As time went on, he no longer knew whom he truly loved.
Thus, when Hua Heng drew near, he deliberately stepped aside this time, putting distance between them. Unexpectedly, a sharp, piercing pain flared in his chest.
A strange flicker passed through Feng Buji’s eyes. Long ago, while stationed at the remote borderlands, he had heard the common folk speak of Gu sorcery in Miao territory.
Hua Heng had never mentioned her true origin to him, and Feng Buji began to harbor doubts.
Meanwhile, looking at the nanmu coffin carved with begonia patterns before her, Hua Heng could barely suppress the hatred in her heart.
Baoyu had died inexplicably in a dark alley, her death gruesome and cruel. According to the System, the “female lead,” Xiao Mingyue, was not dead at all; this incident was very likely her doing.
It was highly probable that Xiao Mingyue was killing the chicken to warn the monkey, forcing Hua Heng to stay on high alert.
When Hua Heng brought up the wedding date, Feng Buji was clearly absentminded. This made her even more anxious—if they didn’t get married, how could she complete her mission?
“Your Highness, what are you thinking about?” Hua Heng’s expression was gentle, resembling a sweet, understanding companion.
At the thought that he might have been afflicted with Gu sorcery, rage flared within Feng Buji.
He stared at Hua Heng and suddenly reached out, grabbing her by the neck. “Did you plant Gu sorcery in me?”
With her lifeline cut off, Hua Heng’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. She struggled to choke out, “Your Highness… I—I didn’t.”
Immediately, she turned to the System for help, cursing Feng Buji internally: What is going on, System? Has Feng Buji lost his mind?
【I don’t know either. The male lead of a angst novel is inherently a powerful lunatic. I warned you long ago about these sudden outbursts.】
Think of something fast! Otherwise, I’m going to lose my life right here today!
At the thought of being choked to death by Feng Buji before even being erased by the System, terror gripped her, forcing tears from the corners of her eyes.
Fortunately, at the critical moment, the System amplified the effect of whatever was placed on Feng Buji, inflicting a sudden, intense pang of heartbreak and pity that forced him to release his grip.
“My apologies. I was out of line. Are you alright?” Although Feng Buji spoke words of apology, his expression remained icy.
If he had merely been probing just now, he was now completely certain that something was indeed wrong with his body.
Having narrowly escaped death, Hua Heng surprisingly chose to push forward, throwing herself into Feng Buji’s arms and weeping softly:
“Your Highness! You scared me to death! What on earth is wrong with you? Shall we send for the imperial physicians to examine you?”
If you’re sick, see a physician! What’s the point of choking me!
“No need. I am fine.”
“By the way, let us postpone our wedding for a while.” After saying this, Feng Buji strode away.
Hua Heng glared bitterly at his retreating back, calculating in her mind that if it weren’t for the rewards, who would ever want to target the male lead in an angst novel? Every single one of them was out of their mind.
Feng Buji returned to the Begonia Hall to rest. The hall was deep and quiet, with flickering candlelight casting long shadows.
South Sea aloeswood smoke wafted gently from the lion-shaped bronze burner, weaving a warm, hazy canopy. The western carpets imported from the Western Regions absorbed every footprint, leaving only the rhythmic dripping of the water clock softly counting the hours.
The sleeping couch was set atop a three-tiered jade dais, enclosed by heavy, gold-embroidered black drapes that dragged along the floor, isolating the space from the noise of the mundane world. Spread over the couch was a soft duvet of Yun brocade presented by Jiangning Weaving; its subtle dragon-and-python patterns glinted shiftingly under the dim light.
This place was the palace hall he had once prepared for Xiao Mingyue—luxurious and exquisite. Some of the items inside were not even found within the imperial palace, which served as proof of how lavishly he had doted on Xiao Mingyue in the past.
Yet, strangely enough, he found himself struggling to recall details of his past with Xiao Mingyue.
The night-duty maid stood bowed beside a pillar like a clay statue. The entire room was filled with a solemn silence, broken only by the prince’s steady breathing mingling with the rustling of wind against the bamboo leaves outside.
As Feng Buji lost himself in thought, he unexpectedly drifted off to sleep, entirely unaware that danger was drawing near.
Xiao Mingyue arrived silently. Seeing the sleeping Feng Buji, she swung her sword toward him without a second thought.
They were no longer past lovers, but enemies. Even Xiao Mingyue herself could hardly believe that a day would come when she felt not a single trace of affection for Feng Buji, raising a blade to assassinate him instead.
A blinding glint of cold light reflected off the candleflame. As the blade drew close to Feng Buji, Wei Lin parried it back with his own sword.
The sound of clashing steel startled Feng Buji awake. Seeing that the assassination had failed, Xiao Mingyue turned and fled.
Hidden guards emerged from nowhere like phantom shadows, giving chase, but Feng Buji stopped them and pursued her himself.
Feng Buji felt as though he were going mad. He thought he had seen Xiao Mingyue. Although she wore a bamboo hat, her posture and movements were strikingly similar to hers.
Wasn’t she dead? Had she been deceiving him all along?
Well done, Xiao Mingyue. You have fooled me terribly. Once I catch you, I will make sure you regret ever leaving me.