Beyond the densely constructed halls and chambers facing the street and river, Wanhong Tower also had over a dozen secluded and quiet courtyards layered with terraces, pools, and pavilions.
Rounding a rockery made of lake stones, he followed the greeter into a quiet courtyard.
Sitting in the familiar small reception hall, Han Qian gazed at the pool of decorative carp in the courtyard, feeling his heart tighten in waves.
His fingers turned pale from clenching as he forcefully suppressed the impulse to turn and flee madly. He truly didn’t know whether Yao Xishui would walk in next, forcing herself to remain calm while probing his intentions, or whether two masked men would simply burst in and stab him to death with a single blade.
Before entering Wanhong Tower, Han Qian had thought that with Feng Yi and Kong Xirong accompanying him, Yao Xishui and her people would have scruples. But once he truly entered, he realized what it felt like to be in genuine danger—all his previous confident assumptions couldn’t alleviate the tension and fear in his heart.
This was gambling with his own life! The extreme thrill was probably no less than those desperate gamblers in his dreams playing Russian roulette!
Just as Han Qian was lost in thought, he suddenly caught a fragrant breeze passing through the room. Looking up, he saw the doorway darken as Yao Xishui, wearing a purple-red dress, appeared outside. She wore no heavy makeup, her hair was pinned askew, and her delicate features still revealed a trace of afternoon languor.
A ray of sunlight filtered through the tree shade, falling on Yao Xishui’s jade-white cheeks and creating a luminous glow. Her entire small face was completely filled with youthful vitality—though Yao Xishui had become famous in Jinling City not long ago, she was actually only eighteen years old, at an age so tender she could be squeezed for water.
But the slight twitch at the corner of her eye revealed that Yao Xishui’s tension at this moment was not necessarily any weaker than his own—at this moment, Han Qian suddenly relaxed.
“Miss Yao stands outside the door—could it be that seeing me come calling feels very unexpected?” Han Qian asked, staring into Yao Xishui’s inscrutable eyes, truly not knowing how many men in this city were lost in those eyes, completely unable to detect the fierce killing intent hidden within them.
“Young Master Han hasn’t come to Wanhong Tower for a while. Xishui thought Young Master Han had found a new love and forgotten about Xishui!” Yao Xishui said with a forced smile, glancing back as if displeased that the maid hadn’t yet brought tea.
“I haven’t yet plucked Miss Xishui’s red pill. Even if I had a new love, I wouldn’t forget what’s here,” Han Qian said, seeing Yao Xishui’s silk-slippered foot arch slightly at that moment.
Just then, a maid from Yao Xishui’s quarters brought tea over. Han Qian remained silent.
After the maid set down the tea cups and left, Yao Xishui entered and closed the door behind her with her hand. Only then did she change to a face wreathed in smiles and say to Han Qian, “It’s been a while since we met, and Young Master Han is still so amusing—please, have some tea, and tell Xishui why you thought of coming to see me today?”
“I want Miss Xishui to give me another cup of poisoned wine to drink,” Han Qian said.
Seeing Yao Xishui react as if stung, Han Qian smiled and asked, “What, does Miss Xishui think I would treat what happened that night as a dream?”
“Hearing Young Master Han say this, I truly believe Young Master Han has come to request poisoned tea…” Seeing Han Qian lay all his cards on the table, Yao Xishui also calmly sat down and pushed the tea cup toward Han Qian, as if it truly were a cup of poisoned tea, to see whether Han Qian had the courage to drink it in her presence.
Han Qian silently cursed himself—why the hell was he showing off? If he didn’t drink this tea, his momentum would weaken. But if he drank it and truly dropped dead, wouldn’t he be at a huge loss?
“…” Han Qian took the tea cup in hand, wondering whether he should splash the hot tea in his hand onto this little bitch’s face.
“By the way, why must Young Master Han come to request a cup of poisoned tea?” Yao Xishui asked at this moment.
“My Han family’s private slave Fan Wucheng was killed by a tenant farmer at the manor. When my father rushed to the manor, before I could tell him about Miss Yao’s nighttime visit, he was completely worried that my going to accompany the Third Imperial Prince in his studies would bring him disaster. Tell me, isn’t that ridiculous?”
Han Qian set down the scalding tea cup, staring into Yao Xishui’s eyes as he spoke.
“Having experienced this nightmare, I’ve finally figured it out. My second uncle deliberately indulged my dissolute behavior in Xuanzhou with sinister motives, while my birth father sees me in this state as hopeless and feels disgusted—after only three or four months together, he drove me to the manor so he wouldn’t have to see me. And now I’ve been selected to accompany the Third Imperial Prince in his studies. In my father’s view, I might bring him disaster in the future, so he’d rather see me die of sudden illness at the manor. Miss Yao, tell me—someone as worthless as me, useless to keep, an eyesore to behold, possibly even capable of ruining Miss Yao’s grand plan—am I not qualified to request a cup of poisoned tea at Wanhong Tower? Miss Yao, you’ve gone to such lengths wanting me to die of sudden illness so that a slot for the Third Imperial Prince’s companions would open up—isn’t that what you were thinking?”
Yao Xishui forced herself to remain calm, not letting her hand resting on the table tremble.
Though Yao Xishui was young, aside from her training since childhood, since opening her establishment she had circulated among those cunning, lust-filled, ugly men, experiencing who knows what countless difficulties every day. She thought she had long since seen through the twists of human hearts and believed she could conceal her inner thoughts without a ripple.
Yet at this moment, Yao Xishui felt the awkward embarrassment of being stripped naked by the youth before her.
When Han Qian burst in, Yao Xishui’s first thought was that this useless privileged son had rashly come to confront her. She had prepared many countermeasures—if worst came to worst, she would stab him to death with scissors, claiming he violated Wanhong Tower’s rules and forcibly tried to have his way with her. At most, she would sacrifice herself to patch up this vulnerability. But she never expected he had come to “bare his heart”!
Indeed, they wanted to place someone beside the Third Imperial Prince Yang Yuanpu.
Though Feng Yi and Kong Xirong had terrible reputations, Feng Yi was deeply loved by Feng Wenlan’s legitimate mother, and Kong Xirong was Kong Zhou’s only son. If anything happened to them, the Feng and Kong families would find it hard to accept and might easily imagine conspiracies.
In comparison, Han Qian was the best target.
Han Daoxun was cautious as an official and quite valued his reputation. His family had produced such an unfilial son who refused to repent despite repeated scoldings—even the household guards looked down on him. If such a person died of sudden illness, he would probably be the least likely to be investigated, right?
After the poisoning failed, Yao Xishui had been panicked until today, but her mistress told her to have people watch the Han residence’s every move and not act rashly again, lest the situation become worse.
Her mistress had speculated that even if Han Daoxun knew about this matter, he might not dare lift the lid, since Han Daoxun didn’t know how deep the whole affair ran. But Yao Xishui hadn’t expected that not only had Han Qian not told his father Han Daoxun about this, he had actually come to bare his heart?
Of course, Yao Xishui wasn’t stupid enough to truly believe that Han Qian had run to Wanhong Tower right after returning to the city to genuinely request this cup of poisoned tea!
“Young Master Han is so good at joking, talking as if our Wanhong Tower really has poisoned tea,” Yao Xishui said with a charming smile. “Besides, Young Master Han doesn’t seem like the type to request poisoned tea!”
“Miss Yao still understands my thoughts. But since I’ve already become an abandoned pawn, whether or not I drink this cup of poisoned tea is no longer for me to decide,” Han Qian said with a sigh. “Unless Miss Yao’s affection for me is a bit deeper than for that dead Fan Wucheng, and you feel I’m somewhat more useful than that fool Fan Wucheng, perhaps I won’t have to drink this cup of poisoned tea!”
Yao Xishui’s extremely beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze becoming increasingly sharp, as if she wanted to dig out Han Qian’s heart to judge the truth or falsehood of his words.
“Tap tap tap!” At that moment, someone at the back window lightly knocked on it with their fingers.
Han Qian guessed that his bursting in had certainly caused no small disturbance at Wanhong Tower, but he truly hadn’t sensed anyone standing at the back window eavesdropping inside.
Yao Xishui’s body moved lightly like a colorful butterfly as she went out.
The hall fell silent like a windless lake surface for a thousand miles. Han Qian’s mind tightened again—whether he could persuade the master behind Wanhong Tower would be revealed when Yao Xishui returned.
The soundless silence was most difficult to endure. Two hundred counts seemed to pass like a century.
Han Qian silently counted in his mind. Besides easing his inner tension, he could also judge Yao Xishui’s true status at Wanhong Tower from how long she was gone.
If Yao Xishui returned very quickly, it would mean she only had the role of receiving orders at Wanhong Tower. If Yao Xishui was gone for a long time, it meant she wasn’t without say before the person who had just listened at the back window.
And this would determine how he would counter this chess piece called Yao Xishui afterward!
When Yao Xishui returned, Han Qian asked, “Miss Yao, do I need to drink this cup of poisoned tea?”
Seeing the expectation in Han Qian’s eyes, Yao Xishui sneered inwardly and pointed at the tea cup before Han Qian, saying, “If Young Master Han drinks this cup of tea, you’ll know whether or not you need to drink that cup of poisoned tea!”
Yao Xishui’s words were like a tongue twister, but Han Qian’s mood was incomparably heavy. He wished he could strip this little bitch naked and whip her thoroughly before raping and killing her.
Logically speaking, the cup of tea before him couldn’t possibly be poisoned tea, but when Han Qian truly had to gamble with his own life, his hands still trembled uncontrollably.
Han Qian made up his mind to gamble. Just as he reached out to take the tea cup, he saw Yao Xishui’s narrowed eyes suddenly become more severe, and his heart jolted with alarm:
That’s right—regardless of whether this cup of tea was poisoned, if he truly drank it resolutely, Wanhong Tower would most likely not allow him to live. Wanhong Tower needed chess pieces they could control, not someone with exceptional cunning and courage—at least he couldn’t show this now. This must also be the key reason why Yao Xishui had been gone so long before returning.
Han Qian held the tea cup in his hand, then after a moment set it back on the table and said to Yao Xishui, “Life or death, Miss Yao, say the word—even if I die, I want to die by Miss Yao’s hand, so I can have a few pleasant thoughts before death.”