"You…!" Lang Huan grabbed Feng Yao's wrist tightly, her voice firm. "Tell me the truth! How did Your Highness find out…?"
She stared into Feng Yao's eyes. This woman was beautiful but poisonous, full of secrets and schemes.
Feng Yao shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. No one had ever dared to question her like this. She was always the one asking, never the one answering. Stubbornly, she kept her silence.
"Your Highness already knows I'm a woman," Lang Huan said, her voice shaking slightly. "So why do you still say you like me? What do you really want from me?"
Her grip tightened. "What are you hiding from me?"
"I won't be angry," she added, a little softer now. "As long as Your Highness tells me everything."
Lang Huan was a simple, straightforward person. She disliked intrigues. And yet, fate had made her fall for the most complicated woman she had ever known.
Her question hit Feng Yao like a blade to the chest.
Which truth are you really asking for, Lang Huan?
Was it that I planted spies around you since you were a child?
That I approached you with hidden motives—and ended up falling into my own trap by falling for you?
Or that I was the one who sent assassins to kill you and your mother nine years ago?
Feng Yao placed a hand over her chest, which felt tight and heavy.
Lang Huan blinked, sensing a shadow of sorrow in Feng Yao's gaze. Why? It was just a simple question.
"Was it Ruochen who told you?" Lang Huan asked again, her brow furrowed in confusion and suspicion.
She shouldn't have said that name.
Feng Yao's expression turned cold in an instant, her eyes dark and unreadable. Without a word, she pushed Lang Huan's hand away and turned toward the bed.
"What is your relationship with her?" Feng Yao snapped. Her voice was sharp, almost accusing. "You told her you're a woman—but never told me. Did you even know she hid the truth about what really happened when you both fell off that cliff? What happened between you two, exactly?"
Her voice rose with each question, heavy with jealousy and something deeper.
Lang Huan stood frozen. She was normally composed, but she was starting to lose patience as Feng Yao was avoiding her questions—twisting the conversation with questions of her own—none of which she wanted to hear.
"Stop avoiding my question!" Lang Huan shouted, her voice breaking with frustration. "Your Highness, just tell me the truth!"
The room fell silent.
Then—knock, knock—a soft knock sounded at the door.
A servant's voice came from outside: "Someone named Lin Ruochen is here to see you."
Lang Huan's breath caught. She hadn't expected this. Not now.
Feng Yao gave her a mocking smile.
"You don't want to answer me? Fine. Then I'll ask her myself."
She rose, pulling on her outer robe with sharp, deliberate movements, and walked toward the door.
Ah… so the Duke of Huguo had been right after all.
If you marry the Eldest Princess, no matter how strong you are, you'll never be able to control a woman as headstrong as her.
Just as Feng Yao reached for the door, Lang Huan rushed forward and hugged her from behind, stopping her in her tracks. With one hand, she covered Feng Yao's mouth, and with the other, she called out toward the door, "Tell her to wait—we, husband and wife, have something urgent to settle!"
Feng Yao struggled furiously and shoved at her, then bit down hard on Lang Huan's hand.
"Aaaargh!" Lang Huan cried out in pain. The sound startled the inn servant, who turned bright red and scurried away in a flustered panic.
Infuriated, Lang Huan bent down and swept Feng Yao off her feet, carrying her straight to the bed. She dropped her gently but firmly onto the bed, then held up her palm.
"Look at this!" she exclaimed, showing the bleeding bite mark. "Why do you always bite me?!"
Feng Yao didn't answer. She sat silently, then lowered her head—and to Lang Huan's surprise, began to cry in silence, her tears spilling down one by one.
All the sharp edges in Lang Huan's heart dulled at the sight.
She sighed, sat beside her, and gently pulled her into an embrace. "Alright… alright, it's my fault. Don't cry."
Lang Huan felt guilty. She didn't know why she had lost control like that. Was it panic? The fear that her identity had been exposed? Or… was it doubt—doubt that Feng Yao might not truly like her.
She stroked her back, slow, and soothing. "Why are you crying like this?"
"You bullied me," Feng Yao said in a soft voice, choked with emotion. "You yelled at me… no one ever dares to yell at me."
Lang Huan's heart melted further. "Ahh… Your Highness is right. I was wrong," she said, gently wiping away Feng Yao's tears and kissing her cheek.
"You always say you like me," Feng Yao murmured, still sniffling, "but you're so fierce with me."
Lang Huan gave a helpless laugh and pulled her closer. "I do like you. That's why I lose my temper. When you keep everything from me… it hurts."
Feng Yao stayed quiet, but her fingers slowly reached for Lang Huan's sleeve, holding on tightly—as if afraid she might slip away. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks.
Lang Huan looked at her, heart aching, and said gently, "If you don't stop crying soon, your eyes will get all swollen. What if A-Li and the others see you like that?"
Feng Yao scowled at her words. "It's your fault… it's all your fault!"
"Yes… I know," Lang Huan said quickly, planting soft kisses on her cheeks, catching each tear as it fell. "It's my fault."
"And look—there's no makeup here. How are you going to cover your face if your eyes swell up?"
"Stop making me angrier," Feng Yao muttered, half embarrassed, half sulking.
"Alright, don't be angry anymore. I'm wrong. Really." Lang Huan glanced toward the window. The sky outside was already brightening. They hadn't slept a wink all night.
"We should get some rest first," she said softly, coaxing her. "Once we wake up, I'll tell you everything you want to know, Your Highness. Okay?"
She leaned in and pecked Feng Yao lightly on the lips. "I'm sorry, could you forgive me?"
Feng Yao gave a small nod, finally calmed. The two lay down together, she curling up in Lang Huan's arms, clinging to her like a kitten. Slowly, her hand slipped beneath Lang Huan's inner garment and brushed against the fabric wrapped around her chest.
"You're still wearing a chest wrap?" she murmured. "Don't you want to take it off? Isn't it uncomfortable?"
Lang Huan hesitated, then grinned. "I will… if you take off your bellyband too."
Smack!
Feng Yao slapped her lightly across the cheek, face flushed. "You hooligan!"
Lang Huan burst out laughing, eyes twinkling. "Alright, alright! Sleep now, Your Highness…"
Feng Yao pouted, but didn't resist when Lang Huan tightened her arms around her. Gradually, their breaths slowed and deepened, the quarrel fading into the peace of early morning.
---
Once she was sure Lang Huan had fallen asleep, Feng Yao gently slipped out of bed. She wrapped herself in her robe, walked to the mirror, and tidied her hair. After a final glance at Lang Huan's peaceful face, she stepped out of the room.
Outside, her subordinates were already assembled, standing in silence as they awaited her orders.
"Your Highness," they all greeted her in unison with a respectful bow.
They respectfully led the Eldest Princess into the room they had rented next to hers.
Inside, Qiu Yue immediately knelt down. "I beg Your Highness for forgiveness. I failed in my duty."
Feng Yao didn't speak at first. Her gaze was cold, as usual.
After a moment, Qiu Yue continued, "Shall we eliminate the Moonblade Sect, Your Highness? All preparations are complete. Just give the command."
But Feng Yao's expression didn't change. "No. Not yet," she said calmly. "They're still useful."
Then, Lin Ruochen stepped forward and opened a black mechanism box. Inside lay the sheepskin map.
Feng Yao's eyes briefly flickered with satisfaction, but she fixed Ruochen with a sharp gaze.
"Thank you, Ruochen," she said softly. "You've done well."
Lin Ruochen lowered her head nervously. Ever since she met Lang Huan, it felt like bad luck kept following her.
Truthfully, Feng Yao had sent Lin Ruochen away on a mission to keep her far from Lang Huan. Who would've thought she'd return at this exact moment?
She rubbed her temple wearily.
After receiving their instructions and giving their reports, the shadow guards bowed and quietly took their leave, leaving only Feng Yao and her most trusted attendant, A Li.
Feng Yao turned her gaze toward the black box, her expression thoughtful as her fingers gently traced the sheepskin map.
"Your Highness," A-Li asked cautiously, "will you be giving the map to the Eldest Prince?"
"No…" Feng Yao's voice was calm, almost amused. "I'll give it to my father. Let father and son fight over the treasure. Why not give them a stage to destroy each other?"
"My second brother is already dead," she murmured. "Now… it's my eldest brother's turn."
A faint, chilling smile curved her lips.