The blazing sun scorched the cracked dirt road without mercy.
Waves of heat rolled through the air, making every breath feel like inhaling fire.
Thirty miles beyond the capital, the bustling streets had long disappeared behind them. In their place stretched a barren wasteland of rocks, dust, and endless desolation.
The women of Prince Ninth’s household, once pampered and accustomed to luxury, were now a miserable sight. Their hair was disheveled, their fine silks soaked through with sweat and clinging uncomfortably to their bodies.
“Oww… my feet are covered in blisters! I can’t walk anymore! I won’t walk another step!”
Dowager Consort Shen collapsed onto a pile of rocks by the roadside and burst into loud, undignified sobs.
“What kind of road is this? Has His Majesty lost his mind? Our Ninth Prince’s Estate has always been loyal. Why should we suffer like this?”
“Quiet! Do you want to get us all killed?”
An elderly nanny hurriedly covered her mouth and cast a fearful glance toward the approaching guards.
Among the pitiful exiles, only Sang Wanwan seemed completely out of place.
Heavy iron shackles wrapped around both her wrists and ankles.
Every step caused the chains to drag across the stones with a dull clanking sound.
Yet her back remained perfectly straight.
Her expression was calm as she observed her surroundings, as though she were taking a leisurely stroll through a private garden rather than being marched into exile.
“Wanwan… it’s hot. Zhanzhan wants something cold…”
Beside her, Zongzheng Zhan clung to her like an oversized child.
Dragging his chains along the ground, he leaned nearly half his weight onto her shoulder.
His impossibly handsome face was streaked with dirt, sweat sliding down the sharp line of his jaw. He mumbled his childish complaints under his breath.
Sang Wanwan glanced sideways at him.
He might be pretending to be a fool, but one thing was undeniable.
The man’s face was criminally attractive.
Even in this dusty wilderness, his natural nobility couldn’t be concealed.
“Walk properly. I’ll give you candy later.”
She lowered her voice.
With a subtle flick of her wrist, something slipped from her spatial storage beneath the cover of her wide sleeve.
An ice-chilled mint candy landed neatly in her palm.
Making sure no one was paying attention, she quickly popped it into Zongzheng Zhan’s mouth.
The cool burst of mint exploded across his tongue.
His eyes immediately lit up.
“Sweet!”
He grinned from ear to ear.
“Wife is the best! Zhanzhan likes Wife the most!”
Clapping happily like a child, his steps instantly became lighter.
At that moment, a series of heavy footsteps shattered the brief peace.
“Move it, all of you! Stop dragging your feet! Looking for a beating?”
The lead escort, Zhao Tieniu, strode over with a vicious-looking whip in hand.
The leather whip had been soaked in salt water, and rows of sharp barbs gleamed beneath the blazing sun.
The women of Prince Ninth’s household shrank back fearfully as he approached.
Without hesitation, he stopped directly in front of Sang Wanwan.
Narrowing his triangular eyes, he slowly swept his gaze across her breathtaking face.
Even after days of hardship and dust, her beauty remained impossible to ignore.
“So you’re Sang Wanwan, the substitute bride from the Marquis’s Estate?”
Zhao Tieniu spat on the ground and sneered.
Sang Wanwan halted and met his gaze with calm, icy eyes.
She said nothing.
“Hah. Just a country bumpkin who got dragged in to take someone else’s place. A dead woman walking.”
He twirled the whip lazily in his hand before leaning closer.
In a voice only the two of them could hear, he said darkly,
“Miss Sang, blame your bad luck. Someone paid five hundred taels to make sure you suffer on this journey.”
“I take people’s money and handle their problems.”
His eyes roamed shamelessly over her.
“Today, I’ll start by letting the brothers here enjoy a little show.”
A vicious gleam flashed across his face.
Without warning, he swung the whip.
The barbed leather tore through the air with a sharp whistle as it lashed directly toward Sang Wanwan’s beautiful face.
If the strike landed, her skin would be shredded.
Her face would be ruined forever.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
Several timid women squeezed their eyes shut.
The whip howled through the air.
With shackles weighing her down, there seemed to be no possible way for her to dodge.
Yet just as the whip came within half a foot of her face…
The foolish smile vanished from Zongzheng Zhan’s eyes.
For a brief instant, the clear and innocent gaze was replaced by something terrifying.
Cold.
Savage.
Murderous.
It was the killing intent of a sleeping beast whose reverse scale had been touched.
His muscles tightened instinctively.
His powerful frame tensed like a drawn bowstring.
In the next moment, he was prepared to throw himself forward and take the blow with his own body.
Even if he had to continue pretending to be a fool to survive, he would never allow the woman who gave him mint candy to die in front of him.
But Sang Wanwan moved faster.
“You’re courting death.”
Her cold voice cut through the air.
She didn’t even blink.
Her body tilted backward slightly.
Then, before Zongzheng Zhan’s stunned eyes, her right hand, supposedly restrained by heavy chains, shot forward at an impossibly strange angle.
Smack!
The crisp sound echoed like metal striking stone.
The vicious whip, covered in razor-sharp barbs and capable of tearing flesh apart, was caught firmly in her bare hand.
Held fast.
Completely motionless.
The barbs scraped across her palm.
Yet they failed to draw even a single drop of blood.
An invisible layer of powerful inner energy had already enveloped her hand, blocking every bit of damage.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The entire exile convoy froze.
Everyone stared as though their throats had been squeezed shut.
Dowager Consort Shen and the others nearly had their eyes pop out of their sockets.
This country girl who had been dragged in as a substitute bride…
Had just caught a barbed whip with her bare hand?
Zongzheng Zhan’s towering body stiffened.
The movement he had been about to make stopped abruptly.
His gaze locked onto her flawless hand.
Deep within his eyes, stormy waves surged.
Who exactly was this woman?
The technique she had just displayed, the timing, the precision, the effortless redirection of force…
It was the skill of a true master.
Even at the height of his own strength, he would have admired such control.
“You… how are you holding my whip?!”
Zhao Tieniu’s face changed dramatically.
A burning sense of humiliation surged through him.
He was a man who had spent his life doing hard labor, blessed with tremendous strength.
Yet a supposedly weak woman in shackles had stopped his attack cold.
Furious, he yanked hard on the handle.
Trying to rip the whip free.
Nothing happened.
The length of leather seemed welded into Sang Wanwan’s hand.
No matter how hard he pulled, no matter how red his face became, no matter how much strength he used…
The whip didn’t move an inch.
“That little strength?”
Sang Wanwan tilted her head.
Her expression remained utterly relaxed.
“Didn’t you eat breakfast this morning?”
A devilish smile slowly spread across her lips.
At the same time, hidden beneath her wide sleeve, the black wooden ring on her finger turned gently.
A packet of colorless, odorless Heart-Grasping Powder quietly slid into the gap between her fingers.
The trap was set.
And Zhao Tieniu had no idea.