CHAPTER 157: WHY MARRIAGE IS IMPOSSIBLE
Tang Kexin stood frozen, unable to speak. The palace maid's words echoed in her mind, each syllable more impossible than the last.
A marriage decree?
For her?
Announced in court?
It had been barely two days. The Empress had said nothing. And the Emperor—who had always remained aloof from such matters—had suddenly intervened?
Nothing made sense.
"What?"
The Prime Minister's wife, upon hearing the news, reacted with even greater shock. Her face drained of colour, her voice trembling. "What did you say? Xin'er… marry the Third Prince?"
Her reaction was not merely startled—it was fearful.
Tang Kexin's eyes narrowed. The Prime Minister's wife's panic was far too intense for a simple objection to an imperial match.
"Yes, Madam," the palace maid replied, her voice shrinking under the weight of their reactions. "The decree was announced this morning, before the entire court."
She had expected joy. Instead, she found herself facing dread.
"This… this is impossible. How could this be allowed? No—no, absolutely not."
The Prime Minister's wife shook her head repeatedly, her hands trembling.
Tang Kexin watched her closely. Even if the Prime Minister's wife disliked the idea of her marrying the Third Prince, this level of terror was excessive. It was as though she believed the marriage would destroy her.
Or expose something.
"I must see the Empress. Take me to her at once."
The Prime Minister's wife's voice cracked with urgency.
"The Empress instructed that you and Miss Tang remain here unless—"
"Yes. I will see her now. Immediately."
Her tone brooked no refusal.
Without waiting for permission, she strode out of the courtyard.
"Madam—Madam, please wait!"
The palace maid hurried after her, helpless.
Tang Kexin followed as well. The Prime Minister's wife glanced at her, as though wanting to speak, but swallowed the words. Whatever she feared, it was too large to hide now.
A carriage was prepared, and they entered the palace.
---
A Palace Too Quiet
The journey was uneventful, but the palace itself felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Too watchful.
Even the palace maids stationed outside Kunning Palace were unfamiliar—faces Tang Kexin had never seen before.
Her unease deepened.
"Madam Prime Minister, this servant will announce your arrival," the palace maid said.
The Prime Minister's wife nodded, forcing composure.
The maid entered. A moment later, another palace maid emerged—one Tang Kexin had never seen before. The first maid did not return.
"Prime Minister's wife, Miss Tang—the Empress will see you now."
Tang Kexin's brows tightened.
This maid was not from the Empress's household.
And the Empress would never send away her own attendants without reason.
Something was terribly wrong.
Still, they entered.
---
A Room Filled With Silence
Inside, the Empress sat rigidly, her expression stiff, her posture unnaturally still. She did not rise to greet them. She did not smile. She did not speak.
Tang Kexin's heart sank.
This was not the Empress she knew.
And then—
A prickle ran down her spine.
Someone else was in the room.
Hidden.
Silent.
Breathing too quietly.
The aura was faint, expertly concealed—but unmistakable.
The Emperor.
Tang Kexin's pulse quickened. The Empress's fear suddenly made sense.
The Prime Minister's wife, unaware of the danger, rushed forward.
"Your Majesty, what is happening? Why would you marry Xin'er to the Third Prince? How could Xin'er possibly marry him? This cannot—this must not—"
Tang Kexin stiffened.
There was something in the Prime Minister's wife's voice—something that hinted at a deeper truth. Something she was about to reveal.
The Empress's eyes widened in alarm. She looked at the Prime Minister's wife with a silent plea—stop.
But she could not speak.
Not with the Emperor listening.
"Wanru, do not be hasty. This matter—"
The Empress tried to interrupt, her voice strained.
"How can I not be hasty?" the Prime Minister's wife cried. "You know very well that Xin'er and the Third Prince—"
Tang Kexin's breath caught.
The Empress's face had gone pale.
Her eyes were filled with fear.
The Prime Minister's wife was about to reveal something the Emperor must not hear.
Tang Kexin acted instantly.
"Mother—!"
Her body swayed dramatically, and she collapsed toward the floor.
"Xin'er!"
The Prime Minister's wife rushed to catch her.
The Empress hurried forward as well, panic flashing across her face.
"Xin'er, what is it?"
The Prime Minister's wife's voice shook with worry.
"I… I'm fine," Tang Kexin murmured weakly, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I suddenly felt dizzy…"
As she leaned into the Prime Minister's wife, her fingers tightened around the woman's hand.
And she wrote two quick characters against her palm:
There is Someone.
The Prime Minister's wife's eyes widened in understanding.
"Yes… yes, Xin'er is unwell," she said quickly. "I will take her back to rest."
They turned to leave—
But the inner chamber door slid open.
And the Emperor stepped out.
His expression was dark, his presence suffocating.
"Prime Minister's wife," he said coldly, "why can Tang Kexin not marry the Third Prince?"
The room fell into a silence so heavy it seemed to crush the air itself.
The trap had been sprung.
And there was no escape.
CHAPTER 158: YHE EMPEROR'S ULTIMATUM
The moment the Prime Minister's wife saw the Emperor emerge from the inner chamber, her entire body jolted. Her face drained of colour, her breath caught in her throat, and sheer panic flickered across her eyes.
She had not known he was there.
She had not even imagined he might be listening.
If Xin'er had not stopped her—if she had spoken one sentence more—everything would have been ruined.
But even now, the Prime Minister's wife knew the truth could not be hidden forever. She could not allow this marriage to proceed. She could not stand by and watch two siblings wed. The consequences would be catastrophic.
Her mind raced.
If she could not dissuade the Emperor, then she would confess everything herself. She would shoulder the blame. She would claim that her own child had died shortly after birth, and in her grief she had stolen the Empress's child while the Empress slept. She would say the Empress had borne twins. She would say the Empress knew nothing.
She would protect them both.
She drew a breath, ready to speak—
"Your Majesty," Tang Kexin said suddenly, dropping to her knees, "it is this humble girl who does not wish to marry His Highness."
Her voice cut cleanly through the air, silencing the Prime Minister's wife before she could utter a single dangerous word.
Tang Kexin had seen the terror in the Prime Minister's wife's eyes. She did not know the secret, but she knew enough: whatever the truth was, it would endanger both women if spoken aloud.
Better she take the blame herself.
Outside the chamber, the Third Prince had just stepped into the courtyard. He halted mid‑stride as her words reached him.
He stood motionless, his expression darkening, his eyes turning cold.
She had come all the way to the palace…
To beg the Emperor to annul their engagement?
She did not want to marry him.
How direct.
How bold.
"How interesting," he murmured under his breath, though his eyes were anything but amused.
Inside, the Emperor's gaze snapped to Tang Kexin, sharp as a blade.
"You do not wish to marry the Third Prince?"
His voice was no longer warm, no longer indulgent. It was cold, dangerous, threaded with warning. "Then give me a reason."
He had seen her interrupt the Prime Minister's wife once.
He had seen her do it again.
He knew she was hiding something.
Tang Kexin felt the danger coiling around him like smoke. She inhaled slowly.
"Because this humble girl does not like His Highness."
There was no point offering excuses. No point weaving polite lies. The Emperor would tear through them all. Better to speak plainly.
Her goal was not to escape the marriage.
Her goal was to protect the Empress and the Prime Minister's wife.
Outside, the Third Prince's eyes narrowed further.
She did not like him.
How very straightforward.
"Oh?" the Emperor said softly. "You do not like the Third Prince? Then tell me—whom do you like? I shall grant you to him immediately."
His words were deceptively calm, but the threat beneath them was unmistakable.
In the courtyard, the Third Prince's expression shifted.
If she dared to name another man…
He would drag her back himself.
She could dislike him for now.
He would allow that.
But he would never allow her to like someone else.
Tang Kexin froze. She had not expected the Emperor to say something so outrageous.
Marry whomever she liked?
Impossible.
A trap.
"I… have no one I like," she said quickly. "No one."
The Third Prince's lips curved faintly at that, though his eyes remained cold.
"Very well," the Emperor said. "Then prepare to marry the Third Prince."
His gaze slid to the Prime Minister's wife, sharp and probing.
She stiffened.
Tang Kexin opened her mouth to speak—
"If you truly do not wish to marry the Third Prince," the Emperor said suddenly, "I can annul the engagement."
The Prime Minister's wife and the Empress both brightened, hope flickering in their eyes.
But Tang Kexin did not relax.
She knew the Emperor too well.
He was not finished.
"I can grant you to the Crown Prince," he continued smoothly, "or perhaps the Second Prince."
Tang Kexin's heart dropped.
Of course.
A forced marriage, no matter the groom.
The Crown Prince?
The Second Prince?
Second Prince?
Tang Kexin blinked. She had never seen him. Never heard of him. Not even in the original Tang Kexin's memories.
"Now," the Emperor said, his voice tightening, "choose. Whom do you wish to marry? I shall grant it."
He was not only cornering her—
He was cornering the Prime Minister's wife.
Tang Kexin's lips twitched.
The Emperor was far too generous.
Offering her any prince she wished.
She wanted none of them.
And why, she wondered bitterly, was Ye Lanchen not among the choices? If there was a Crown Prince, a Second Prince, and a Third Prince, why not a Fourth?
But she could not ask that now.
The Prime Minister's wife's lips parted, but no words came.
"And understand this," the Emperor added, his tone turning icy, "if you refuse to marry, it will be considered defiance of an imperial decree."
Rebellion.
A crime punishable by death.
Tang Kexin's heart tightened.
"Xin'er," the Empress said softly, "the Third Prince is an excellent young man. Most importantly… he treats you well."
Tang Kexin blinked.
The Empress—who had opposed this marriage before—was now supporting it?
Why?
The Prime Minister's wife stared at the Empress in disbelief.
She knew the truth.
She knew why Xin'er could not marry the Third Prince.
Why would the Empress agree now?
But the Empress said nothing more.
She could not speak freely.
Not with the Emperor watching.
"Xin'er, let us return," the Prime Minister's wife said quietly. She understood the Empress's silent plea. She would not expose the truth today.
"Very well," Tang Kexin replied.
They bowed.
"Your Majesty, this humble wife takes her leave."
The Emperor did not stop them.
They stepped out of the chamber.
Tang Kexin had barely exhaled when she felt a cold, dangerous gaze upon her.
She looked up—
And met the Third Prince's eyes.
He stood in the courtyard, expression dark, aura sharp as a drawn blade.
He was staring directly at her.
And he was very, very angry.