“……”
Qin Fei trembled as she turned her head back toward Cen Hejue. Thank goodness this had happened right in front of him—otherwise, she’d never be able to explain herself.
“They’re waiting for your reply. Why are you staring at me?” Cen Hejue arched a brow, the teasing gesture at odds with the chill in his gaze. Just one fleeting look from him was enough to make her shiver all over.
Qin Fei swallowed hard and turned back to Wei Caixing. “Sorry, I…”
Wei Caixing’s wide, clear eyes fixed on her. “?”
“I…”
It was the first time Qin Fei had ever been caught in such an awkward situation. She had no idea where to even begin clarifying.
“Actually…”
“I…”
Her eyes flicked back again.
Cen Hejue stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his handsome face calm, but the way he looked at her was off—tinged with a faint hostility.
From what she knew, Cen Hejue had lost his father young and grown up carrying hatred. Outwardly, he seemed indifferent to everything, but when it came to what was his, his possessiveness ran deep. He might not like her, but for now, she was still his fiancée in name. She had no desire to provoke him further.
“……”
“Well…” Qin Fei looked at Wei Caixing. “My house is on fire. I need to go.”
She turned to flee, but the boy caught her sleeve. Realizing too late how forward he’d been, Wei Caixing quickly let go, his ears flushing red. “Sorry, I… Where do you live? I’ll take you there.”
“Her home is the palace. I doubt the young prince could get in,” came a cool voice from the side.
Wei Caixing froze, following the sound to Cen Hejue. “You know this girl, Perceptor?”
Qin Fei: “Alright, fine. My house isn’t on fire. I’m already engaged. Sorry about that.”
Wei Caixing blinked, disappointment flashing across his face. Hearing Cen Hejue’s words, he pieced it together. “You’re… the Eighth Princess?”
Qin Fei nodded quickly and pointed at Cen Hejue. “That’s my fiancé.”
Cen Hejue chuckled, his tone unreadable. “Am I?”
“You’re not?” Qin Fei blinked at him.
Cen Hejue lifted his brow slightly. “Just now, Your Highness stayed silent for so long I almost began to doubt whether I truly was.”
“……”
Wei Caixing quickly clasped his fists and bowed. “My apologies, my apologies—Caixing was presumptuous toward Your Highness and the Grand Preceptor. Please, I beg you both not to take offense.”
By now, the young women on the boat had all come out. Seeing Qin Fei, they thanked her repeatedly, their excitement plain.
Qin Fei only felt her embarrassment deepen. She had managed to play the hero for once—only for Cen Hejue to witness it. How on earth was she supposed to explain this later?!
“I truly must apologize for earlier.” Wei Caixing stole a glance at Qin Fei, then added, “Perhaps… I could invite you to a meal?”
Qin Fei was just about to agree.
“Ahem…” Qi Siluo stretched his limbs. “Why does it feel like the weather’s getting colder?”
“How about…” Qin Fei obediently walked over to Cen Hejue’s side, tugged at his sleeve, and smiled at Wei Caixing. “Why don’t you invite us both?”
Wei Caixing blinked, then slowly nodded. “Alright.”
After disembarking, the Prefect of Kaifeng ordered the bandits escorted to the yamen, then bowed to Qin Fei and Cen Hejue. “Princess, once I uncover the origins of this gang, I will report to you both without delay.”
When the officials had left, Gu Nian—having taken an antidote for the wine—was somewhat clearer, but still unfit to join them for dinner. Upon seeing Er Ya ashore, Qin Fei entrusted her and Ah Yan to take Gu Nian home first.
Wei Caixing rarely visited the capital, so the restaurant was Qi Siluo’s recommendation: Zhenxiu Pavilion.
The waiter greeted Qi Siluo warmly and led them upstairs to a private room. Wei Caixing proved generous—every dish the waiter suggested, he ordered without hesitation.
It was only then that Qin Fei realized he was the son of the old Prince Wei.
In the original tale, Prince Wei was a formidable figure. In his youth, he had galloped across battlefields, winning great victories. He had served the late emperor faithfully, and even under the current Emperor, though aged, he remained respected. The Emperor granted him Daming Prefecture as his fief.
Daming was a vital military stronghold, and Prince Wei still commanded his own private troops. The Emperor, suspicious by nature, nevertheless trusted that Prince Wei would not rebel. That trust alone spoke volumes of the old prince’s brilliance.
In the novel, Prince Wei grew disgusted with the Emperor’s weakness. He later favored Song Jinglan, hoping to place him on the throne. But the late emperor died before his work was done, and Song Jinglan himself succumbed to a sudden heart attack at the heroine’s grave.
When Cen Hejue finally ascended the throne, the very first man he eliminated was Prince Wei.
“……”
Looking at Wei Caixing and his gentle, well-behaved sister Wei Ahyue, Qin Fei couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. With Prince Wei gone, the siblings might not survive either.
“Your Highness is watching so intently…” A warm breath brushed her ear, making Qin Fei shudder. She met Cen Hejue’s deep, black eyes and couldn’t suppress the goosebumps rising on her skin.
Cen Hejue stirred the abalone porridge, breaking the pieces apart spoonful by spoonful until they were thoroughly shredded. His tone was unreadable. “Does it look good?”
Qin Fei couldn’t tell if he meant Wei Caixing—or the porridge in front of him. Either way, she dared not nod.
“Has no one ever told Your Highness that when eating, one should simply eat?” He lifted his lids lazily, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, and brought it to his lips.
Suddenly— His wrist tightened, stopped by Qin Fei’s hand.
“Don’t eat that.”
Cen Hejue frowned, displeasure flickering as he glanced at her grip on his hand.
Qin Fei snatched the spoon away and set it back in the bowl. “You can’t eat this.”
“What?” Surprise crossed his face, as though he hadn’t expected it.
Qin Fei pointed at the porridge. “This will make you sick.”
For a moment, his gaze froze. “How do you know?”
Qin Fei remembered a detail from the book: to highlight Cen Hejue’s ruthlessness, it was written that he was allergic to abalone and seafood. Even when symptoms appeared, he refused to stop—forcing himself to eat what hurt him, training his willpower, and hiding every weakness.
At the time, she’d thought he must be insane.
“I just know.” Qin Fei shot him an annoyed look. “If you can’t eat it, why force yourself? Don’t do that again.”
With that, the girl pulled the bowl toward herself, scooped up the porridge, and downed it in a few quick gulps. All the while, she kept glancing at his face, as if afraid he might snatch it back.
“……”
Cen Hejue studied her deeply, surprised at how well she seemed to understand him.
“It seems the Preceptor and Her Highness share a very close bond,” Wei Ahyue remarked curiously, her gaze darting between the two.
Qin Fei let out a startled sound, lifted her face, and glanced at Cen Hejue—nearly blurting out a retort to ask where Wei Ahyue had gotten that idea.
Wei Caixing, hearing this, looked at them again, the disappointment in his eyes growing heavier.
“Young Prince, since you rarely visit the capital, we must drink and make merry,” Qi Siluo interjected smoothly, raising his cup to clink against Wei Caixing’s.
Wei Caixing took a sip of wine, remembering he was the host today. He turned to Qin Fei and Cen Hejue. “Your Highness, Preceptor—since we’re celebrating, won’t you drink a little too?”
Cen Hejue declined; he disliked drinking in public.
Qin Fei, however, happily agreed. After just three or four cups, she had already drifted from Cen Hejue’s side to sit beside Wei Caixing—patting the young man’s shoulder and pouring him wine.
“The moment I saw you, hic, I thought—this kid’s got potential.”
Wei Caixing, eyes glazed, slurred back, “Miss, who are you? You’re… really pretty.”
Qin Fei waved him off with a click of her tongue. “Brothers don’t say things that ruin the mood. Come on, little brother—cheers with Dad.”
Qi Siluo stared at his own cup, unsure whether to keep drinking, and leaned toward Cen Hejue. “Your fiancée’s drinking habits are… something else.”
Cen Hejue lazily lifted his lids, his face utterly joyless. “Thanks to you for suggesting this.”
Qi Siluo raised a brow, glanced at Wei Caixing, and said, “Enough. If we keep going, the young prince won’t be able to walk. Cen Hejue, you take Qin Fei back later—I’ll escort the siblings home first.”
Cen Hejue turned abruptly to see Qin Fei still laughing and drinking with the boy. He rose, grabbed her by the collar, and hauled her away.
“Hey, hey—!”
“Who’s that?!”
“What kind of monkey has no manners?”
Qin Fei was clearly drunk beyond recognition—she didn’t even know who Cen Hejue was.
“No, this stage is too high. Lighting crew, stop flashing those lights—I’m going blind!”
With Er Ya and Ah Yan not yet back, Cen Hejue led the drunk girl toward the palace. But after only a few steps, she collapsed to the ground.
“Can’t walk anymore… ow.” She lay there, eyes vacant. Normally, Cen Hejue would have left a drunk behind without a second thought. He wanted to do it now, but the drunk clung to his leg.
“Let go.” He ground his teeth, glaring down at her.
“Mm…” Qin Fei rubbed her bleary eyes, stared at him blankly, and mumbled, “Where’d this handsome guy come from? What’s your name? Got a girlfriend? Mind having another?”
“……” Cen Hejue pried her hands off and strode forward.
“Swallow, where are you going, Swallow?”
“Will you come back, Swallow?”
“I can’t live without you, Swallow.”
“No—”
“Will you come back for dinner tonight?”
Her voice kept calling after him. Cen Hejue longed to plug his ears and keep walking.
Then suddenly—silence.
He didn’t intend to stop—unless she started crying.
“……”
Qin Fei covered her face, glimpsed his tall shadow, and looked up through tears into his fierce gaze.
“You came back?” She stretched out her arms, demanding a hug. “I can’t walk anymore.”
Cen Hejue drew a deep breath, crouched, and though he didn’t embrace her, he lifted her onto his back. She was light. Her thin arms naturally looped around his neck.
“……”
After two steps, she smacked his shoulder hard, nearly making him drop her.
“Useless bastard!” She suddenly cursed from behind. “Mom gave you everything—money, care, her hopes—and you wasted it, loafing around instead of studying. If it were me, I’d have studied hard, gone to college!”
Cen Hejue paused. He realized she wasn’t speaking as Qin Fei—but as the woman inside her. He stayed still, listening.
“What have you ever done for this family? Why does she only love you? Just because you’re a boy? What’s so great about that? I don’t understand why you deserve her favoritism. Why did she take you to the amusement park? Why wouldn’t she even buy me a school uniform?”
Her body trembled, sobbing. “Why was the drumstick always yours? Why did you get the fried egg? Why are you so heartless?”
By now, Cen Hejue understood—she was talking about her mother and younger brother, the mother who favored the boy and neglected her.
“Since you don’t love me, why did you give birth to me? You’re his mother—aren’t you mine too? I just… wanted you to like me.” Her tears soaked his back, as though she were crying out years of grievance all at once.
Cen Hejue sighed and set her down. She immediately punched his chest, then recoiled. “You’re not them. Who are you? Don’t come closer—I’ll call the police!”
She fumbled frantically for something on herself, couldn’t find it, and began crying again. His patience was nearly gone. Then, her waist was suddenly caught in his hand. He pulled, and she stumbled forward into his arms.
The familiar sandalwood scent reached her nose. She froze, confused.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m already holding you.” Cen Hejue wrapped her tightly, his voice softening, almost coaxing. “Don’t cry anymore.”