Zuo Xunxiao looked up at the man standing behind Murong Jin. He hesitated, then finally rose and gave a stiff bow. "Your Highness."
Xue Liulan nodded, his gaze fixed on Murong Jin. She was slumped over the table, her hand still wrapped around a full wine bowl.
"Zuo Xunxiao, why did you stop drinking?" she mumbled, her eyes half-closed. She took another swig. "Can't keep up with me? Hahaha, did I win again? I know you always let me win, but it still feels good."
She spoke in slurred, broken sentences. The restaurant was silent. Little Dingzi watched his master's face darken and swallowed hard. The princess consort was in for it now. For all his master's easygoing nature, a look like that, in Little Dingzi's experience, meant trouble.
As expected, Xue Liulan strode forward, grabbed Murong Jin's arm, and hauled her to her feet.
"Let go of me," she slurred, trying to wrench free. She stumbled back a few steps. "Hey… you… you look familiar."
Xue Liulan's brow was furrowed. He said nothing.
"Zuo Xunxiao," she said, turning to her friend. "Do we have a man like this in Wuchuan? I don't think I've ever seen him."
Zuo Xunxiao moved to her side. "You're drunk. Let's go home."
"Home? I don't want to. If I go home drunk, Father will scold me again," she mumbled, instinctively leaning on Zuo Xunxiao's arm. "Let's go for a ride. Clear my head."
"Murong Jin, this is not Wuchuan," Xue Liulan said, his voice cold. He grabbed her arm again, forcing her to look at him. He didn't know why, but seeing her trust Zuo Xunxiao so implicitly, watching her retreat into a memory that only the two of them shared, filled him with a sudden, sharp anger.
"Not… Wuchuan?" she repeated, staring at him warily. She tilted her head, thinking, then a slow smile spread across her face. "Ah, I remember. This is Jindu." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Right. This is Jindu. Not Wuchuan."
Watching the light in her eyes fade into a bleak emptiness, Xue Liulan pressed his lips together. He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. She just looked up at him, her eyes vacant, the distance between them as sharp as a blade.
"You've had your wine, you've had your tantrum. Isn't it time you came home with me?" he said, pulling his hand back, his voice once again cold.
She stared at him, her eyes unfocused, and finally shook her head. She turned to Zuo Xunxiao. "I want to go back to Wuchuan."
A soft, humorless laugh escaped Xue Liulan. "Did you think you could just leave?"
"Why can't I?" She whirled on him, her pride flaring. "Do you think you can stop me?"
"Don't forget. You are my princess consort, by imperial decree."
The words seemed to sober her for a moment. She froze, staring at him as if she couldn't comprehend the fact. She turned desperately to Zuo Xunxiao, seeking a denial.
He just looked away and nodded.
She stared, her eyes wide, her gaze flicking from face to face. The world began to spin. The last thing she remembered was the floor rushing up to meet her.
"Murong Jin!" Xue Liulan was faster. He caught her before she hit the ground, sweeping her up into his arms and turning to leave without another word.
Zuo Xunxiao's hand twitched, but he let it fall to his side. The Seventh Prince was right. Now was not the time. But he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
"Your Highness, a word."
Xue Liulan paused but didn't turn around. "What is it?"
"When she gets this drunk, she… she tries to forget the things that make her unhappy. If she has offended you, I ask that you do not hold it against her."
Coming to Jindu, marrying me—is that what makes her so unhappy? Xue Liulan's arms tightened around her. "Murong Jin is my wife now," he said, his voice flat and calm. "Her name is not something I suggest you use so freely in the future, General. And since she is my wife, how I treat her is my business. Not yours."
"If you have married her, then you should treat her well," Zuo Xunxiao said through gritted teeth, forgetting all decorum.
"You don't need to teach me how to care for my own wife," Xue Liulan said dismissively, and left.
Zuo Xunxiao stood frozen until their figures had vanished from sight. Then he slowly sat down and, with a roar of pure rage, swept everything from the table.
Xue Liulan, I swear I will not let you destroy her.
Xue Liulan lounged on a couch, watching Murong Jin sleep. During the period of mourning for the Crown Prince, she had to wear white and forgo all makeup and ornaments. Her face was bare, her long lashes trembling slightly against her cheeks. A single tear had escaped the corner of her eye, a faint, glistening track.
He rose and gently wiped the tear away. It was warm against his skin, almost hot. Perhaps the woman drinking from bowls at the restaurant was the real her. He couldn't imagine how much effort it had taken for her to pretend to be a docile, gentle wife these past few days.
"Cough, cough…" She stirred, murmuring, "Water… so thirsty."
"Wait here." He poured a cup and carefully helped her sit up, holding it to her lips. "Slowly."
The moment the water touched her lips, she drank it all down in one desperate gulp.
"More?" he asked softly.
"Mmm," she mumbled, her eyes still closed. "Zuo Xunxiao, do you have any Maojian tea? This Da Hong Pao is terrible."
His hand froze. He set the cup down, walked back to the bed, and hauled her into his arms.
His mouth crashed down on hers.
"Mmph!" A strangled sound of protest came from her throat. She pushed against his chest, but the more she struggled, the deeper he kissed her—a brutal, punishing conquest, leaving her no room to escape. Finally, her strength gave out, and she went limp in his arms.
He softened the kiss then, though his arms remained locked around her.
"Open your eyes," he commanded.
She did, her gaze hazy and confused. It took a long moment for her to focus on the furious eyes staring back at her.
"Xue Liulan? What are you doing here?" She remembered drinking with Zuo Xunxiao. "Where… where am I?"
"So you finally recognize me?" he snarled, releasing her. He sat down heavily on the couch. He didn't know why, but a sudden, violent rage had seized him, a desperate need to make her see who was holding her. When had he started to care?
Her head was pounding. She pushed herself up and looked around the room, finally recognizing the Fifth Prince's residence.
"This is the second time you've gotten drunk in front of me."
"I apologize. I lost my composure," she said, her head bowed. "I have brought shame upon your household. I will accept any punishment."
"The first time, you still knew who I was. You weren't completely gone, were you?" he continued, ignoring her apology. "You can't let yourself go when you drink with me. Is that it? You don't trust me enough to get truly drunk?"
She looked at him. "If I have made a mistake, then punish me."
"Why would I punish you?" he scoffed.
"I promised I would be a proper consort. I was the one who broke that promise."
He narrowed his eyes, then a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. He rose and walked toward her. "Any punishment I choose, you will accept?"
"Yes," she said, rising to meet his gaze.
His eyes dropped to her lips, still swollen from his kiss. "Murong Jin," he said, his voice low. "I want you."
"What did you say?" She looked up at him, her eyes wide.
"Do I need to repeat myself? Fine. I want you, Murong Jin. Here. Tonight." He watched, his hands behind his back, as the color rose in her cheeks, her defiant gaze finally breaking and falling to the floor. On their wedding night, he had had no intention of claiming her. Theirs was a partnership, not a marriage. But now… now he wanted all of it. Her heart, her body. He wanted her to be completely his.
She stood silently, her eyes fixed on the floor. He waited.
"Why?" she finally whispered, her voice devoid of emotion.
"You are my wife. Is that not reason enough?" he said, stepping closer and tipping her chin up with his finger.
She looked down, twisting the hem of her robe. When she looked up again, her eyes were filled with a grim resolve.
Her hands went to the sash at her waist. Slowly, she untied the knot. The plain white outer robe slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.
Xue Liulan watched her, his gaze unwavering. He saw the single, glistening tear that escaped her closed eye.
"You look reluctant," he said, his voice a soft, cruel whisper. "Then why bother?"
She opened her eyes. Her face gave nothing away. "Because you demanded it."
"Only because I demanded it?" He leaned in, his face just inches from hers.
"I told you," she said, her voice barely audible. "I will accept my punishment."