Chapter 28: You're feigning weakness because you actually want to share joys and sorrows with me?

Just as the game reached its most crucial point, Fangru was pondering deeply, fiddling with a pebble, trying to break Zhou Ling's trap, when suddenly the dilapidated door of the woodshed creaked open from the outside.

The henchman who stole Fangru's jewelry yesterday, a man as burly as a bear, walked in carrying a worn-out wooden tray, a malicious grin on his face.

He threw the wooden tray heavily on the ground with a loud thud. Inside were only two chipped, rough porcelain bowls. One bowl contained two shriveled, blackened cornbread buns, while the other bowl contained a thin, clear bowl of so-called "vegetable soup" with almost no oil visible. The portion was pitifully small, probably not even enough to feed a half-grown child.

"Eat up, you two distinguished guests!" the henchman sneered gruffly. "Our temple is too small to serve you any delicacies!"

His gaze lingered particularly lewdly over Fangru's chest and slender waist, which rose and fell slightly as she played chess, and he chuckled twice before turning around, locking the door, and leaving.

Silence returned to the woodshed, with only the faint, unappetizing aroma of the meager food remaining.

Fangru's stomach rumbled loudly, much to her dismay.

She hasn't eaten a single grain of rice since yesterday and is already starving.

Looking at the food, she subconsciously swallowed, but her strong sense of pride made her turn her head away and continue staring at the chessboard, as if the lines were more attractive than the food.

Zhou Ling glanced at the food on the ground, then looked at Fang Ru, who was trying to remain calm but whose ears were slightly red, and his eyes darkened.

He didn't say anything, but simply pointed his fingertips and pushed the bowl of cornbread and the bowl of "clear soup" in front of Fangru.

"Eat." His voice was emotionless, indifferent.

Fangru stared at the rough porcelain bowl that had been pushed in front of her; the bland soup inside almost reflected her dazed expression.

She looked up abruptly, meeting Zhou Ling's unfathomable eyes, trying to find even the slightest hint of mockery or scheming.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was tense, though barely perceptible.

Zhou Ling had already withdrawn his gaze, casually tapping the chessboard with his fingertips. The spot was exactly where she had hesitated and ultimately given up. His tone was as calm as ever, even tinged with a familiar mockery: "Literal meaning. I'm not hungry, you eat. So that if you lose the game later, you won't have an excuse to say you're dizzy from hunger, needlessly spoiling my mood."

Look, he still has that arrogant, mean, and hateful attitude.

It was as if the act of giving him this small amount of food was merely to ensure that his own amusement would not be affected.

The absurd doubts and anxieties that had just begun to surface in Fangru's mind were instantly suppressed by this familiar feeling of suffocation.

Yes, he was once the emperor, his word deciding life and death. But that's all in the past! Now they are both prisoners, trapped in this drafty woodshed, the emperor's status as bland and powerless as a bowl of clear soup.

She had reincarnated several times, witnessing his majestic presence on his throne, and also glimpsing a fleeting, almost fragile loneliness in his deep eyes from a corner where no one could see her.

But what's the use of thinking about these things now? The hunger of reality is burning in her stomach, more real than any memory.

She deliberately snorted, pulling the bowl in front of her as if it weren't food but an enemy she needed to be on high alert. She refused to back down, saying, "Who asked you to give way! Who knows what 'ingredients' are added to the food Baiyang Association sends? You want me to eat first just to find a scapegoat to test the poison? I've seen that trick too many times!"

Her words were like pebbles thrown into a deep pool, trying to create ripples to cover up the unease she felt because of his sudden and awkward "concession".

Zhou Ling paused slightly with his fingers holding the chess piece, without even raising his eyelashes, and said in a calm and even voice: "If I wanted to test poison, there are plenty of rats in the woodshed."

"You!" Fangru was furious, glaring at his unmoved expression, her anger rising.

She hated him for this; no matter how pathetic his situation, he always managed to put on a condescending attitude.

She grabbed the dry-looking cornbread and said defiantly, "Fine! I'll eat it! If I get poisoned, I'll haunt you every day as a ghost, disturbing your peace for eternity!"

She took a vicious bite; the cornbread was hard and stung her throat, so the taste was far from pleasant.

She chewed with great effort, as if she were chewing his flesh.

Zhou Ling finally shifted his gaze from the chessboard to her puffed-out cheeks. After a moment, he gave a faint smile, so brief it was almost an illusion. "It seems the poison took effect very quickly."

Fangru was taken aback and didn't understand.

He pointed to her face, his tone still flat: "Your face is puffed up like a fist."

Fangru's face flushed instantly, and she swallowed the hard, dry cornbread in her mouth, almost choking.

"Zhou Ling!" she practically roared, disregarding all honorifics and titles, "You're the one who's a bastard! You were a toad in your past life!"

"Oh?" Zhou Ling seemed intrigued, looking at her leisurely. "I have no idea. Which lifetime it refers to?"

"The...!" Fangru slammed on the brakes, nearly biting her tongue.

Those cycles of reincarnation were her greatest secret and source of confidence; how could she easily mention them in front of him?

She abruptly changed the subject, pushing the remaining cornbread towards him, "It's awful! It might not kill you with poison, but it'll definitely choke you. Here, take it!"

Zhou Ling looked at her, who clearly felt sorry for the food but was still forcing herself to eat, and a very subtle ripple flashed in her eyes.

He didn't touch the cornbread, and pushed it back to her.

“Eat it yourself,” he said in a calm tone, with his usual mockery. “Gag yourself, and I’ll have some peace and quiet.”

Fangru was so angry at his words that she gritted her teeth. She picked up the remaining cornbread and took another bite: "I can eat it, but if I really get poisoned or choke to death, I'll come back on the seventh day after my death and sing opera in your ear right when you're sleeping! I'll sing that play 'Drunkenly Beating the Golden Branch' and keep you awake every night!"

Zhou Ling paused in his chess game, raising an eyebrow slightly: "'Drunkenly Beating the Golden Branch'? That's quite fitting. Unfortunately, with your voice, you'd probably only be able to 'drunkenly frighten wronged souls'."

"You!" Fangru choked on her words, her eyes wide with shock. "You think I'm too loud? When you used your vermilion pen to cut off thousands of heads, didn't you find it noisy then?"

“That’s the law of the land, so it’s naturally different.” Zhou Ling placed a piece on the board, his tone as relaxed as if he were discussing the weather. “Thunder and rain are both acts of imperial favor. You get used to the cries after a while.” He raised his eyes and slowly added, “They’re still more pleasant to hear than someone deliberately wailing and howling.”

Fangru almost wanted to pounce on him and strangle him. "Pleasant to the ear? I think you've been listening to too much flattery and your ears are ruined! No wonder in your past life..." She suddenly stopped, almost biting her tongue.

Zhou Ling's gaze suddenly sharpened, piercing her like needles: "How was your previous life?" He leaned forward slightly, and although they were in a prison cell, his imposing aura suddenly spread out. "Go on."

Fangru's heart skipped a beat, inwardly cursing herself for her slip of the tongue, but she refused to back down: "In your past life... in your past life you must have been deaf! That's why you're so annoying in this life!"

Zhou Ling stared at her for a moment, his sharp gaze seemingly trying to peel away all her pretense and see into the deepest secret in her heart.

Fangru was so nervous that her palms were sweating. She forced herself to meet his gaze, not daring to show the slightest fear.

After a long pause, he suddenly leaned back against the wall and sneered, "Avoiding the important issues. Fangru, your lying skills are worse than your chess skills."

"Who's lying!" Fangru exclaimed, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Whether I lied or not, you know in your heart." Zhou Ling stopped looking at her and tapped the chessboard with his fingertips. "It's your turn. If you lose this game, that bowl of soup is yours, and that squeaking mouse in the woodshed is yours too."

Fangru gasped, looking at the fat rat in the corner, and suddenly found the cornbread in her hand even harder to swallow.

"Zhou Ling! You're despicable!"

"Shh," Zhou Ling put his index finger to his lips, gesturing for silence, a wicked smile flashing in his eyes, "Keep your voice down. If you attract the food delivery person, the next meal might not even have this choking cornbread. Or... do you actually want to share the hardships with me and starve to death together?"

Fangru ground her teeth fiercely, wishing she could immediately slaughter him on the chessboard without leaving a single piece of his armor.

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his stomach betrayed him with a long, drawn-out rumble that was particularly loud in the quiet woodshed.

Zhou Ling's fingers, which were holding the chess piece, paused slightly. A faint smile appeared on his lips, but he deliberately avoided looking at her and said indifferently, "It seems that your stomach is already rumbling before the game even begins."

"Mind your own business!" Fangru retorted angrily, grabbing the steamed bun that was being pushed around. "I'll eat it! Once I'm full, I'll make you beg for mercy on your knees!"

She turned her back, trying to maintain the last shred of her dignity, but the moment the hard, dry cornbread entered her mouth, the intense hunger made her forget everything else.

She wolfed down her food, then choked and coughed, making quite a commotion.

Zhou Ling's gaze had shifted from the chessboard at some point and landed on her slightly disheveled back.

Watching her gently pound her chest as she choked, he subtly pushed the untouched bowl of soup beside him a little closer to her.

Fangru choked on the hard, dry cornbread, coughing until tears welled up in her eyes. Just as she was pounding her chest in discomfort, a rough porcelain bowl appeared in her line of sight. It was the same bowl of clear, watery soup that Zhou Ling hadn't touched.

The bowl was pushed silently, the movement so natural that it seemed as if it had just been moved unintentionally, stopping just within her reach.

The person pushing the bowl, however, kept his gaze fixed on the empty chessboard, showing no emotion whatsoever, as if this small action had nothing to do with him.

Fangru stopped pounding her chest.

She looked at the bowl of soup, then quickly glanced at Zhou Ling, who seemed to be in deep meditation. The awkwardness that had just been suppressed by the food suddenly resurfaced.

To drink or not to drink?

Drinking it seemed as if she had tacitly accepted his awkward "kindness," and even... felt indebted to him for his kindness.

Just moments ago he was confidently claiming he was finding a scapegoat to test the poison, but now he's drinking the soup he was given—this is a slap in the face that came too quickly.

Not drinking?

The feeling of something stuck in my throat was really uncomfortable, and that little bit of clear soup was as tempting as a spring in the desert.

The stupidest thing you can do is to be at odds with yourself.

In a flash, Fangru made her decision.

Almost defiantly, she grabbed the bowl, tilted her head back, and gulped it down.

The movements were exaggerated, deliberately making noise, as if this could cover up the inexplicable embarrassment and...the fact that the heart was slightly erratic behind the behavior.

The lukewarm liquid, with almost no oil or salt flavor, slid down my throat, instantly breaking through the dry, choking sensation and bringing a brief moment of comfort.

She put down the empty bowl, deliberately pursed her lips tightly, as if trying to erase all traces that weren't hers, and then bluntly uttered a sentence, attempting to pull the brief moment of "acceptance" back onto the track of confrontation:

"Hmph, looks like it's not poisonous. At least you still have some conscience, you didn't actually use me as a test subject."

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth.

This sounds... like someone who got a good deal but is now acting innocent? It even has a hint of... coquettishness?

She was startled by the word that popped into her head and felt a chill run down her spine. She immediately tensed up, grabbed the unfinished cornbread again, and took a vicious bite, refusing to look up at the side again.

Meanwhile, Zhou Ling's gaze shifted from the chessboard to her once again.

Watching her eat hastily and diligently like a starving little animal, her slender neck moving slightly with each swallow, the corners of her mouth stained with bits of food, and her cheeks flushed slightly from her hurried eating... Zhou Ling's gaze deepened, and his Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly.

That gaze was no longer that of a calm calculation on a chessboard, but rather carried something more complex and profound, like a silent, burning ember.

Fangru choked again, and after finally catching her breath, she looked up and met his gaze, which he hadn't had time to completely look away from.

That look made her heart skip a beat, and the embarrassment that had just subsided and that inexplicable heat surged up again.

She was instantly enraged, as if he had seen her at her most vulnerable. She immediately bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on: "What are you looking at! Haven't you ever seen someone eat before! Didn't you say you weren't hungry? Why are you staring at me? Regretting it now? It's too late, I've already finished eating!"

Faced with her barrage of questions, Zhou Ling did not get angry; instead, he smiled very lightly.

The laughter was low and breathy, yet it tickled the heart like a feather.

He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them, his gaze fixed on her lips, which looked somewhat adorable with the crumbs, and his voice was low, with a damnably alluring huskiness:

"Yes, I regret it."

Fangru was taken aback.

He continued slowly, with a hint of amusement in his sigh, "If I had known you were eating so...relished it, I should have snatched it from you earlier. Perhaps, even this coarse food could have some unique flavor?"

This statement was extremely ambiguous. It clearly referred to steamed buns, but the look and tone of the voice made it seem like it was saying something else entirely.

Fangru's face flushed bright red, and her heart pounded wildly.

She forced herself to remain calm, glaring back fiercely, trying to mask her heart palpitations with anger: "Zhou Ling! Stop spouting nonsense! Don't forget who you are!"—And don't forget mine! I'm not afraid of you!

"Identity?" Zhou Ling raised an eyebrow, his smile deepening as if he found her words incredibly amusing. "Here? Between you and me, what identity do we have? Are we prisoners and... another prisoner?"

He leaned in slightly again, so close that Fangru could feel the warmth emanating from beneath his clothes. His breath brushed against her ear, and his deep voice was extremely slow, each word carrying a subtle electric current that sent a tingling sensation deep into her heart:

"Or rather, just a man who... watches you choke, but can't even offer you a glass of water."

There was a barely perceptible hint of self-mockery and helplessness in his words. He wasn't defending himself; rather, he was stating a fact that even he found shameful. He was indeed imprisoned, unable to even provide the most basic care.

This rare, almost submissive candor is more impactful than any forceful rhetoric.

Fangru's prepared, barbed retort was instantly choked in her throat.

She opened her mouth, but found that she couldn't utter a single word.

She couldn't blame him.

As he said, they were all prisoners, and he had no power left to spare.

And this only portion of food he had saved for her was now truly warming her hungry stomach.

A more complex and surging heat swept over her, not only burning her cheeks red, but also making her heart swell and her fingertips curl slightly.

She abruptly lowered her head, avoiding his almost scorching gaze, her heart pounding like dense raindrops in the silent woodshed, clearly audible.