Wei Shuye abruptly turned to look into Changle's eyes. "What did you say?"
Everyone in the courtyard stared at Changle in astonishment, unable to believe that the words about not marrying Wei Shuye and wanting to break off the engagement had come from her mouth.
Only Lin Xinyan, upon hearing this, swiftly concealed a flash of wild joy in her eyes.
Meanwhile, Hua Zhiyu, leaning against Wei Changqing's arm, kept her eyes lowered, seemingly still shaken from being pushed off the eaves. She gently clutched Wei Changqing's sleeve, seeking comfort, though the corners of her lips curled upward unnoticed.
Wei Shuye stared at Changle, gradually calming down after the initial shock.
Having grown up with Changle since childhood, he knew her temperament better than anyone.
Changle was flamboyant and competitive, never willing to admit defeat. This time, like countless times before, she must be speaking out of anger, her ultimate goal simply to wait for him to soften and coax her.
Convinced that Changle was throwing a tantrum, Wei Shuye grew increasingly impatient.
"Changle, have you thought this through?"
"Don't forget, last time you made a mistake, my mother wanted us to break off the engagement. It was only because you refused that I went to plead with her."
"If you insist on causing such a scene this time, I won’t be lenient a second time. Don’t come crying to me afterward."
Changle’s expression remained indifferent. "Yes, it was my fault for not agreeing to break off the engagement last time."
"I caught you and Lin Xinyan in the act, with your hand already inside her undergarment, yet I foolishly still didn’t want to end the engagement. Even you must think so, and now I wish I could go back in time and slap my past self."
"I still remember how heavy the rain was that day. I stood in the downpour for a day and a night, pleading with one person after another, until I finally went to the Little Imperial Uncle’s residence. He took pity on me and helped salvage our engagement."
"Looking back now, the rain that day didn’t just drench my body—it flooded my mind."
"Instead of wanting to discard something filthy, I actually thought of picking it back up to disgust myself."
"But I’ve come to my senses now, so I’ll let you two have your way."
Changle spoke calmly, and after hearing her words, Wei Shuye stared straight at her. His reaction was not particularly strong—he merely frowned slightly, but that inexplicable irritation crept back into his heart.
What Changle said didn’t matter to him; what irritated him was her demeanor at this moment.
Too calm, too composed.
This was completely unlike Changle’s usual style.
While Wei Shuye was still pondering, a crisp slap echoed through the air.
Changle had been struck again, this time by Qi Feirou.
This slap was even harder than the previous one, a clear sign that Qi Feirou was angrier now than before.
"Hua Changle, have you truly lost your mind?"
"The engagement was something you happily agreed to with His Highness the Third Prince. Now you’re making a scene about breaking it off—where does that leave the dignity of Her Highness the Imperial Consort, His Highness the Third Prince, and our Changan Marquisate?"
Qi Feirou truly couldn’t understand what was going on in the mind of this unruly daughter of hers.
The Imperial Consort enjoyed unwavering favor, and the Third Prince was her only son. The Imperial Consort had never been satisfied with Changle’s coarseness and waywardness and had never been particularly pleased with their engagement.
It was only because the Third Prince had insisted back then, and the Imperial Consort doted on her son, coupled with the fact that the Changan Marquisate’s status was not too low, that she had agreed to this marriage.
Who would have thought she would now seek to break off the engagement? Wasn't this a direct affront to Noble Consort Niangniang, openly offending her?
Wouldn't that mean their Changan Marquisate would also incur the Noble Consort's resentment from now on?
The more Qi Feirou thought about it, the more her anger flared. For a moment, she even felt it would have been better if she had never given birth to this daughter.
Fortunately, though this daughter caused her endless worry, she still had Zhiyu—a considerate and sensible good daughter.
Thinking of Hua Zhiyu, Qi Feirou's anger subsided slightly, and her tone softened. "Quickly apologize to His Highness the Third Prince."
"You must know your limits even when acting out. Don't ever speak such nonsense about breaking off the engagement again."
"You should learn from your elder sister's gentleness and sensibility. Stop fooling around and causing trouble outside all day. A noble young lady like you, yet you lack any semblance of proper decorum—you've nearly disgraced our entire Changan Marquisate."
Changle pressed her tongue against her sore cheek, looking at Qi Feirou with a faint, mocking smile. "Is the disgrace to the Changan Marquisate only happening now?"
"Didn't you already feel the Marquisate was thoroughly disgraced years ago?"
"Back then, what you likely thought was that it would have been better if I had died outside. At least then, the Changan Marquisate could have earned others' sympathy instead of their ridicule, right?"
Having her innermost, hidden thoughts exposed, a flicker of embarrassment flashed across Qi Feirou's face.
Changle couldn't be bothered with her any longer and turned back to Wei Shuye. "Breaking off the engagement—do you agree or not?"
Wei Shuye frowned, his expression completely darkening. "This matter is not something I can decide alone."
As a prince, his marriage was never solely his own affair, nor was it a trivial matter—it involved deep and complex entanglements.
Changle nodded. It seemed the engagement couldn't be broken off on the spot today.
But it didn't matter. She had a way.
Without another glance at the others' reactions, Changle strode out.
From today onward, she wanted nothing more to do with family ties or romantic love.
Let all these messy affairs stay far away from her.
"Changle." Feng Linlang, worried about Changle, had not left after exiting the Changan Marquisate. She had been waiting at the entrance and immediately approached when she saw Changle emerge.
Those who knew Changle understood: it wasn't her making a scene that was worrisome, but her not making one.
When she made a scene, it meant she still cared. When she didn't, it meant she no longer held these people in her heart.
Feng Linlang deeply wished for Changle to cast aside all those who had hurt her, yet at the same time, she ached more than anyone for the Changle who truly let them go.
After all, these were her closest family and the childhood sweetheart she had loved for so many years.
To cut all of them out of her heart at once—how much pain must Changle be enduring?
Changle wasn't surprised that Linlang was still there. Seeing her reddened eyes, Changle smiled at her, took her hand, and walked away.
Wei Shuye stared at the courtyard gate where Changle's figure had long disappeared, an inexplicable panic twisting in his heart. He instinctively stepped forward to chase after her, but Lin Xinyan immediately grasped his hand, tears welling in her reddened eyes. "A'Ye, your hand is still bleeding."
Wei Shuye frowned, his heart filled with unease and discomfort. Yet, thinking of Changle's arrogant and domineering temperament, he remained convinced that this was just another one of her tantrums.
He understood Changle. She adored him so much that she had even dared to plead with the Little Imperial Uncle—a man known as the cold-faced King of Hell, whose power overshadowed the court and whom no one dared provoke—just to preserve their engagement. How could she truly bear to break it off?
At worst, once she calmed down and stopped making a fuss, he would go and explain things to her.
Given Xinyan's status, his mother would certainly never agree to let Xinyan become his princess consort.
Thus, the Third Prince's consort could only be her.