The Xiongnu Chanyu was short—about an inch shorter than Meng Xizhao. His body looked strong, but age had left his skin loose and slightly shriveled. His face wasn’t friendly; in fact, it carried several harsh expressions, making him resemble one of those cantankerous old men who liked to stir up trouble for no reason.
At this moment, the old man stared at Meng Xizhao in utter confusion, not understanding what he meant.
Luckily, Meng Xizhao was considerate. He turned and called back, “Why so slow? Bring him over quickly so the Chanyu can see.”
Just then, three attendants carried a struggling, wailing man toward them.
Several minutes had passed, and the man’s blood flowed freely, covering him in a deep red, making him look pitifully miserable.
The Chanyu had yet to speak, but the eldest prince exploded with rage. In a flash, he drew the sword from behind him. “How dare you harm the palace guards?!”
He swung the sword toward Meng Xizhao.
But the prince wasn’t stupid.
No matter how they looked down on the Daqi Crown Prince, he could not be touched. And the attendants were too low in rank to intervene effectively. The person who could be struck to make a point was Meng Xizhao—standing arrogantly close to the Crown Prince—an ideal target to instill fear without causing a diplomatic incident.
The eldest prince had already learned from the Left Xian Wang: the highest-ranking officials in the escort party were the sword-bearing general and a plump ceremonial official. Meng Xizhao, barely a sixth-rank official, was in solely because of his influential father and knack for flattery. People like him had no real skills beyond bootlicking. Killing him would anger the Daqi, but not enough to demand vengeance.
Just as the sword was about to fall on Meng Xizhao’s head, a metallic clang rang out—the blade had been stopped by another.
The eldest prince’s eyes widened. He pressed down with all his strength, using the full power he prided himself on, but it was as if his strength didn’t exist. The blade didn’t budge an inch.
He looked up, astonished, at the person before him.
Zhan Buxiu was standing in front of Meng Xizhao, showing no respect, his gaze deadly.
Among peers, one can sense another’s presence—suddenly, the eldest prince realized he was facing a formidable opponent.
The fallen guard shocked the Xiongnu, but what stunned them even more was that their first warrior—the eldest prince—was now locked in a stalemate with a Daqi attendant.
The eldest prince, though thirty and used to defeating anyone in the world, could not afford to lose face. He pressed down, veins in his neck straining red.
Zhan Buxiu was not at ease either. The prince’s strength was immense; he could hold him off but could not advance further. Maintaining a calm expression, he was already working hard.
Then, suddenly, the prince’s sword wavered.
A small notch appeared where the blades collided. The prince’s pupils contracted. Zhan Buxiu seized the moment, exploiting his distraction, and sharply lifted the sword, forcing the prince’s blade aside.
The notch widened into a crack from the force. The prince’s body tilted backward, anchored by his strong stance, barely avoiding a stumble.
Staring at his cracked sword, he was dumbfounded.
This blade had been purchased at great cost from the Yuezhi. Their steel craftsmanship rivaled Daqi’s. The Yuezhi had even brought artisans from the Central Plains to learn, perfecting the art. The craftsman had sworn no blade in the world could be sharper than this…
Meng Xizhao lifted his eyelids slightly, scanning the dead-silent scene ahead, then silently slid a step to the side behind Cui Ye.
Just moments ago, Cui Ye had reflexively pulled him behind himself, which had left Meng Xizhao feeling frustrated. Why pull him? The ideal would have been to stand there calmly, unflinching in the face of a flying blade, exuding effortless composure… that’s real style.
Still, the scene was undeniably terrifying. Meng Xizhao was confident he could endure it, but less confident that his heart wouldn’t be hammering uncontrollably afterward.
Taking advantage of everyone’s distraction, he stepped back beside Cui Ye, creating the illusion that he had simply been standing there the whole time. Then, abruptly, he spoke.
“You scared me to death.”
Everyone froze, staring at the sudden voice. Meng Xizhao’s face was calm, and he touched his chest lightly, half-casually: “I thought… today might be the day I die here.”
The Daqi envoys: “……”
The Xiongnu: “……”
Sighing, Meng Xizhao raised a hand and waved gently to the side. Immediately, Zhan Buxiu—who had seemed ready to devour someone a moment ago—obediently stepped back, sheath sliding closed. He didn’t retreat far, still standing near Meng Xizhao and the Crown Prince, eyes fixed on the Xiongnu ahead.
Meng Xizhao stepped forward a couple of paces and looked at the broken sword in Huriqia’s hand. He seemed even more pained than Huriqia.
“Look at this,” he said. “A perfectly good sword, just snapped. Your Highness the Eldest Prince, hear me out: the Xiongnu are Daqi’s allies. I, as an envoy of Daqi and subject of His Highness the Crown Prince, could never deliberately start a conflict—let alone damage your guards like this. It was your guard, that foolish, short-sighted dog, acting behind the Chanyu and the Eldest Prince, who had the audacity to try and cause trouble for us Daqi people.”
The Eldest Prince slowly looked at him, unable to utter a word.
Meng Xizhao continued, sincerity painted on his face: “This brainless fool—small picture, he’s faithless, betraying the Chanyu’s trust by neglecting his duties; big picture, he’s scheming, attempting to sabotage peace between our nations. For the sake of friendship, our Princess of Chu traveled a thousand miles to the Xiongnu, suffering countless hardships! Envoys from both nations have been tirelessly involved. Such a grand event, one that should be sung through the ages, and now ruined by this stinking idiot? Impossible!”
The Xiongnu: “……”
They glanced at the guard sprawled on the ground, then back at Meng Xizhao, still speaking without pause.
Meng Xizhao turned to the Chanyu: “So! For the sake of this hard-won marital alliance between our nations, we had no choice but to bypass the guard and enter the palace. Not for anything else, but to report this to you immediately! Among your people, such a weak-minded, narrow-sighted fool appeared. Out of respect for you, we could not waste a single moment!”
He sighed, gesturing toward the sky: “When entering, weapons are blind, and this guard foolishly stood in the way, unaware of how to avoid it. That’s why it ended up like this.”
Pausing, he looked into the distance with a somber expression. “This must be what they mean by: good is rewarded, evil punished…”
The Xiongnu: “…………”
The Eldest Prince, being called weak-minded in such a roundabout way: “…………”
The Daqi envoys, too cautious to intervene, stared blankly at Meng Xizhao’s smooth manipulation: “…………”
Meng Shaoqing, you hide your cleverness well.
We thought you’d only hassle your own people… but you even dare to mess with the Xiongnu!
…
The small guard had been injured, but the Chanyu didn’t mind. What frustrated him now was that Huriqia had tried to give the Daqi a lesson at the palace gates—he’d planned it, then reported it to the Chanyu. The Chanyu had initially thought it a good plan. But now, the punishment backfired, and this little Daqi official was twisting the situation with his clever, sarcastic words. The Chanyu was furious—entirely Huriqia’s fault for acting without judgment and causing him such embarrassment.
His expression darkened. The old Chanyu’s face instantly resembled a cartoon villain. With a swift motion, he drew a whip from his waist and struck the guard, who had been babbling in Xiongnu.
He shouted something in Xiongnu—likely not polite words—because the guard immediately fell silent. Even trembling under the lashes, he dared not utter a sound.
After finishing, the Chanyu turned, and the whip struck the Eldest Prince.
Being his own son, the old Chanyu was angry but not reckless—he avoided the face, striking only the shoulder. That alone was painful.
Huriqia’s expression twisted. He knelt slightly, speaking a few words to the old Chanyu.
Meng Xizhao watched; it seemed to mean, “Father, calm your anger.”
He remained unmoved, silently vigilant.
No wonder Captain Jin had said the old Chanyu always seemed worried… He really lashes out! Even to his own son, he’s this harsh—so how much harsher to others?
The Chanyu’s mind was erratic, but the nobles behind him were aware. Even with all the Daqi envoys present, they could not let the Eldest Prince lose face. They all urged the old Chanyu to calm down.
Meng Xizhao noticed the man speaking most persuasively, dressed similarly to the Left Xian Wang: the Right Xian Wang.
He immediately identified him.
This was the Eldest Prince Huriqia’s supporter. The Right Xian Wang had helped Huriqia secure the Chanyu’s position. After Huriqia became the new Chanyu, the Right Xian Wang was replaced; where he went, the text didn’t say, and Meng Xizhao couldn’t judge.
After just a few words, the Xiongnu managed to calm the furious Chanyu. The Right Xian Wang then stepped forward, smiling at Meng Xizhao and the others.
“Didn’t expect such an incident. You’ve traveled so far, only to witness a mishap—our apologies. But what kind of weapon could wound our Xiongnu guard like this? And the palace gates… you did this too?”
Meng Xizhao glanced at him but didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Cui Ye.
Cui Ye, noticing him, immediately understood.
He carried himself with the noble, dignified air of a crown prince, chin slightly raised, expression tinged with displeasure. “In this freezing weather, do you intend to entertain me right here in the middle of the road?”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
Having known Cui Ye for half a year, this was the first time he had heard him refer to himself as “the Crown Prince.”
What’s going on? It… actually looks a little handsome.
The Right Xian Wang, seeing that the Daqi Crown Prince remained silent but was now forcibly changing the subject, realized at once that this weapon must hold unusual significance for Daqi.
He offered a polite smile and, imitating the Central Plains customs, made a gesture of invitation.
Only then did the Daqi party finally take their proper place as official guests.
The Xiongnu palace had its own great hall, with seats already prepared. The Chanyu sat on his throne, still fuming, while the Crown Prince strode arrogantly to the foremost seat—originally meant for the Eldest Prince.
Meng Xizhao admired him deeply.
Honestly, even he wouldn’t dare make such a blatant move himself.
After all, he valued his life. If he provoked too much, the Eldest Prince could have killed him on the spot in a fit of rage.
But Cui Ye’s action was correct. They were already on edge with each other, and the old Chanyu had just lashed the Eldest Prince. If they now acted politely, the Xiongnu, nursing both old and new grudges, would likely retaliate even more fiercely, forgetting diplomacy entirely in their urge to reclaim face.
Better to project a strong, imposing presence, leaving them conflicted and hesitant to act rashly.
Without asking, the Crown Prince took the Eldest Prince’s seat. The others quietly went to find their own places. Meng Xizhao lined up as well, waiting until the ritual officer sat down before taking his own seat. Suddenly, the Crown Prince flicked an eyebrow and called him over.
“Meng Shaoqing, come. Serve the dishes for me.”
Meng Xizhao immediately obeyed, theatrically arranging the utensils on the table, then took his rightful place beside him.
The Eldest Prince, though struck with a whip, remained seated across from them, eyes dark and brooding.
By now, it seemed the Eldest Prince’s patience had been exhausted.
Meng Xizhao bore the knife-like gaze without flinching.
Even in times of peace, the Eldest Prince would challenge Daqi whenever he felt like it; now, as an enemy, he posed no greater threat.
Moreover, Meng Xizhao knew that even if he accomplished nothing this time, he had to unseat the Eldest Prince—perhaps even by administering a sudden-death potion to Teng Kangning if necessary.
This man alive was Daqi’s greatest threat. Should he become Chanyu, Daqi would never know peace.
The Eldest Prince could never guess that, in Meng Xizhao’s eyes, he had already been marked as a mortal enemy. No matter how intimidating his gaze, Meng Xizhao would not care.
The other Xiongnu were also angry. Wasn’t it humiliating that the Eldest Prince had been bested? But with the Chanyu in a rage, they dared not act. Only after what the Daqi saw as a wildly improper welcoming banquet began would they attempt their own subtle moves.
Another high-ranking Xiongnu official, the Grand Commander, asked Cui Ye with a sly smile, “May I ask the name of the brave warrior by the side of the Daqi Crown Prince?”
Cui Ye didn’t respond immediately. He took the wine cup Meng Xizhao offered, sipped lightly, then grimaced as if to say, “Can one even drink this?”
Grand Commander: “……”
Daqi people, do you want to die?!
Finally, Cui Ye lifted his head, voice calm: “Which warrior do you mean?”
The Grand Commander, suppressing his irritation, said, “The one who just sparred with our Eldest Prince.”
Meng Xizhao: Shameless.
Sparred? That was nothing but arrogance backfiring.
Cui Ye glanced behind him. His guards had no seats, only standing. He had brought few people today: three were his own guards, and the last was Zhan Buxiu, slipped in by Meng Xizhao.
His gaze swept over Zhan Buxiu, expression unreadable, before returning to Meng Xizhao. “Do you know his name?”
Meng Xizhao hurriedly replied, “He’s Zhan Buxiu, a commander under General Ding.”
Cui Ye genuinely didn’t know Zhan Buxiu’s name. He only knew Meng Xizhao had recently been employing him as an aide. Pausing, he looked puzzled:
“His surname is… Zhān?”
Realizing, he asked again: “Just a commander? Why not have General Ding himself come?”
Meng Xizhao sighed. “Your Highness, we are guests. Having General Ding enter the palace would leave a bad impression on our hosts.”
Grand Commander: “……”
Listening to their exchange, the Grand Commander was shocked. The Eldest Prince had been bested, yet the Daqi Crown Prince didn’t even know this man’s name?! And by the Crown Prince’s tone, this warrior’s skill was only so-so. He felt that General Ding would be a more fitting figure.
Surname Ding? Ding Chun?
As Grand Commander of the Xiongnu, he could command all forces in the Chanyu’s court, disregarding the other two courts. Naturally, he cared about the abilities of foreign generals. He had heard of Ding Chun, but wasn’t he just defeated by the Nanzhao?
He had previously dismissed Ding Chun, even skeptical of Daqi’s boasts about him, but now… he was no longer so sure.
Left Xian Wang, sipping his wine, also watched Meng Xizhao and Cui Ye.
He thought to himself: I’ve still underestimated the cunning of the Daqi people.
On the journey to deliver the bride, the usually low-profile Daqi Crown Prince—so unobtrusive he seemed almost nonexistent—smiled slightly at everyone he met, giving the impression of a good-natured prince. Yet upon entering Xiongnu territory, he assumed an entirely different demeanor. No one could tell whether his previous behavior had been an act, or if this was, or perhaps, whether he was always acting, regardless of when.
Meng Xizhao, for his part, shed all pretense of a frivolous nobleman and devoted himself entirely to supporting the Crown Prince. They did not fear the Xiongnu; in fact, they had the audacity to trample on the Xiongnu’s pride.
In an instant, Left Xian Wang felt a similar impression as Meng Xizhao.
This man held a high position, came from an influential family, enjoyed the favor of both the Daqi Emperor and the Crown Prince, and, most dangerously, was intelligent—knowing exactly what to do at the right moment. Even before entering Xiongnu territory, he had been finding ways to interact with him, and now that he was here, who knew what he might do next…
If this man were allowed to grow, he could easily become a serious threat to Xiongnu interests.
Better to eliminate him here and now—to prevent future trouble!
…
Meng Xizhao instinctively sensed the danger. He turned his head but saw only Left Xian Wang lowering his gaze and taking another sip of wine.
Blinking, Meng Xizhao turned his head back.
Originally, the Xiongnu had prepared several performances intended to mock the Daqi guests. But having been preempted, they ended up being the ones laughed at. The original performances were canceled, leaving only ordinary songs and dances. Unfortunately, the Daqi party preferred gentle, delicate dances rather than these primitive, tension-filled performances.
Their interest waned, and the Xiongnu, watching, grew angrier.
They wanted to kill someone.
How infuriating! Facing our cultural treasures, you’re all nearly asleep!
Seeing this, Right Xian Wang realized today’s events were going poorly and decided to postpone the discussion about the price increase.
Instead, he focused on the wedding, which the old Chanyu enjoyed hearing about. He liked watching his subordinates arrange weddings, which reminded him of forty years ago, when he first married Lady Yan.
At this point, Cui Ye’s matters were no longer an issue. The ceremonial officials were negotiating with the Xiongnu, who wanted a grand ceremony according to their customs. The Daqi officials insisted on including Han traditions as well.
The ceremonial officer, initially intimidated by the Xiongnu, had accompanied the Crown Prince and Meng Shaoqing today and suddenly realized they weren’t so fearsome. He now argued with them confidently, while Zang He, quiet and unassuming, possessed a sharp tongue that left several Xiongnu officials speechless.
After nearly two hours in the palace, the Daqi party prepared to depart. Originally, the Eldest Prince would have escorted them out, but restraining his desire to strike them had already been difficult. Thus, Right Xian Wang took on the task.
Upon hearing this, Meng Xizhao feigned surprise, then instinctively glanced toward Left Xian Wang and Grand Commander Jin.
Left Xian Wang: “……”
What are you looking at? I don’t know you.
But the others did not think so. The remaining nobles frowned inwardly.
The Daqi were so brazen, giving no respect to the Xiongnu, yet they were willing to show courtesy to Left Xian Wang. Clearly, this bridal mission had been handled well by him.
Before they could dwell further on this, the Daqi party had already departed. Meng Xizhao, less brash than that morning, chatted amiably with the Right Xian Wang, who was trying to make connections.
Returning to the palace gates, a few Xiongnu were filling in holes in the wall.
While doing so, they worried about how to repair the blown-open gate—such a large gap.
Previously, Right Xian Wang had only glanced from afar. Seeing the damage up close, his brows furrowed.
Meng Xizhao, noticing him staring silently at the gate, offered a wry smile. “We were indeed a bit hasty. That guard was infuriating, and we feared being late would make the Chanyu think we were disrespectful. So we resorted to this extreme measure. I hope, Your Highness, that when you return, you might say a good word for us before the Chanyu. As for the gate, don’t worry. When we return, we’ll bring fine timber to craft two new doors—consider it a gift from us to the Xiongnu.”
Right Xian Wang: “……”
You mean we’ll have to look at this broken gate for months?
He smiled faintly. “No need. It’s just a door. The Jurchens have plenty of fine timber; have them send it.”
Indeed, the Greater Khingan lies in the Jurchen lands—they have abundant good materials.
Right Xian Wang’s remark was also a subtle warning: the Xiongnu are strong, and their neighbors, the Yuezhi and Jurchens, are their allies. Today you merely got lucky; don’t think the Xiongnu will fear you.
Meng Xizhao paused, then smiled in relief. “Good enough.”
Right Xian Wang returned, and the Daqi party went back to their inn. With the doors closed, no outsiders were present, and many could no longer suppress their smiles.
Regardless of the Crown Prince still being present, they looked at Meng Xizhao with admiration. “Meng Shaoqing, you are truly Daqi’s hero!”
“And Commander Zhan as well—he was incredible today!”
“Let’s see if those Xiongnu dare to look down on us again! Hahaha!”
Cui Ye, seeing their excitement, smiled. “Alright, remember, this is still Xiongnu territory. Do not show your emotions—understood?”
Everyone nodded repeatedly.
Understood! Understood! We’ll retreat and enjoy this in private!
The Crown Prince went upstairs. Meng Xizhao blinked, watching him leave. Even though he hadn’t been called, he felt it best to go and report briefly.
So he followed, and under the admiring gazes of the other guards, pushed open the door and entered.
After closing the door, Meng Xizhao turned and watched Cui Ye sit down. He then lifted his gaze silently, meeting Meng Xizhao’s eyes.
First, Meng Xizhao smiled boldly, then walked over and sat across from Cui Ye, like a child worried about angering a parent, obediently settling into his seat.
Seeing him ready to be questioned, Cui Ye felt a pang of irritation.
He asked first, “What’s the situation with that weapon?”
Meng Xizhao answered honestly, “A while back, when I was studying military strategy for His Majesty, I came across a book that mentioned a weapon of tremendous power called ‘Lei.’ I thought perhaps it really existed, so I ordered some research. I didn’t expect it would actually be produced.”
Cui Ye laughed outright. “You didn’t expect it?”
Meng Xizhao’s eyes flicked up, brows furrowing. “Your Highness, why are you calling me by name again?”
Cui Ye: “……”
He hurried to explain. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just—”
Better not, Cui Ye swallowed the rest and simply said, “Do not take offense, Erlang.”
Only then did Meng Xizhao smile again. “Your Highness, I’m no immortal. Of course, there are many things I cannot foresee. Just like before, I never imagined that the young gentleman I chanced upon would turn out to be the Crown Prince of Daqi. And much of what I did then—I held no great expectations. It was just a matter of trying; it didn’t cost anything, after all.”
“The thing Commander Zhan threw today, called a hand-‘Lei,’ I never expected the craftsmen would actually produce it, and its power matches exactly what the book described. And Your Highness, did you see the hand-blade Zhan used today? That too was crafted by accident—through trial and error they produced a remarkably strong steel, even tougher than forged steel. I am preparing these so that, once we return to Daqi, I can present them all to His Majesty.”
Cui Ye stared silently at him.
Meng Xizhao appeared calm, but inside he was restless.
No way… Cui Ye isn’t going to think all of this was my own research, is he?
Just as he was about to say more to dispel Cui Ye’s suspicion, Cui Ye suddenly asked, “What’s your relationship with Zhan Buxiu? Why are you sending him these things?”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
That was a tricky angle. He hadn’t prepared an answer.
Seeing him hesitate and stay silent, Cui Ye felt a tightening in his chest.
Why isn’t he speaking? Who exactly is this Zhan Buxiu?
Meng Xizhao pressed his lips together, thinking: once we return to Daqi, Zhan Buxiu’s identity will be revealed anyway. Telling him now wouldn’t be a problem.
But he didn’t want to answer immediately. What the heck? He had even caught a hint of reproach in Cui Ye’s tone. Don’t think people of the Meng family forget grudges. Before, you wanted to sever ties with me; now you’re meddling again? This shift is too fast.
Feeling annoyed, he let it show a little, pouting instinctively. His tone carried a subtle edge: “So Your Highness actually cares about my relations with others?”
“I thought Your Highness had decided on a ‘neither close nor distant’ approach with me, tacitly agreeing that we wouldn’t interfere with each other’s public lives.”
Cui Ye: “……”
He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination.
Why did Meng Xizhao seem even more petty than his unscrupulous father? So much time had passed, they’d reconciled… why dredge up old grievances?
Slightly exasperated yet amused, he said, “Erlang, if you keep this up, I’ll start calling you ‘Second Mother.’”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
He shot up, his small annoyance instantly magnified into a mountain of displeasure. Just as he was about to throw a tantrum, Cui Ye quickly said, “What happened before is my fault. I hope Erlang has a generous heart and won’t dwell on it.”
Meng Xizhao paused, then straightened and relaxed.
Cui Ye sighed in relief, continuing with a headache-inducing explanation: “Everything Erlang has shown me is a weapon any country would fight over. I feared you might trust the wrong people…”
Meng Xizhao shot him a glance, thinking: your actions don’t quite match your words.
Just now, you looked like a schoolboy ready to righteously question why I gave all the good things to someone else.
…
After a moment, Meng Xizhao replied, “Your Highness need not worry. This person’s character is impeccable.”
Then he dropped the suspense: “Zhan Buxiu is the only son of General Zhan Shenyou.”
Cui Ye processed this for a second, then his eyes widened in shock.
The two conversed in the room, unnoticed outside.
Today, Meng Shaoqing had shone brilliantly, revealing that he was not only a noble playboy, but one skilled in social tact—knowing what to say to humans, what to say to spirits. He neither embarrassed the Xiongnu nor angered them. His timing and execution were precise.
Not just the Crown Prince, even the others wanted to speak with Meng Xizhao properly, curious how he managed it.
Inside the inn, all was calm. No one noticed that a few guards were missing, nor the Crown Prince’s attendant Yu Dutou.
At that moment, Yu Dutou was shivering in the Xiongnu cold.
Meng Xizhao really knew how to assign tasks!
From last night until tonight, he had kept watch outside the new palace of the Chu Princess, not daring to leave for even a moment.
Meng Xizhao said that when he went to inspect the new palace, he noticed some irregularities. The Xiongnu were ambitious and unwilling to marry the princess; things could go badly for her. Thus, he hoped Yu Fulan would come over to guard the princess for a few days.
Yu Fulan remained silent.
He was the Crown Prince’s man, not the Chu Princess’s. The princess’s side was unsafe, so someone would normally summon her head attendant—but Meng Xizhao insisted that Yu Fulan keep watch himself. Since Meng Xizhao was a favored aide of the Crown Prince, Yu Fulan naturally could not refuse.
Alongside two other guards, he silently kept his eyes on the nearby new palace. Cold and sleepy, he longed desperately for the warmth of Daqi.
Just as he struggled to stifle a yawn, he suddenly noticed two maidservants walking out of the palace gates.
Yu Fulan was puzzled. At this hour, where could they be going?
Inside the inn, Meng Xizhao was telling Cui Ye about how he had first met Zhan Buxiu. When he mentioned that Zhan had actually gone to him carrying a hammer, Cui Ye froze, and a flash of anger crossed his face.
“What audacity.”
Meng Xizhao didn’t think much of it. “After all, he assumed I would do something improper toward his sister. Put yourself in my place—if someone treated my sister that way, I would be furious enough to want to kill them myself.”
Cui Ye stayed silent.
This was one of his blind spots. The Cui family was large and prosperous, yet the bonds between siblings were barely stronger than with strangers. He had countless brothers and sisters, yet could not understand this most basic kinship.
Just then, the door was knocked. Yu Fulan’s voice came from outside: “Your Highness, may I come in?”
Meng Xizhao blinked. He glanced at Cui Ye and, after receiving a nod of approval, went to open the door.
Outside stood not just Yu Fulan, but two maidservants bundled in thick layers.
Without a word, Meng Xizhao ushered the two maidservants inside, swiftly turned, closed the door, and even bolted it.
Meng Xizhao paused, then turned to look at the two maidservants.
The Crown Prince also noticed something. Frowning, he rose and walked toward the two maidservants.
One of them trembled, unsure if from cold or fear, while the other kept her head bowed, refusing to look at anyone.
Cui Ye stared at her for a moment before speaking. “Cui Yongsan, how foolish are you?”
Cui Yongsan—that was the name of the Chu Princess.
Biting her lip, she realized that she had lost any chance. With a look of anger, she finally lifted her head. “I only wanted to save myself! What’s wrong with that?”
Save herself?
To Cui Ye, her actions were little different from courting death.
He didn’t know how she had gotten out of the palace, but in no more than an hour someone would notice the princess was missing. This was Xiongnu territory, and they knew it best. A single woman in freezing weather—how could she know where to hide? If she didn’t hide, could she outrun mounted soldiers on her own two legs?
Moreover, by fleeing her arranged marriage, if she were caught, she would lose even the last scrap of leverage. The Chanyu would no longer respect her and might even treat her as a servant. Why had the eldest princess of Shang Kingdom died just two years after her marriage to Xia Kingdom? One reason was her own mood, but the other was the Xia Kingdom knew she disliked them, so they intentionally ignored her, letting her fend for herself.
Though she was his sister, Cui Ye had never treated the Chu Princess as family. He had no affection for her, nor any hatred. He simply watched in silence, unmoved by her frustration.
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
And yet you still dream of a future wife?
Which woman would be unlucky enough to marry you? She’d be so annoyed in the first year of marriage that she’d probably end up with breast ailments.
After a moment, Meng Xizhao stepped forward to smooth things over. “Your Highness, perhaps I should speak with the princess.”
Cui Ye looked at him oddly. Meng Xizhao met his gaze, unwavering.
Cui Ye didn’t feel like handling it himself. The Cui children each minded their own business; no one was luckier than the other.
“Fine. Take her to your room.”