CHAPTER 84 — THE THIRD PRINCE'S HAND BEHIND THE CURTAIN
For a long moment, Tang Ke Xin could not fathom what the mysterious man intended. A faint chill crept along her spine. If he had recognised her—truly recognised her—what would he do?
Would he simply kill her?
Cut her into pieces without hesitation?
Or would he choose a slower, more deliberate cruelty—one that made her beg for life yet denied her the mercy of death?
The thought alone made her shudder.
But fear was useless without knowledge.
What mattered now was discovering who he was.
"Miss, what is happening?" Dong'er asked anxiously. "What do we do now? Do we return one pendant? Or both?"
Their original plan had been simple: steal the Mu family heirloom and return it later. But now a second pendant had appeared—one that should not exist. How were they to return anything without exposing themselves?
"Keep both pendants for now," Tang Ke Xin said, her expression darkening. "Guard them carefully."
She still did not understand why the man had returned the original pendant. If he merely suspected her identity, then returning the jade was a test. And if she returned it too soon, she would reveal herself completely.
The Mu family heirloom must be returned eventually—but not yet.
Not until she understood his intentions.
She suspected that the returned pendant was only the first move.
There would be more.
She was waiting for his next step.
But before she could think further, an unexpected whirlwind burst into the Prime Minister's estate.
"Elder Sister Tang! Elder Sister Tang! I've come to see you!"
The Little Princess's bright voice rang through the courtyard long before she appeared. The servants of the Ning Palace were accustomed to her exuberance, but the Prime Minister's household was utterly stunned.
The Little Princess—calling their young miss elder sister?
Tang Ke Xin pressed a hand to her forehead. She had barely begun to worry about the jade pendant, and now this troublesome child had arrived.
"Elder Sister Tang! Elder Sister Tang!"
Her voice was sweet, cheerful, and loud enough to wake the dead.
Before Tang Ke Xin could rise, the Little Princess fluttered into the room like a butterfly, her smile radiant.
"Elder Sister Tang, I've missed you so much these past few days!"
"Princess… are you certain you mean me?" Tang Ke Xin asked dryly. She knew perfectly well what the girl wanted.
"Of course I do!" The princess blinked her large, watery eyes with exaggerated sincerity.
Tang Ke Xin simply stared at her.
The princess wilted under that gaze almost immediately.
"Well… I was also thinking about Big Sister Tang's mind‑reading skills," she admitted, cheeks puffing slightly.
Tang Ke Xin nearly laughed. The girl was genuinely adorable—if only she did not chase her every time begging to learn mind‑reading.
"Sister Tang, please teach me!" The princess clasped her wrist, eyes shining with hope.
"Princess, this humble girl truly does not know any mind‑reading techniques," Tang Ke Xin replied firmly.
She expected the princess to pout or throw a tantrum.
Instead, the girl fell silent.
Utterly silent.
She sat with her head bowed, unmoving.
Tang Ke Xin frowned.
This was… unusual.
Then she noticed the droplets falling onto the princess's lap.
"Princess?" she whispered.
The girl lifted her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I know… none of you like me. You all think I'm crazy, noisy, annoying…"
"No—no, that's not—" Tang Ke Xin stammered, her heart twisting.
"I've never had a mother," the princess continued, voice trembling. "She died after giving birth to me. The other women in the manor hated me. Only Father loved me… but he was always away. When he wasn't home, they bullied me."
Her tears fell faster.
Tang Ke Xin's chest tightened. She could imagine it all too clearly—the lonely child, the cold manor, the petty cruelties of jealous women.
"But… but I never thought that Father—the one who loved me most—would… would…"
Her voice broke entirely.
Tang Ke Xin pulled her into her arms at once.
"Enough, enough. Don't cry," she murmured softly.
The princess clung to her, sobbing harder.
"Elder sister… I miss Father. I miss him so much. Why did he leave? Why did he leave me? Did he not want me anymore?"
It was the first time she had cried like this in front of anyone.
The first time she had confided her heart.
And she called Tang Ke Xin elder sister—a title of trust, of reliance.
"It's not that he didn't want you," Tang Ke Xin whispered. "He loved you. He simply had to go somewhere far away. But he is watching you, even now. Watching you grow."
As she spoke, a forgotten ache stirred in her own heart.
She remembered—dimly—being abandoned outside an orphanage at the age of two. She had buried that memory long ago, but the princess's grief brought it back with painful clarity.
"Elder sister… I want to learn mind‑reading," the princess sobbed. "I want to know who truly cares for me… and who only pretends."
Tang Ke Xin's heart softened completely.
"Very well," she said gently. "I will teach you."
The princess's tears vanished instantly. She lifted her head, smiling through the wetness.
"Really? Big Sister agreed? That's wonderful!"
Tang Ke Xin narrowed her eyes slightly.
Something was wrong.
Not a long time ago, the princess had tried to demand lessons and immediately reverted to her royal arrogance when refused. But today she had used tears—real or not—to win sympathy.
This was not her idea.
Someone had coached her.
"Mm, I promised you," Tang Ke Xin said lightly. "By the way… who gave you such a clever idea? To beg me like this?"
The princess beamed, completely disarmed.
"It was Brother Third—"
She clapped a hand over her mouth too late.
Tang Ke Xin's smile sharpened.
"So. The Third Prince advised you."
Her eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering within them.
As she had suspected—
the Little Princess would never have devised such a tactic on her own.
And Ye Lan Jue…
had interfered again.
So it was that cunning fox who had planted the idea in the Little Princess's head.
"Yes… yes, it was the Third Brother," the princess admitted in a tiny voice. "He said this method would definitely work on Elder Sister, so he told me to…"
Her words trailed off as guilt washed over her. Not only had she exposed her own scheme, she had betrayed her beloved Third Brother in the process. Her small shoulders hunched, and she looked as though she wished she could shrink into the floor.
"Good. Very good. His Highness, is it?"
Tang Ke Xin's smile blossomed slowly—beautiful, serene, and utterly terrifying.
Her tone was soft, almost musical, yet beneath it lay the unmistakable sound of teeth grinding.
Excellent. Truly excellent.
Not only did he obstruct her at every turn, he even took the time to teach the princess how to manipulate her.
She would remember this debt.
She would remember it well.
The Little Princess, however, felt none of the beauty in that smile. Instead, a cold shiver ran down her spine, and she instinctively edged back, as though a predator had just bared its fangs at her.