CHAPTER THIRTY‑FOUR — AN AMBIGUOUS DISTANCE
Tang Ke Xin's entire body trembled. Had she not been leaning against the tree trunk, she might very well have collapsed. The moment she realised he was staring directly at her—unblinking, unmoving, unreadable—her heart lurched violently.
He did not turn away.
He did not leave.
He simply watched her.
She had no choice but to straighten her spine, gather what remained of her dignity, and walk towards him.
"This humble girl pays her respects to the Third Prince."
Her voice was steady, though her pulse was anything but.
"We pay our respects to the Third Prince," echoed the two concubines who had moments earlier been clawing at each other like wildcats. At the sight of Ye Lan Jue, they instantly transformed into meek lambs.
Ye Lan Jue did not acknowledge them.
He did not even glance in their direction.
His gaze remained fixed—cold and unwavering—upon Tang Ke Xin.
Her scalp tingled. Her palms grew damp. She felt as though she were being pinned in place by a predator's eyes.
Attempting to salvage the atmosphere, she forced a bright, cheerful tone.
"What a coincidence, Your Highness. Out for a morning stroll?"
A morning stroll?
It was nearly noon.
The concubines' lips twitched violently.
Was she mad?
Ye Lan Jue, however, did not respond. His expression remained utterly unreadable, his gaze so indifferent it chilled the air around them.
Sensing danger, the concubines bowed again and fled with impressive speed.
Within moments, the courtyard was empty—save for Tang Ke Xin and the Third Prince.
"This humble girl… will take her leave as well," she ventured cautiously.
She knew the likelihood of him allowing her to leave was slim, but life was about attempting the impossible. Even if most attempts ended in disaster.
Ye Lan Jue still said nothing. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching her with unnerving intensity.
Tang Ke Xin blinked, then—very carefully—shifted her foot.
"Do you believe," he said suddenly, his voice low and icy, "that this king will cripple your foot?"
The threat was quiet, almost gentle.
It froze her blood more effectively than a shout.
Her foot snapped back to its original position.
She swallowed, lifted her head, and attempted to compose herself.
"Your Highness, we bear no enmity. There is no grievance between us. This… this seems rather excessive, does it not?"
Why cripple her foot?
What hatred?
What vendetta?
But she dared not move. She lowered her head and stood obediently, transforming herself into the picture of meekness.
"The two noble ladies nearly tore each other apart in the imperial courtyard," Ye Lan Jue said at last, his voice deep and edged with something unreadable. "Quite the spectacle."
"I did nothing," Tang Ke Xin protested weakly. "I merely… spoke."
She truly had no idea when he had arrived. She prided herself on her vigilance, yet she had not sensed him at all. Perhaps he had only just come. Perhaps he had not heard—
"This king finds," he said slowly, "that you possess considerable courage."
The cold amusement in his tone made her stomach drop.
Was he merely commenting?
Or was he hinting at something more?
Her mind flickered back to that night at the temple.
The man in the darkness.
The bite on her shoulder.
Could it have been him?
She prayed it was not.
This man was far too dangerous.
"Did the Emperor truly check your name last night?" he asked abruptly.
Tang Ke Xin froze.
Of course not. She had invented the entire story.
She lowered her head, feigning ignorance.
But his next words shattered any hope she had left.
"You lied to the Emperor," he said softly. "And you lied to me. Tell me—how many heads do you have?"
He had seen everything.
There was no point pretending.
Tang Ke Xin inhaled deeply. If she was to survive this, sincerity was her only weapon.
"One," she replied, lifting her head with wide, innocent eyes. "Unless… Your Highness believes I have more?"
Her smile was bright—too bright.
Ye Lan Jue's eyes flashed.
This time, the smirk on his lips was unmistakable.
This woman…
Even now, she could smile.
And smile so dazzlingly.
He said nothing, simply stared at her in silence.
His expression was no longer as cold as before, but that did not comfort her in the slightest.
"It is unbearably hot," Tang Ke Xin said, attempting once more to escape. "Why don't we move to the shade?"
She lifted her foot—
His gaze snapped to it like a blade.
She froze instantly.
She coughed lightly and withdrew her foot.
Then, stubbornly, she tried stepping back.
Again, that icy gaze pinned her in place.
"Forward is forbidden, backward is forbidden… may I move to the side?" she muttered under her breath, nearly in tears.
Under his oppressive stare, she found herself retreating without meaning to.
"Try moving again," he said softly.
It was a threat.
But there was something else beneath it—something she could not decipher.
Her temper flared.
What could he possibly do to her here?
They were in the palace.
On a public path.
The Empress was her protector.
She had a backer.
She lifted her foot—
And suddenly, his hand closed around her shoulder.
Before she could gasp, he pulled her forward.
So close.
Far too close.
His hand rested precisely on the spot where she had been bitten days ago. Whether coincidence or intention, she could not tell.
Her breath caught.
She was almost in his arms.
Her head tilted up.
His head angled down.
The distance between them—
barely a breath.
If he lowered his head even slightly,
or if she moved even a fraction—
Their lips would meet.
The world seemed to still.
The air thickened.
And Tang Ke Xin realised, with a jolt of terror, that she had never been this close to danger in her life.