Changle was filled with curiosity as she followed Xu Jin into the alley beside Ya Garden.
Inside the alley stood a spacious carriage, yet it bore no insignia, making it impossible to discern the identity of its occupant.
"His Highness is inside the carriage, Miss. Please proceed," Xu Jin said with a bow before retreating to the mouth of the alley to stand guard.
Changle approached slowly, her fingers intertwined before her, giving a slight squeeze.
To be honest, she was quite afraid of this Xuan Wang. Or rather, there was no one in Shengdu who did not fear this powerful and ruthless figure, known as the Cold-Faced King of Hell.
There were many legends about Xuan Wang among the people.
He was the youngest son of the late emperor, displaying extraordinary intelligence from the age of two. He began his education at three, composed poetry by five, and earned praise from literary masters.
Not only was he exceptionally talented in literature, but his martial skills were also outstanding.
At thirteen, he volunteered to go to the borderlands. The following year, he led elite troops to capture the head of an enemy general. Unfazed by the harsh conditions of the frontier, he remained there for ten years, only returning to Shengdu when the late emperor fell critically ill.
It was rumored that the late emperor intended for him to inherit the throne, even drafting an imperial decree to that effect. However, he had no interest in the throne, which led to the ascension of the current emperor.
The current emperor and Xuan Wang shared a deep brotherly bond. In their youth, the current emperor cared for Xuan Wang as he grew up, truly embodying the role of an elder brother like a father.
Now that the emperor's health was failing, he had entrusted Xuan Wang with the governance of the court without a hint of suspicion, showing great trust and affection.
Some even speculated that the emperor's delay in appointing a crown prince was because he intended to return the throne to Xuan Wang.
Changle approached the carriage but did not board it recklessly. Instead, she curtsied and called out, "Little Imperial Uncle."
Having grown up with Wei Shuye, she had often run around the imperial palace since childhood and naturally followed Wei Shuye in addressing Xuan Wang as Little Imperial Uncle.
The carriage curtain was lifted slightly, revealing a hand as slender and elegant as jade bamboo. "Happy birthday."
His voice was as clear and resonant as a bell, tinged with a hint of coolness.
Changle was momentarily stunned. She never expected Xuan Wang to remember her birthday, let alone prepare a gift for her.
After a moment of silence, as Changle had yet to accept the gift, Wei Cheng Xuan spoke again, "Do you not like it?"
Only then did Changle snap out of her daze. She quickly stepped forward to take the box held in Xuan Wang's hand. Her throat felt slightly dry, and she swallowed before clearing her voice to say, "No, thank you, Little Imperial Uncle."
"Open it and see."
Since Wei Cheng Xuan had spoken, Changle naturally complied.
Changle opened the long brocade box and saw a dagger inside.
The dagger was sheathed, and the scabbard was adorned with a teardrop-shaped ruby the size of a thumb. It was clear that great care had been taken in its preparation.
"Draw it and take a look."
Changle had been about to close the lid and express her thanks when she paused at his words, feeling a bit puzzled. Did Xuan Wang enjoy watching people open gifts in front of him and praise them?
Thinking this, Changle still retrieved the dagger, temporarily placing the brocade box on the ground. She then grasped the scabbard and drew the dagger.
As the dagger left its sheath, it emitted a sharp, whistling sound, reminiscent of a sword being unsheathed.
Changle practiced martial arts and naturally knew how to distinguish the quality of weapons.
This dagger was forged from pure, refined Dark Iron, capable of cutting through iron as if it were mud.
It must be understood that according to the laws of Great Jin, pure refined Dark Iron has always been exclusively used in the military, with the majority allocated to the Dark Iron Battalion under Xuan Wang's command. For any private individual to purchase or refine pure refined Dark Iron in secret, once discovered, would be a grave crime punishable by the confiscation of property and the extermination of the entire family.
Xuan Wang had actually gifted her a dagger made of pure refined Dark Iron!
Changle was utterly astonished. Holding the dagger, she turned it over to examine it, her gaze suddenly fixing on the hilt.
Slowly, Changle loosened her grip on the dagger's hilt and finally saw clearly the two characters engraved there.
Changle!
This was actually a dagger specially crafted for her!
But why?
Was it simply because she had coincidentally saved his life once?
Deeply moved, Changle took a long moment before she found her voice again. "Thank you, Little Imperial Uncle. I truly like this dagger."
Wei Cheng Xuan did not respond. Instead, he lowered the carriage window curtain and withdrew his hand. "Xu Jin, escort Miss Hua back."
Upon hearing this, Xu Jin stepped forward. Knowing that Xuan Wang was about to leave, Changle hurriedly said, "Little Imperial Uncle, I have a matter to ask for your help with. I… may I come into the carriage to speak with you?"
"You are an unmarried young lady. Being alone in a carriage with a man would damage your reputation."
Hearing this, Changle grew anxious, thinking that Xuan Wang was indirectly refusing her request.
In truth, she was not unaware that someone like Xuan Wang was unlikely to concern himself with such trivial matters of hers.
But if she wanted to break off the engagement and Wei Shuye was unwilling to do so, she had no choice but to seek Xuan Wang's assistance.
For the current Xuan Wang held the reins of court affairs, wielding immense power that overshadowed the entire court. His words were something not even Wei Shuye, let alone Consort Rong, could afford to ignore.
Thinking this, Changle steeled her heart and lifted her skirt, preparing to board the carriage first. However, just as she took a step forward, the carriage curtain was lifted.
First, the corner of a robe swayed out from behind the curtain, followed by Wei Cheng Xuan bending slightly as he emerged from the carriage.
He was exceptionally tall, and standing atop the carriage, he exuded an aura of sovereign authority. Changle looked up at him, feeling momentarily breathless under such imposing majesty.
Wei Cheng Xuan stepped down from the carriage using the footstool, the hem of his robe brushing against its edge as he descended unhurriedly.
Today, his hair was tied up with a jade crown, and he wore a wide-sleeved robe of heartless green with a front opening, which accentuated his unparalleled and strikingly beautiful appearance.
Changle stared in a daze, finally understanding why Xuan Wang always wore a ghost-faced mask in the military.
Such a countenance was indeed far too radiant.
Wei Cheng Xuan stepped off the carriage and stopped about two paces away from Changle. "Speak. What is the matter?"
Changle was momentarily stunned before she regained her composure. "Little Imperial Uncle, you are aware of the engagement between me and the Third Prince."
"Last time, when Consort Rong and the Third Prince wanted to break off the engagement, I pleaded with many people, and in the end, it was only after I begged you and you intervened that this engagement was preserved for me."
"I know I shouldn't come to ask for your help again, but I am in urgent need now and cannot think of a better solution. I can only shamelessly seek your assistance once more, hoping you will help me again."
Wei Cheng Xuan lifted his eyelids indifferently. "Has Consort Rong ordered the Third Prince to break off the engagement with you again?"
"No," Changle shook her head. "This time, it is I who wish to break off the engagement. I beg you to help me once more."
Changle lowered her head and performed a curtsy, adopting a posture of utmost humility in her plea.
The last time she had begged Wei Cheng Xuan for help, he had made her stand in the rain for a full day and night. This time, it would likely be even more difficult to gain his agreement.
But no matter what demands Wei Cheng Xuan made, she was determined to fulfill them.
This engagement—she absolutely had to break it off.
It was likely that her repeated changes of heart appeared utterly foolish in Wei Cheng Xuan's eyes.
Back then, when times were so difficult, she had humbled herself and pleaded to preserve this engagement, still hoping to win back Wei Shuye, even if it meant sacrificing her dignity.
Now, however, she wanted to break off this engagement she had once begged for—truly laughable and embarrassing.
But Changle no longer cared.
After all, she had thick skin and wasn't afraid of embarrassment.
Changle lowered her head, nervously gripping the dagger in her hand. On her fair, delicate face, the palm prints on both sides were strikingly visible.
Wei Cheng Xuan's gaze, deep as an abyss, fixed on the swollen red marks, his eyes dark and unfathomable.