Jiang Wanzhi, I miss you
"Wanzhi?" Zongzheng Zhaoran's worried voice rang in his ears, filled with obvious concern. Looking at her distraught appearance, the bitterness in his heart was quickly replaced by pity.
He reached out, wanting to help her up, but his fingertips paused just before touching her arm, and he simply held her arm protectively to the side.
Jiang Wanzhi suddenly came to her senses, as if she had been startled awake by his voice, or as if she had been frightened by the almost uncontrollable palpitations she had just experienced.
She subconsciously took a small step back, avoiding the area he might touch, a subtle movement carrying a sense of distance that she herself was unaware of.
"I...I'm fine." She lowered her eyes, her voice low and hoarse, weak as if she had just survived a disaster. "Thank you for seeing me out, Your Highness. I...I'll go back now."
She didn't even dare to look into Zongzheng Zhaoran's eyes anymore; the gentleness and understanding in them now made her feel incredibly pressured and guilty. She felt like a child who had done something wrong, wanting only to escape this unsettling scene as quickly as possible.
Before Zongzheng Zhaoran could respond, she turned around almost as if fleeing, leaving behind the suffocating embarrassment and the turmoil in her heart.
Zongzheng Zhaoran watched her hurried departure, his hand, which had been suspended in mid-air, slowly retracted and clenched into a fist. For the first time, a clear shadow fell over his gentle brows.
The return of his ninth brother, and Wan Zhi's obviously wavering and flustered reaction, made him clearly realize that the distance he thought he was gradually getting closer to was so fragile in the face of Zongzheng Hengyu's powerful presence.
…………
Jiang Wanzhi hurried back to her courtyard, slammed the door shut, leaned against the door, and gasped for breath, as if only in this way could she get a little oxygen.
Her heart was still pounding wildly in her chest, and Zongzheng Hengyu's cold, piercing eyes, which seemed to hold a storm within them, haunted her like a nightmare.
"He's angry... He must be angry..." This realization filled her with a strange panic, even overshadowing her previous grievances.
She knew that man's domineering and possessive nature all too well. The scene of her standing side by side with Prince Zhao at the gate of the mansion just now undoubtedly enraged him the very first moment of his triumphant return.
But... what could she do? He was the one who paraded around with Princess Beiyuan first, he was the one who spread those rumors of "marriage for peace" everywhere, making her the laughing stock of the entire capital! Is it only the magistrate who is allowed to set fires, but the common people who are not allowed to light lamps?
A surge of resentment and unwillingness welled up in her heart. She realized that no matter how many reasons she had, when she was truly facing Zongzheng Hengyu's anger, deep down she still harbored a trace of fear, and a trace of panic that she herself despised—a fear of being misunderstood and hated by him.
This complex and contradictory emotion almost tore her apart.
"Miss, what's wrong?" Chun Tao and Qiu Ju came over worriedly when they heard the commotion.
Jiang Wanzhi slid weakly to the ground, burying her face in her knees, her voice muffled and choked with sobs: "It's okay... let me be alone for a while."
That night, Jiang Wanzhi tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The image of Zongzheng Hengyu's cold and stern face and Zongzheng Zhaoran's gentle eyes alternated in her mind.
Sometimes it was that domineering and forceful kiss in the carriage, sometimes it was the relaxed and pleasant conversation in the teahouse, sometimes it was the cold look in Zongzheng Hengyu's eyes as he left, sometimes it was the meticulous care when Prince Zhao handed him candied fruit...
She slept very restlessly that night.
…………
The following day, before dawn, news came from the palace that His Majesty was hosting a banquet to welcome Prince Heng and the Northern Abyss delegation, and ordered officials of the third rank and above, as well as their families, to attend.
This imperial decree, like a death warrant, instantly brought Jiang Wanzhi to her senses. What was destined to happen could not be avoided.
Evening, Imperial Palace, Linde Hall.
The hall was brightly lit, and toasts were exchanged. As Jiang Wanzhi entered with her father, she immediately spotted the figure sitting in the most prominent position below the throne.
Zongzheng Hengyu changed into a black prince's robe with gold embroidery. The gold thread embroidery shone faintly in the candlelight, making his face appear even more stern and giving off a chilling aura that kept strangers at bay.
A little behind him sat a woman dressed in the magnificent palace attire of Beiyuan, her face veiled, revealing only a pair of bright, wildly beautiful eyes that curiously surveyed everything in the hall. That was Princess Muna Sha of Beiyuan.
Jiang Wanzhi's heart sank involuntarily. She forced herself to look away, found her seat, and tried to minimize her presence.
The banquet began with singing and dancing. The emperor lavished praise on Prince Heng and expressed goodwill towards the Northern Abyss delegation.
Princess Munasha was poised and elegant, occasionally exchanging words with the Emperor. Her clear, melodious voice, with its exotic charm, attracted many admiring glances. She seemed to make no attempt to conceal her attention towards Zongzheng Hengyu, her gaze frequently lingering on him.
Zongzheng Hengyu remained indifferent throughout, merely nodding slightly in response to the emperor's praise; he seemed completely oblivious to Munasha's gaze. His coldness contrasted sharply with Munasha's enthusiasm.
Jiang Wanzhi lost her appetite, feeling as if she were being pricked by needles from the faint, indistinct gazes that fell upon her, filled with pity or inquiry.
She could feel the cold gaze from the high seat, which occasionally pierced through the crowd like a precise arrow and landed on her, making her feel like she was sitting on pins and needles.
Midway through, she felt really stuffy, so she quietly left her seat and went to the garden corridor not far from the palace to get some fresh air.
The cool breeze of the spring night brushed her face, slightly dispelling the gloom in her heart. Leaning against a pillar, she gazed at the hazy palace lanterns in the distance, feeling utterly lost.
Zongzheng Hengyu had also left his seat at some point and was standing very close to her, close enough that she could smell the faint, cold scent of the northern winds and sand on him.
She turned stiffly, meeting his deep, cold eyes. He stood tall and straight like a pine tree, appearing even more aloof and cold in the moonlight.
"Your Highness." She lowered her eyes, her voice trembling slightly.
He didn't question them, but simply took a step forward, further shortening the already dangerous distance between them.
Jiang Wanzhi instinctively stepped back, but her back pressed against the cold pillar, leaving her nowhere to retreat. His shadow completely enveloped her, carrying an intense sense of oppression.
Zongzheng Hengyu raised his hand, his slender fingers gently lifting her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I am not here," he said, his voice low and steady, revealing neither joy nor anger, yet every word struck her heart. "You seem to be doing very well?"
His gaze was like the most precise ruler, measuring every expression on her face, not missing a single trace of panic or guilt.
Jiang Wanzhi's heart trembled. She wanted to explain, but she was stunned by the deep, almost consuming darkness in his eyes.
Suddenly, he bent down.
Without warning, without asking.
His kiss landed.
His lips carried the faint scent of alcohol, and his undeniable possessiveness left Jiang Wanzhi's mind blank. She could only feel his breath so close to hers and his unfathomable eyes that were always fixed on her.
I don't know how much time passed; it might have been just a moment, or it might have been a very long time.
He slowly pulled away from her lips, his fingertips still gently lifting her chin, his gaze fixed intently on her somewhat dazed eyes.
Jiang Wanzhi's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to leap out of her chest. The cool, forceful touch of his still lingered on her lips, mixed with a hint of refreshing wine.
She was trapped between his chest and the pillar, with nowhere to escape, and could only passively endure his penetrating gaze.
Zongzheng Hengyu's fingertips lightly caressed the delicate skin of her chin, a subtle movement that carried an almost lingering feeling that was inconsistent with his cold and hard appearance.
"Jiang Wanzhi," he called her by her full name, his tone still not exactly gentle, but carrying an immense weight, "Have you... thought of me these past few days?"
Jiang Wanzhi froze, looking up at him in disbelief. Had she thought about him? Those grievances, those anxieties, those stings caused by the rumors, and... those uncontrollable fragments of memories about him—was that considered "thinking"?
Her hesitation clearly touched a nerve in his body.
Zongzheng Hengyu's eyes darkened, and the fingers gripping her chin tightened slightly, forcing her closer to him. He lowered his head, his forehead almost touching hers, their hot breaths mingling, carrying a dangerous ambiguity.
"I..." Jiang Wanzhi opened her mouth, her throat dry and her mind in turmoil. The words of denial swirled on her tongue, but when she met the deep, dark current in his eyes, she couldn't utter a word.
Her silence and struggle seemed to be interpreted by him in a different way.
The darkness in Zongzheng Hengyu's eyes surged even more intensely, revealing a long-suppressed, burning jealousy and longing.
"It seems not." He tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a self-deprecating smile devoid of warmth, but his eyes grew even sharper. "So, you have the leisure to chat and laugh with others, is that it?"
“No…” Jiang Wanzhi retorted subconsciously, with a hint of anxiety at being wronged.
However, her rebuttal failed to calm him down; instead, it seemed to ignite the last fuse.
He suddenly leaned down again, this time with a force mixed with an intense longing and possessiveness that was impossible to ignore, severing all her unspoken explanations.
This kiss was deeper than before, with an irresistible force, as if to confirm her existence and erase all the uncertainty he had felt during his absence.
"Mmm..." Jiang Wanzhi was breathless from his kiss, her hands weakly pushing against his firm chest, her resistance pitifully weak.
She could clearly feel his rapid heartbeat and the surging emotions he suppressed beneath his cold exterior, emotions that were about to burst forth.
Just as she felt she was about to suffocate, Zongzheng Hengyu, panting, pulled away slightly with great difficulty, but his arms still held her waist tightly, imprisoning her in his embrace.
His lips brushed against her ear, his hot breath caressing her sensitive earlobe, and he whispered:
"Jiang Wanzhi, I miss you."
These straightforward words struck Jiang Wanzhi like a thunderclap. Simple, blunt, and devoid of any flowery language, they carried a unique and undeniable power, crashing heavily into her heart.
She froze, forgetting to struggle, forgetting to breathe, and could only lean blankly against his chest, feeling the violent rise and fall of his chest, and hearing the burning and real confession in his ear.
The aloof and cold-faced Prince Heng actually said... he missed her?
He lowered his head, his deep eyes appearing exceptionally profound in the moonlight, locking onto her somewhat dazed gaze.
"Jiang Wanzhi," he called her by her full name again, his tone returning to its usual calm, but beneath that calmness lay an undeniable seriousness, "that imperial decree, you... are you still willing?"
Jiang Wanzhi snapped back to her senses, her heart clenching as if an invisible hand had suddenly gripped it tightly!
Willing or not?
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