Chapter 100: You Take the Blame

Lan Wu really shouldn’t have said anything to contradict Chu Mingheng at this moment, but she had been spoiled rotten. No matter how severe the consequences, she had already endured them once. Pampered by Chu Mingheng, how could she still remember the lesson? Since Chu Mingheng wouldn’t kill her anyway, she naturally wanted to make herself comfortable.

“What did you say?” Chu Mingheng gripped her wrist, his voice unexpectedly calm. Even his gaze toward Lan Wu was steady and unruffled, yet there was an eerie, unnatural chill to this composure that felt out of place.

Lan Wu softly cried out in pain, blinking as she looked at her clenched wrist. Her skin was delicate; even a slight exertion from Chu Mingheng could easily leave red marks.

Seeing that Lan Wu wouldn’t repeat what she had just said, Chu Mingheng lowered his head slightly, pressing his forehead against hers, then casually turned toward Dan Shan. “Regarding today’s matter, I have already ordered that all the palace servants of Yilan Hall receive ten strokes of the rod. Go and witness the punishment.”

Dan Shan’s expression remained unchanged as she bowed her head and acknowledged the order.

Lan Wu’s eyes widened, her breath catching as if she were overwhelmed with anger. She bit her lip anxiously, stepping in front of Chu Mingheng to block his path. “I came here of my own accord. You can’t be unreasonable.”

Chu Mingheng gently touched her face and said, “I can.”

With that, he prepared to take her away.

Lan Wu refused, but she couldn’t match Chu Mingheng’s strength. Stumbling, she was swept into his arms.

“You’re like this… I’m scared when you’re like this. Please don’t…” Lan Wu trembled slightly in his embrace, sobbing as she spoke of her fear. Even though she knew his steps were steady, she couldn’t help but shiver.

Her earlier tears in the hall had been feigned, but now she was truly crying.

“What are you afraid of me for?” Chu Mingheng seemed to let out a cold scoff, his steps never faltering. “You’ve never feared me. It’s I who fear you.”

Yet even as he said this, Lan Wu’s tears continued to fall, dripping from her cheeks onto his neck.

Chu Mingheng naturally felt it.

He lowered his head and glanced sideways at Lan Wu, seeing her silent, tear-streaked face as she bit her lip, crying like a rain-soaked pear blossom. His expression darkened slightly.

He stopped in his tracks, and after a moment of consideration, he changed his mind. “Seven strokes of the rod, as a lesson.”

Lan Wu continued to sob softly, offering no response.

Chu Mingheng restrained himself again and again, but when he glanced back at Dan Shan, his temple throbbed with irritation.

He knew all too well why Dan Shan had allowed Lan Wu to come here. Back then, his mother had endured everything, day after day, nearly driving herself to death. That was why Dan Shan let Lan Wu do as she pleased—venting her anger was what mattered most.

Venting anger was important, but running around without a word, not even informing him, and ending up in such a disheveled state… Consort Li had even threatened to have her apprehended. If he hadn’t come, what if Lan Wu had suffered…

Thinking of this, his heart hardened further.

Lan Wu’s tearful voice whispered softly in his ear, choked with sobs and pitifully fragile. “Punish me… just punish me… I’m going to be punished anyway… wuwuwu…”

Chu Mingheng tightened his grip around her, his face cold. “Do you think you can escape it?”

Lan Wu cried even more sorrowfully, not caring about the palace servants watching or feeling embarrassed. With Chu Mingheng holding her in such a public setting, who would dare gossip?

“Three strokes of the rod. The rest, you take the blame.” Chu Mingheng changed his mind one last time, his tone even sounding somewhat harsh.

Lan Wu was still crying, feeling not the slightest relief but rather a growing sense of dread.

Once inside the Imperial Carriage, she heard Chu Mingheng order the driver to head toward Taichen Palace.

She immediately tried to wriggle out of his embrace, only to be pressed back down firmly.

“We’re in the carriage—what’s all this fuss about?” Chu Mingheng soothed her, patting her back and letting his hand glide down her spine to rest gently on the small of her back, drawing her even closer into his arms.

Lan Wu stared at him blankly, her lips parting. “Not Taichen Palace… let’s go back…”

Chu Mingheng wiped the tears from her face with utmost tenderness, yet his words were firm. “We’re not going back. It was agreed—you’re the one who’ll make up for it.”

He mused casually, his voice soft. “You didn’t like the small chamber last time. I’ve reflected on it—this time, you should like it.”

Seeing Lan Wu about to protest again, he reached out and pinched the tip of her chin, his thumb pressing gently against her lower lip, soft and yielding as it sank slightly. He smiled. “Ah Wu, you have to stand by your own words.”

Lan Wu lowered her gaze, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, still trying to defend herself, putting up a stubborn resistance. “Your Majesty said I was to be confined. I won’t leave—I’ll stay in Yilan Hall, just as you said.”

Chu Mingheng kissed her. “I did say you’d be confined, and it’s the same at Taichen Palace.”

But deep down, Lan Wu still felt she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Are you punishing me because I caused a scene at Jinghua Palace?” she gritted her teeth, a hint of grievance in her voice.

Yet Chu Mingheng said no.

“How could I punish you because of others?”

He spoke leisurely but didn’t elaborate further, pressing Lan Wu’s head against his chest so she could listen closely, think carefully.

Think about how frantically he had searched for her, how his heart still raced anxiously even now. Think about whether he was afraid she might vanish suddenly, just like in that dream.

Let Lan Wu, with her unenlightened pearl of a heart, think it over properly.

Lan Wu couldn’t figure it out, but she was exhausted from crying, the tip of her nose slightly reddened. Leaning against Chu Mingheng, she gradually grew drowsy, watching as the red palace walls slipped past the Imperial Carriage, stretching out behind them, drawing ever closer to Taichen Palace.

It’s just a few days—I’m not afraid.

Yet her mind still lingered on what Chu Mingheng had said earlier. She truly hadn’t liked that small chamber—it was too cramped, the walls too high, the windows too high, with nothing to see. She didn’t like Taichen Palace either—too vast, too quiet, too unfamiliar.

The heartbeat beside her ear gradually grew steady, as if the frantic pounding from before had been nothing but her imagination.

Soon after, the Imperial Carriage came to a halt—they had arrived at Taichen Palace.

Chu Mingheng led her out.

“Have the meal served.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Taichen Palace was lit with palace lanterns everywhere, the main hall brilliantly illuminated. The palace attendants moved about quietly, their steps measured, as if instinctively hushing all sound.

But this solemn silence was broken by Lan Wu.

“I want wine, I want wine—” she stood stubbornly in place, staring straight at Chu Mingheng.

The palace attendants couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat, all poised to kneel, but they soon heard His Majesty’s concession.

“Someone, fetch her some wine,” Chu Mingheng turned his head slightly and ordered. “Bring the grape wine presented by the Yuyue tribe.”

He didn’t need to think to know why Lan Wu wanted wine—to bolster her courage. She claimed not to be afraid, but deep down, she still was.

If it was because she feared she might say something disrespectful later, he could still understand. But if it was because she feared him…

Chu Mingheng closed his eyes faintly, lost in thought for a moment. When he looked at Lan Wu again, a faint glint of ferocity flickered in his eyes.

Lan Wu cautiously glanced at him, then peered outside. Seeing that neither Dan Shan nor Mujin had followed, she finally let out a sigh of relief.