CHAPTER 130 — CAUGHT SELLING THE PRINCE'S NAME
Ye Lanjue halted so abruptly that Tang Kexin nearly walked into him. Her steps faltered, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. What was he planning now?
He turned his head slightly, his gaze sliding toward her with cool indifference. The faintest curl touched the corner of his lips.
"Is the Sect Leader of the Suo Yan Sect truly so terrible?"
"Terrible?" Tang Kexin scoffed, her anger flaring anew. "He is beyond terrible. He is the very definition of despicable."
Her fury was genuine, unfiltered, and she made no attempt to hide it. She had long suspected that the Sect Leader and the Third Prince were connected—perhaps closely, perhaps dangerously so. And in her current mood, she did not bother to soften her words.
Ye Lanjue's eyes glinted, a strange, unreadable light flickering within them. His lips curved into a faint, complicated smile, but he said nothing more. He simply turned and continued walking.
---
Inside the main hall, Ye Lanchen ordered tea to be served. Tang Kexin's gaze drifted to the table, where paper and ink lay scattered. A few lines of calligraphy were written across the top sheet.
She stepped closer.
"You wrote this?" she asked, raising a brow. "I didn't expect your handwriting to be so good."
Ye Lanchen flushed with pride. "This? It's nothing. You should see Third Brother's writing. Only his can truly be called good."
His expression was full of admiration, almost worshipful.
Tang Kexin, however, was unimpressed. Ye Lanchen's calligraphy was already excellent—far better than most modern people she had known. How much better could the Third Prince possibly be?
"But Xin, you don't believe me because you've never seen Third Brother's writing," Ye Lanchen insisted. "If you had, you'd think my words unworthy of your eyes."
Tang Kexin smiled faintly. "I think what you wrote is very good. Truly."
She lifted the sheet, studying it thoughtfully.
"How about giving it to me?"
A sudden idea had struck her. With Ye Lanjue blocking every path to silver, she needed another way. And calligraphy—especially royal calligraphy—was worth a fortune.
Ye Lanjue's gaze sharpened instantly, a coldness flickering beneath the mask of calm. This woman wanted another man's writing?
"If you want it, take it," Ye Lanchen said cheerfully. "It's only something I scribbled casually."
"But it's nothing compared to Third Brother's writing," he added proudly. "His calligraphy is worth ten thousand gold. Truly priceless."
Tang Kexin's eyes widened.
Ten thousand gold?
Ten thousand taels of gold?
The Third Prince's writing was worth that much?
"Is that so?" she murmured. "I find that hard to believe. It's only calligraphy."
"Third Brother, why don't you write something now?" Ye Lanchen suggested eagerly, turning toward Ye Lanjue.
Tang Kexin pretended indifference, though her eyes flicked briefly toward the Third Prince. She needed silver. If his writing was truly worth that much…
Ye Lanjue's lips curved. Without a word, he walked to the table.
"Prepare the ink," he said.
Tang Kexin blinked.
He was speaking to her.
Ye Lanchen stepped forward instinctively, but froze when he realised the command was not directed at him.
Tang Kexin hesitated only a moment before moving. She had prepared ink countless times for her father in the modern world. Her movements were smooth, practiced, and precise.
Ye Lanjue watched her silently, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.
When she finished, he picked up the brush, dipped it lightly, and began to write.
His movements were effortless, fluid, almost ethereal. The brush danced across the paper, each stroke confident and alive. In the span of a breath, he was done.
Tang Kexin stared.
She had thought Ye Lanchen's writing was excellent. But compared to this… it was like comparing a candle to the sun.
No wonder his calligraphy was worth ten thousand gold.
"So, what do you think Xinxin?" Ye Lanchen asked proudly, as though he had written it himself.
Tang Kexin nodded slowly. "It's… very good."
Ye Lanjue set the brush down and turned to leave.
"Did His Highness not sign it?" Tang Kexin asked suddenly. "Shouldn't there be a seal?"
Ye Lanchen blinked. "Ah—yes! Third Brother, shouldn't you—"
Ye Lanjue paused mid‑step.
He turned, his gaze locking onto Tang Kexin. For a long moment, he simply stared at her, unreadable.
Then, slowly, he picked up the brush again.
He wrote his name.
Tang Kexin's heart skipped.
But she wasn't done.
She waited.
After a brief hesitation, Ye Lanjue reached into his sleeve and withdrew a square jade seal. He pressed it firmly onto the paper.
Tang Kexin's eyes gleamed.
A signed and sealed calligraphy piece from the Third Prince.
This would fetch far more than fifty thousand taels.
If Ye Lanjue had prevented her from borrowing money, then she would use his name to raise it.
The moment he finished sealing it, she snatched the paper and tucked it away.
Ye Lanjue's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. His lips curved faintly, though whether in amusement or irritation, she could not tell.
Ye Lanchen, however, was stunned.
Third Brother had not only written for her—he had signed and sealed it. That had never happened before.
---
After leaving the prince's mansion, Tang Kexin returned to the Prime Minister's estate with a spring in her step.
"Miss, why are you so happy?" Dong'er asked, startled. "Did you manage to raise the money?"
"Almost," Tang Kexin said mysteriously, entering her room.
She pulled out the calligraphy.
"This should be worth fifty thousand taels, right?"
Dong'er gasped. "This… this is the Third Prince's writing? And he signed it? And sealed it? Miss, where did you get this?"
"He wrote it just now," Tang Kexin said, lowering her voice. "It should be enough."
"Enough?" Dong'er sputtered. "Miss, this is worth fifty thousand gold, not silver!"
Tang Kexin's eyes brightened. "Even better."
Dong'er stared at her in horror. "Miss… you're not thinking of selling the Third Prince's calligraphy, are you?"
"Of course. How else will we raise the money?"
"But… but that's the Third Prince's name!"
Tang Kexin waved her off. "Where can we sell it quietly, without attracting too much attention, but still get a good price?"
Dong'er sighed in defeat. "The Falling Ink Workshop. They specialise in paintings and calligraphy."
"Perfect. Let's go."
---
The Falling Ink Workshop was elegant and serene, nothing like a bustling marketplace. Tang Kexin stepped inside, impressed.
"What may I help you with, ladies?" the shopkeeper asked warmly.
"I have a piece of calligraphy written personally by the Third Prince," Tang Kexin said calmly. "I wish to sell it."
The shopkeeper froze.
"The… the Third Prince's calligraphy?"
Her voice rose involuntarily, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop.
"Yes," Tang Kexin said, unbothered.
"Is it genuine?" someone whispered.
"Of course it is," Tang Kexin replied. "One hundred percent authentic."
But outside the shop, a pair of cold, dark eyes watched her through the window.
Ye Lanjue's gaze sharpened, his expression turning glacial.
Very good.
This woman had tricked him into signing and sealing the piece…
and now she was selling it?
He had caught her on the spot.