Chapter 117
Chapter 117: Unruly in Conduct, Fond of Stirring Trouble
Mo Zhao Zhao froze for a moment, then came back to herself with a sigh, the corners of her lips curling into a helpless, bitter smile: “A’Yao, in this world, most men and women marry because their fates align and their temperaments suit, then walk hand in hand for the rest of their lives. As long as, after marriage, he is a competent husband and I am a competent wife, what does it matter whether we love each other or not? Is love really that important? How many couples truly marry for love? How many can be like Duke Ning and his wife, joined heart to heart, steadfast and faithful all their lives?”
Yun Wan Yao fell silent. Indeed, commoners often wed in arranged matches, while noble clans relied on parental betrothal. Once the match was set, the pair would be raised to foster affection, and when they came of age, marriage would follow naturally. It had always been this way; no one thought it wrong. Even she herself had become Mo Yuan Hao’s fiancée by a single decree from the late emperor, and had regarded him as her future husband ever since. How many people truly wed for love?
Yet she had still asked Mo Zhao Zhao whether she loved Lu Huai Jin. In hindsight, the question felt laughable.
Even after realizing this, Yun Wan Yao was unwilling to give up. She parted her lips to speak softly: “Princess, what you say is not wrong. But you are no ordinary person—you have the Emperor’s favor and Prince Qi’s indulgence. You are the most honored woman in Great Wu, and you have the right to choose. Why settle?”
“Settle? I wouldn’t call it that.” Mo Zhao Zhao shook her head and gave a faint smile. “A’Yao, you don’t truly understand my standard for choosing a consort. I am passive in matters of the heart. I don’t like to chase men; I only like those who like me. Whether Lu Huai Jin truly loves me or not, so long as he makes it seem as if he does, that is enough. I don’t care about his heart—I care about his actions. As long as, when he is with me, what he does brings me joy and happiness, that is enough. As for sincerity—who can guarantee how true it is? As long as I remain my royal brother’s most beloved princess, then even if he pretends to love me, he will have to pretend for a lifetime. And if he can pretend for a lifetime, how is that any different from it being real?”
Yun Wan Yao was shaken, her entire worldview rattled. She had never imagined Mo Zhao Zhao would think this way about marriage. I only like those who like me. If he can pretend for a lifetime, how is it different from the real thing? It sounded unbelievable, yet she had to admit there was logic in it. Wasn’t it, in its own way, a kind of clarity?
Only one problem remained—life was full of change. Give Lu Huai Jin a chance to fall for another woman, and he might dare to harm a princess of the realm. She could not simply watch the princess leap into a fire pit.
“Princess, I may not have understood your standard before, but I do now. Even so, though you’ve thought it through, I hope you will consider it again. I wish you a life free of worry, and that you may find true happiness.”
Mo Zhao Zhao nodded earnestly: “I know you mean well, A’Yao. I will think on it.”
That afternoon, Yun Wan Yao took her leave, and Mo Zhao Zhao personally walked her out. They lifted their skirts to board the carriage, waved to each other, and soon the carriage rolled away.
Only when it was out of sight did Mo Zhao Zhao blink her stinging eyes and turn back toward the residence. She dismissed the maids and sat upon the white jade railing beneath the plum trees, frowning as she pondered Yun Wan Yao’s words.
Lu Huai Jin—was he truly less sincere than Young Master Xie was toward Cousin A’Tang? How could that be? He treated her with such care, indulging her in everything. Yet A’Yao would not speak without cause.
Suddenly, a faint sound of rushing air came from behind. Her eyes flickered, but before she could turn, her body was lifted off the ground. Her feet left the floor, and the scenery reeled past in reverse.
Assassins!
Her eyes widened, and she tried to shout, but her throat seemed broken—her mouth opened wide, she strained with all her might, yet not a sound emerged.
To be seized within her own manor, with no guards in sight—her household guard was becoming more and more useless. And truly, this year was cursed. In so short a time she had been both attacked and abducted—what princess could be more unlucky?
She turned her head, trying to see her assailant, but he held her from behind; all she could see was a cloud-patterned robe of dark silk. Wait—this robe looked familiar. Before she could think further, she was carried into the Flying Pavilion in the garden, its corridors veiled in soft layers of gauze, a place like a fairy’s realm.
The jolting made her dizzy and queasy. As soon as she was set down, before she could recover, a hand gripped her chin and tilted her face up. A dangerous, devilishly handsome visage filled her sight, dark eyes narrowed, brimming with a chilling ferocity.
“Yun Wan Ye, are you insane? Let me go!”
Recognizing her “assassin,” she erupted in fury, slapping at his hand and shouting. Realizing she could speak again, she immediately launched into a barrage: “And this is my Princess manor—you have no right to enter at will! Do you want to die? If so, I can oblige you…” She struggled to pry his hand away; his grip wasn’t harsh, yet she couldn’t break free.
“Rest assured, Princess—if the day comes when I am to die, I’ll be sure to take you with me.”
Her chest clenched. This wretch—he’d drag her into the grave? For what reason? What debt did she owe him, to earn such hatred?
Eyes stinging, she sneered: “You think you’re worthy to take me with you?”
“Worthy or not, you can find out for yourself.”
Madman. Impossible to reason with. How ridiculous to argue with such a man—it was nothing but wasted breath.
She clenched her fists. “What do you want?”
“What I want—is it something I can simply take?”
“Shut up. And stop calling yourself ‘this subject.’ You have no respect for me—how dare you use that title?”
He obliged easily: “What I want—is it something I can simply take?”
She ground her teeth. “Speak!”
He looked so much like A’Yao, yet his nature was worlds apart. A’Yao was bright and warm, as gentle as a lotus after rain. But this one was mad, wicked, stubborn, and quarrelsome—thoroughly infuriating.
“I hear that aside from this face, the rest of me is everything you despise. Is that true?”
What “I hear”? A’Yao had only just left—when had he the time to hear anything?
“You eavesdropped? Do you have no basic decency?” And how had he entered so early without her guards noticing?
He scoffed: “Decency? What use is that? Can it win me the one I love?”
She wanted to curse him but faltered, then snapped her mouth shut.
“What was that? ‘Simply…’ what?” he pressed, smirking.
She turned away in disdain.
“Don’t dodge. I want a true answer—no pretending you didn’t hear, no refusing to reply.”
She rolled her eyes inwardly and stayed silent.
“Still won’t speak? Then perhaps I’ll find another use for that mouth.”
He leaned in; his breath brushed her cheek, his lips almost touching hers. She jerked back, mind in chaos. “You—you—what are you doing? Stay away…”
“What am I doing? Trying another use.” His low voice was edged with danger.
Another use? What nonsense was this? She panicked. “You—what did you ask before? I’ll answer—”
“Too late.”
He closed the small distance, brushing his lips lightly over her own.
Lightning cracked through her mind; her eyes flew wide, her face flushing scarlet. She shoved him, managing to push him back a little. “Shameless, lecherous… scoundrel!” She scrubbed at her lips with her sleeve, glaring like a startled rabbit.
He smiled faintly. “Is that all? Any other names you’d like to call me?”
“Shameless, brazen, filthy rogue, degenerate—”
“Go on.”
Go on your head!—No, wait, his sister was A’Yao; she couldn’t curse A’Yao. She clamped her hand over her mouth.
“Done? Then it’s my turn.”
She glared. “Your turn? To insult me?” If he dared—
“Not that.” His smile turned mild.
“Then what?”
“To ask, Princess—how does it feel, being kissed by the man you claim to despise most?”
“Don’t talk nonsense—” She clapped a hand over his mouth, looking around in panic lest anyone overhear. She had a betrothal—if he wanted infamy, he shouldn’t drag her down with him.
Heat and a teasing tingle spread into her palm, and she snapped her gaze to him in fury. “What’s wrong with you today—possessed by a ghost?”
“Didn’t you say I was mad? Then I’ll show you madness—it wouldn’t do to bear the name for nothing.”
She stared at him, aghast. He really is mad.
“Yun Wan Ye, do you even know what you’re saying?”—No, what you’re doing?
“I know. I’m mad, not stupid.”
She was at a loss for words. The whirlwind of his sudden madness left her reeling.
“Why so quiet, Princess? Hoping for another kiss?” he murmured, voice deep and smooth at her ear.
She jerked her head up, eyes red. He faltered, something seizing in his chest. Was one kiss enough to hurt her so much? Did she feel shamed?
“Yun Wan Ye, do you find it amusing to toy with me?” she asked hoarsely, tears bright in her eyes.
He shook his head without thinking. “No.”
But she misunderstood. A tear slid down her cheek. “If it’s not amusing, why do it? Yes, I said something to A’Yao that hurt your pride, but I spoke the truth. If you can’t bear the truth, that’s your problem, not mine. Why toy with me?”
The tenderness and guilt in him evaporated, replaced by a cold, dark fury. “The truth? So you truly do despise me? Is that it?”