CHAPTER 139: WHEN THE CROWN PRINCE FAILED
The moment the figure dragged her behind the rockery, Tang Kexin's eyes narrowed, a shard of cold light flashing within them. Her expression hardened, but she did not panic. She did not tremble. Instead, her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the object she had concealed earlier.
The man—now clearly visible in the dim light—studied her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. He had expected fear, confusion, perhaps even desperation. Instead, she was composed. Too composed.
His gaze sharpened.
"Your pulse is steady," he murmured. "Your eyes are clear. Why are you so calm?"
Tang Kexin understood perfectly well that, under normal circumstances, she would never be able to break free from his hold. She had no martial training, no physical advantage. Her only hope was to make him lower his guard.
So the frost in her eyes melted away.
Her lashes lowered.
Her lips curved into a soft, alluring smile—gentle, inviting, deceptively fragile.
The Crown Prince's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
Ah.
This was the reaction he had expected.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a silken whisper.
"Do not fear. I will save you. I will be your antidote."
Tang Kexin nearly laughed aloud.
Save her?
He was the poison.
And now she knew with certainty: the Crown Prince was part of the scheme. Perhaps even the mastermind. But something still felt wrong. The true puppeteer—the mastermind —was far too cautious to expose himself so openly. Why would he allow the Crown Prince to act so boldly?
She tucked the thought away.
Now was not the time.
Instead, she let her body soften, leaning back against the rockery as though overwhelmed by the effects of the drug. Her posture shifted subtly—her shoulders lowering, her legs extending, her breath quickening in a way that suggested rising heat.
Her foot brushed lightly against the Crown Prince's ankle.
A calculated touch.
A lure.
His breath hitched. His smile widened, triumphant and hungry. He leaned in, his posture loosening, his guard dropping entirely.
That was all she needed.
In one swift, precise movement, Tang Kexin lifted her leg and drove her knee upward with all the force she could muster—straight into the most vulnerable part of his body.
"Ah—!"
The Crown Prince's scream tore through the air. His grip on her vanished instantly as he crumpled, half‑squatting, then collapsing fully onto the ground, clutching himself in agony.
His eyes bulged with disbelief and fury.
Tang Kexin smiled sweetly.
Then she reached into her sleeve.
A thick wooden stick—carefully chosen and hidden earlier—slid into her hand.
She stepped toward him.
"Tang Kexin—what are you doing?" he gasped, horror dawning across his face.
"What am I doing?" she echoed, her tone light, almost innocent. "I thought it was obvious."
And she brought the stick down.
The Crown Prince howled as the blow struck his back, forcing him flat against the ground.
"You—you dare hit me?" he sputtered, voice cracking with pain and outrage.
Tang Kexin did not bother to answer.
She simply continued.
Strike after strike, each one precise, merciless, and perfectly targeted. She knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum pain without causing permanent damage. She was a doctor, after all.
The Crown Prince rolled helplessly across the ground, unable to rise, unable to defend himself. He had been pampered since childhood, raised as the heir to the throne. He had never suffered hardship, never endured pain, never imagined that anyone—least of all a woman—would dare lay a hand on him.
"Tang Kexin—stop! Stop! I command you!" he cried, his voice breaking.
"Or what?" she replied coolly, bringing the stick down again. "You'll kill me? You've been planning that for quite some time."
"You—when I get my hands on you—I'll make you wish for death!"
Tang Kexin laughed softly, her eyes glinting.
"I'll wait. I'm very curious to see how you intend to do that."
Another blow.
And another.
By the time she finally paused, the Crown Prince's face was so swollen and distorted that even his own mother would not have recognised him.
Tang Kexin tilted her head.
"Oh dear. I may have used a bit too much force."
Her tone was apologetic.
Her eyes were not.
The Crown Prince whimpered, unable to form coherent words.
Tang Kexin ignored him. She glanced around, then spotted a cluster of vines trailing down the rockery. She pulled them free and quickly bound his wrists and ankles—not tightly enough to restrain him forever, but enough to keep him in place for the next act of the drama.
"You—what are you doing now?" he croaked, panic rising.
Tang Kexin smiled.
"Why, Crown Prince, I'm helping you."
She reached into her sleeve again and withdrew a soft, rounded object. She squeezed it gently, and droplets of liquid fell onto his lips.
He froze.
"What… what is that?"
"How could you not recognise it?" she asked sweetly. "It's the tea I was supposed to drink. Such a pity I didn't. So now, Your Highness should enjoy it in my place."
The Crown Prince's face drained of colour.
The drug he had intended for her—now entering his own bloodstream.
His eyes widened in horror.
And Tang Kexin smiled.
CHAPTER 140: WHEN HIS COMPOSURE FINALLY CRACKED
Earlier, when Feng Qingyan had forced the cup of tea upon her, Tang Kexin had not drunk a single drop. She had not resorted to the childish tricks seen in dramas—no hiding liquid in her sleeves, no sleight of hand. Instead, she had taken advantage of the brief moment when Feng Qingyan's attention wavered and quietly poured the drugged tea onto the small, round absorbent object she carried in her sleeve.
She had found the little thing by chance in the marketplace—soft, spongy, oddly absorbent. She had bought it on a whim, never imagining it would one day save her life.
Now, she had simply returned the favour.
She still did not know whether the Crown Prince had orchestrated everything, or whether Feng Qingyan had acted under someone else's orders. But the moment the Crown Prince appeared behind the rockery—blocking her path, reaching for her—his intentions had been unmistakable.
He had wanted to use the drug as an excuse.
He had wanted to destroy her.
He had wanted her ruined.
Since he had plotted against her, he could hardly blame her for what followed.
Of course, she had not given him the full dose. She merely wanted him dazed—just enough for her plan to unfold smoothly.
"Tang Kexin… you witch."
The Crown Prince's voice trembled with terror. He knew exactly what he had swallowed.
Tang Kexin smiled faintly.
"Yes. I rather like that title. Though truly, this is nothing more than child's play. If there is a next time, Your Highness, I shall let you witness what it means to provoke the Queen of Hell."
Her tone was soft, almost conversational. Yet the Crown Prince shuddered violently. He believed her. He believed she was capable of anything.
"Tang Kexin… I—I was instructed by someone else. Today's matter… let it go."
He forced the words out, abandoning his pride. Better to beg her in private than be humiliated before the world.
Tang Kexin's gaze slid over him—cold, disdainful.
He, the Crown Prince, claiming he had merely followed orders?
If he had not wanted this, who could have compelled him?
She did not bother to answer. She simply turned and walked away.
"Tang Kexin—stop! I said stop!"
His voice rose in panic, but he dared not shout too loudly. If anyone saw him like this—dishevelled, bound, drugged—his princely dignity would be shattered.
Tang Kexin did not even pause.
Behind her, the Crown Prince struggled against the vines. She had tied them loosely on purpose; he could have freed himself easily. But the drug was beginning to take effect. His limbs weakened, his consciousness blurred, and soon he could barely move at all.
Tang Kexin walked away from the rockery, though not far. She knew the next act of this little drama was about to begin. She found a shaded spot, sat down, and waited.
But the moment she settled, a shadow fell over her—broad, tall, blocking out the light.
She looked up.
Ye Lanjue stood before her.
Her eyes flickered.
Why him? Again?
He appeared everywhere she went, as though fate—or misfortune—kept throwing them together.
But something was wrong.
His expression was colder than usual, but beneath the frost lay something else—something tight, strained, almost… frantic. A complexity she could not decipher. She understood psychology well enough, but she had never attempted to analyse him. She had always kept her distance, always avoided entanglement.
So she simply ignored it.
Ye Lanjue, however, was anything but calm.
Before seeing her, he had been torn between dread and fury. Now, seeing her sitting unharmed, he felt a rush of relief so sharp it almost hurt. But the relief was quickly swallowed by confusion, by fear, by something he refused to name.
"You did not meet Feng Qingyan?"
His voice was low, cold, threaded with a chill that did not belong to the summer air.
Tang Kexin's eyes flickered.
He knew?
"I met her," she replied after a moment's thought. She chose honesty. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else in this palace. And she knew—instinctively—that he had not been part of this plot.
Ye Lanjue's shoulders stiffened.
"Did you drink her tea?"
"Yes."
The answer slipped out before she could stop it. His shock was so palpable that she reacted instinctively.
His expression changed at once.
He seized her shoulders, gripping them with a force that startled her.
"You drank it?"
His voice was strained—too strained.
Tang Kexin opened her mouth to explain, but he cut her off.
"And after drinking it—what happened? Who did you meet on the way?"
"I met the Crown Prince behind the rockery," she answered, startled by the urgency in his tone.
Ye Lanjue's grip tightened.
His heartbeat seemed to stop.
A cold, suffocating fear surged through him.
"Tell me," he said, his voice barely controlled, "what happened after you met him?"
Tang Kexin hesitated.
Should she tell him she had beaten the Crown Prince half to death? That she had tied him up and fed him the drug instead?
It was not a small matter.
And she had no intention of letting anyone know.
Her silence stretched.
Ye Lanjue's eyes changed—darkening, sharpening, filling with something fierce and dangerous.
Something she had never seen before.