CHAPTER 74 — THE MOMENT HE KNEW
"Since it is evidence," Tang Ke Xin said coolly, "we cannot allow just anyone to examine it. If the Third Prince wishes to see it, he may—after pressing his handprint. Only then may we…"
She trailed off deliberately.
He had bullied her thoroughly tonight. She was determined to reclaim at least a sliver of dignity.
But she had overlooked one crucial detail.
They were alone.
Completely alone.
If the Third Prince truly wished to do something, how could she possibly resist him?
Still, she refused to swallow her anger. If she did not vent it now, she might very well suffocate.
"Tang Ke Xin," Ye Lan Jue said softly, dangerously, "are you challenging this king's limits?"
His eyes narrowed, and a wave of cold, lethal pressure filled the room. It wrapped around her like a tightening noose.
This damnable woman.
She truly dared to provoke him.
Press his palm for a handprint?
She had courage—far too much of it.
Before he could move, Tang Ke Xin darted aside, anticipating his reaction.
Ye Lan Jue paused, one brow lifting.
Did she truly think she could escape him?
In a space this small, with nowhere to hide, an eagle could seize a rabbit in the blink of an eye.
And she—
she was the rabbit.
But the Third Prince did not yet realise that rabbits, when cornered, could bite.
"Tang Ke Xin," he drawled, folding his arms lazily, "don't you think this room is rather small?"
She blinked. "Small? Not particularly."
"I merely thought," he continued, lips curving slowly, "that it is a pity to waste such a beautiful night indoors."
Her confusion deepened. He found her expression—slightly dazed, slightly wary—irresistibly endearing.
She could not help but tease him.
"Yes, it is a pity," she replied sweetly. "The Third Prince should go find his beloved, admire the moon, drink wine beneath it… or do something else entirely."
She meant it sincerely.
"Is that so?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "Admiring the moon and drinking wine are unnecessary. I can simply do… something else."
A scoundrel.
A beast wrapped in silk.
Tang Ke Xin's mind leapt to Nangong Yi. If he truly liked him, then moon-gazing and wine-drinking were harmless enough.
But "something else"…
No. That scene was unthinkable.
She turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
"What are you thinking?" Ye Lan Jue asked suddenly.
He had moved without a sound. One moment he was across the room, the next he was standing directly before her.
Before she could answer, a faint sound drifted from the courtyard.
Ye Lan Jue reacted instantly. He pulled her into the shadows behind the cabinet—the same place she had hidden earlier.
The space was cramped.
With both of them squeezed inside, there was no room to breathe.
He held her tightly against him, her back pressed to his chest, their bodies fitting together with disconcerting ease.
Tang Ke Xin's eyes remained fixed on the door. She barely registered the intimacy of their position. In moments of danger, she had always been able to ignore everything else.
Even the Third Prince's arms around her.
Ye Lan Jue noticed.
Her stillness.
Her focus.
Her complete lack of reaction to his embrace.
She was too calm.
Too accustomed to this.
As though hiding in a man's arms was nothing new to her.
A cold, dangerous thought flickered through him.
If it were another man holding her like this… would she react the same way?
"If it were someone else hugging you," he whispered behind her, "would you behave like this as well?"
"Is there a difference?" she replied absently.
His blood ran cold.
"No difference?" he repeated softly. "Do you mean others have done this before?"
His voice was calm—too calm.
But beneath it lay a storm.
"It's normal," she said simply. "In the past, I often had to hide like this during missions."
Normal.
Ordinary.
For her, perhaps.
For him, it was anything but.
The dangerous aura around him dissipated abruptly, replaced by something far more complex.
The sound outside faded.
No one entered.
Likely just a stray cat.
Tang Ke Xin relaxed slightly.
And immediately sensed something wrong.
Ye Lan Jue's arms tightened around her waist—hard.
"Your Highness," she whispered, "there's nothing outside. I must have misheard."
"Is that so?" he murmured.
He did not release her.
He held her even closer, his chest pressed firmly against her back.
His breath brushed the nape of her neck—warm, soft, unbearably intimate.
Tang Ke Xin stiffened.
"Third Prince…" she breathed, trying to pull away.
"Don't move."
His voice was gentle, but the command in it was absolute.
She froze.
Then she felt it.
His lips.
At the back of her neck.
Slowly, deliberately, he traced a path downward.
Toward—
Her bite mark.
The one from that night.
She had not covered it today. It was plainly visible.
If he truly was the man from that night…
Her heart pounded violently.
He moved closer.
Closer still.
Then—
His lips parted.
And he bit down on the fabric covering her shoulder.
Tang Ke Xin went rigid.
He knew.
He knew.
He knew it was her.
He felt her stiffen—every muscle in her body turning rigid beneath his touch. The faintest lift of his brow betrayed his satisfaction. Instead of releasing her clothing, he tightened his grip and continued to draw the fabric down her shoulder, inch by deliberate inch.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
Unhurried, as though savouring every heartbeat of her panic.
The cloth slipped lower.
And lower still.
Closer and closer to the scar on her shoulder—the mark she had prayed he would never see.
One more inch, and the truth would be laid bare.
The corners of Ye Lan Jue's lips curved upward, a quiet, predatory smile. In truth, he had long suspected the truth. He had pieced together every clue, every reaction, every slip of her composure.
But suspicion was not enough.
He wanted confirmation.
He wanted her to know that he knew.
And now—her reaction told him everything.
This woman would not shed tears until she saw the coffin.
Very well.
He would place the coffin directly before her.
He would strip away every last escape route.
He would leave her nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
He would make her face him—
and the truth she had tried so desperately to bury.