CHAPTER 195 — SUCH PUNISHMENT
The intruder moved like a shadow — silent, fluid, almost unreal. Not a single floorboard creaked beneath his feet. Not a whisper of fabric betrayed his presence.
Tang Kexin, exhausted from days of running and fear, slept deeply, utterly unaware.
"You sleep well," a low voice murmured.
The words were soft, but the tone carried a suppressed storm — frustration, longing, something dangerously close to tenderness. In the darkness, Ye Lanjue stood over her, his gaze burning with a mixture of anger and aching affection.
Before he could stop himself, he climbed onto the bed.
He pressed her down immediately, pinning her beneath him with a swift, practised movement. He couldn't risk her waking and bolting again. During the day, he could force himself to pretend — to act indifferent, to hide the truth — but at night?
At night, he couldn't restrain himself.
He wanted to hold her.
He wanted to kiss her.
He wanted far, far more.
And so, in the end, he had come.
Tang Kexin didn't stir. He had sealed her acupoint earlier; she couldn't wake even if she wanted to.
He removed his shoes, shrugged off his outer robe, and slipped beneath the blanket beside her.
Only then did he realise she was still fully dressed — the same bulky disguise she'd worn all day.
His expression darkened.
This woman…
He slid a hand around her waist — and paused. Her waist felt… thick. Padded. Wrapped in layers of cloth.
His mouth twitched.
How many things did she stuff under here?
Without hesitation, he began untying and removing the layers. She was his wife — his legitimate wife. Undressing her was hardly a crime. And she was asleep; she wouldn't know.
If she were awake, she'd probably kick him straight off the bed.
But she wasn't awake. And he couldn't let anyone else discover her identity. He had to protect her — even if she'd run from him.
He sighed inwardly.
He was the one who had spoken honestly to her, yet here he was, sulking like a wounded beast.
Still… at least tonight, he could hold her.
Once he'd stripped away the disguise, he finally felt a flicker of satisfaction. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.
She didn't react. She lay limp and warm against him, breathing softly.
His hand rested on her waist — then began to wander.
He was a man, after all. A normal man. He felt nothing for other women, no matter how beautiful or seductive they were. But this woman — his wife — ignited something in him he couldn't control.
He remembered the madness of their wedding night.
The heat.
The desperation.
The way she'd clung to him.
His breath grew uneven.
He had been exhausted that night, and he'd let her go. He hadn't expected her to vanish the next morning.
Now she was here, in his arms, asleep — and he couldn't touch her. Not properly. Not the way he wanted.
He could only endure.
He let out a frustrated breath.
If he couldn't have her, he could at least kiss her.
If he couldn't even kiss his own wife, he might as well be dead.
He lowered his head and kissed her.
Her face was still covered in camouflage powder, rougher than usual, but he didn't care. His kiss was hungry, intense — and once he started, he couldn't stop.
One kiss became two.
Two became three.
Soon he was kissing down her neck, slow and deliberate, careful not to leave marks she'd notice in the morning.
It was torture.
Pure, exquisite torture.
He wanted her awake.
He wanted her responsive.
He wanted her beneath him, not lying there like a sleeping doll.
He considered, for one reckless moment, unsealing her acupoint.
If she woke…
If she looked at him with those eyes…
If she whispered his name…
He nearly lost control.
But reason — thin, fraying, but still present — held him back.
He couldn't. Not like this. Not while danger still lurked in the shadows.
He groaned softly, burying his face in her neck.
Why is my life so bitter?
He had married her.
She was in his arms.
And he still had to endure.
He kissed her again — harder this time, almost desperate.
He had never reacted to any woman before. No matter how beautiful, no matter how bold their attempts to seduce him, he had always remained cold.
But Tang Kexin destroyed his composure effortlessly.
He remembered the chaos of their wedding night — the way she'd driven him mad — and his body tightened painfully.
How long could he endure this?
"Ye Lanjue, you bastard."
The voice came from above his head — low, furious, unmistakably awake.
Ye Lanjue froze.
Every muscle in his body went rigid. His eyes widened slightly.
He had sealed her acupoint.
She shouldn't be awake.
She couldn't be awake.
And yet—
She was.
And she had caught him.
Now what?
———————————————-
CHAPTER 196 — A GUILTY CONSCIENCE AT BEING A THIEF
For the first time in his life, the dignified Third Prince felt… afraid.
Not of war.
Not of enemies.
Not of death.
But of the woman lying beneath him.
He hadn't done anything — not really. A few kisses, a few stolen touches, a few moments of madness. But now that she'd suddenly spoken, his heart lurched with a guilt he refused to acknowledge.
She had woken.
She had definitely woken.
And she had called him a bastard.
Ye Lanjue's scalp tingled as he stared at the faint red marks he'd left on her skin. If she opened her eyes now… if she realised what he'd been doing…
He swallowed.
He lifted his head slowly, bracing himself for fury, for a slap, for a knee to the ribs.
But Tang Kexin lay perfectly still.
Her breathing was soft and even.
Her eyes remained closed.
Her expression was peaceful.
She hadn't woken at all.
Ye Lanjue blinked.
What?
He leaned closer, studying her face. No tension. No awareness. No anger. She was deeply asleep — exactly as she should be.
Then what was that voice?
He had heard it clearly.
He was certain.
She had cursed him — vividly, passionately — just moments ago.
But she hadn't moved.
She hadn't opened her eyes.
She hadn't even twitched.
A dream?
The corner of his mouth twitched.
She hates me so much she scolds me in her sleep?
He should have been offended.
He should have been furious.
Instead, a slow smile spread across his lips.
She dreamt of him.
Even if she dreamt of him as a villain, she was still dreaming of him. He occupied her thoughts — even in sleep. That was enough.
His smile deepened, warm and wicked.
But he didn't dare touch her again. Not even a kiss. Not after that scare. If she woke properly, she'd probably kill him.
And besides — kissing her without being able to do anything more was torture. Pure, exquisite torture.
He shifted onto his side and pulled her gently into his arms. He didn't move again. He simply held her, breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth of her body against his.
He was exhausted.
He had spent days searching for her, nights without sleep, mind in turmoil.
Now, with her in his arms, he finally allowed himself to rest.
He fell asleep almost instantly.
---
Elsewhere, in the Northern King's residence, Lei Ying knelt before his master, voice tight with urgency.
"Master, the Princess has been taken back to Rui's Mansion by the Third Prince."
The Northern King paused, then let out a soft, amused breath. "His speed is impressive."
Lie Ying stared at him, bewildered.
Impressive?
Is that all?
"Master… aren't you worried for the Princess' safety?" he blurted out.
The Northern King gave him a long, pointed look. "You believe that if Ye Lanjue has taken her back, she is the one who will suffer?"
"Isn't she?" the shadow guard asked, genuinely confused. "Who else would it be?"
He had seen Ye Lanjue's madness these past days — the frantic search, the sleepless nights, the fury. A man only behaved like that for one reason.
He cared.
Deeply.
The Northern King's lips curved faintly. "Have men protect her from the shadows. Do not reveal yourselves."
Lei Ying exhaled in relief. "Yes, Master."
He would guard her with his life if needed.
The Northern King's gaze darkened. "She hid herself well. Ye Lanjue should not have found her so quickly."
Lei Ying stiffened. He hesitated — then confessed.
"This subordinate feared for the Princess' safety… so I ordered someone to follow her secretly. The Third Prince must have followed our men and discovered her."
Silence.
"You should be grateful it was Ye Lanjue who found you," the Northern King said quietly.
Fierce Eagle bowed his head. "This subordinate accepts punishment."
"Go."
The Northern King watched him leave, eyes distant.
Tang Kexin's abilities were extraordinary. Ye Lanjue had searched for days and still failed to find her. If not for the Northern Kingdom's interference, she would have remained hidden longer.
But at least Ye Lanjue had found her — not the other force lurking in the shadows. If they had found her first, she would be in grave danger.
Now, he could only wait and see whether Ye Lanjue was capable of protecting her.
---
In the Prince's Mansion, dawn crept across the sky.
Ye Lanjue woke first.
He dressed quickly, then — with surprising care — dressed Tang Kexin as well, making sure her disguise looked untouched. He even tidied her hair, smoothing it into place.
Only then did he slip out of the bed.
Before leaving, he pressed her sleeping acupoint again — just in case — and vanished from the room.
Moments later, Tang Kexin stirred.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
Her brows knitted faintly.
Something felt… wrong.
She touched her lips.
They tingled.
They felt swollen.
They felt… kissed.
Her eyes snapped open.
Last night — she'd dreamt of someone undressing her, kissing her, touching her.
A dream that had felt far too real.
Tang Kexin sat bolt upright, heart hammering.
No. No, no, no — that wasn't a dream, was it?