Meeting the Prince of Wu’s vicious gaze, Fu Ying could not help but break into a cold sweat.
The Prince of Wu’s face was dark with fury, as though he wanted nothing more than to tear her to a thousand pieces.
After being kicked in his lower body back at Chenghuan Hall, he had lain on the ground for a long while before managing to force himself upright.
With every step, a tearing pain shot through his groin, and a dull ache lingered persistently through his waist and abdomen as well.
He was also severely fastidious about cleanliness, and having his fine court robes stained with the filthy dust of the ground left him thoroughly disgusted, as though pricked all over by thorns.
Princely carriages could not enter the palace grounds, so he had made this whole journey on foot, in unbearable torment the entire way.
Having been the center of attention since childhood, pampered and self-important as a prince, when had he ever endured such suffering?
The Prince of Wu glared and commanded: “Seize this shameless wretch for me!”
Fu Ying’s brow furrowed slightly, watching several blade-bearing guards charge forward with murderous intent, and though she showed no fear on her face, she quietly swallowed hard.
“Who dares!”
These two forceful words instantly silenced the chaotic scene.
Wen Zhuo’s expression turned cold, his sharp eyes sweeping over the guards before him.
With the Prince of Wei giving the order, the guards exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to take another step forward, forced to stand frozen in place, waiting for the Prince of Wu’s command.
Seeing that it was Wen Zhuo who had stepped in to defend the woman, the Prince of Wu’s brow furrowed even tighter.
“Fifth brother, you’ve never been one to meddle in others’ business.”
Wen Zhuo only let out a soft snort through his nose. “Brother, she belongs to me.”
The Prince of Wu was utterly stunned: “What did you say?”
Ignoring him entirely, Wen Zhuo said, word by word: “I am not meddling in anyone’s business. You have no right to take her away.”
Everyone present was thoroughly shocked.
The Prince of Wei, cold-blooded and merciless, indifferent to women, had just openly declared, in front of everyone, that this naturally beautiful Northern Di princess belonged to him.
The Prince of Wu, not expecting to have run into such a wall, found his expression growing even uglier. “She’s clearly mine to——”
Wen Zhuo, showing him no courtesy, cut him off directly: “I already know roughly what happened. She had no wish to give herself to you. Otherwise, brother, why would you look like this?”
Hearing the biting sarcasm in Wen Zhuo’s words, fury surged up in the Prince of Wu.
“Fifth brother, I would not like a lowly hostage woman to come between our brotherly bond.”
Hearing this thinly veiled threat, a frost seemed to gather in Wen Zhuo’s dark, deep-set eyes, a flash of unusually sinister light passing through them.
What he despised most in this life were vile men who abused their power to seize whatever they wanted, and he held even less regard for this half-brother of his, born of a different mother.
The Prince of Wu, well into his prime years, had accomplished nothing at all, spending his days drinking, feasting, and chasing women.
There was, however, a more fundamental reason for the discord between him and the Prince of Wu.
Ever since the Empress’s death, Consort Shu had held sweeping power over the inner palace, her authority absolute.
The emperor, growing old, his health failing, had left more and more matters of state to be handled by his ministers.
Many civil and military officials were relatives and favorites of the Shu clan. Were it not for the Crown Prince Wen Huan joining forces with Wen Zhuo, contending for influence and working hard to balance power at court, the Prince of Wu’s Noble Consort mother would long since have allied with her faction of officials to stir up trouble and seize dominance over the entire court.
Here they were discussing the matter of Fu Ying, and the Prince of Wu was invoking their intangible brotherly bond as a shield to overpower him.
Wen Zhuo let out a cold laugh, and asked, his expression unchanged: “So then, brother still insists on taking her away?”
Compared to the Prince of Wu’s blustering, outwardly fierce but inwardly weak posturing, Wen Zhuo remained composed and at ease, as unbothered as a drifting cloud or a wild crane.
“This shameless wretch dared to injure me, brazen beyond belief, showing contempt for imperial authority. I must teach her a lesson.”
Hearing the Prince of Wu repeatedly using such vile epithets for Fu Ying, Wen Zhuo could not help but frown as well.
He fixed his gaze directly on the other man, deliberately lowering his voice: “It was brother who violated a woman’s will first, her torn collar stands as proof of it. Under Great Yong law, how should your conduct be judged?”
“……”
The Prince of Wu was momentarily at a loss for words.
However obliquely Wen Zhuo had put it, he understood clearly enough that this was pointing squarely at the crime of his assault.
His affair with Shang Yao had been consensual, both parties willing. But with Fu Ying——
He had summoned her, and when she had said she was unwilling to submit, he had ignored her and forced himself on her anyway.
Had it been some ordinary woman, it would have been easy enough, a few bribes to the right officials, and the matter would never have reached him at all.
But she happened to now stand under Wen Zhuo’s protection!
The Prince of Wu burned with fury, but at the same time felt some hesitation about openly defying him.
Seeing that the Prince of Wu’s resolve had wavered, Wen Zhuo shot him one last, meaningfully pointed look.
“She will enter the Prince of Wei’s residence in the coming days. Brother had best abandon this unrealistic notion, and go back to your residence to recover.”
He turned and walked away, leaning on his cane, entirely unconcerned with the Prince of Wu behind him, his face livid, teeth grinding.
The guards around them broke into cold sweats, none daring to step forward either.
Yun Chuan crouched down with his back to Fu Ying, saying gently: “Miss, climb on up.”
Still somewhat shaken, Fu Ying reached out a trembling hand: “Thank you, sir.”
Yun Chuan smiled, took hold of Fu Ying’s wrist, guided her arms around his neck, and lifted her onto his back with ease.
He did not cup her thighs directly with his palms, but instead supported her with his wrists, minimizing contact with her legs, a gesture of considerable propriety and refinement.
“Don’t be afraid, miss. Since you belong to His Highness now, he will protect you completely.”
Hearing Yun Chuan’s warmly reassuring words, Fu Ying froze for a moment, then nodded firmly.
Back in the main room of the residence outside Yunzhou, Wen Zhuo had once obliquely said something similar, that after sleeping in each other’s arms all night, she had become his.
Back then, she had blushed, her heart racing, overcome with shyness, hardly able to compose herself.
Now, she could only feel secret relief at having survived another moment, that old bashfulness she had once felt toward the man she loved had long since vanished entirely.
Fu Ying lay against Yun Chuan’s broad back, replaying in her mind the confrontation between the two men just now.
The Prince of Wu, though deeply indulged and doted on by the emperor, had not dared act rashly in front of the Prince of Wei.
Seen this way, Wen Zhuo was, at the very least, someone worth relying on for the time being.
By the time they returned to Chonghua Hall, dusk had already fallen.
Brilliant sunset light dyed the clouds entirely orange, layer upon layer, unfolding across the sky like a magnificent painted scroll.
Inside the hall, the women were gathered together, chatting and laughing merrily.
That Fu Ying had not yet returned so late seemed, to them, a matter of no importance whatsoever.
Footsteps rustled outside the hall, and a tall, striking man in magnificent court robes, leaning on a black wooden cane, slowly stepped inside.
Behind him followed a valiant guard, carrying Fu Ying on his back.
The women all stopped their conversation, their attention immediately drawn.
“Which prince is this? I’ve never seen him before.”
“This is truly the first time I’ve laid eyes on him, to think such a magnificent, handsome man exists in this world.”
“Ah, if he had ever shown his face before, I would have dared try what A Yao did too, now A Ying’s gotten there first.”
Shang Mei scoffed at their excitement: “Who else could it be, leaning on a cane like that, it has to be the Prince of Wei, the one who beat us all into the ground.”
The women’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Everyone knew the Prince of Wei was ruthless and merciless, his temperament extreme and unpredictable, with countless lives on his hands. There were even rumors that simply getting close to him would bring bad luck, staining one with misfortune for life, courting disaster after disaster.
Yet the immortal-looking, handsome man before them now was this same infamous prince, known for killing without so much as a blink.
If one looked only at his face, the rumors did not seem quite so terrifying after all.
One woman noticed something off: “Wasn’t A Ying going to see the Prince of Wu? Why is she coming back with the Prince of Wei instead?”
“And here she’s always seemed so composed and reserved, you really can’t judge a book by its cover!”
“So she was never truly on our side after all……”
The women whispered among themselves, casting looks at Fu Ying full of envy and ill intent.
Watching this scene, Wen Zhuo’s eyes curved slightly at the corners, the shape of it like the trail of a shooting star across the night sky, enough to send countless young women of Chang’an into a swoon.
The women’s scattered murmurs drifted into his ears, and in the depths of his dark eyes there gathered a deep well of disdain and contempt.
Sensing that Wen Zhuo’s patience had all but run out, Yun Chuan called out loudly: “Where is the head matron?”
At once, the head matron, who spent her days perpetually scowling, came scurrying out of the room, shooting the women a fierce, warning glare.
Understanding at once, they, along with the head matron, bowed respectfully to Wen Zhuo, saying together: “Greetings, Your Highness.”
Wen Zhuo paid no attention whatsoever to the group of lovely women, his sharp gaze turning instead to the head matron.
“Is there still an empty room in the hall?”
“Reporting to Your Highness, there is. Shall this servant arrange it for Miss Fu Ying?”
The head matron, her face wreathed in smiles, answered readily and repeatedly, this master’s status was far too exalted for her to dare offer anything less than her fullest attention.
Wen Zhuo ordered: “Find one that is spacious and quiet.”
“This servant obeys.”
The head matron sent a palace maid to inspect the hall’s rooms, then led Wen Zhuo to the western side hall.
“Your Highness, the western side hall is set apart from the other wings, allowing Miss Fu Ying to live here undisturbed.”
The side hall had been unoccupied for a long while, spacious and empty, simply furnished, containing only essential furniture and a screen, quiet and refined in its plainness.
Wen Zhuo surveyed the room and nodded, his expression unreadable.
“For the days ahead, do not let any of the other women come here to disturb her. Her leg injury makes things inconvenient for her, assign a palace maid to attend to her. This prince will naturally see to your reward.”
The head matron, not daring to be the least bit careless, said with the utmost deference: “This servant obeys Your Highness’s command, and will arrange someone at once to attend to the young lady with the utmost care.”
Hearing this, Wen Zhuo waved his hand, and the head matron, understanding the gesture, bowed and withdrew from the western side hall.
“Your Highness.”
Fu Ying called out to him, offering her thanks tentatively: “Thank you, Your Highness, for coming to my rescue, and for thinking of everything so thoroughly. This concubine is deeply grateful.”
“You will soon become this prince’s wife. From this moment on, you should not lower your own standing by associating with them any further.”
By saying this, Wen Zhuo was, in effect, asking her to draw a clear line between herself and Shang Yao and the others.
“Before you enter my household, keep your position firmly in mind, and do not bring upon yourself any unnecessary trouble.”
The nine Shang sisters and cousins from the Northern Di traveling with her had never shown her the slightest goodwill.
Yet the Prince of Wei, rumored to be brutal and cold-blooded, had stepped in to protect her completely.
For this reason, she held no complaint at all about what Wen Zhuo had asked of her.
She was to become the Prince of Wei’s wife now, and it was only right that she distance herself from everything connected to being a Northern Di princess……
Fu Ying lowered her eyes despondently, bowing as she answered: “This concubine understands.”
Knowing that she understood the weight and stakes of the matter, Wen Zhuo said nothing further and turned to leave.
Yun Chuan, too, bowed to Fu Ying in farewell.
As Wen Zhuo stepped out of the western side hall, a lovely, graceful figure moved directly to block his path.
“Your Highness.”
The woman’s soft, delicate voice was drawn out and melodious, enough to make one’s bones go weak.
Having bowed, Shang Yao gazed at Wen Zhuo directly, her eyes full of admiration, sending him a subtle, flirtatious glance.
Yesterday, that shameless cad the Prince of Wu had abandoned her without a second thought, his attention turning instead toward Fu Ying.
That particular move had failed her entirely.
The man before her now could hardly be called an improvement, his leg was impaired, and he radiated the aura of some fierce beast, resolute and menacing, truly intimidating to behold.
But that face of his was, without question, breathtakingly striking, immortal in bearing, refined and untouched by the mundane world.
Shang Yao found herself utterly unable to resist a man of such magnetic charm, her mind filling with improper thoughts.
Driven by a spiteful urge to get back at Fu Ying, one she could barely restrain herself, she wanted to snatch away the very protector Fu Ying had just secured.
Wen Zhuo stared at her fixedly, his face as though sealed in ice, holding everyone at a thousand li’s distance.
“Move aside.”
Shang Yao paid these two cold words no mind at all, her ambiguous, tender gaze winding around him like countless threads.
“Your Highness must be tired. This concubine has prepared tea in her room, would you care to come rest a while?”