Jing Hengbo’s figure appeared in the well.

In the dark well bottom with its mangled, bloody corpse, the scene was quite terrifying, yet at this moment she completely forgot to be afraid.

She didn’t look at the corpse—without looking she knew it was thoroughly dead, and she didn’t want to face that reality.

“Pei Shu…” she leaned against the well wall, calling softly, “Pei Shu, Pei Pei, Shu Shu, come out, come out…”

…In the darkness, someone’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

“Pei Shu…” Jing Hengbo felt along the well wall inch by inch, her voice gentler than it had ever been. “I know you’re not dead, I know you’re tricking me. You must want to see me panic, right? Mm-hmm, I admit it, I really am panicking… Do you have the heart to make me worry? Answer me once, okay?”

…In the darkness, his breathing was rapid. He opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly an ice-cold hand covered his mouth.

He tried to struggle, but the surroundings were extremely cramped—he couldn’t move at all.

“Little Shu Shu…” The rough well wall scraped Jing Hengbo’s fingers, but she seemed completely unaware. Her tone took on a coaxing quality: “Come out, stop fooling around. If you come out, we can talk about anything. If you’re unhappy and want a hug, that’s fine too. How about it? Want one?”

He struggled more fiercely, but that damned hand pressed tighter, and another pair of hands held down his body to prevent him from making noise.

He found it strange—how could this cramped space fit three people?

Jing Hengbo felt all around the bottom of the well, getting moss and blood all over her hands. The more she searched, the more desperate she became. Finally, exhausted, she collapsed to sit against the well wall, staring blankly at the sky. Master Mu’s face peered down from the well opening, his eyes full of worry. She could see clearly that dawn was approaching—this had truly been a night of rushing about, a heart-stopping night, a night of despair.

Seeing the concern in Master Mu’s eyes, her heart felt blocked. She pounded the well wall hard: “Pei Shu! What the hell do you mean? Are you messing with me? Faking death to scare me? Fine, you scared your sister a little bit, but didn’t you think about how to clean up this mess once you’ve gone too far? I’m counting to three—if you dare not come out, I’ll break off our friendship forever, really forever. Even if you come back, I’ll never acknowledge you. I mean what I say. I’m counting, I’m really counting: one…”

…He began trying to kick at the person restraining him and glared angrily at that hand, but unfortunately the hand seemed rooted in place and wouldn’t budge. His leg did kick out, quickly hitting the stone wall and causing sharp pain in his toes, then someone else pressed down on him again.

“One, two…” Jing Hengbo counted very slowly, her eyes looking this way and that, hoping that any moment someone would push open a section of stone wall beside her and stick out their head, flashing white teeth at her with a smile: “Hey, I was just joking with you. Did I scare you, Little Bo?”

There was no movement around her. The well walls were solid, echoes faint, the smell of blood thick, the corpse motionless, moss giving off a damp odor, blood pooled everywhere… This place was like hell on earth, and her heart felt like it had encountered hell too.

“…two point one, two point two, two point three…” She counted slower and slower.

Master Mu above couldn’t bear to listen anymore. He stretched out both hands toward her, signaling for her to come up quickly. If it weren’t for her being too lazy to clear away the steel spikes and having nowhere to stand if he jumped down, he would have wanted to go down and pull her up long ago.

This way she might be okay, but it was truly torture for others.

…In the darkness, he listened to that slow counting, feeling each number strike his heart. In his youth he had been spirited with martial ambitions, back then understanding only honor but not love, caring only for blood-stained battlefields. Now that he understood what it felt like to like someone, he didn’t know how to express that feeling. Direct and straightforward, still like wielding a sword with bold, sweeping moves, he thought love was just like that too—giving like a storm, bestowing gifts with domineering authority, granting favors that couldn’t be refused. As long as I give, you must accept.

However, now separated by the well wall, hearing her count so lingeringly, his heart that was hard as steel suddenly softened like the moss on these well walls—carrying fresh breath and life’s vitality, slightly moist, and able to squeeze out a pool of water when pressed.

He suddenly understood the true taste of infatuation—it was indeed like floating duckweed, swaying soft and bittersweet.

He suddenly understood that feeling of inexplicable relaxation and tenderness within love.

Separated by a wall, she ignored Master Mu’s outstretched hands and turned her head away.

“Two point nine point one… two point nine point two… two point nine point three…” Counting slower and slower, until “…two point nine point nine… two point nine point nine one…”

She suddenly stopped speaking.

Self-deception was ultimately because she didn’t want to face reality, but not wanting to face it didn’t mean she could avoid it. She once had the right to be a coward when she didn’t know the storms of the human world, but now she had nowhere to retreat.

She suddenly slammed her palm hard against the well wall.

The rough stone wall immediately cut her hand, but she was completely unaware. She suddenly held her head in both hands and began sobbing.

“Damn you, Pei Shu… you really won’t come out… Did you have to do this… Did you have to make me regret in this way…”

…In the darkness he shuddered, momentarily confused. After a while he remembered that he seemed to have quarreled with her before, seemed to have come to Shangyuan in a huff to rescue someone, seemed to have fought with her again after meeting in Shangyuan, and at the time he had said “Don’t regret it if you dare…”

Whether she regretted it now, he couldn’t guess, but he was already regretting it himself.

He had just said it casually, okay!

He had already forgotten, okay?

Sobbing sounds came from next door, and his struggling body shuddered, his whole person freezing.

Was she crying?

Was she… crying for him?

His first reaction was heartache. To use a phrase he used to find mushy, he really felt her crying made his heart ache. Yet within that pain, incredulous joy was faintly rising—is she crying for me? Is she really crying for me? So she doesn’t dislike me as much as I thought, and I’ve always held an important place in her heart!

For a moment he didn’t know whether to feel sad or happy, heartbroken or elated. He knew Jing Hengbo wasn’t one to cry easily—she’d rather curse with a smile than shed tears in complaint.

He thought with some distress that he seemed to have been infected by that brocade-clad man’s perversion…

“…Wuu wuu wuu, I really regret it… I shouldn’t have quarreled with you… I shouldn’t have treated you so roughly… I should have at least coaxed you first and explained things clearly… I regret it… I admit I regret it, you win… just don’t punish me this way…”

Pei Shu flew into a rage, reaching out to pry away the hand covering his mouth. Though he perversely wanted to hear more of Jing Hengbo’s crying—this was the first time she had cried for him and probably the last—he understood even more clearly that if he didn’t get out now, he’d be crying for the rest of his life.

That hand wouldn’t let go, so he threw a punch. The other person seemed not to have expected that with his serious hand injury he could still throw such a violent punch. With a bang, this punch landed squarely in the abdomen. Wind whistled as that person seemed to be knocked flying. The other person responsible for holding down his hands hurried to rescue his companion. Free of restraint, Pei Shu was overjoyed and quickly turned over, about to push against the stone wall behind him.

Judging by the sound, only a wall separated him from Jing Hengbo. There must be a way to push it open.

Just as his fingers touched the stone wall, someone suddenly grabbed his ankle. Those hands were like steel clamps—once they grabbed him they pressed his pressure points, and numbness shot through his whole body. He couldn’t even make a sound, then like a sack he was dragged away…

The young marshal watched helplessly as he was pulled farther and farther from that stone wall, his furious fists pounding hard against the ground…

…

The sound of crying echoed in the narrow well, sounding even more stifling and depressing. Master Mu could bear it no longer and jumped down despite the danger of the steel spikes.

Jing Hengbo was crying her heart out. Looking up and seeing him, she waved her hand and swept the steel spikes aside.

This action brought Master Mu genuine comfort and gratitude—grateful that she could still think of him at this time. She was becoming more and more considerate and thoughtful, which made her all the more heartbreaking.

He quickly went over and gathered her into his arms.

At this moment Jing Hengbo had no romantic thoughts, only infinite sorrow and regret. At such a time, anyone’s shoulder would be a longed-for support. She immediately collapsed against him, using his clothes as a towel, tears soaking his entire shoulder. While crying she pounded her fists: “That bastard! That temperamental freak with no hope of being cured! At his age, no emotional intelligence! What’s he being stubborn about, what tantrums is he throwing! Acting like what hero, showing off what abilities? Doesn’t he know that in this vast world, life is most precious? He’s deliberately making it so I can’t live peacefully! Waaaah…”

“Don’t cry… don’t cry…” Master Mu stroked her shoulders. His usually eloquent tongue was now choked in his throat, reduced to repeating these two words over and over.

In his heart he didn’t know whether it was pity or bitterness—pity for her burdens, bitterness that the outcome was so hard to accept. He couldn’t help wondering: if he died, would she cry like this for him too?

Thinking this way, he couldn’t help but smile at his own pettiness, calculating like a woman. But in matters of emotion, who could truly be magnanimous?

He raised his hand and touched the mask on his face. Many times, he really wanted to just tear off this mask and tell Jing Hengbo that he was Yelu Qi.

The identity of Master Mu really had no need to be hidden from her.

He really wanted to hold her in his arms as himself, not as this increasingly inexplicable Master Mu.

However, ever since that person had interfered, this mask seemed to have become difficult to remove. He was afraid that if he tore off the mask, she would forever treat him only as Yelu Qi and never be able to truly draw close.

She had some inexplicable, elusive feelings for Master Mu, not for Yelu Qi.

Only while he was still Master Mu would she sometimes unconsciously be intimate with him due to confusion and mixed feelings.

He just wanted to wear this mask and have the chance to get closer to her, ever closer, until Yelu Qi’s Master Mu gradually replaced that person’s Master Mu. This was his only opportunity.

Yet this intimacy was ultimately borrowed from someone else’s glory, obtained through deceiving her—how could he bear it?

His fingers had already touched the edge of the mask but slowly stopped.

In the end, he couldn’t bear to let go.

Even if her current embrace was because she thought in her heart he was that other person, he accepted it.

How could he let go of this embrace? How could he return to being friends who were close at hand yet far as the horizon?

How could he possess her after the fragrant tears on his shoulder dried and he tore away the mask?

He sighed gently, hugged her tightly, and stroked her slightly trembling shoulders. Though the smell of blood at the bottom of the well was thick and overwhelming, he only smelled the bitter scent of her tears.

She trembled slightly in his arms like a flower shivering after rain. He treasured her current helpless softness, only regretting that he wasn’t the tree standing in her heart, shielding her from all the storms of this human world.

Her crying gradually grew quieter and she began murmuring curses—this was the sign that her emotions were adjusting. He sighed inwardly, marveling at her remarkable resilience. It was precisely because of this resilience and brilliance that they all loved her.

He looked up at the well opening. From down here, the well opening framed the narrowest piece of sky.

The way out of emotional entanglements seemed the same—the further you went, the narrower it became.

His entire emotional life seemed to have only one wish left:

But I hope you can fall in love with the real me.

…

Pei Shu was dragged through the passageway.

In the passage connected to the well wall, he left behind a trail of fist prints from pounding as he was dragged.

Suddenly his eyes brightened—he was out of the passage. Pei Shu turned his head and indeed saw that universally unparalleled, most detestable face of the brocade-clad man.

Staring at that face, Pei Shu’s mind calculated the specific operational process of finding a hundred men to sleep with him.

But the brocade-clad man seemed to look upon him very favorably, kindly instructing people to help him up and bandage his wounds. Two extremely short people ran over, one of them looking at him with a cowering expression. Only then did Pei Shu understand that the ones who had held him down in the well wall tunnel earlier were two dwarfs. One of them had taken his punch, which was why he was so wary of him.

Looking back at that passage, it was as narrow as a snake hole, probably not designed for people to walk through at all but had other uses.

When he had fallen earlier, there was already a net laid in the well. The moment he hit the net, he saw someone thrown down from a hole in the well wall, landing on the steel spikes. Then the net was pulled up and he was dragged into the hole in the well wall, held down by the two dwarfs.

Because the hole was so small, the exit must also be small, hidden among a patch of moss. Yelu Qi and Jing Hengbo’s thinking wasn’t wrong—they thought there might be passages in the well, but they both made the error of fixed thinking, always assuming that if there were tunnels they must be able to accommodate people entering. Holes that were too small simply weren’t reasonable. So when exploring, they only estimated ranges that could at least allow a person to enter crouching, never thinking to press on those protruding stone blocks that were only slightly thicker than a waist.

The tunnel where Pei Shu was located couldn’t allow normal passage—only one person could lie down to get through, or perhaps children could pass. But the brocade-clad man had dwarfs, and he had kept his dwarfs hidden all along. Neither Jing Hengbo nor Yelu Qi had seen them.

Looking around again, Pei Shu found himself in a brightly lit hall. The brocade-clad man and his guards were all there, everyone looking composed, not taking the recent events seriously at all.

Pei Shu’s anger shot upward. He shoved away the dwarf who was bandaging him: “Get lost.”

As he said this, he was startled to suddenly discover that his originally heart-piercingly painful arm no longer hurt so much. His arm felt cool and slightly itchy—he immediately recognized this as an extremely rare healing elixir.

“Am I good to you or not?” the brocade-clad man smiled at him. “I’m using my mansion’s secret healing elixir—it removes rot and regenerates flesh. With your kind of bone-scraping injury, after using this you can basically recover to original condition.”

Pei Shu stared at him, every hair on his body standing on end—why was this guy suddenly being so nice to him? He didn’t have those kinds of preferences, did he?

No way! Every part of his body, from top to bottom, was reserved for Little Bo!

How should he resist unto death…

“Once someone hugged my leg begging for this medicine, and I didn’t give it to them,” the brocade-clad man continued showing off his generosity.

Without a word, Pei Shu raised his hand to tear off the bandaging cloth—he didn’t want to accept this pervert’s kindness.

“Hey hey, don’t be so willful.” The brocade-clad man personally stepped forward to hold him down, but then smiled again: “I just appreciate your willfulness. Even if you don’t want it, I’m still giving it to you.”

Pei Shu heard this as “Even if you don’t want me, I still want you,” and immediately felt his vision go black—ah, he’s a cut-sleeve!

How could he preserve his chastity under threat from a powerful cut-sleeve?

Only through death.

Pei Shu was very unwilling. He still had many things to do—he still wanted revenge, to kill people, to conquer the world, to marry Jing Hengbo. Having just escaped death, he was very attached to life, but for some people, some things were more important than life, such as absolutely refusing to be used as a woman, absolutely refusing to accept such humiliation!

The brocade-clad man was rummaging through his clothes…

Pei Shu closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and bit down hard with his teeth!

“My medicine contains eighteen kinds of…” the brocade-clad man was still boasting about his medicine when he looked up and saw Pei Shu’s action. Startled, with no time for anything else, he could only shove his fist into Pei Shu’s wide-open mouth.

Pei Shu’s mouth was blocked by the fist, his eyes bulging wide, “Mmm mmm mmm” in protest.

The brocade-clad man cried “Aiyou” and cursed: “Biting like a dog!”

He pulled his fist out, afraid Pei Shu would inexplicably try to kill himself again. He grabbed a cloth from the table and stuffed it in his mouth, then quickly ordered someone to bring a towel to wipe his hand: “Saliva! Disgusting, so disgusting!”

“Mmm mmm mmm…” Pei Shu’s eyes bulged even wider, as if he had something urgent to say.

The brocade-clad man paid him no attention, urgently wiping and washing his hands. Pei Shu struggled for quite a while before finally spitting out the cloth with a “ptui,” spitting out dirty water while staring at the thoroughly disgusted brocade-clad man. After a long moment he said: “You don’t like…”

“I don’t like saliva!”

“No, I mean…” Pei Shu said with difficulty, “…men?”

The question was inexplicable, but the brocade-clad man actually understood. He stopped wiping his hands and stepped back with a whoosh: “You’re a cut-sleeve?”

“Bullshit.” Pei Shu glared furiously. “You’re the cut-sleeve!”

“You’re overthinking it.” The brocade-clad man finally understood where this guy’s thoughts had wandered, shaking his head repeatedly.

The guards chuckled—really overthinking it! Their master just had a strange personality: you couldn’t ask him for his things—if you asked, he definitely wouldn’t give them, but if you didn’t ask, he absolutely had to give them to you. Just like with him and Miss Wen… forget it, forget it, better not think about that demon king, thinking about her gives him a headache.

Only then did Pei Shu relax. While thinking “that was close, almost died in vain,” he stood up: “Looking at you, you don’t plan to make things difficult for me anymore. Well then, farewell. Preferably forever.”

He dusted off his bottom and walked away. After fighting this battle, he had also figured out the brocade-clad man’s personality. Since Jing Hengbo had already completed the three challenges and made the brocade-clad man suffer losses, this proud fellow wouldn’t make further trouble over this matter.

The brocade-clad man didn’t stop him either, leisurely cracking sunflower seeds. Only when he was almost out the door did he unhurriedly ask: “Where are you going?”

“Nonsense.”

“You’re going to find Jing Hengbo now,” the brocade-clad man said. “You’ll truly have no chance for the rest of your life.”

Pei Shu stopped in his tracks.

He naturally understood the brocade-clad man’s meaning. Once he went out, Jing Hengbo would realize he must have been right next to the well wall, deliberately not speaking to torment her, and would inevitably be furious.

But he still said: “I’d rather have her angry than sad. Besides, if I explain clearly to her, Little Bo won’t blame me.”

The brocade-clad man’s eyes showed slight appreciation. He felt that Pei Shu appeared hot-tempered but was actually careful, calm and decisive at crucial moments, and abundantly brave—truly worthy of being a famous general.

“But don’t you want her to truly fall in love with you?” he smiled, his voice slow and leisurely.

Pei Shu felt his tone was as tempting as a devil’s. He didn’t want to listen, but somehow his feet couldn’t step out. He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows slanting upward: “Hmm?”

“If you go out right now, she’ll first be ecstatic, then angry, then calm, and finally, without guilt, she might even suspect you deliberately made her worry. After all, you said before that you’d make her regret it. With your personality, doing such a thing is possible. So after the initial joy, she might not necessarily believe your explanation. Her feelings for you won’t increase because of this—they might even decrease. The best result would just be returning to how things were before.”

Pei Shu fell silent. The brocade-clad man was truly a devil, the kind that lived in people’s hearts. He used his insight into human nature to analyze everyone, and no one could resist standing before his mirror.

“But if you don’t go out now, it will be different,” the brocade-clad man said leisurely. “Facing tragic news, everyone’s emotions go through a process from peak to valley, followed by a period of brooding. After Jing Hengbo suffers the blow of your death, because of that guilt and unease, she’ll miss you. People naturally smooth over regrets and automatically beautify things that are lost. So in her longing, you’ll become more and more perfect, more and more loyal, more and more worthy of nostalgia. Her feelings for you will deepen, resentment will grow less and less, and she’ll definitely prefer to give up what she currently has just to have you alive again. When you appear before her then, she’ll have only gratitude left in her heart. I’ll make you look very haggard when you leave to show you’ve suffered plenty during this time. She’ll feel even more guilty and be doubly gentle. Not only will she not hold you accountable for concealing the truth, but because of these feelings of gratitude and pity, over time she might even develop transferred affection toward you…”

The guards were dumbfounded—this this this… was this still their master who didn’t like talking much with stupid humans?

Also, when did he become an emotional guru? He spoke so systematically and it did sound quite impressive, but if he was so impressive, why hadn’t he won over Miss Wen yet?

Or was their master only good at advising others but not at performing himself?

Then again, Miss Wen couldn’t be considered normal either…

Pei Shu stood with one foot outside the threshold and one inside, not moving for a long time. Clearly, the brocade-clad man’s words had struck deep into his heart.

He had to admit that in terms of insight into human nature, this person’s skill had reached perfection.

He could even grasp everyone’s subtle reactions to every matter, from beginning to end.

He knew these words were correct.

Going out now, after Jing Hengbo’s great sorrow and joy, she would inevitably be angry. Without guilt, at most they’d return to the starting point.

Going out after “enduring countless hardships,” with Jing Hengbo’s longing and guilt resulting in only gratitude and joy, treating him especially differently from then on—this was very possible.

What he wanted was exactly that difference.

He couldn’t help but be moved.

The brocade-clad man silently counted, waiting for him to turn around, smiling with composure.

“What you said is very right,” Pei Shu finally said.

The brocade-clad man’s smile was perfect. He liked perfection, liked things proceeding according to his thoughts with perfection.

“But I’m still leaving.”

The brocade-clad man’s smile froze imperfectly.

“Your brain really does have problems…”

“Everything in the world has advantages and disadvantages, but if everything were done based on pros and cons, then everyone would be very cold, and this world wouldn’t be a world anymore.” Pei Shu turned to lecture him: “I know what you said is right, but that’s the woman I love. Even if I can’t marry her or sleep with her or pamper her for life, as long as I’m alive, I have the responsibility to love her and protect her, not letting anyone—including myself—hurt her.”

“I’ll say it again: I’d rather have her hate me for life than have her sad for even a moment.” Pei Shu glanced at him with contempt: “My brain is fine—it’s your heart that has problems.”

The brocade-clad man raised his eyebrows, looking at him for a long time as if not recognizing him, his eyes flickering slightly. After a while he smiled.

“I admit I misjudged you,” he said with a smile. Just as Pei Shu was proudly raising his eyebrows, he heard the brocade-clad man continue: “So you’re actually a romantic saint.”

Pei Shu snorted and lifted his leg to leave—he didn’t want to talk more with this heartless monster.

He still couldn’t cross that threshold.

Because the brocade-clad man swept over and struck him on the back of the head.

Pei Shu turned around in disbelief, staring at him, saying hoarsely: “You sneak attacked…” Before he could finish, he collapsed softly.

The brocade-clad man didn’t bother to catch him, letting him fall with a bang at his feet.

The great master felt no shame at all about attacking from behind, casually kicking Pei Shu: “Though you also have some logic and almost moved me, I don’t like my plans being disrupted.” He smiled casually: “I want to see exactly whom Her Majesty the Queen loves. How dare you not fulfill my wish?”

At this kick, Pei Shu slightly opened his eyes. He saw him holding his hand up to his eyes, examining the tooth marks from earlier very carefully. Pei Shu had bitten quite hard then, so there was now a blood mark on the back of his hand that wouldn’t fade immediately. He looked at the tooth marks on his right hand, then at his smooth left hand back, his expression very displeased: “It’s asymmetrical… why don’t you bite once more?”

Pei Shu’s eyes rolled back.

This time he was truly shocked unconscious.

…

Outside Shangyuan City, what had originally been a buffer zone of mutual non-interference with the three counties began slowly gathering many people starting last night, shivering in the cold wind while craning their necks to gaze at the mighty city ahead.

Many people’s eyes flashed with anticipation and excitement, but even more showed hesitation and uncertainty.

At the very front of the crowd, several old men were also whispering among themselves.

“Old Chang, is what you’re doing really appropriate? Your idea is good—letting the people personally witness the Queen’s courage and love for her subjects—but mobilizing so many people like this, if the Queen can’t rescue anyone or even gets herself into an embarrassing situation, she’ll never be able to save face again!” Great Sage Qu Ti was still worrying.

Chang Fang stroked his beard and gave him a sideways glance.

“When have my judgments about the Queen ever been wrong? If I were wrong even once, would you Qu Ti be here in Daimao now?”

“I really don’t know where you get such confidence in the Queen!” Qu Ti stamped his feet. “Fine, fine, it’s too late to say anything now. You didn’t even give a heads up before having people notify the citizens. Now more and more people are gathering. If she can’t get out, let’s see how you handle this!”

“She’ll get out,” Chang Fang only stroked his beard and smiled. “Want to make another bet?”

“Bet then—I don’t believe I’ll lose again this time.” Qu Ti looked at the mighty city across from them, really unable to believe that someone of the Queen’s status could openly enter and exit alone.

If Ming Yan’an let her swagger in and out like this, wouldn’t he be defeated without a fight?

“Last time you lost the bet and followed me to Daimao. If you lose again this time, not only must you pay money, but don’t leave the Queen’s side anymore either.”

“Hmph.” Qu Ti gave him a big eye roll.

Behind them, more and more people gathered, everyone curious. Shangyuan was known as an iron city. For so many years, the rulers of the three counties had changed batch after batch, but no one had ever been able to openly enter Shangyuan successfully, let alone rescue hostages completely intact. When the citizens first received notification, they didn’t really believe it—first, they didn’t believe the Queen would truly risk entering enemy territory alone to rescue just one female official; second, they didn’t believe the Queen could actually rescue people from among three hundred thousand soldiers and civilians under Ming Yan’an’s towering hostility and obstruction.

So the people endured the cold, waiting outside the city even through snow, not so much waiting for the Queen as waiting to witness a miracle, waiting for hope.

The crowd was also whispering among themselves.

“Do you think the Queen can rescue them?”

“Come on, if she can just get out safely herself, I’ll prostrate myself in worship. Rescue people? Are three hundred thousand soldiers and civilians dead? Is Ming Yan’an dead?”

“True, so shall we bet on whether she can get out intact?”

“Stop betting—it’s ten to one odds and no one’s buying her victory!”

…

In Shangyuan Palace.

The brocade-clad man had Pei Shu taken away to rest while he himself drank tea and rested in the front hall. This was another empty palace near Ningxue Pavilion. Since he was staying in Ningxue Pavilion, he had naturally turned over every piece of land there within the first moments, immediately mastering things like secret passages.

Before long, Ming Yan’an hurried over, his expression quite frantic. Without exchanging pleasantries, he opened by asking: “How has sir failed me!”

The brocade-clad man glanced at him: “Don’t talk like you’re my lover.”

Ming Yan’an’s face reddened then paled. He said angrily: “This prince provided sir with countless conveniences and trusted sir. Last night I ordered all guards not to approach the vicinity of Ningxue Pavilion. Even when Ningxue Pavilion was destroyed, no one came to interfere. Yet sir failed to capture them!”

“Did I promise you I would capture them?” the brocade-clad man said leisurely. “I only said I was interested and would take action.” He pointed outside the door, showing no guest awareness: “I need to catch up on sleep, hurry up and leave. Also, let me remind you—you still have a little chance now, but if you don’t go, you won’t have any chance at all.”

Ming Yan’an was furious and turned to leave, thinking about how to drive away this shameless person, when he heard him say lightly: “If you ask me, let her come if she wants—a breeze over the mountains. Whether she comes or not is one thing, but whether she can stand firm after coming is another matter.”

Ming Yan’an’s heart stirred and he couldn’t help turning back: “Sir means that in the future you’ll still…”

“Let’s see if she has the ability to get in again first. Otherwise you won’t be satisfied either right now.” The brocade-clad man comfortably hugged his tender yellow pillow and lay down: “She really has aroused my interest…”

The corner of his mouth curved up in an interested smile, thinking those few people were indeed interesting. After playing enough, he could also send a gift as compensation.

Sigh, who told him to be so kindhearted that he couldn’t bear to watch bitter dramas of destined but separated lovers playing guessing games…

Ming Yan’an stepped across the threshold with frustration. After thinking it over, he ultimately shook his head.

How could he let her take over the magpie’s nest? How could he place all his hopes on an outsider with no stake in the matter?

Once he let her occupy Shangyuan Palace, if the brocade-clad man failed to drive her out, wouldn’t he be completely defeated?

No matter what, even if the entire city had to mobilize, he must block Jing Hengbo outside Shangyuan’s city walls!

…