Chapter 108
Chapter 108
Something in Fusheng Duan’s eyes darkened imperceptibly, but his voice remained normal. “What is it?”
Shengsheng Zhou slowly approached, bent at the waist, and reached a finger toward Fusheng’s lips.
“There’s something at the corner of your mouth,” she said, glancing at the plate on the side table with one pastry missing.
Fusheng fell silent.
Whom had he expected anything from?
Shengsheng?
He returned the listless little bird to its cage. Shengsheng thought she heard him sigh, but the sound was so brief she wondered whether she imagined it.
“You want me to pardon Zhiyu Jiang?” Resting an arm on the side table, Fusheng propped up his head and tilted it toward the palace maid before him. His entire bearing carried its usual languor and nobility.
Shengsheng nodded.
Fusheng’s lips curved slightly. Stroking the corner she had just touched, he said with gentle cunning, “Please me.”
Shengsheng took a moment to understand those two words.
*Xiaoyu, Concubine Duanmu, I’ll serve you as an ox or horse in our next lives. Go in peace. Leave the aftermath to me!*
“Your Highness, I know a brothel madam in the Zhen Kingdom. Shall I ask her to introduce you to a few discreet women?” (Madam Du of the Crimson Delight House, Chapter 34.)
Fusheng narrowed his eyes and asked faintly, “You want me to hire prostitutes?”
*Right. That means no.*
Shengsheng wanted only to sigh.
She could reject Siran Ming and Weiqing Song without changing expression. Her excuses were always something like, “Your Majesty/Your Highness, this servant is only a palace maid,” reminders of the gulf in their status.
But if she used that wording on Fusheng, Shengsheng knew with her toes that he would answer, “So what?” or “And?”
Siran and Weiqing were constrained by status and kingdoms. Fusheng did not even have a family. He was utterly alone, unburdened by attachments, and unrivaled at doing whatever he pleased.
Simply put, little interested him besides sleeping, basking in the sun, and eating. But once something did interest him, it had to belong to him.
Who had indulged him into such an extraordinarily domineering temperament?
Shengsheng glanced at him and thought, *You asked for this.*
In two or three steps, she reached Fusheng. Her knee slowly pressed forward. One hand braced on his shoulder while the other audaciously pinched his narrow chin. Then she bent down and kissed him hard.
She looked ready to bite him to death.
Truthfully, judging by her earlier reactions, Fusheng had expected Shengsheng to squirm awhile or flush scarlet and kneel to beg forgiveness. He had never anticipated–
that she belonged to the wild school.
The thought crossed his mind for only a second before he caught the back of Shengsheng’s head and seized control.
At the height of their passion, he loosened her sash and slowly slipped his fingers inside. Just then, Shengsheng shoved away the completely unguarded Fusheng.
Breathing raggedly, Shengsheng wiped the glistening moisture from her chin and asked, “Your Highness, can you pardon Zhiyu now?”
Do you understand the feeling of a beast that has eaten only half its fill when the food in its mouth suddenly grows legs and runs away?
That was Fusheng now.
He did not miss the cunning flash in Shengsheng’s eyes. Fusheng’s lips curved coldly.
Very good.
Tail had grown up. She had even learned to leave someone dangling.
“Yes.” Fusheng licked the finger that had just touched the soft skin at her waist, his voice almost “gentle.”
Looking at the man before her–collar hanging open, black hair cascading down, eyes bewitching as a seductive demon’s–Shengsheng Zhou had a bad feeling.
She studied Zhiyu Jiang, who happily came over to hug her.
“Are you alone? Where’s Concubine Duanmu?” Shengsheng asked.
Zhiyu released her. “It’s just me. Mother is still inside.”
Shengsheng questioned the jailer. There should have been another person.
Clearly aware of Shengsheng’s background, the jailer was extremely respectful. “Miss, the order we received was for this person alone.”
Aha. Her bad feelings were never wrong, Shengsheng thought, amusing herself in adversity.
Fusheng Duan truly was the craftiest of schemers. He had set a verbal trap for her!
She had clearly meant both Zhiyu and her mother. Only because the phrase was too long had she shortened it to Zhiyu. Fusheng could not possibly have misunderstood. He wanted her to beg him again!
If so many eyes had not been watching, Shengsheng would have asked Zhiyu to call down a bolt of lightning to express her rage.
The Jiang family would be executed in three days.
“Xiaoyu, let’s buy Concubine Duanmu some of her favorite foods and bring them to her.”
Sorry, Concubine Duanmu. Please die first and scout the road through the underworld.
Perhaps you will be born with your old equipment again. Every year, three days from now, I will burn you some racy booklets on time. Have a pleasant journey.
Inside the cell, Xiyuan Duanmu–whose eyes had nearly bored through the door–sneezed violently. Xiaoyu had been out for so long. Why had no one come for her yet?
After tipping the jailer, Shengsheng left with Zhiyu. A figure flashed through her vision, so fast it seemed an illusion.
But Shengsheng did not let it pass. After escorting Zhiyu to the palace gate to meet Meiren Liu, she walked alone to a deserted place.
“Still not coming out?”
At first there was no response. Only after Shengsheng repeated herself did footsteps sound behind her.
Shengsheng sighed. “Guard Li, I seem to remember…”
The familiar scent of ambergris drifted into her nose. Someone embraced her from behind. Shengsheng turned her head and met familiar, deep black eyes.
“Why are you here?”
Siran Ming sounded aggrieved. “I missed you.”
Shengsheng pushed him and glanced around. “The palace is dangerous. What if someone discovers you?”
Siran said shamelessly, “Shengsheng will protect me.”
Shengsheng replied, “No. Shengsheng will be the first to die.”
Siran reached to embrace her again, but Shengsheng stopped him and smiled. “How about this? Let’s play a riddle game. If you win, you can stay. If you lose, return to the inn and protect Xiaoyu and Beauty, all right?”
Siran’s interest stirred. “Shengsheng will give me a riddle?”
It was not boasting, but once, when Yanyan Yu had insisted on seeing ancient lanterns and enjoying a beautiful encounter, she had cruelly dragged him from bed to serve as her guard. He had solved every lantern riddle without a single loss.
Thinking of Sister Yanyan, he recalled news from the Yong Kingdom several days earlier.
There had been progress regarding her death.
Yes. In this world, Yanyan Yu–the woman he regarded as an elder sister–was dead.
“Little Ming?” Shengsheng waved a hand before his eyes, then patted him. “Come back.”
“Agreed. Give me the riddle.” Siran suppressed his melancholy.