CHAPTER 119 — A QUESTION THAT COULD CHANGE EVERYTHING
For a heartbeat, Tang Ke Xin could not move.
Her mind blanked.
Her breath caught.
Her entire body froze beneath the weight of Ye Lan Jue's sudden, overwhelming presence.
Was this man mad?
His lips were still pressed against hers, fierce and consuming, as though he meant to swallow her whole. His body pinned her to the carriage seat, one hand trapping both of her wrists above her head, the other braced beside her, caging her completely.
She tried to twist away, but his strength was absolute.
She could not move.
She could not breathe.
She could only feel him — the heat of him, the fury of him, the raw, unrestrained desire burning through him.
"Your Highness—!" she gasped the moment she managed to wrench her lips free.
He stopped.
But he did not release her.
His breath was harsh, uneven, brushing against her cheek. His forehead rested against hers, his grip still iron‑tight, his body still pressed against her as though he feared she might vanish if he let go.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough, and edged with a dangerous intensity she had never heard from him before.
"Does this king's choice of consort," he said slowly, "have nothing to do with you?"
Tang Ke Xin blinked up at him, stunned.
What?
What did that have to do with anything?
"Your Highness," she said cautiously, "although we have a cooperative relationship, your choice of consort and our cooperation—"
"Tang Ke Xin," he growled, his eyes turning glacial, "if you dare finish that sentence, this king will—"
He did not finish the threat.
He did not need to.
The fury in his eyes said enough.
Tang Ke Xin swallowed hard. "O‑of course, this humble girl knows Your Highness would not agree to the consort selection."
Ye Lan Jue froze.
His grip loosened slightly.
He stared at her, genuinely taken aback. "How do you know this king would not agree?"
Tang Ke Xin almost laughed.
Because you're in love with someone you can't marry.
Because the Empress is trying to separate you from her.
Because you would never choose a woman you do not want.
But she could not say any of that.
So she simply smiled — a small, knowing smile that made his heart jolt.
Ye Lan Jue's eyes narrowed. "What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing," she said quickly.
He did not believe her for a second.
"What are you thinking?" he demanded, his brows drawing together.
Tang Ke Xin hesitated, then asked, "Your Highness… did the Empress ask you to choose a consort because of me?"
Ye Lan Jue's breath caught.
For a moment — just a moment — hope flickered in his eyes.
Had she finally realised?
Had she finally understood?
But then she continued.
"This humble girl believes that after today, Feng Qingyan will not dare pester Your Highness again. And even if she does, Your Highness can handle her. So… perhaps we should end our cooperation, so the Empress will not misunderstand and forbid you from choosing a wife."
The flicker of hope died instantly.
Ye Lan Jue stared at her.
Then he exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening.
"Tang Ke Xin," he said through clenched teeth, "is your head filled with water?"
Tang Ke Xin blinked. "Your Highness… did you overhear my conversation with Ye Lan Chen?"
Ye Lan Jue's expression darkened.
He had indeed overheard.
Every word.
Every foolish, infuriating word.
He suddenly felt exhausted — not physically, but emotionally.
If he continued speaking to her, he might truly lose his mind.
He leaned back, releasing her wrists at last.
"Ming Xun," he called sharply.
The carriage driver straightened immediately. "Your Highness?"
"We are returning."
Tang Ke Xin sat up quickly. "Your Highness, perhaps I should get off first—"
Ye Lan Jue turned his head slowly.
The look he gave her made her heart stop.
Cold.
Dangerous.
Possessive.
"Tang Ke Xin," he said softly, "if you move one more step, this king cannot guarantee what he will do."
She froze.
He meant it.
She sat back down immediately.
"Then… I will trouble Your Highness to send me home," she muttered, annoyed.
Her tone was casual, almost petulant — nothing like the respectful politeness she usually used with him.
And Ye Lan Jue…
Smiled.
Just a little.
Because this — this unguarded, irritated, real version of her — was the one he liked most.
"Ming Xun," he said, his voice noticeably lighter, "to the Prime Minister's Estate."
The driver blinked in surprise. The Third Prince rarely gave such direct instructions. But he obeyed at once.
---
The carriage rolled forward.
Silence settled between them — not tense, but strangely comfortable.
Tang Ke Xin glanced around and noticed several books neatly arranged on a shelf. She reached for one, flipping it open.
It was a dense military treatise — the kind of text most noble sons struggled to understand.
Ye Lan Jue watched her from the corner of his eye.
She was reading it seriously.
He frowned.
"Do you understand it?" he asked.
Tang Ke Xin nodded. "More or less."
Ye Lan Jue leaned closer. "Truly?"
She lifted her gaze briefly, gave him a single, unimpressed look, then returned to the book.
He stared at her.
She was avoiding him.
He could tell.
But she was also reading — genuinely reading — a text that even seasoned generals found difficult.
He leaned closer still, his voice low and teasing. "Where are you reading?"
Tang Ke Xin stiffened slightly at his proximity. "The section on spearhead formations."
"Oh?" His interest sharpened. "Explain it."
Tang Ke Xin inhaled slowly, then began.
"The spearhead formation is often misunderstood as a purely offensive tactic. In reality, its structure allows both attack and defence. It increases damage against cavalry while reducing the cavalry's ability to break through."
Ye Lan Jue's eyes widened slightly.
She continued, her tone calm and precise.
"The formation's additional attribute — Thorny Charge — triggers when an enemy stands behind the target. Even if the enemy is a longbow unit, the effect still activates if there is a gap between them."
She flipped the page.
"When triggered, the damage calculation is independent of the front unit. It is based solely on the attacker's and defender's attributes."
Ye Lan Jue stared at her.
She spoke fluently.
Confidently.
Expertly.
As though she had studied military strategy her entire life.
Tang Ke Xin added, "However, despite its versatility, the formation is still somewhat awkward. It lacks the focused defence of heavy shields and the specialised offence of elite guards."
Silence.
Ye Lan Jue did not blink.
He simply stared at her — long, hard, and utterly stunned.
Finally, he spoke.
"Tang Ke Xin," he said slowly, "just who are you?"
His voice was soft, but beneath it lay a storm.
Because no ordinary girl — no noble daughter, no palace maid, no physician — could speak like that.
No ordinary girl could read a military treatise with such ease.
No ordinary girl could deduce crimes, analyse corpses, or understand battlefield formations.
No ordinary girl could challenge him, infuriate him, and fascinate him all at once.
Tang Ke Xin looked up.
And for the first time, she saw it clearly —
The Third Prince was not merely curious.
He was suspicious.
Deeply, dangerously suspicious.
And she…
Had no idea how to answer.