Jiu Yue felt she couldn’t go on like this.
She decided to come clean tonight.
At the same time, she could gauge Sima Qing’s attitude and make future decisions accordingly.
But how much should she reveal?
The truth and reasons behind her faked death…
Her past wanderings and origins…
Jiu Yue: "…" Why was there so much to explain???
Irritated, she flicked her sleeves and walked back to her room, her steps unusually heavy.
When Lianqiao entered with the cats and dogs in her arms, she saw her Highness pacing back and forth outside the door, as if she had been doing so for ages.
She tilted her head and watched for a moment before suddenly realizing—Her Highness must be too nervous to go in!
After all, it was their wedding night!
With a knowing smile, Lianqiao turned on her heel and quietly left.
At that moment, Jiu Yue steeled herself, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
Hearing the sound, Sima Qing looked up to see her standing at the entrance, fists clenched.
Her expression was one of grim determination, as if she were entering a prison cell rather than a bridal chamber.
Sima Qing: "…"
His gaze swept over the dragon-and-phoenix candles nearby before he rose, smoothed the wrinkles from his robes, and walked toward her.
"The year-end approaches. I’ve heard Your Highness has been assisting His Majesty with court affairs in your spare time." He smiled faintly. "Tonight, you didn’t leave me alone in an empty room—truly, Your Highness is most gracious. I’m delighted."
Jiu Yue was still organizing her thoughts when she suddenly registered Sima Qing’s words. She looked up in confusion, only to find him already standing right in front of her, his hand outstretched.
Nervous, her body reacted before her mind could catch up—she smacked his hand away with a sharp "smack!"
Sima Qing: "…"
He glanced at his reddened hand and chuckled politely. "So the Eastern Palace has such strict rules? Even closing a door requires a beating first."
Jiu Yue: "…"
She forced an awkward laugh and withdrew her hand.
Sima Qing, however, had already turned away. "Then I’ll leave the door for Your Highness to close."
Jiu Yue shot him a sidelong glance before shutting the door firmly. She turned around and strode toward him with resolve.
Enough hesitation!
Pressing her lips together, she fixed him with a blazing stare.
"I…" But she barely got a word out.
Sima Qing, looking pleased, pressed a ceremonial wedding cup into her hand.
"The hour grows late, Your Highness," he said, his tone suggestive.
"We’ll drink later." Jiu Yue had no patience for formalities. She tried to set the cup aside. "There’s something I need to tell you—"
But Sima Qing seemed to have anticipated this. He caught her hand, keeping the cup steady.
"Can’t it wait until after the toast?" He took another step closer, closing the distance between them.
The flickering candlelight illuminated the depth in his eyes.
"Wife," he said, his smile teasing, "a wine cup is easier to hold than a blade."
Jiu Yue froze—Blade?!
Her eyes widened as she stared at him, his knowing expression and relaxed demeanor making everything clear.
"You—!" Realization struck, and she glared at him. "You deceived me?!"
Sima Qing raised a brow. "Didn’t you deceive me first?"
"Mine was forced! Yours was deliberate!" Flushed with anger at being toyed with, she snapped, "You knew all along I was Yan Zhaoning!"
Sima Qing set the cup down and leisurely reached to remove the mask covering the upper half of her face.
When their eyes met, the amusement in his gaze softened, flickering like the candlelight.
"Who you are doesn’t matter," he murmured.
His thumb absently traced the back of her hand as he smiled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just glad you’re alive."
The unfamiliar touch sent a faint electric current through her, a fleeting tingling sensation spreading under her skin. Her heartbeat stuttered inexplicably.
She didn’t know how to describe what she was feeling.
Only now did she truly grasp the meaning behind that 28% pale pink progress bar… He really…
"You…" Complicated emotions swirled inside her, but she quickly steadied herself and asked flatly, "Are you done groping my hand?"
She was still holding the wine cup, yet this man kept stroking the same spot on her hand like some kind of lunatic.
Even now, when she called him out, he pretended not to hear.
Jiu Yue: "…"
She stomped on his foot.
Sima Qing stiffened, finally meeting her eyes before withdrawing his hand.
Unmoved by his wounded look, Jiu Yue suppressed the strange flutter in her chest and scoffed.
"Of course being alive is good. No one wants to die." With that, she turned and walked behind the screen.
Sima Qing said nothing. When she returned, his gaze immediately fell on the object in her hand.
"Since we’re being honest, let’s lay everything out." Jiu Yue pushed it toward him.
It was the thumb-sized jade pendant.
"Right now, we’re bound by the marriage alliance between our two nations—a twist of fate neither of us expected. If you’re unwilling, you’re free to leave." She crossed her arms and shot him a mocking glance.
"After all, Your Highness’s reach extends even into the Great Yan palace. Coming and going must be effortless for you."
"But let me make one thing clear." Her voice turned icy. "If you dare threaten Great Yan, go ahead and try. I’d love to see which of us is more capable."
Her words were deliberately cutting.
Sima Qing stared at her cold expression, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. He averted his gaze, his own emotions cooling.
"Your Highness is truly something. Here I am, seated before you, and now you tell me to leave if I’m unwilling." He picked up the jade pendant, his smile light but detached. "Isn’t that a bit late?"
"How is it late?" Jiu Yue rapped her knuckles on the table. "We haven’t drunk the wedding wine, nor have we consummated the marriage. You can walk out anytime."
Sima Qing turned to her, his smile fading bit by bit.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice low. "The rites are complete. Are you saying you still refuse to take responsibility?"
Jiu Yue frowned. "What responsibility? I haven’t done anything to you!"
The look Sima Qing gave her was one usually reserved for heartless scoundrels.
"Not long ago, someone swore to me they’d take responsibility. And now, after mere days, Your Highness claims forgetfulness. Truly, you’ve broadened my horizons."
Jiu Yue: "…"
His sarcasm ignited her temper. "How dare you criticize me? You’ve been deceiving me all this time, and I haven’t even settled that score yet!"
"If we’re tallying deceptions, I should be the one demanding answers." He lowered his eyes and chuckled. "Was the coffin comfortable?"
"You have the nerve to ask?" Jiu Yue laughed coldly, slamming her hands on the table before leaping onto it. Pointing at him, she bit out each word: "Who put me in that coffin if not Qi Mingchuan?"
"I used to serve under Prince Ping, but I offered you my sincerity in cooperation. Why didn’t Qi Mingchuan trust me?"
Jiu Yue unconsciously leaned forward, her eyes brimming with mockery. "You talk about cooperation, yet Qi Mingchuan just used me as a tool. The moment Prince Ping died, his shadow guards surrounded me—what masters of kicking the ladder away!"
Yes, Jiu Yue could certainly understand an emperor’s methods—but what did that have to do with her?
Understand his paranoia, then ignore her suffering?
What a joke!
That stab wound hurt so badly she couldn’t even use her qinggong for ages!
Just wait and see—she’d return the favor one day, then tell Qi Mingchuan to also "understand Jiu Yue’s paranoia!"
Hmph!
Having vented her grievances, Jiu Yue’s emotions flared hotter. She plopped down onto her seat, snatched the wine cup from the table, and downed it in one go. When she looked up at Sima Qing again, she planted her foot against his chest, her aura sharp and domineering.
"Speak!" she demanded irritably.
Watching Jiu Yue glare at him with smoldering anger, Sima Qing pressed his fingers to his temples before taking a slow sip of wine.
He exhaled deeply, weariness creeping into his expression.
"This… was my oversight. By the time I realized something was wrong, you were already surrounded…" He lifted the wine jug to refill both their cups, then took another absentminded sip, his gaze darkening.
This matter had haunted him ever since.
"I’m sorry," he murmured, voice heavy with regret.
