CHAPTER 75 — THE MOMENT HIS RESTRAIN SHATTERED
He had no intention of sparing her.
If she refused to face the truth, he would place it directly before her—so plainly that she could neither flee nor deny it.
Ye Lan Jue paused just above the scar on her shoulder. Then, with deliberate slowness, he tugged the fabric upward again. One more inch—just one—and he would see everything.
"What are you doing?"
Tang Ke Xin's voice trembled. Her heart felt as though it might burst from her chest. Every drop of blood in her body seemed to freeze. The moment his teeth caught her clothing, she twisted her head sharply to look at him.
But fate played its cruel trick.
He lifted his head at the same instant she turned—
and her lips brushed directly against his.
Ye Lan Jue's entire body tensed.
This time, he did not give her the slightest chance to retreat.
Nor did he allow her even a breath to escape.
He seized her and kissed her.
The cramped space behind the cabinet left her nowhere to run. His arms locked around her, pressing her tightly against his chest. Her breath hitched, growing shallow, then ragged. Heat surged through her, overwhelming, suffocating.
But unlike before, he did not release her quickly.
He drew back only enough for her to breathe—
only enough to keep her conscious—
before claiming her lips again.
As though one kiss was no longer enough.
His hand, once resting at her waist, began to slide upward along her back. Slow. Intentional. Possessive. His fingers traced the line of her spine, then moved forward—
toward the buttons of her clothing.
One.
Two.
Three.
"Third Prince!"
Her voice cracked—weak from breathlessness, yet edged with unmistakable coldness.
The sound jolted him.
Ye Lan Jue froze.
He blinked, as though waking from a fevered dream.
Then he saw her—
her dishevelled clothing, her flushed face, the chaos he had caused.
Regret flickered in his eyes.
He had lost control.
He—who never spared a glance for any woman, no matter how beautiful.
He—who remained unmoved even if a woman stood naked before him.
He—who prided himself on discipline and restraint.
Yet one kiss from her had shattered all of it.
If he had not experienced it himself, he would never have believed it.
He drew a slow breath, trying to steady himself. But she was too close—her scent, her warmth, her presence pressed against him. His composure wavered.
Still, he reached out, intending to fasten the buttons he had undone.
A torment in itself.
If he touched her again—
even by accident—
he might lose control entirely.
"I'll do it myself," Tang Ke Xin said quickly, retreating as far as the cramped space allowed. She fumbled with the buttons, her fingers trembling.
But ancient fastenings were nothing like modern ones.
Her hands slipped.
She tugged too hard.
A button tore free.
Tang Ke Xin stared at it, stunned.
Why was this button fighting her?
"Tang Ke Xin," Ye Lan Jue drawled, "if you continue like this, this king will suspect you are deliberately seducing me."
She snapped.
"Seducing you? Get lost!"
Her temper erupted like a struck match.
Prince or not—she had reached her limit.
Even if he was the man from that night, she refused to cower.
Which of his eyes had seen her seducing him?
She would sooner seduce a brick wall.
Ye Lan Jue blinked, momentarily startled.
No woman had ever spoken to him like that.
But then—
this woman had said many things no one else dared.
She finished fastening the remaining buttons, though one gaping space remained in the middle. It looked… unfortunate.
Ye Lan Jue's gaze dropped.
His body tensed again.
She had managed to secure the top and bottom, but the missing button left a tantalising glimpse of skin. Her figure—slender, soft, maddeningly tempting—was impossible to ignore.
He swallowed.
He needed to take her away.
Immediately.
Before he did something truly reckless.
"What are you staring at? Look again and I'll gouge out your eyes."
Her glare was fierce enough to kill.
Wasn't he supposed to be indifferent to women?
Wasn't he rumoured to have no concubines, no bed-warmers, no interest whatsoever?
Then what was he doing now?
And didn't he like Nangong Yi?
Why was he doing this to her?
Her fury surged. She wanted to strangle someone—preferably the man smirking at her.
Ye Lan Jue, however, obediently turned his head aside.
But the corners of his lips betrayed him, curving upward.
She was adorable.
Infuriatingly adorable.
He wanted to kiss her again—
to hold her—
to claim her—
but he restrained himself.
Barely.
If he pushed her now, she might actually kill him.
Tang Ke Xin finally found a long strip of cloth and threaded it through the gap in her clothing. She attempted to tie a neat bow.
It grew uglier with every attempt.
She gave up and tied a simple knot.
Ye Lan Jue watched, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
A normal woman could tie a bow in seconds.
This woman… could not.
Yet she could hide, fight, and move like a trained operative.
She was brilliant in medicine and psychology
but hopeless in domestic tasks.
"Allow this king to help," he said, unable to resist.
"No."
"This king insists. It is too ugly to look at."
He said it without shame.
Teasing her had become one of the great pleasures of his life—
especially when they were alone.
It was only in private—only when no one else was present—that the Third Prince allowed himself to relax, to shed the icy mask he wore before the world. Only then did Tang Ke Xin glimpse the true face beneath the legend.
No one else would ever see this side of him.
When he spoke, Tang Ke Xin held her breath.
Could his tongue be any sharper?
"You can leave now," she said at last, exhaling slowly, then inhaling again to steady herself. Only after several breaths did she manage to calm her racing heart enough to speak.
Ye Lan Jue's gaze drifted lazily around the room before he replied, "This is the imperial palace."
The meaning was clear.
This is not your home. You do not decide who stays or goes.
The Third Prince had never been dismissed like this in his life. Anyone else who dared to chase him away would have been reduced to ashes—if not by his hand, then by the guards who served him.
Yet now, he was not angry.
He was amused.
He knew Tang Ke Xin's temperament well enough to understand that she would never reveal such an unguarded, unrestrained side of herself before an outsider. Which meant—
In her heart, he occupied a place different from others.
Tang Ke Xin felt her temper knotting itself into a tight, painful coil. This man was doing it on purpose. He was provoking her deliberately, enjoying every moment of her frustration.
But he was right.
This was the imperial palace, not the Prime Minister's estate, not her room. She had sneaked in; she had no right to order him out.
If anything, he had more right to be here than she did.
She wanted to shout that if he refused to leave, then she would—but she couldn't. She had important matters to attend to. She needed to catch the murderer. And the palace gates were already closed; she couldn't leave even if she wanted to.
"Judging by the situation," Ye Lan Jue said softly, "the person you are waiting for will not act tonight. You may as well prepare to wait here until dawn."
His tone was calm, almost casual, but his words struck her like a blow.
How did he know?
How could he possibly know whether the culprit would appear?
Had he deduced something she had not?
Or was he simply toying with her again?
But then—
His next words chilled her to the bone.