His eyes were frighteningly bloodshot as he gripped his reins so hard that the veins on the back of his pale hands bulged menacingly.
Reason told him that Nanzhi was not the sort of vain girl to chase after wealth and status, yet the scene before his eyes stung like acid in his wounds.
With Nanzhi’s hand trapped and lazily toyed with in Shen Huaixu’s palm, she dared not let her guard down for even a fraction of a second, forcing herself to speak with a completely deadpan expression: “Young Master Wen, as I’m sure you can see for yourself, I belong to His Highness now.”
Her voice faltered for a brief second. Watching his swaying, precarious posture atop the saddle, a flash of unbearable pity stirred deep within her bright, tear-brightened eyes. Yet, with the Crown Prince sitting right beside her, she had no choice but to force out the rest of the cruel words.
“Young Master Wen, I have failed you. Please, go back.”
Nanzhi’s clear, melodious voice drifted distinctly into Wen Tingyue’s ears word by word, striking him like a bolt of thunder out of a clear blue sky. All the remaining color drained entirely from his lips, and his figure atop the horse violently swayed.
A jolt of alarm shot through Nanzhi’s heart, and her lips parted to silently mouth a warning: Careful!
As if catching her subtle gesture, a measure of sanity rushed back into Wen Tingyue’s mind, steadying him considerably—yet, when all was said and done, how could he ever bear to let her go?
With a greedy, desperate hunger, he stared fixedly at her ethereal, breathtaking face, not daring to blink even once for fear of missing the tiniest flicker of emotion on her features. After a long, agonizing silence, he finally choked out a broken, defeated whisper: “I understand.”
Nanzhi knitted her brows together, blinking rapidly at him to signal that he needed to leave immediately. She was terrified that if he lingered a moment longer, the Crown Prince would change his mind.
The grip tightening around her palm grew heavier, letting her know without words that the Crown Prince’s patience was rapidly wearing thin.
“Go back, and I wish you a future bright with success.” The final look Nanzhi gave him was laced with a helpless, suffocating sorrow.
Without waiting for a reply, she ruthlessly tore her gaze away, refusing to look at him ever again.
Immediately following, a sharp clack echoed through the air as the carriage door slammed shut, instantly severing the line of sight between the two.
Right on cue, Shen Huaixu’s indifferent voice rang out from within the carriage: “Move out.”
The grand entourage rolled forward once more in a majestic procession. As they swept past Wen Tingyue, a thick cloud of dust kicked up into the air, blanketing his face and obscuring his vision. Yet, remaining utterly indifferent to the grit, he stood frozen like a statue, staring blankly at the vanishing carriage for a long, unblinking time.
Stunned by this devastating blow, Wen Tingyue felt entirely powerless. Replaying that final look of helpless agony Nanzhi had given him tore his heart into bloody shreds; he despised his own utter weakness, agonizing over his inability to save her.
Zhi’er was forced into this against her will.
Watching Nanzhi’s carriage vanish entirely from sight, Wen Tingyue stood rooted for a long while before finally turning his horse around. With a face as pale as a ghost, he rode back to the Wen residence in a walking trance.
The moment Madam Wen caught sight of his desolate state, hot tears spilled over her cheeks in sheer heartache: “Yue’er, Mother will find another fine young lady for you. Stop dwelling on her; she is not someone meant for you.”
What a cruel trick of fate.
Madam Wen had originally held a profound fondness for Nanzhi, but with such a scandalous turn of events, all she could do was sigh in bitter regret.
The Nan estate had already dispatched servants to return the betrothal gifts in their entirety, bringing an abrupt and absolute end to the alliance.
Lost in her thoughts, Madam Wen watched as Wen Tingyue slowly regained a semblance of focus, shaking his head at her: “Mother, your son has no desire to take a wife. Please, put this matter to rest.”
Without another word, he retreated straight into his private courtyard, refusing to touch a single drop of water or step foot outside for the entire remainder of the day.
Madam Wen was nearly driven to distraction by worry.
Meanwhile, inside the moving carriage, Nanzhi sat in heavy, suffocating silence after her parting with Wen Tingyue. Refusing to so much as glance at the Crown Prince, she stared blankly ahead at the intricate woodcarvings of the ceiling.
Noticing her silence, Shen Huaixu casually pinched her slender, soft waist, posing the question with an air of idle curiosity: “What’s wrong with Zhizhi? Is your heart aching for him?”
Nanzhi didn’t see the deep, cold chill in the Crown Prince’s gaze, nor the dark shadow crossing his eyes as he consciously reined in the strength of his grip.
He detested the thought of anyone else lingering in her mind, of her wasting her sorrow on someone irrelevant. For now, he would let it go. But should she ever yearn for that fiancé of hers again, he could hardly guarantee he wouldn’t be driven to kill him.
“Your Highness is overthinking. Your concubine is simply tired,” Nanzhi murmured, her body and soul utterly exhausted, her expression steeped in a weariness that left her with no desire to speak further.
With her back turned to Shen Huaixu, her pristine phoenix eyes were clouded with fatigue. A mask of cold indifference settled over her flawless, jade-smooth face as she slowly lowered her eyelids, concealing the nameless, indefinable sorrow buried deep within.
She refused to be trapped by his side for the rest of her life. She refused to remain his canary, imprisoned forever within the even larger, more magnificent gilded cage of the Eastern Palace.
She had to find a way to escape. She would not give up.
The moment a resolute goal took root in her heart, her dull eyes flashed with a startling brilliance, instantly lending an extraordinary radiance to her already striking face.
Just as Nanzhi drifted off into her own thoughts, Shen Huaixu’s mellow voice drifted to her ears. “Since Zhizhi is tired, come and rest your head on Gu’s lap.”
Without waiting for her reply, he forcefully pulled her down until she was lying across his lap. His fair, slender fingers gently stroked her flawless, jade-white cheek. The profound, icy detachment vanished from his face, replaced by a faint, elegant smile that graced his refined features.
“Thank you for your consideration, Your Highness,” Nanzhi replied, offering him a meek, obedient smile before closing her eyes.
The Crown Prince’s lap was hard and unyielding. Resting the side of her face against it proved rather uncomfortable, prompting an instinctive urge to sit up. But Shen Huaixu’s arm remained tightly wrapped around her waist, leaving her with no choice but to abandon the thought.
If only I had a throw pillow to cushion this, she mused privately.
Yet, she was soon left with no capacity to dwell on such things. Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of drowsiness, she drifted back into a deep sleep.
Listening to the soft, even rhythm of her breathing, a faint smile touched Shen Huaixu’s lips.
It would be best if her heart and eyes held room for no one but him.
Perhaps out of fear that she might slip, he kept one arm securely around her shoulder while using his free hand to flip the pages of the book he held.
The person he had set his sights on naturally deserved to be carefully cherished.
Fortunately, this little canary of his was both obedient and tactful. Shen Huaixu was well pleased; he had no fondness for noisy, troublesome women, and Nanzhi’s temperament happened to suit him entirely. He didn’t mind spoiling her a little.
Yet this canary wasn’t nearly as docile as she appeared on the surface. How interesting, Shen Huaixu thought, lowering his gaze to look down at the sleeping Nanzhi in his arms. He laid his book aside, his thumb slowly and tenderly brushing across her smooth, fair cheek. The corners of his lips curved upward as a dark, absolute, and tyrannical possessiveness flared instantly in his eyes.
I truly want to hide her away, where she can be seen by me alone.
Perhaps because she had spent the entire day frightened and on edge, Nanzhi slept exceptionally soundly this time. The Crown Prince woke her once midway, and after she forced down a few perfunctory bites of dry rations, she promptly fell asleep again.
When she finally stirred once more, the daylight had already drained away, swallowed by the falling night.
Her stomach let out a soft, rumbling protest. She had eaten almost nothing all day; morning sickness had left her with little appetite, allowing for only a few bites, and lunch had been a rushed, haphazard affair inside the carriage.
The moment she woke, the rich, savory aroma of roasted chicken drifted into the carriage, so potent that Nanzhi couldn’t help but swallow hard.
Pushing the carriage window open, she looked out at the darkening landscape. The surrounding area was a desolate wilderness, devoid of human habitation. Every now and then, the lonely cry of an unidentifiable bird echoed through the empty valley, sending a shiver of anxiety through her heart. The gloomy, oppressive twilight filled her with a rising sense of unease.
“Awake?” Shen Huaixu had been resting with his eyes closed. Hearing her movements as she sat up, he opened his pristine, indifferent eyes just in time to catch Nanzhi’s small, startled flinch as the darkness frightened her.
This little canary of hers was surprisingly faint-hearted. A mere drop of nightfall had actually managed to scare her, stirring an even deeper wave of protective affection within him.
Understandable, of course. With nothing for miles around, it was only natural that Zhizhi would be afraid.
Staring out at the wild, barren hills beyond the carriage, Nanzhi asked in a soft, apprehensive whisper, “Your Highness, where are we?”