“What are you standing there for? Didn’t the nanny teach you how to serve?”
Qiao Shuyi’s voice rang out, teasing and haughty.
In the book, Qiao Shuyi, infatuated with Zong Zhengheng’s face, was the legitimate daughter of a noble family yet catered to his every whim, fearing to displease him.
Now that it was her, she had no such patience.
If she was going to suffer, then no one else would have it easy either.
Zong Zhengheng stepped forward and stood by the bed.
Qiao Shuyi also sat up.
She lifted her foot, her slender right leg emerging from the smooth silk nightgown, revealing a section of calf as fair as jade.
Her ankle was delicate, her arch graceful.
She stretched her foot taut, her toes painted with rouge, the red and white contrasting sharply, stunningly vivid.
“Why are you just standing there? Put my shoes on.”
Zong Zhengheng lowered his gaze, a dangerous glint flashing in the depths of his eyes.
But, after a moment, he slowly knelt down.
His large, slightly calloused hand grasped her ankle—
This hand, with its distinct knuckles, had once wielded swords, held brushes, and commanded nations. Now, it held a woman’s ankle.
A warm sensation spread from his palm, her skin as cool as jade yet smooth and warming.
With his other hand, he picked up the delicate embroidered shoe and slipped it onto her foot.
Yet Zong Zhengheng felt no hint of intimacy; his deep, slanted eyes were fixed intently on her foot.
Qiao Shuyi seemed quite different from what his investigation had revealed. Though spoiled, she was not without cunning.
Knowing that the male consort she had taken by force harbored hatred for her, she had immediately given him Power-Dissipating Powder upon entering Jinglan Manor, ensuring he dared not act recklessly now.
If his identity were exposed, alerting Qiao Nanyu, his life would be forfeited in Jinzhou.
Zong Zhengheng had fought his way through the princes to ascend the throne; patience and disguise were etched into his very bones.
Enduring a moment’s humiliation in exchange for eternal achievement—this was a trade he understood all too well.
Qiao Shuyi raised the corner of her eye slightly, gazing at the male lead from the book.
Though Zong Zhengheng had many women in his harem, his first true intimacy was with the female lead.
No doubt, at this moment, he still intended to save his “first time” for Su Yunyan.
As she pondered, the shoe on her right foot was already in place.
Qiao Shuyi lifted her now-shod right foot and placed it on his shoulder.
Leaning forward, she looked down at him:
“Zhi Gui—”
“Has no one ever told you that serving me has always required kneeling?”
Zong Zhengheng’s dark eyes were unfathomable.
His gaze fell on the hem of her skirt draped by her foot—the fabric was cloud brocade, a tribute from Shu, worth its weight in gold, something ordinary people could never afford in a lifetime.
Yet now, the owner of that skirt was tapping his shoulder with her toes, her posture arrogant, as if he were nothing more than a dog begging at her feet.
He was the Emperor of Great Zhang—how could he kneel before a woman!
Qiao Shuyi waited a moment, but there was no movement. She raised an eyebrow:
“Well?”
“If the young lady wishes to kill me, then kill me. If she wishes to flay me, then flay me. But to make me kneel—”
“I cannot comply.”
After speaking, he looked up at her, neither avoiding her gaze nor showing deference.
Though kneeling at her feet in a humble posture, the way he looked at her felt as if he were looking down upon her.
Qiao Shuyi suddenly laughed.
“Interesting, but… what I love most is—breaking pride.”
“Zhi Gui, the more you resist, the more interested I become in you.”
As her words fell, she suddenly raised her voice and called out:
“An Yi.”
A dark figure silently descended into the room.
Qiao Shuyi lazily lifted her chin:
“Since he refuses to kneel, then find a way—make him kneel.”
An Yi did not respond, only his figure flickered as he appeared behind Zong Zhengheng.
In the next instant, a hand rested on his shoulder.
Zong Zhengheng felt a surge of powerful internal energy pour into his shoulder acupoint, like a mountain collapsing upon him, leaving him no room for resistance.
One leg seemed to have its tendons and bones forcibly removed, bending uncontrollably—
“Thud.”
His knee struck the ground.
Zong Zhengheng lowered his lashes, concealing the surging murderous intent and ferocity in his eyes.
Yet his back remained ramrod straight.
An Yi raised his hand again, preparing to force his other leg down as well.
“Enough.”
“Step back.”
An Yi withdrew his hand, his figure flickering once more before vanishing.
The room returned to silence.
Qiao Shuyi retracted the foot she had placed on his shoulder and leaned down.
Her face was close to his, so close that her breath brushed against his skin.
This face was truly beautiful.
Eyebrows sharp as blades, eyes cold as stars—even now, kneeling at her feet, his expression still held an unyielding defiance.
Her fingertip slowly traced along his brow bone, over his eyelid, down the bridge of his nose, finally resting on his tightly pressed lips.
“Isn’t this kneeling now? Zhi Gui, I am the legitimate daughter of the Prince of Jin’an. You are but a commoner—why would you not kneel?”
Zong Zhengheng looked up, meeting her clear, almost transparent eyes. There was no mockery, no triumph, only a calm that seemed utterly natural.
As if she truly did not understand—why he would refuse to kneel.
A slight chill ran through his heart.
Was she testing him, or… was she truly just asking casually?
He suppressed the turbulent emotions in his eyes and replied obediently, “This humble commoner knows his mistake.”
At this moment, he could not act rashly, nor could he arouse her suspicion.
Qiao Shuyi pinched his chin, her gaze sweeping over his face with an invasive intensity:
“Zhi Gui, your face is truly beautiful.”
“You kneel, you say you know your mistake, yet your eyes remain unyielding, unbroken—it only makes me more… fascinated.”
“I really… like you so much…”
Zong Zhengheng met her gaze, watching the infatuation in her eyes, feeling a momentary surge of disgust.
Like?
If she liked him, would she make him sleep in the woodshed on the first day, force him to carry water, make him kneel to put on her shoes?
Yet Qiao Shuyi seemed completely unaware of his thoughts. After speaking, she pointed to her other foot, still bare:
“Put my other shoe on as well.”
“As long as you are obedient—” she drew out the last syllable, her tone meaningful, “I can give you anything, Zhi Gui.”
Anything?
Zong Zhengheng sneered inwardly.
So be it.
Today’s humiliation, he would remember.
Once he found evidence of the Prince of Jin’an’s rebellion, he would repay it a hundredfold, a thousandfold.
The shoe was put on.
Qiao Shuyi adjusted the dress that had slipped from her shoulder and rose from the bed.
A silk nightgown, light as mist, swayed with her movements, outlining her graceful figure.
Her way of walking was also different from that of ordinary noblewomen—her waist swayed gently, her steps unhurried, appearing lazy and casual, yet exuding an air of noble dignity.
She walked to the doorway and paused.
“Fuzhi, you need not attend to my bath today.”
Fuzhi respectfully replied, “Yes.”
Qiao Shuyi leaned against the doorframe, her jade-like finger pointing toward Zong Zhengheng, who still knelt on the floor without rising.
“Zhi Gui, you will attend to me.”
Zong Zhengheng’s hands, clenched behind his back, tightened until his knuckles turned white.
Her eyes held a blatant, unmistakable implication.
Could it be that he, an emperor in his own right, would truly be forced to lose his purity to this madwoman?
Before entering Jinglan Garden, Zong Zhengheng knew there would be a body search, so he secretly discarded all the medicine he was carrying.
He had thought that with his martial arts skills, coming and going from this place unnoticed would be as easy as turning his hand.
But he never expected that as soon as he entered, she would administer Power-Dissipating Powder to him.
Now, his martial arts were rendered useless, and the entire courtyard was filled with vigilant hidden guards.
If Qiao Shuyi truly intended to force him, it seemed he had no way to resist?
After a long silence, Zong Zhengheng lowered his gaze and said, “Yes.”
Then, he followed her.