CHAPTER 62 — A PROPOSAL, A WARNING, A CLAIM, AND A DEADLY TEA
"If your heart has forgotten, allow me to remind you," Nangong Yi said smoothly, leaning forward with a smile that was far too pleased with itself. "At that time, you told me—most tenderly—that you would cancel your engagement to Mu Shaoyi. You said that when I came to marry you, you would be waiting. I have never forgotten that moment."
Before Tang Ke Xin could even open her mouth, he continued,
"My heart may rest easy. I have come to the capital for you. After this, I shall go directly to the Prime Minister's Estate to propose marriage."
Tang Ke Xin felt her breath catch.
Yes, she had said those words—but only to frighten him away. She had assumed that once he fled the carriage in terror, the matter would be forgotten forever. Who would have imagined that this man would return, clinging to her words as though they were a sacred vow?
Across the table, the Third Prince's eyes darkened once more.
He knew Nangong Yi well enough to distrust half of what he said. Yet Tang Ke Xin's startled reaction told him that, this time, Nangong Yi might indeed be speaking the truth.
Had she truly told Nangong Yi she would break her engagement… and wait for him to marry her?
Ye Lan Jue knew she had never met Nangong Yi before. The only time she could have spoken such words was during the temple incident—when she had suddenly recovered her wits.
After returning from the temple, she had immediately sought to end her engagement with Mu Shaoyi.
Ye Lan Jue's gaze deepened.
This girl… she actually…
"Heart, shall I go to the Prime Minister's Estate now to propose marriage?" Nangong Yi asked brightly, his voice bubbling with joy.
"All right," Tang Ke Xin replied with a faint, almost careless smile.
Ye Lan Jue's hand tightened around his teacup. His eyes, already cold, grew colder still.
Nangong Yi blinked, taken aback by her easy agreement.
"My father should be home by now," Tang Ke Xin added helpfully.
She knew perfectly well that Nangong Yi was stirring trouble on purpose. But if he truly wished to go, she doubted he would follow through. She did not believe he genuinely intended to marry her.
And even if he did go to the Prime Minister's Estate, it would change nothing. Her engagement to Mu Shaoyi had not yet been annulled. More importantly, she had long realised that her marriage was not a matter decided by her father or stepmother.
It was entirely in the Empress's hands.
She had overheard the Prime Minister's wife saying, "I wonder whom Her Majesty will choose for Xin'er. She loves me dearly—she will choose the best for her."
And the Prime Minister had replied, "Yes. We need not worry. It is for the Empress to decide."
Thus, Nangong Yi's proposal would be meaningless.
Still, her words were meant to frighten him a little. Even if not as effective as before, she believed it would have some effect.
Ye Lan Jue's lips tightened. His expression grew even more rigid, more frigid.
If she were so willing to accept a proposal… was she truly that impatient?
Nangong Yi recovered quickly. His eyes gleamed as he glanced at Ye Lan Jue.
"Very well. It's settled. I shall go to the Prime Minister's Estate now to propose marriage."
Tang Ke Xin stared at him, stunned. She had not expected him to agree so readily.
"Miss—!" Dong'er's anxious voice sounded from outside.
Tang Ke Xin rose at once. Dong'er would never interrupt unless something serious had happened.
"What is it?" she asked sharply.
Dong'er hurried in. "Miss, the little maid from Madam's courtyard came running to fetch the physician. She said Madam suddenly fainted. The doctor has already rushed to the estate."
Tang Ke Xin's expression changed. She forgot entirely about the two men behind her and hurried out.
The Prime Minister's wife's body was far too weak for strong medicines. Years ago, she had nearly died from blood loss. Though her life had been saved, she had lost the ability to bear children and her health had never recovered. Doctors had prescribed medicine after medicine without considering her frailty, weakening her further.
That was why Tang Ke Xin had treated her with food instead—gentle, nourishing dishes suited to her condition.
She had visited her that very morning. She had seemed fine.
Why had she suddenly fainted?
"Xin Xin, I shall escort you back," Nangong Yi called from behind her. His smile had faded, but the intimate address made her frown.
She stopped, turned, and looked him squarely in the eye.
"Mayor," she said, her voice cool and precise, "that is enough. Let us stop here."
She had no patience left for his antics. She was worried—genuinely worried—for the Prime Minister's wife. Whether Nangong Yi was the man from that night or not no longer mattered. She did not care.
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and left.
Nangong Yi blinked, then laughed softly. "This little girl truly has spirit. I like her."
Ye Lan Jue did not move, but the faintest twitch touched the corner of his mouth.
The guard outside was stunned.
Mayor Nangong likes Miss Tang?
Then… what about His Highness?
He had served the Third Prince long enough to recognise the signs. His Highness treated Miss Tang differently.
"I've discovered that my heart is truly special," Nangong Yi said suddenly, turning to Ye Lan Jue. "What does the Third Prince think?"
Ye Lan Jue lifted his gaze. His lips curved—barely.
"She is special."
Nangong Yi froze.
He had not expected an answer. With Ye Lan Jue's temperament, silence was the norm. Yet now, he not only replied—he admitted it.
But before Nangong Yi could recover, Ye Lan Jue added, slowly and clearly:
"But she is not yours."
With that, he rose and left the room, his robes sweeping behind him like a cold wind.
Nangong Yi remained seated, stunned into silence.
Not mine? Then whose…?
Could it be—
Ye Lan Jue's?
Prime Minister's Estate
By the time Tang Ke Xin returned to the Prime Minister's Estate, the physician had already completed his examination of the Prime Minister's wife. The atmosphere in the courtyard was heavy, tense, and filled with the faint scent of medicinal herbs.
"Doctor, how is she?"
The Prime Minister's voice trembled despite his attempt to remain composed. His face had gone pale with worry.
The physician let out a long, weary sigh before shaking his head.
"Honoured Prime Minister… this humble one is powerless. I fear Madam may not wake again."
"You—what nonsense are you speaking?"
The Prime Minister staggered, his expression tightening with fear.
A woman standing nearby—dressed in fine silks yet wearing a smile far too light for the situation—clicked her tongue.
"How can a physician speak such nonsense?" she said sharply. "Madam only caught a cold. You examined her just two days ago and said it was nothing serious. A few doses of medicine, you said. And now you claim she will not wake?"
Her tone was sharp, but her eyes glittered with something disturbingly close to satisfaction.
This was Aunt Wu—the sole concubine of the estate. Years ago, when the Prime Minister's wife had nearly died in childbirth and lost the ability to conceive, the old madame had forced the Prime Minister to take a concubine for the sake of the family line. Aunt Wu had dutifully borne a daughter and a son within two years. The boy had been raised under the Prime Minister's wife, and once the heir was secured, no further concubines were taken.
Thus, Aunt Wu alone held that position—and she knew it.
Tang Ke Xin ignored her entirely and swept into the room. As the Prime Minister's daughter, no one dared stop her. Everyone assumed she was simply anxious for her mother and paid her no mind.
She approached the bedside, lifted the thin blanket, and placed her fingers gently upon the Prime Minister's wife's wrist.
Her expression changed at once.
"What did Madam eat today?"
Her voice was calm, but a cold edge glinted beneath it.
The maidservant at the bedside startled. "N‑nothing, Miss. Only the food you sent this morning. She ate nothing else." The girl hesitated, then added, "Oh—Madam also drank a cup of chrysanthemum tea afterwards."
Tang Ke Xin straightened abruptly, her eyes turning sharp.
"Who told you to give Madam chrysanthemum tea?"
Her tone was icy. "Did I not instruct you clearly that Madam must not eat or drink anything without my permission?"
The Prime Minister's wife had lost too much blood years ago. Her constitution was weak, her body cold. Chrysanthemum tea—cooling by nature—was absolutely forbidden.
The maid trembled. "I—it was the madame, Miss."
"I had someone deliver it," came a voice from the doorway.
The old madame entered, her expression stern and self‑righteous.
"It is far too hot today. I merely wished to cool her fever. What is the matter? Have I done something wrong?"
Tang Ke Xin turned to her, her gaze colder still.
"Mother has caught a cold. Her body is cold. She cannot drink—"
"Did you not summon a doctor?" the old madame interrupted sharply. "Did he not prescribe medicine? Why are you making a fuss?"
Before Tang Ke Xin could reply, the physician stepped forward hesitantly.
"Prime Minister, madame… this humble one has something to say."
"What is it? Speak," the old madame snapped before the Prime Minister could answer.
The physician bowed his head.
"Madam did not take the medicine I prescribed last time. That is why her cold has not improved."
Tang Ke Xin's lips tightened.
If the Prime Minister's wife had taken the physician's medicine, her cold might have improved—but her already fragile body would have deteriorated further. The doctor's prescriptions were far too harsh for her condition.
And someone had ensured she drank chrysanthemum tea.
Someone wanted her weaker.
Someone wanted her gone.