his voice. “Answer me!”
When she merely tugged at his grip without turning, his patience snapped.
“Exactly. So, I hope the Young Master will stop harassing Wanqing from now on.”
Thinking of her hidden struggles, she hadn’t expected him to say such things. Though guilt weighed on her heart, she steeled herself, knowing the future they might face. She met his gaze firmly, pulled her arm free, and walked away.
“You—Mu Wanqing! Marrying either of them? Over my dead body! Just wait and see…”
Her refusal to give him a chance infuriated him. All his recent frustration stemmed from her aloof and defiant nature. Though he’d initially resented the one who took him, deep down, he wasn’t angry about that—just her attitude toward him.
Why couldn’t she show even a hint of the coyness other women did around him?
Hearing her words and recalling their intimacy, Leng Mingye’s handsome face darkened. He snatched the stack of banknotes and tore them to shreds before storming off.
“You… sigh.”
As he left, Wanqing stared at the scattered scraps of money at her feet. His persistence left her helpless, and all her words dissolved into a deep sigh as she sat down.
Watching the drifting paper fragments, an indescribable mix of resignation and sorrow flickered across her brow.
“This… this was real money! Miss, you and the Young Master…”
Honglian and the other maids hurried over, dismayed at the sight of the shredded banknotes—worth tens of thousands of taels—now reduced to waste.
Wanqing merely clutched a book, her mind clearly elsewhere. Though she said nothing, the maids sensed the complexity between her and the Young Master. Given her extraordinary talents, few in the empire could match her—perhaps only him. Yet their strained relationship worried Chunlan, who ventured cautiously,
“There’s nothing between us. Don’t listen to his nonsense. Remember our mission…”
Wanqing brushed it off lightly, redirecting their focus.
“Miss, are you worried that future conflicts with the Empress over Her Highness’s affairs might pit you against him?”
Chunlan, ever perceptive, recalled her earlier conversation with Baigu and pressed gently.
“Enough. You should all rest. I need sleep too—tomorrow is the Grand Princess’s birthday banquet.”
Wanqing clearly wished to avoid the topic. She dismissed them and retreated to her room.
“Miss, if you truly care for the Young Master, you could explain your position. If he truly loves you, he’d choose to stand by you. Besides, Her Highness’s matter may only involve the Empress, not the Emperor.”
After the others left, Honglian followed Wanqing inside, helping remove her hairpins. She offered sincere comfort.
“Let’s not discuss this. We’ll take it step by step.”
Wanqing appreciated her concern but refused to force or depend on anyone—especially a man. She resolved to bear this burden alone.
Seeing her determination, Honglian said no more, assisting her to bed before leaving.
That night, as Wanqing slept, a faint floral scent roused her.
“What is that?” She opened her eyes, immediately sensing something amiss.
“Damn it, who drugged me? How—”
Realizing she’d been poisoned, she cursed inwardly. Though puzzled that intruders had bypassed the maids, she steadied herself. Trembling, she retrieved a silver needle hidden under her pillow and pricked key acupoints to halt the drug’s spread while slowly detoxifying. Then she feigned unconsciousness.
Soon, her door creaked open. A shadowy figure approached, lifted her bed curtain, and smirked at her seemingly lifeless form.
“So much for her reputation. My years-refined ‘Silent Dust’ worked perfectly. Hmph…”
Through slitted eyes, Wanqing glimpsed a man with strikingly familiar, beautiful eyes—though his face was masked.
After sprinkling more powder to ensure her deep sleep, he scoffed, hoisted her like a sack, and leaped out the window.
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