Shen Ruojin still wore a smile on her face, the tassels of her hairpin swaying and fluttering with her movements. Yet her heart pounded like a drum at that moment.
Having practiced martial arts for years, she had no experience with flirtation. Suddenly pulled by the waist into Qin Lang’s embrace, she thought to herself that such intimate gestures were common for newlyweds. But her body reacted faster than her mind—as soon as she hooked her arms around Qin Lang’s neck, she flung him away.
Only after he was already airborne, crashing into a table that shattered with a loud bang, did Shen Ruojin suddenly remember that this was her newlywed husband, not some lecherous scoundrel asking for a beating.
Young Prince Qin, noble and precious, was not meant to be thrown around.
She forcibly retracted her move and pulled him back.
Even in such a state, Qin Lang stubbornly refused to let go. He tightened his grip on Shen Ruojin’s wrist and, as he turned, stepped onto a wooden chair. Unable to control the force under his foot, he promptly crushed the chair.
In an instant, tables and chairs in the private room lay in pieces. Beaded curtains and gauze drapes shook loose, falling to block the prying gazes of the onlookers outside.
Qin Lang pressed Shen Ruojin against the window, leaning in slightly to whisper in her ear, “Are you trying to murder your husband, Shen Ruojin?”
Shen Ruojin withdrew her hand, wanting to put some distance between herself and Qin Lang. But with his arm still wrapped around her waist, she couldn’t break free. Instead, she leaned back, her back pressing against the windowsill. After a moment of tension, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of amusement.
“My apologies,” she said, suppressing a laugh. “This is my first time getting married, and I’m still not used to being this close to a man. How about we start over…”
Before she could finish speaking, Qin Lang suddenly leaned in closer, his thin lips mere inches from Shen Ruojin’s. If she lifted her head even slightly, they would meet.
They were so close that the man’s scorching breath washed over her, carrying an overwhelming sense of invasion.
Shen Ruojin watched Qin Lang calmly. This time, she didn’t throw him away, but her hand resting on the window frame unconsciously tightened.
Seventh Brother was right—getting married and navigating romance were far more challenging than fighting battles.
“No, you mustn’t fight!”
Steward Xiao He, who had been waiting outside, rushed over to mediate.
“Breaking things is a small matter, but damaging the harmony between newlyweds is serious. You really mustn’t resort to violence!”
Hearing the commotion of collapsing furniture that nearly shook the entire building, the troupe leader hurried over to intervene.
The two of them lifted the beaded curtains and gauze drapes from either side, rushing anxiously into the private room. Instead of witnessing a fight, they saw Qin Lang holding his bride by the waist, pressing her against the window…
“I saw nothing!”
“My apologies for disturbing you!”
Steward Xiao He and the troupe leader spoke simultaneously, their faces flushed like fiery clouds as they turned and retreated, not daring to look closely at whether the two were kissing or doing something else.
Shen Ruojin and Qin Lang had clearly done nothing, yet the two intruders made it seem as if they had engaged in some unspeakable act in the private room of the theater, with people both on and off the stage watching.
Shen Ruojin felt her cheeks grow slightly warm. She raised her hand to push Qin Lang away but, afraid of using too much force, only pressed a single finger against his chest to nudge him back slightly.
Qin Lang chuckled softly, releasing his hold on her waist. Turning toward the door, he called out, “Since you’re already here, why leave?”
“You two are busy. Wouldn’t it be awkward for us to stand around?”
The troupe leader was about to rush downstairs but was stopped by Young Prince Qin’s call. Though middle-aged and accustomed to the frivolous antics of noble sons, he still felt flustered by such a scene.
This young couple’s preferences were truly too peculiar!
What's with all the smashing tables and kicking chairs in the middle of getting intimate? This commotion is getting out of hand.
The audience below was eagerly waiting for the spectacle. Seeing the two rush in frantically and then retreat as if their backsides were on fire, they grew even more curious and asked, "What's going on in there?"
"N-nothing," the troupe leader replied with a subtle expression, keeping his lips tightly sealed.
Xiao He retreated behind a pillar, not daring to look into the private room again. He lowered his head and responded, "What are your orders, Second Master? It's not good for outsiders to see at a time like this. If you have any business, please just instruct me."
"What are you thinking?" Qin Lang stepped forward slowly, lifting the curtain with his folding fan to look outside. "Have someone come and clean this up, replace everything."
"Yes, yes," the troupe leader quickly agreed, secretly glancing at Young Prince Qin. His belt was still properly fastened, though his collar was slightly disheveled. It must have been their sudden intrusion that ruined the young prince's fun.
The troupe leader slapped his thigh in frustration: It's all your fault, why did you have to run so fast?
"Troupe Leader Huang, your tables and chairs aren't very sturdy—they collapse at the slightest touch. You should get better ones…"
As he spoke, Steward Xiao He pulled Troupe Leader Huang away.
The private room was in complete disarray. Qin Lang simply walked over to the railing and swept a glance over the crowd below. Holding his fan, he swayed it gently, smiling with carefree abandon. "Enjoy the show properly. Why are you looking at me? Should I bring a chair over so you can sit right in front of me and watch?"
On stage, the performers were as beautiful as paintings, singing and acting with great skill, but the audience below kept looking up at the newlyweds, whispering among themselves.
A familiar playboy laughed and responded, "No matter how good the show on stage is, how could it compare to the fun of watching Young Prince Qin tease his new bride?"
Qin Lang looked at the man. "Beating you up would be even more fun. Want to give it a try?"
"Just joking, just joking…" The man immediately covered his head with both hands, smiling apologetically and begging for mercy.
Last night, the son of the prime minister's household had been beaten by Qin Lang so badly he had to be carried home. This troublemaker truly meant it when he said he'd fight—no one dared provoke him.
With this outburst, the crowd below no longer dared to look up at the second floor.
Shen Ruojin stepped out slowly and stood beside Qin Lang at the railing on the second floor.
The shifting light and shadows in the building, along with the melodious opera singing, made it hard to distinguish day from night or even remember what year it was.
Haitang Hong captivated the audience on stage, occasionally casting a glance toward the second floor, brimming with charm.
Who wouldn't be mesmerized by those eyes, deep and enchanting like autumn waters?
Watching the graceful beauty on stage, Shen Ruojin quietly asked the person beside her, "Qin Lang, is it fun to spend a fortune in one go?"
"Just so-so."
Qin Lang was of noble status, born with the power and wealth others could only dream of achieving in a lifetime. Losing a fortune overnight meant nothing to him—it just added to his reputation as a libertine.
But since Shen Ruojin was asking, there must be a reason behind it.
He raised an eyebrow and said, "You want to try?"
Shen Ruojin nodded. "Yes, let's give it a try."
At that moment, the opera on stage reached its finale. Haitang Hong flicked her water sleeves and gracefully took her bow.
Cheers erupted from below, with fans scrambling to throw rewards onto the stage—gold, silver, jewelry, scented pouches, money bags, you name it. One elderly man, caught up in the excitement, even took off the jade thumb ring from his hand and tossed it up.
Shen Ruojin felt around her waist but couldn't find anything valuable enough to throw.
"Here." Qin Lang casually took a luminous pearl from his sleeve and handed it over.
Shen Ruojin took it and toyed with it for a moment before handing it back. "This won't do. I have a strong grip—it would be a shame to shatter the night pearl, and even more of a shame to injure a beauty."
"This flower is nice," she said, plucking a crabapple blossom from a nearby vase and tossing it onto the stage.
Among the many spectators throwing rewards onto the stage, most were rare and valuable items, yet Haitang Hong caught only the crabapple blossom Shen Ruojin had thrown.
The heavily made-up performer raised her eyes to the second floor, locking gazes with the newly wedded Princess Qin.
Someone in the audience jeered, "When watching opera in the capital, it's customary to reward with gold, silver, or jade. What does it mean to throw just a flower?"
Shen Ruojin replied with calm composure, "I offer a crabapple blossom to Haitang Hong. With this flower as my pledge, I would gladly exchange a thousand pieces of gold for your freedom."