CHAPTER 169: A KISS CLAIMED BEFORE THE VOWS
Ye Lanchen and Nangong Yi were already waiting outside the Third Prince's Mansion when the bridal procession arrived. Beside Ye Lanchen sat another man—pale, composed, and seated in a wheelchair.
Tang Kexin's gaze drifted toward him, and her heart gave a faint jolt.
If she was not mistaken, that must be the Second Prince.
She had heard the stories.
Years ago, a fire had ravaged part of the palace. Many had perished, unable to escape the inferno. The Second Prince's mother had been consumed by the flames, and though he had been rescued, his legs had been irreparably damaged. Since then, he had been confined to a wheelchair, unable to stand or walk.
He rarely appeared in public.
For him to show himself today—on her wedding day—was extraordinary.
From afar, his features were indistinct. But as the sedan approached, she felt an inexplicable sense of ethereal detachment emanating from him, as though he existed slightly apart from the mortal world.
Before she could study him further, Ye Lanjue had already dismounted. He strode to the bridal sedan, lifted the curtain, and—without hesitation—swept her into his arms once more.
Tang Kexin blinked at him, half‑amused.
"Is Your Highness not afraid the Lord of Phoenix City will grow jealous?" she murmured, her tone teasing.
Ye Lanjue shot her a look—half exasperation, half something darker—but did not answer. His lips twitched faintly, as though suppressing a laugh or a curse.
This girl was far too deeply poisoned by her own misunderstanding.
Soon enough, she would learn the truth.
Tang Kexin, however, remained blissfully unaware. She smiled lightly, thinking he was merely acting for appearances, lest Nangong Yi misunderstand.
As they approached the gates, her gaze drifted again—this time meeting the Second Prince's face clearly for the first time.
She froze.
She had thought Nangong Yi was beautiful.
But this man—this prince—was something else entirely.
His beauty was not seductive or demonic like Nangong Yi's.
It was pure.
Unblemished.
Otherworldly.
He looked like an immortal descended to earth, serene and dreamlike, untouched by worldly dust. Even seated in a wheelchair, he radiated a quiet dignity that made the world around him seem dimmer.
For a fleeting moment, Tang Kexin wondered if he might be a woman in disguise. But no—his bearing, his aura, the subtle strength in his posture—he was unmistakably male.
The Second Prince lifted his gaze.
Their eyes met.
And he smiled.
It was a smile as gentle as drifting clouds, as clear as flowing water—soft, warm, and impossibly soothing. It slipped past her defences and settled somewhere deep within her chest.
Tang Kexin found herself smiling back, instinctively, almost shyly.
Her smile was radiant—so radiant that the Second Prince's heart faltered.
But Ye Lanjue saw it.
His expression darkened instantly.
On their wedding day, while she was in his arms, she dared to exchange smiles with another man?
Before she could react, Ye Lanjue lowered his head and kissed her—hard.
Her lips had been slightly parted from her smile, making it far too easy for him to claim her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss.
Tang Kexin's mind went blank.
Has he gone mad?!
He kissed her—here—before the entire capital?
They weren't even truly married yet!
And their marriage was supposed to be fake!
The crowd gasped—then erupted into cheers.
"Waaah—waaah—!"
Ye Lanjue finally lifted his head, releasing her lips. Her mouth was flushed, slightly swollen from his kiss. His eyes darkened at the sight, desire flickering dangerously.
He wanted nothing more than to carry her straight into the bridal chamber.
But propriety demanded patience.
"You—you're insane!" Tang Kexin stammered, breathless. She could not tell whether her voice trembled from shock or from the kiss itself.
"Yes," he murmured, voice low and rough. "This king is going mad."
He was.
He truly was.
Just holding her like this was enough to unravel every shred of restraint he possessed.
Tang Kexin, still dazed, suddenly noticed Nangong Yi standing nearby—staring at them with a complicated expression, equal parts shock, resentment, and disbelief.
"Your Highness," she whispered to Ye Lanjue, "you're acting too well. Be careful—someone might not let you in tonight."
Her tone was mischievous.
Nangong Yi looked genuinely jealous.
Ye Lanjue's lips curved.
"Is that so?" he replied lazily.
Whether Nangong Yi let him in or not was irrelevant.
The only room he intended to enter tonight was hers.
Tang Kexin, misreading his calmness, continued teasing.
"Look at the grievance in Lord Nangong's eyes. Can Your Highness bear it?"
"Mm," Ye Lanjue replied vaguely.
Bear it?
He could not care less.
Nangong Yi could die of heartbreak for all he cared.
The only person he could not bear to lose was the woman in his arms—though she had no idea.
Her delighted little smirk made something twist sharply in his chest.
She truly did not care for him at all.
Damn woman.
He would deal with her tonight.
"The bride is here! Prepare for the ceremony!" the attendants cried as they entered the courtyard.
Tang Kexin exhaled softly.
Just like that—
she was marrying Ye Lanjue.
A fake marriage.
A temporary arrangement.
Yet the weight of the moment pressed upon her all the same.
Inside the hall, the Empress rose to her feet, eyes shining with emotion. She seemed ready to rush forward and embrace Tang Kexin, but caught herself at the last moment. Still, her gaze clung to the girl with unmistakable affection.
The Emperor sat at the centre, his expression warm, a faint smile on his lips. He was clearly in excellent spirits.
"I did not expect Jue'er to fetch his bride personally," he teased lightly.
The Empress's smile deepened.
The Third Prince truly cherished Xin'er.
Her heart eased.
"The hour is auspicious!" the master of ceremonies announced.
"The bride and groom shall bow to Heaven and Earth!"
And so the ceremony began.
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CHAPTER 170: THE CEREMONY OF BOWS
The moment the master of ceremonies announced the beginning of the rites, Tang Kexin felt her entire body stiffen.
A strange flutter of nerves rose within her—unexpected, unwelcome.
It was a fake marriage.
A performance.
There was nothing to fear.
And yet her heart beat a fraction too fast.
Ye Lanjue, still holding her securely in his arms, noticed at once. His gaze softened, and he leaned close enough that his breath brushed her ear.
"What is it?" he murmured. "Are you nervous?"
It was absurd.
She was not a woman easily shaken.
She had faced danger, deception, and death without flinching.
But now—standing on the threshold of a marriage she herself had proposed—her composure wavered.
"Not particularly," she replied, forcing a small smile. "It's only a ceremony."
Ye Lanjue said nothing, but a faint gleam warmed the depths of his eyes.
Perhaps she did not care for him entirely—but she cared a little.
Enough to be unsettled.
And that, to him, was a promising sign.
"Third Brother," Ye Lanchen called lightly, "we are about to begin. Are you planning to hold her through the entire ceremony?"
His tone was teasing, but beneath it lay a weariness that had not been there before. He had vanished after the Emperor's marriage decree and had not been seen for days. Only today—his older brother's wedding—had he emerged.
Ye Lanjue glanced at him briefly, then at Tang Kexin. She quickly lowered her gaze, hiding the flicker of emotion in her eyes. Even so, she could not hide her beauty—radiant, luminous, impossible to ignore.
"Indeed," Nangong Yi added with a smirk, "must you be so intimate?"
Ye Lanjue's eyes narrowed, a silent warning flashing toward him.
Nangong Yi, however, only grinned wider.
Tang Kexin, oblivious to the undercurrents, assumed Nangong Yi was simply jealous and thought nothing more of it.
At last, Ye Lanjue set her down—but only to take her hand firmly in his own and lead her forward. His grip was warm, steady, and far too possessive.
Tang Kexin blinked.
He was being… unusually proactive.
"The ceremony begins," the master of ceremonies declared.
"First bow—to Heaven and Earth!"
Tang Kexin exhaled quietly.
All she needed to do was follow Ye Lanjue's lead.
And he was unexpectedly attentive—guiding her through each movement with a gentleness she had never imagined him capable of.
"Second bow—to the ancestral hall!"
They moved before the Emperor and Empress.
The Empress, who had been barely containing her emotions, rose instinctively as Tang Kexin approached. Her eyes shone with such fierce affection that she nearly stepped forward to embrace her.
She caught herself at the last moment, but her lips trembled, and her gaze clung to Tang Kexin as though she could not bear to look away.
To witness her child's marriage—
to stand present at such a moment—
was a blessing she had never dared hope for.
Outside the hall, hidden in the shadows, the Northern King watched in silence.
"Master… the Princess is truly being married," Lie Ying whispered, unable to contain his agitation.
The Northern King's lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained fixed on the Empress.
"Yes."
He was watching Tang Kexin—
but in truth, he was watching her.
Seeing the Empress's joy eased something deep within him.
Yet seeing her seated beside the Emperor—so close, yet so impossibly distant—twisted a knife in his heart.
"Master," Lie Ying muttered, "does it not trouble you to see the Princess bowing to others? This marriage is false. The Third Prince is deceiving her. And yet you allow it."
"You seem far more troubled than I," the Northern King replied quietly.
If Xin'er was happy—
if the Empress was safe—
then everything else was secondary.
"But, Master," Fierce Eagle pressed, "what if the Third Princess intends to consummate the marriage? Should we intervene?"
At last, the Northern King turned his gaze upon him.
"If my daughter cries for help," he said calmly, "you may intervene. If she does not… then you will remain where you are."
The fierced guard stared at him, stunned.
Only if she cried for help?
What kind of instruction was that?
"Remember," the Northern King added, voice low and firm, "unless she calls out, you will not interfere—no matter what happens."
The guard swallowed hard.
He did not understand.
But he obeyed.
Inside the hall—
"Husband and wife bow to each other!"
Ye Lanjue turned Tang Kexin to face him. His eyes gleamed with warmth, mischief, and something deeper—something she could not name.
Tang Kexin suddenly noticed Nangong Yi standing behind her.
Remembering her own assumptions about the two men, she instinctively stepped aside, positioning Ye Lanjue directly opposite Nangong Yi.
Ye Lanjue's expression darkened instantly.
What on earth was going through this woman's mind?
This was their moment.
Their bow.
Their marriage.
And she was arranging him to face another man?
He exhaled sharply, seized her waist, and pulled her firmly back into place.
Tang Kexin blinked at him, puzzled.
Was she not helping him avoid awkwardness with Nangong Yi?
Apparently not.
"Bow," Ye Lanjue said, voice low and edged with suppressed frustration.
Tang Kexin bowed obediently.
She had been acting with him all along—yet he was taking this so seriously.
"The rites are complete!" the master of ceremonies announced.
"Escort the bride to the bridal chamber!"
Laughter rippled through the hall.
The Empress's eyes glistened with pride and worry.
The Emperor smiled broadly.
Tang Kexin exhaled in relief.
It was over.
The ceremony was complete.
Now they would return to their rooms.
And of course—
the Third Prince would not come to her chamber.
He would go to Nangong Yi.
And she—finally—would be free.