CHAPTER 201 — HIS HIGHNESS HAD CONFESSED
"It's written on her mind. Is there even a need to confirm it?"
Ye Lanjue's voice cut through the courtyard like a blade — cool, dismissive, and utterly unreasonable.
Tang Kexin nearly choked.
Mind‑reading? Really?
Only the Third Prince could say something so outrageous with such a straight face.
Imperial Concubine Ming's lips twitched. "Even if she's lying, what does that prove?"
But the Empress ignored her entirely. Her gaze fixed on Noble Lady Ling, sharp and unyielding.
"Why did you come here?"
"I… I…" Noble Lady Ling stammered, eyes darting nervously around the courtyard. She looked terrified — and guilty.
The Empress's expression hardened. She could sense something was wrong.
"Everyone leave," she ordered. "The Third Prince and the doctor will remain. Imperial Concubine Ming may stay as well."
Tang Kexin's heart lurched.
Does the Empress recognise me?
She glanced at Ye Lanjue — and caught the faintest flicker of anger in his eyes.
He knew she was annoyed.
He knew she'd realised he'd recognised her long ago.
And he was still teasing her.
This man…
Ye Lanjue, of course, noticed her glare. He deliberately avoided looking at her, lips twitching faintly.
Better she be angry than indifferent.
The Empress turned back to Noble Lady Ling. "Speak."
Noble Lady Ling trembled. "Someone… someone told me they had a medicine that would make the Emperor fall in love with me. They told me to come here… to the lake…"
Her voice broke. She couldn't continue.
The Empress's face drained of colour.
"Empress, I only wanted His Majesty to visit my palace," Noble Lady Ling sobbed. "I didn't know it was a trap…"
Imperial Concubine Ming stiffened.
The Emperor… visiting other palaces?
Her expression darkened with resentment.
"What else did this person say?" the Empress asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"I didn't see them," Noble Lady Ling whispered. "They only told me to come here. To the lake. Alone."
Tang Kexin's brows knitted.
This wasn't a simple scheme.
Someone had orchestrated every detail — the timing, the location, the drowning, the revival.
Indeed. Someone wanted to test her.
The Empress exhaled slowly. "I will not report this to His Majesty. You may go."
Noble Lady Ling collapsed in relief. "Thank you, Your Majesty!"
Tang Kexin watched her leave, uneasy.
This was too neat.
Too convenient.
Too perfectly timed.
She would have to visit Ling Palace later.
The Empress rubbed her temples. "I am tired. You may all leave."
Imperial Concubine Ming bowed and left without protest — unusually subdued.
Ye Lanjue gave a curt nod. "As you wish."
The Empress walked away, her steps heavy. Tang Kexin could see the exhaustion in her shoulders — and something else.
Nineteen years of waiting.
Nineteen years of loyalty.
Nineteen years of disappointment.
Tang Kexin's chest tightened.
---
Outside the courtyard, she followed Ye Lanjue in silence.
Her mind churned.
What is he planning?
Is he waiting for me to confess?
Is he going to punish me later?
This man was too dangerous.
Too unpredictable.
Too clever.
And she still didn't regret running away.
He had lied to her.
He had deceived her.
And she hated deception more than anything.
Ye Lanjue walked ahead, feeling… guilty.
She had clearly realised he knew her identity.
But she hadn't confronted him.
She hadn't run.
She hadn't even argued.
Was she… disappointed?
This woman really won't shed tears until she sees the coffin.
"Tang Kexin."
His voice was low, strained.
Tang Kexin stopped. "What?"
Her tone was sharp, irritated.
He deserved it.
Ye Lanjue inhaled deeply.
"This King likes you."
Tang Kexin froze.
"This King is serious," he continued, voice steady but eyes betraying a flicker of vulnerability. "This King truly wishes to marry you."
Her mind went blank.
She had studied psychology — she could analyse trauma, decode behaviour, unravel complex emotions — but nothing had prepared her for a confession from the Third Prince.
Her heart thudded painfully.
Her breath caught.
Her thoughts scattered.
She shook her head instinctively, overwhelmed.
Ye Lanjue's eyes darkened. "What does that mean
Xin?"
"Huh?" she replied stupidly, startled by the sudden gentleness in his voice.
"Do you truly not wish to marry This King?" he asked softly, almost pitifully.
He was retreating to advance.
She could see it.
She knew it.
And yet…
She couldn't say yes.
She couldn't say no.
His expression — lonely, hopeful, fragile — made her chest ache.
"Xin?" he called again, voice trembling ever so slightly.
"No," she blurted.
Then immediately regretted it.
No? Why did I say no? What does no even mean?
Ye Lanjue's face lit up.
"Yes."
Tang Kexin stared. "Your Highness, I just meant— we should stop playing games."
"As long as you stop running," he said with a smile, "This King will behave."
She nearly choked.
Shameless. Absolutely shameless.
"It depends on my mood," she muttered.
His smile vanished.
But before he could respond, she stiffened.
"Wait."
Ye Lanjue tensed. "What's wrong?"
"Go to Noble Lady Ling's palace," she said urgently. "If someone orchestrated this, they won't leave loose ends. She's in danger."
Ye Lanjue's eyes sharpened instantly.
Without another word, he scooped her into his arms and sprinted toward Huaxin Palace.
Tang Kexin smelled it before she saw it — the metallic tang of blood.
Her stomach dropped.
Ye Lanjue smelled it too. His expression turned murderous.
They exchanged a single look — then rushed inside.
The scene before them made their blood run cold.
———————————————-
CHAPTER 202 — HIS HIGHNESS' JEALOUSY
The moment Tang Kexin and Ye Lanjue stepped into the chamber, the stench of blood hit them like a wall.
Noble Lady Ling lay sprawled across the bed, her body still warm, her skin flushed with the unmistakable traces of recent intimacy. Whoever had been with her had not been gentle. The marks on her thighs, her wrists, her chest — all of it painted a brutal picture.
But the wound on her neck was the most shocking.
A single, clean stab.
Deep.
Precise.
Instantly fatal.
The blood had barely begun to dry.
Tang Kexin's stomach tightened. This wasn't a crime of passion. This was execution.
She stepped closer, eyes scanning every inch of the body. Ye Lanjue moved silently around the room, searching for signs of the killer — footprints, disturbed dust, a lingering presence.
Tang Kexin lifted the quilt and brought it close to the wound. Faint red marks circled the skin — the beginnings of strangulation.
"They tried to choke her first," she murmured. "But we arrived too soon. They panicked and stabbed her instead."
Which meant the killer had been here moments ago.
Perhaps still nearby.
Ye Lanjue's expression darkened. He found nothing — no trace, no scent, no disturbance. Whoever had done this was skilled. Too skilled. They knew the palace well.
"Your Highness, let's check outside," Tang Kexin said quietly.
Ye Lanjue nodded. "Yes."
His voice was calm, but his eyes flickered with something else — satisfaction. She had called him "Your Highness" again. She had relied on him. She had remembered him.
They stepped out into the courtyard. Tang Kexin paused, then turned sharply toward a narrow stone path — one rarely used, half‑hidden by overgrown shrubs.
"The killer left this way," she said with certainty.
Ye Lanjue didn't question her. He followed.
The path led to a small, neglected courtyard. Dust coated the windows. The air smelled stale. No one had lived here for a long time.
Tang Kexin pushed the door open. Dust swirled in the air like ghosts rising from the floorboards.
She stepped inside — and froze.
A man sat not far away.
Elegant.
Serene.
Beautiful in a way that made the air feel warmer.
Ye Lanjue's second brother — the Second Prince, Ye Lanshi.
Tang Kexin stared, momentarily stunned. His presence was like a soft breeze in spring — gentle, soothing, almost unreal.
Ye Lanjue's jaw tightened.
He saw the way she looked at his brother — openly, curiously, without restraint — and jealousy surged through him like a punch to the gut.
If she weren't disguised as a man, he would have dragged her into his arms on the spot and declared her his.
The temperature in the room dropped.
Tang Kexin felt it immediately. She turned — and nearly flinched at the icy fury in Ye Lanjue's eyes.
He's jealous?
Of his own brother?
Her mind spun.
Why would he be jealous of her looking at another man?
"Royal Brother," Ye Lanjue said coldly.
Ye Lanshi looked up, his voice soft and warm. "Why is Third Brother here?"
His tone was gentle, almost fragile. His amber eyes — long, narrow, luminous — held a quiet loneliness that tugged at the heart.
Tang Kexin remembered seeing him only once before — on her wedding day. Even then, his smile had been gentle enough to melt stone.
But why was he here?
He rarely left his residence. His legs had been crippled in a fire when he was a child. He seldom appeared in public, let alone wandered the palace.
Before she could think further—
"Honourable Ling is dead!"
A maid's terrified cry echoed from the courtyard.
Ye Lanshi's expression flickered — shock, brief but genuine.
Tang Kexin caught it instantly.
Her training kicked in.
That reaction wasn't fake.
He hadn't known.
"Brother, shall we go see?" Ye Lanjue asked, voice unreadable.
Tang Kexin's eyes narrowed.
He was testing him.
"Let's go," Ye Lanshi said softly, closing his eyes for a moment as if steadying himself.
When they reached Noble Lady Ling's palace, chaos reigned. Servants cried. Guards shouted. The air was thick with fear.
Ye Lanshi instinctively pushed his wheelchair forward, wanting to enter — but Ye Lanjue blocked him with a hand.
Ye Lanshi froze, then lowered his gaze, realising the scene inside was not suitable for him.
Tang Kexin watched him closely.
His reactions were natural.
Unscripted.
Uncalculated.
He didn't know.
He wasn't involved.
Her gaze softened.
Ye Lanshi was… kind.
Gentle.
Warm in a way Ye Lanjue never was.
Ye Lanjue noticed her staring again.
His jealousy flared so sharply he nearly snapped the armrest of the wheelchair.
"What is your name?" Ye Lanshi asked a trembling maid.
"Xiao Hui, Your Highness," she whispered.
"How did your mistress die?" he asked gently.
"Her… her throat was cut," Xiao Hui stammered.
"What happened before that?"
Xiao Hui blushed, lowering her head. "She… she experienced the same thing as Imperial Concubine Ning."
Ye Lanshi's eyes widened.
He didn't speak — because at that moment, the Emperor arrived.
His face was thunderous.
"What happened?"
Two concubines dead in such a short time — someone was mocking him. Challenging him. Targeting the Empress.
"Father," Ye Lanshi said softly, bowing his head.
The Emperor barely acknowledged him. "How did she die?"
"Throat cut," Ye Lanjue replied bluntly.
"Did anyone see anything?" the Emperor demanded.
A maid collapsed to her knees. "This servant… this servant saw someone leave the room…"
Her trembling hand lifted — and pointed at Tang Kexin.
Tang Kexin didn't react.
She didn't need to.
Ye Lanjue stepped forward, voice like ice.
"Did you not see this King standing beside him?"
The maid's face drained of colour. "I… I did! I did!"
Tang Kexin exhaled quietly.
She had been right — the maid wasn't lying. She had simply been too terrified to point at a prince.
Tang Kexin's gaze slid to Ye Lanshi.
He hadn't moved.
Hadn't spoken.
Hadn't reacted.
He was lowering his presence deliberately — but not suspiciously.
"If there is nothing else, leave," the Emperor said, voice heavy with authority.
But as he turned to go, his gaze landed on Tang Kexin.
He paused.
His eyes narrowed.
And Tang Kexin felt a chill crawl down her spine.