CHAPTER TWENTY‑THREE — MARRIAGE
"Young Master Mu, for what reason do you seek Xin'er?"
The Prime Minister was the first to step out of the residence, determined to handle the matter personally. The memory of his daughter releasing wolfdogs upon Mu Shaoyi still throbbed behind his temples like an oncoming migraine.
"I only want her to hand over the antidote to cure Yue'er's poison," Mu Shaoyi replied stiffly. He had not expected the Prime Minister to appear—nor the Third and Fourth Princes to follow behind him. The sight of them forced him to swallow his anger and stand straighter.
"You can poison people?"
Ye Lan Chen's eyes snapped toward Tang Ke Xin, alight with the excitement of a child discovering a new toy.
The Prime Minister's face drained of colour.
"Xin'er? Poison someone? Young Master Mu, surely you are mistaken?"
"I saw it with my own eyes," Mu Shaoyi insisted. "If the Prime Minister doubts me, he may ask her himself."
When his gaze shifted to Tang Ke Xin, the fury in his eyes wavered, replaced by something far more complicated.
"Xin'er… is this true?"
The Prime Minister suddenly felt decades older. Too much had happened in a single day—far more than his heart was prepared to endure.
Ye Lan Jue's gaze rested upon her, cool and unreadable. His lips curved faintly, a smile that was not a smile, a look that seemed to peel back every layer of her composure. Under that gaze, Tang Ke Xin felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine.
But she could only bite the bullet and feign innocence.
"Master Hui Yuan gave it to me for self‑defence," she said softly. "I do not possess the antidote."
"So it was Master Hui Yuan," Mu Shaoyi murmured, immediately accepting the explanation. In his mind, even if Tang Ke Xin had changed, she could not possibly create such a potent poison herself.
"Oh, that makes sense," Ye Lan Chen chimed in, nodding vigorously.
"So that is the truth," the Prime Minister echoed, relief washing over him.
As for the Third Prince—no one could tell whether he believed a single word. Ye Lan Jue merely withdrew his gaze, his expression returning to its usual ethereal calm. His silence was more unnerving than any accusation.
Tang Ke Xin's heart tightened.
"Young Master Mu," the Prime Minister said, his tone darkening, "Xin'er has made it clear she has no antidote. If you wish to save Miss Liu, you must seek another method."
His meaning was unmistakable:
If Liu Ruyue was poisoned, she likely brought it upon herself.
Mu Shaoyi understood perfectly. His expression soured. He looked at Tang Ke Xin, hoping—perhaps even expecting—her to speak.
But she did not spare him a single glance.
His face darkened further. At last, realising there was nothing more to be gained, he turned and left.
Ye Lan Chen let out a low whistle.
"Well, this is certainly different. In the past, the moment you saw Mu Shaoyi, you were like a mosquito scenting blood. How is it you can ignore him now?"
Tang Ke Xin said nothing. She had no desire to revisit that humiliating past.
"This king knows you are infatuated with him," Ye Lan Chen continued cheerfully, "and that you would do anything to marry him. So naturally, you were acting just now. But I must say—your performance was excellent. Did you see Mu Shaoyi's conflicted expression?"
Tang Ke Xin's mouth twitched.
If only he knew how wrong he was.
"I feel," Ye Lan Chen went on, eyes brightening with mischief, "that if you brought up marriage now, Mu Shaoyi might actually agree. Or—better yet—when we enter the palace later, I can ask Mother to issue a decree and marry the two of you directly."
Tang Ke Xin's eyelids twitched violently.
Marry Mu Shaoyi?
"Xin'er?"
The Prime Minister turned to her, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern.
And beside him, Ye Lan Jue's serene, star‑bright eyes grew colder—so cold that the air itself seemed to still.