The room fell into silence. Jun Beiyue stopped just before Ziqing. Ziqing seemed not to see him at all, her eyes hollow and empty.
She was the kind of person who refused absolutely—just as she’d said, even if it had been Jun Beiyue who betrayed her today, she could never possibly forgive it.
Love completely, or not at all—people like this were the strongest of all, and yet somewhere deep in their hearts lay a spot more fragile than anyone else’s, unable to withstand even the slightest blow.
Seeing Ziqing’s expression up close—the look of someone wanting to cry but forcing herself not to—filled Jun Beiyue with both aching tenderness and love. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and cherish her.
He smiled helplessly. “Silly girl, what’s there to be upset about? Haven’t we already washed this over, again and again? This prince is still clean. My heart has always been clean.”
As he spoke, he suddenly reached out and threw back the thick tablecloth. Beneath it, hidden within the table itself, was a mechanism—a long, narrow groove carved into the wood. And there, lying quietly within it, ancient and mysterious, was Wuzheng, silent, motionless—and its very presence explained everything.
Jun Beiyue had known all along. He had long ago switched it out, replacing the real with a fake. Everything Shiliang had just said outside was nothing but a provocation meant to sow discord—nothing but Jun Beiyue’s own scheme, turned around and used against her.
Ziqing stared at Wuzheng, dazed. But she wasn’t foolish—she understood at once. For a mission as important as the one given by the Empress of Eastern Qin to fail, caught in Jun Beiyue’s trap, Shiliang must have gone to considerable lengths.
She slowly raised her head to look at Jun Beiyue. He was just about to explain, but Ziqing stopped him. “I understand everything.”
Only then did Jun Beiyue let out a breath of relief. He had never imagined he could grow so tense—every pore on his body standing on end—over the mere expression on a woman’s face, nor that a single sentence from her could leave him so instantly at ease, his entire mood rising and falling with her every word.
What he feared most of all was that she might not understand.
But just as Jun Beiyue relaxed, Ziqing suddenly flared with fury. “You really did carry her!”
The instant those words left her mouth, Jun Beiyue was stunned.
“Tell me—did you really carry her?” Ziqing’s voice grew even angrier. For the first time in his life, Jun Beiyue was being shouted at like this—and by a woman, no less.
“Answer me!” Ziqing furiously drew her blade. She understood? Understand my ass! Understand!
She didn’t understand at all!
“Yes,” Jun Beiyue answered, decisively and honestly.
“How did you carry her?” Ziqing demanded at once.
“It was only for a moment, when she fainted—it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as she made it sound!” Jun Beiyue explained hastily, instinctively not daring to say more. “She’d already been bought off by Xuanyuan Lige, and then later because of the Empress of Eastern Qin—”
“I don’t want explanations! Carried is carried!” Ziqing shouted furiously.
Jun Beiyue—a grown man, a mighty war god of a prince—obediently shut his mouth, not daring to explain further.
“Exactly how did you carry her!” Ziqing pressed on.
Jun Beiyue didn’t dare make a sound, belatedly realizing that he had somehow become… a henpecked husband.
“Speak!”
Only when Ziqing told him to did he finally dare open his mouth. “Just… just like this.” He demonstrated timidly, not daring to meet her eyes.
Ziqing glared at him for a long, long moment, then suddenly threw a hard punch straight into his shoulder, so furious she was nearly out of her mind. “Jun Beiyue, I told you! I told you, I told you, I told you!”
Jun Beiyue asked meekly, “You… told me what, exactly?”
“On Liuxian Island, I told you! From that moment on, you were mine!” Ziqing raged.
Jun Beiyue froze, and for the first time in his life felt his usually cold, impassive face grow strangely warm.
Tonight, it seemed, was destined to be full of firsts.
Slowly, he began to calm down, his composure returning. He grew less timid, his handsome face flushing faintly, as if he’d had too much wine, gazing at Ziqing now with utter seriousness.
And once Jun Beiyue stopped being timid, Ziqing suddenly found her own fury draining away as well. She had clearly just said those words aloud—but only now, belatedly, did she realize what she had actually said.
In an instant, her small face flushed bright red as well—redder than Jun Beiyue’s, seven parts more crimson. What on earth had come over her just now?
She had been genuinely angry, yes, but not angry enough to have exploded like that, frightening Jun Beiyue so badly.
In an instant, all her fire went out, and she looked at Jun Beiyue with timid, uncertain eyes.
Jun Beiyue wanted very much to laugh, wanted very much to tell this woman how much he adored her when she was jealous. “That… woman… how about… how about…”
Ziqing waited earnestly, her mind still a little muddled, unable to guess what he might say.
“How about we wash it off again, if you still feel it’s dirty,” Jun Beiyue said timidly.
Ziqing’s face flushed red all over again, a breath caught in her chest that she couldn’t seem to release no matter what she did.
Seeing this, the playful glint in Jun Beiyue’s eyes only deepened. “That… this prince promises he’ll never hide anything from you again, promises he’ll listen to whatever you say, promises he’ll remember, every moment of every day… that this prince belongs to you!”
At those words, Ziqing—who hadn’t wanted to cry a moment ago—now truly felt like crying. She buried her face straight into Jun Beiyue’s chest, her face burning so red the flush spread all the way down her neck.
But Jun Beiyue was still teasing her, gently stroking her back, speaking in a tone heavy with sincerity. “There, there, this prince really has remembered. This prince belongs to you, from head to toe, entirely.”
Ziqing didn’t lift her head. Instead, she reached out and pinched Jun Beiyue’s waist hard, pinching viciously until he was forced to shut up.
How could there be such a shameless man in this world? He was clearly the one in the wrong, and yet he was so shamelessly smooth about it that she couldn’t even bring herself to look him in the eye.
“Don’t say another word!” Ziqing warned loudly.
“Fine, I’ll keep it in my heart forever!” Jun Beiyue answered just as loudly.
“Argh! You scoundrel!” Ziqing cried out.
“Well… I already belong to you now. Scoundrel or not, you’ll just have to accept it.”
“Shut up!”
“Silly girl, why act so reserved all the time? Bicker and tease with this prince more—this prince will only love you more for it!”
“Why did you hide it from me? Tell me!”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t agree to the poison-raising.”
“Then why tell me now?”
“You’re so prone to jealousy—if you were actually jealous over something real, I don’t think I could bear it!”
“…”
“I refuse to let her help cure my poison. I’ll find the secret of the lone island myself! As soon as we get back, we’re going straight to Liuxian Island to find the Sacred Tree!”
“That… this prince will think about it.”
“You have to promise me! Even if you manage to cultivate an antidote, I won’t take it—it disgusts me!”
“Repeat what you just said, and I’ll agree.”
“What did I say?”
Ziqing paused, realizing she rarely bantered and teased so freely with Jun Beiyue like this—yet somehow it had come so naturally, like a pair of bickering lovers.
“That this prince belongs to you,” Jun Beiyue answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
This time, Ziqing’s face didn’t flush red—it went straight to green.
“Just teasing, just teasing!” Jun Beiyue couldn’t hold back his laughter. “All right, I’ll agree to it. Even though Shiliang’s constitution is rare, finding the antidote doesn’t have to depend on that alone!”
Only then did Ziqing let out a breath of relief, her mood—which had been sinking ever since Shiliang’s betrayal—lifted considerably by Jun Beiyue’s teasing.
“Silly girl…” Jun Beiyue murmured fondly, ruffling her bangs, though a shadow of cold malice flickered briefly across his eyes. Shiliang—did he plan to let her go? Never.