Chapter 170

Chapter 170

Fusheng Duan had given Shengsheng Zhou the hairpin when she went to Yong Kingdom.

“You already liked me back then?” Shengsheng looked at him suspiciously, her eyes filled with disbelief.

At that time, Fusheng had not truly fallen for her yet. He had merely known she was leaving and, moved by some inexplicable impulse, thought the hairpin suited her and gave it away.

Naturally, he could not tell her that honest truth.

“I hadn’t recognized my feelings at the time.” The implication was that he had already begun to like her without realizing it.

Shengsheng vaguely sensed he was not telling the whole truth. “Why didn’t you refute Meiren Liu when she said those things?”

Fusheng lowered his head and kissed her neck. “It was filthy in there. All I wanted was to leave as quickly as possible.”

“Besides, if it had been you, would you waste that many words on a prisoner?”

Shengsheng placed herself in Fusheng’s position and imagined it: standing in a dim, cramped cave, breathing stale air, her skin sticky with a thin sheen of sweat amid dust and dirt, hot and irritable.

Then the enemy, who ought to surrender obediently, began saying a great many things that made no sense whatsoever.

What would you choose?

1. Endure the discomfort crawling through every pore and debate her.

2. Decide she was an idiot and refuse to explain.

See? Was the answer not obvious? Even her toes knew Fusheng would choose number two!

Shengsheng decided to change the subject. “What is Meiren Liu’s identity?”

He cast her a meaningful glance, seemingly seeing through her little scheme. Only after Shengsheng guiltily averted her eyes did he slowly answer, “She is the phoenix’s bride.”

Shengsheng blinked. “What the hell?”

He lowered his eyes with some annoyance, clearly reluctant to discuss the subject. But Fusheng still patiently explained, “Every emperor of Qing Kingdom selected several of the most outstanding girls whose blood possessed special properties. They were taken to the altar to await the phoenix’s blessing.”

“The one who ultimately received the blessing became empress and was therefore called the phoenix’s bride.”

Shengsheng: “…”

She could already imagine an epic romance.

An ordinary, kindhearted girl accidentally becomes a candidate for the bride. A handsome, domineering emperor, a gentle yet aloof High Priest, and a devoted guard born into slavery all gather around the heroine. Yet beneath the seemingly peaceful story… a vast conspiracy lies hidden. Who will emerge as the final victor?

And what fate awaits the girl swept into it all by accident?

“Holy shit! Imperial Brother! I want to read it!” Shengsheng kicked her legs, eyes shining.

Weiqing Song absolutely had to write this!

Fusheng, who had still been speaking: “…?”

Not hearing Shengsheng’s thoughts sometimes made it genuinely difficult to follow the path of her mind.

Shengsheng coughed and said somewhat sheepishly, “I think I understand. You knew Meiren Liu’s identity from the beginning, so you deliberately allowed her to follow me into the palace?”

As expected of a villain. Everything was under his control.

But Fusheng answered, “I didn’t know.”

Shengsheng: ?

“Huh?”

He turned her to face him, tipped his head back against the pillar, and looked at her with weariness in his eyes. “If I’d known, Jierge would never have taken her out of the palace so easily.”

Jierge was a tribesman who coveted the treasure left by Qing Kingdom. There was nothing strange about that.

No wonder it had always felt as though he had been competing with Fusheng from the beginning.

So that was it.

On closer reflection, there had been many holes in what Jierge and Meiren Liu said back then.

But Shengsheng had never considered them carefully, so she had misunderstood Fusheng all this time.

She stroked his gaunt, pale face and asked with concern, “What’s wrong with your body?”
Catching the hand that caressed him, Fusheng Duan said lightly, “It’s nothing serious.”

“Nonsense. You cough blood all the time, and you call that nothing serious?” Shengsheng Zhou pinched his cheek.

Fusheng suddenly smiled. Beneath the moonlight, his flawless, striking face bloomed as brilliantly as spring flowers. “So you knew.”

Shengsheng’s gaze wandered. “I happened to hear Imperial Brother mention it.”

Fusheng graciously gave her a way out. “Mm. Happened to.”

Fusheng held her a little tighter. Unable to help herself, Shengsheng stroked his hair, thinking he seemed rather pitiful.

“I won’t ask how you did it. But don’t ever leave without a word again. Or… if you must go, take me with you.”

Shengsheng heard something break through the soil within her chest. A string no one had ever touched was plucked, leaving her entire body weak and aching.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She should not have misunderstood him, left him alone, or fled from her feelings time after time.

Outside Shengsheng’s view, Fusheng’s half-lidded eyes suddenly opened, and a keen gleam flashed through their unfathomable depths.

Why insist on being strong all the time? At times, a necessary show of weakness produced excellent results.

He would never again allow Shengsheng to leave without explanation. Even if they died, they had to die together.

…

“Sheng’er, wake up.”

Still dreaming, Shengsheng vaguely heard someone calling her. She finally forced her eyes open and saw Weiqing Song smiling warmly beside her, while the sky outside had yet to brighten fully.

“Imperial Brother, do you need something?”

*Are you all right in the head?! What damned hour is this, and you’re already waking me?!*

Weiqing sat beside her bed and said with a smile, “I do. Imperial Brother would like to watch the sunrise with you.”

The one rising in the west, no less. Was that not a rare sight?

*You’re finished, Weiqing Song. Truly.*

…

Weiqing was the first to notice that the atmosphere between the two had changed.

While the juvenile Siran Ming calmly refused to eat a meal that would make a pig vomit on the spot, and Xiyuan Duanmu argued with the five-year-old, Weiqing noticed Shengsheng and Fusheng exchanging a smile!

Exchanging a smile? Had he seen a ghost?

What had happened last night?

Faced with Weiqing’s suspicious gaze, Fusheng chose to ignore him completely.

“Mother, the God of Cookery entered my dream last night and taught me several methods for pickling vegetables. I plan to try them today,” Zhiyu Jiang suddenly said.

Busy arguing with the juvenile Siran, Xiyuan failed to notice how absurd the statement was and simply waved her hand in agreement.

Shengsheng seized the chance. “I’ll help you. I’m so curious. May I, Imperial Brother?”

Weiqing understood what she was planning. Truthfully, he also missed Shengsheng’s cooking, so he naturally agreed.

“Pickled vegetables require a jar. Do we have one at home?” As Shengsheng passed Fusheng, she secretly pressed something into his hand.

Hidden by the table, Fusheng glanced down. It was a pale purple flower.

Shengsheng had plucked it from an innocent crack between the stones in a fit of rage that morning, when Weiqing dragged her out to watch that damned sunrise.

At the mention of a jar, Weiqing rose, walked around the screen, and emerged holding a dusty vessel. “There is one here. Madam Duanmu has refined tastes. She ignores all those jade vases and favors this jar instead.” Take it for the pickles. Just looking at it was making his obsessive tendencies flare.

Who could have expected Xiyuan–who had still, still, still, still been arguing with little Siran–to glance over, turn deathly pale, collapse to her knees, and scream at the top of her lungs, “Release my parents!”

The smile at the corner of Weiqing’s mouth froze. He suddenly understood why the jar had looked so familiar…