"My lord, what are you doing...?" Zhang Bingzhi's gaze quickly swept around the spacious carriage—
Song Ting leaned against the car with an unpleasant expression, looking annoyed that her good time had been interrupted.
The woman in red was held in his arms, her back to the carriage, and apart from a section of her fair and slender neck, nothing else could be seen.
Zhang Bingzhi narrowed his eyes and then revealed an apologetic expression: "I was being presumptuous, please forgive me, Lord Song."
Song Ting's expression did not soften; instead, it grew even more somber.
"I wonder what important matter Your Excellency has that requires you to seek me out at this hour?"
"It's nothing serious, but Consort Chen seems to have suffered from heatstroke and is feeling unwell," Zhang Bingzhi said.
These ladies were all delicate and precious, so it was indeed quite difficult for them to travel in such weather.
These past few days, every day, this concubine or that beauty has been complaining about how hard and tiring it is.
However, such matters only require consulting the imperial physician and do not need to be handled by Song Ting.
This old fox was clearly using this incident to test him. More accurately, he was testing Chu Huaixu's identity.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have lifted the curtain of Song Ting's carriage without his consent.
Zhang Bingzhi used such a clumsy excuse and acted so blatantly, showing that he was not worried at all about Song Ting discovering his intentions.
This can be described as a blatant provocation.
The two have been at odds for years, openly and secretly sabotaging each other. Song Ting knew that the old fox had always wanted to pull him down from his current position.
—A dog that I raised back then gained wealth and status through my efforts, but it was not satisfied with that and even climbed over my head. No one could tolerate that.
But Song Ting also wanted the other dead. However, neither of them had a way to bring the other down in one fell swoop, so they could only keep each other in check.
But once Huai Xu's identity is confirmed, this balance of power will be broken.
"I understand, but I am not skilled in medicine. It would be better to consult the imperial physician for such matters. What does Your Excellency think?"
Zhang Bingzhi smiled.
"Does Your Excellency have anything else to discuss?"
Zhang Bingzhi smiled and said, "Only this one."
"Then, Grand Secretary—"
"Then this old man will not disturb your good mood any longer, sir," Zhang Bingzhi said, bowing before Song Ting could speak.
The beaded curtain fell, and Zhang Bingzhi's voice slowly faded into the distance. Song Ting loosened her embrace and kissed Chu Huaixu's face through the silver mask.
"It's alright now."
Chu Huaixu, however, still gripped his arm tightly. Song Ting knew that he was filled with hatred, resentment, and perhaps even a little fear.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here."
As Song Ting kissed him again, he half-raised his eyes, and his eyes, which always held a hint of reproach and resentment, flashed with undisguised, deep hatred:
"Don't touch me."
Song Ting was stung by that look, and her kissing motion truly stopped.
At that moment, Chu Huaixu lowered his head and fiercely scooped up his Hou Jie.
Yachi forcefully pierced the skin, and the taste of blood instantly filled her mouth.
Song Ting subconsciously tensed her neck, feeling as if a piece of her flesh was about to be bitten off.
Chu Huaixu did indeed harbor such thoughts. His enemy was right before his eyes, yet he was unable to take revenge, and he couldn't even show his face to the enemy. How could he be content with that?
An unventable anger and resentment bound him like heavy shackles, tightening around his neck, making even breathing difficult.
“It won’t be long.” Song Ting endured the excruciating pain and gently stroked his back, her eyes deep and serious. “I will make you take his head to offer as a sacrifice to the Prince and Princess.”
“And you,” Chu Huaixu gritted his teeth, “you all deserve to go to hell.”
Song Ting clenched her fists tightly, suppressing her emotions, and said, "Fine, whatever you say."
At Shenshi (3-5 PM), the imperial carriage arrived at the Weizhong Palace. The Empress Dowager and the concubines went to rest. Song Ting led the Imperial Guards to patrol the palace. After confirming that there was nothing unusual, he also went back to rest.
From afar, one could see candlelight burning in the room, and a figure leaning against the bed, wiping something with their head down.
Song Ting pushed the door open and went in. The person looked up, glanced at him expressionlessly, and then continued doing his own thing.
He was wiping the cloud-patterned dagger.
This sharp blade had been hidden by Song Ting, but on that enchanting night at the Song residence, it returned to Chu Huaixu's hands.
"Why aren't you asleep yet?" Song Ting walked over gently.
Chu Huaixu lowered his head and casually replied, "I slept too much during the day, so I can't sleep now."
"Mm," Song Ting responded, sitting down at the table and pouring herself a cup of tea.
After finishing his tea in one gulp, he had just put the teacup back when a shadow suddenly fell over him. He looked up and met Chu Huaixu's frosty eyes.
The man sat on Song Ting, his hand holding a sharp dagger resting on Song Ting's thigh, and stared at him with a smile.
The warm breath, carrying the unique fragrance of the body, brushed against Song Ting's nose, like a beautiful dream on a summer night, making him unable to help but be mesmerized.
"Which room does Zhang Bingzhi live in?" Unfortunately, what came out of the beauty's mouth was a poisoned needle.
Fearing he might get cut by the dagger, Song Ting tried to take it from Chu Huaixu's hand, but the latter nimbly dodged it.
"Don't move!"
The blade struck Song Ting squarely between his thumb and forefinger, instantly creating a gash.
Blood soon began to flow from the wound.
Song Ting didn't care and went to take the knife again. "Be careful, don't hurt yourself."
This time, Chu Huaixu didn't dodge and cooperatively handed the dagger to him.
"grown ups."
He took Song Ting's injured hand in his arms, lowered his eyes, and kissed the bleeding wound.
Under Song Ting's astonished gaze, she gently, bit by bit, wiped the blood off his hands...
He always acted like a thorn in Song Ting's side, as if he wanted to prick her to death with all his thorns. It was rare to see him so docile.
Having just taken a shower, his long, wet hair hung down his sides, and he wore only a thin undergarment that clung to his back, revealing his slender, angular figure.
As she lowered her head, her shoulder blades twitched slightly, and one side of her collarbone dipped deeply, creating a remarkably beautiful curve.
A tiny red mole on her fair and smooth skin was like a bewitching curse, so alluring that Song Ting couldn't bear to look away.
Further down is a taut waistline.
In many intimate moments in the past, Song Ting would always find herself holding this spot, leaving her mark on it.
Every move this person makes, even an unconscious little gesture, can easily stir Song Ting's heart.
"grown ups."
“Song Ting.”
"Song Qingxiang".
Chu Huaixu's slightly aloof voice reached Song Ting's ears, gently and subtly seeping into his heart, taking root, sprouting, and growing wildly.
Song Ting watched with envy, and could no longer resist. She raised her hand to caress the man's right cheek and leaned down to kiss him.
Chu Huaixu turned his head slightly to avoid the kiss, which missed its mark. Song Ting's heart sank heavily.
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