Chapter 51: He Shouted, “Come Back.”
“Thank you, Third Highness. Once today’s crisis is resolved, Xue’e will surely express her gratitude to Your Highness properly.”
Before boarding the carriage, Wen Xueling shot a sidelong glance at Gan Qiongying, who was watching her with visible resentment.
Then, she offered Zhongli Zhengzhen a gentle, elegant smile—delicate, refined, and tender.
Only then did she slip inside the carriage.
Finally seated with the help of her maid, her ankle found some relief.
But she paid no mind to the pain in her ankle, immediately scanning every detail of the carriage’s interior.
The decor was dominated by solemn, dark tones, subtly hinting at understated luxury—perfectly matching Zhongli Zhengzhen’s style of handling affairs.
Outside the carriage, the wind chimes tinkled softly, making her heart flutter like a lively fish, its tail wagging incessantly.
Ever since arriving in Yindu, she had been quite curious about Zhongli Zhengzhen, who had never been particularly attentive to her. Because of Duan Rong, she had paid him extra attention.
She felt that, as a Jinchuan hostage, he carried himself with neither humility nor arrogance among Yindu’s royalty. Tall, imposing, and dignified, he was serious and decisive in his actions, and he never even glanced at Duan Rong’s advances.
All these “uniquenesses” piled up, gradually accumulating into what could be called fondness.
Thus, Zhongli Zhengzhen’s current “gentleness and humility” naturally set her inexperienced heart racing wildly.
But no matter how frantically her heart pounded inside, it couldn’t overshadow the undercurrents still swirling between the two outside.
Gan Qiongying was genuinely unwilling—this wasn’t an act. She had marked Zhongli Zhengzhen, that bastard, in her mind!
What the hell was he meddling for? He’d cost her a fortune!
“Since the matter is now resolved, Princess Duanrong, farewell.” Zhongli Zhengzhen felt this confrontation had been a resounding victory.
In truth, he hadn’t even realized he had already stepped into the deep pit Gan Qiongying had truly laid for him.
He hadn’t realized he had been inexplicably stirred into a competitive spirit, determined to outshine her in front of her, to make her chase after him and look up to him as she once did.
This was the biggest misconception.
Because Zhongli Zhengzhen, the male lead, should have remained cold and indifferent toward Princess Duanrong, the villainess, throughout the entire plot.
Yet here he was, provoked into showing off in front of her—wasn’t that already falling into the trap?
Unfortunately, what lay at the bottom of Gan Qiongying’s trap wasn’t the “playing hard to get” he imagined, but pure mud and rubble. If Zhongli Zhengzhen dared to truly fall in,
Gan Qiongying would absolutely bury him right there.
Her ability to grasp Zhongli Zhengzhen’s nature so accurately was partly due to Duan Rong’s memories, but his own arrogance and pride also played a role.
Most importantly, a man like Zhongli Zhengzhen wasn’t particularly unique in this novel’s setting—wasn’t he just a typical ancient domineering CEO?
Judging by the tormenting, heart-wrenching scenes between him and the female lead, he was arrogant, self-centered, and utterly convinced of his own superiority.
To capture his attention, it had to be the cliché of “woman, how dare you be like this.”
Duan Rong had chased after him for so long, elevating his arrogance to its peak. Now, Gan Qiongying had pulled the rug out from under him.
He was bound to come crashing down.
And this was only the beginning.
Gan Qiongying would make him experience, from every angle and without mercy, what it meant to be “nothing but trash in my eyes.”
She would ruthlessly reshape his personality and beliefs!
Gan Qiongying was out of money, gritting her teeth as she mentally “bloodily tortured” Zhongli Zhengzhen.
After enjoying her “loss of control,” Zhongli Zhengzhen, before mounting his horse, even curled one corner of his mouth at her, revealing a smile that could be described as wicked and arrogant.
Gan Qiongying: “…” Damn it, she was provoked into a competitive spirit!
She was about to make this bastard who cut off her livelihood and murdered her parents unable to laugh.
She decided to demand repayment!
Since she had to get it back sooner or later, she might as well make him lose face right now, trampled under horse hooves!
“Third Prince, don’t rush off,” Gan Qiongying said. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
Supported by her maid, Gan Qiongying took two steps toward Zhongli Zhengzhen’s horse.
Just two steps.
Then the carriage door behind her, which had been closed all along, opened.
Lihua pushed open the door, half-crouching in the carriage, his hands clenched tightly inside his sleeves, his voice strained as he spoke: “Princess.”
Lihua didn’t know why he had come out.
But he truly couldn’t hold back. He had been listening inside the carriage to the exchange between Gan Qiongying and Princess Xue’e. His mind was in chaos because of his earlier near-transgressive actions, and… and the choice he had to make regarding the Haoyue Manor trip.
He kept questioning himself: What was he deluding himself about?
Someone like him, abandoned by his birth parents and forced into submission—aside from “dying” under an assumed name, did he really have any other way out?
He couldn’t abandon the attendants who had followed him for years, held hostage and imprisoned.
Nor could he keep a wife like Princess Duanrong.
Once war broke out between the two nations, they would be mortal enemies, separated by the crimes of destroying a country and killing kin!
How could he covet her faint traces of tenderness? How could he cling to her inexplicable “change of heart,” losing his head over a few words like “going home,” wanting to abandon everything?
Inside the carriage, he reflected, blamed himself, loathed himself, and tormented himself.
His blood ran cold, and he lowered his heart to its lowest point. He believed he could control himself well.
But then he heard Zhongli Zhengzhen’s voice.
He heard Gan Qiongying speaking to Zhongli Zhengzhen.
He pushed open the carriage window slightly and saw Gan Qiongying’s attention fixed on Zhongli Zhengzhen, watching as she deliberately slandered them to prevent Zhongli Zhengzhen and Princess Xue’e from riding together.
She… clearly still cared so much about Zhongli Zhengzhen.
Just as she had before.
Lihua felt as if an invisible hand had seized his heart in his chest and tightened around his throat.
This hand was called fate, following him like a festering sore from the moment he was born.
Between twins, only one could survive—a rule the royal family had to uphold. Yet, just because he was born slightly thinner than Zhongli Zhengzhen, should he have been the one abandoned, strangled, and smashed into a bloody pulp, left with a lifelong disability and a crippled leg?
He was clearly the one born first.
He was clearly the one who should have been kept.
He was clearly the one who should have had parents to care for him, a home to return to, and grown up in glory.
He! Was clearly the one Princess Duanrong should have pursued, disregarding all propriety and shame!
At this moment, a spark fell into the wasteland of Lihua’s heart, igniting a raging fire that consumed the desolation within.
The flame licked over all his bones and flesh, burning him until he could no longer sit still, until his skin and flesh were charred and he tore open the carriage curtain.
He watched his wife walk toward the brother he had envied, admired, and even hated all his life. His reason could no longer restrain him.
It transformed into a steel spear, piercing straight through his heart and lungs.
Thus, trembling, he opened his mouth and called out to Gan Qiongying.
He called her: “Princess.”
He shouted: “Come back.”
His eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s, as piercing and stern as Zhongli Zhengzhen’s. He stared deeply at Gan Qiongying’s back, almost burning through her with his gaze.
At least once in his life, was he truly unworthy of being chosen with unwavering conviction?
From afar, he met Zhongli Zhengzhen’s eyes, which were identical to his own.
In his heart, he thought, even if only for this moment, at least something should belong to him once.
At least.