The rustling sound of hooves came faintly through the grass, growing closer bit by bit as more pursuers gathered behind them. The night was pitch-black, and Su Ruhan could only rely on his hearing to determine the direction and number of those chasing them.
The group of soldiers that Zheng Qingcang had initially ordered to block them was only a small portion, but it had been a great help to Su Ruhan. If he had been forced into battle right after leaving the palace, he might have exhausted himself before reaching his destination. Though those soldiers were not particularly skilled, if they swarmed him together, there was no way he could fend them all off alone. Moreover, with Mu Xueshi at his side, Su Ruhan had to ensure he remained close to him at all times, making escape even more difficult.
He could only press forward without pause. By his estimation, the elite troops sent by the Third Prince should be nearby. They had already entered a forest, where everything was shrouded in darkness. Leaves rustled in the wind, and Su Ruhan judged that the pursuing soldiers had been shaken off—perhaps they had encountered the Third Prince’s men and were now locked in a standoff.
Su Ruhan lifted Mu Xueshi off the horse, then leapt lightly onto a large tree nearby. The tree was lush and sturdy, its branches thick enough to hold both of them comfortably.
He tossed the whip in his hand downward. It landed squarely across the horse’s back with a sharp sound. The horse flicked its tail and trotted off into the distance, gradually disappearing from view.
Turning his head, Su Ruhan looked at Mu Xueshi and carefully released the acupoints one by one. Mu Xueshi’s stiff body slowly relaxed, and he leaned weakly against Su Ruhan, looking exhausted.
Using a silk handkerchief, Su Ruhan gently wiped away the pigments smeared across Mu Xueshi’s face, revealing the darkened complexion beneath. He couldn’t help but smile. Reaching out, he touched Mu Xueshi’s cheek—no longer smooth and soft, but rough like thick hide, as if his face were covered in calluses.
Fortunately, the poison hadn’t caused any real harm to Mu Xueshi. Still, seeing his face reduced to this state was a pity. Watching Mu Xueshi lie obediently in his arms, Su Ruhan felt his heart gradually calm.
As he rested in the tree, Su Ruhan thought things through. For now, they were safe—but the soldiers would certainly continue searching everywhere. The advantage of escaping at night was the darkness; it made it easy to slip out of sight, especially since the two of them were such small targets among hundreds of soldiers.
But there were risks as well. Shang Chuanhong and Hao Lin had likely anticipated that Su Ruhan would attempt an escape at night. There would surely be traps along the way. In the dark, it was easy to stumble into danger. For that reason, Su Ruhan decided to rest here for the night and wait until daylight before continuing toward their destination.
Meanwhile, the noise from Wenyang Palace gradually faded. Everyone had left, leaving only guards at the entrance and maids cleaning outside. Inside, Princess Wenyang sat alone, restless and uneasy.
She had never sat so still for an entire day—without speaking a word, barely even drinking water for fear of ruining her makeup. Her makeup alone had taken a full day to complete. The wedding dress she wore had been crafted by the finest embroiderers of Yunxi, taking half a month to finish. Every stitch had been measured with meticulous precision.
All of it was for that one moment—when the Third Prince would lift her veil and look upon her with admiration and love.
Clutching her robes tightly, Princess Wenyang waited as the outside noise finally died down. Yet instead of calming her, the silence only made her more anxious. She didn’t dare move, listening intently for the slightest sound, waiting for the door to open.
After nearly half an hour, her waist ached unbearably. Just as she was about to relax, the door creaked open. She immediately straightened her posture.
“Princess, the guests have all left. You may have something to eat now—you’ve been hungry for so long,” came Qingzhu’s voice.
Princess Wenyang felt her heart plunge into ice, only to be thrown into fire the next moment. Rage surged through her entire body.
“Who allowed you to enter?” she asked sharply.
Qingzhu answered cautiously, “Your Highness, no one summoned me. I came of my own accord.”
Princess Wenyang’s anger flared instantly. This maid was utterly brainless—she had not spoken a single pleasing word in the three days she’d been here. As expected of someone from Mu Xueshi’s side—wherever they went, they were nothing but irritating.
“Slap yourself twenty times,” Princess Wenyang ordered in a low voice, forcing herself not to shout.
At those words, tears welled up in Qingzhu’s eyes. One side of her face was already swollen like a bun, making it painful even to open her mouth. Yet Princess Wenyang insisted she strike the same side—her face had become completely uneven.
But she had no choice. To Qingzhu, Princess Wenyang’s words were like an imperial decree.
Smack!
At the first slap, Princess Wenyang only grew more irritated. Her voice rose despite herself. “Get out! Who told you to do it here? This is not a place for a servant to be punished. Go outside where no one can see—and I must hear it from here. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like Qingyun.”
At the mention of Qingyun, Qingzhu trembled violently. She quickly bowed and stumbled out of the room.
After venting her anger, Princess Wenyang felt no relief—only deeper frustration. Among all these maids, none could compare to even a fraction of Qingyun. Now, she found herself actually missing her.
If only I had kept her a few more days…
Qingya stood not far from the doorway. When Qingzhu passed by her, she didn’t even dare turn her head to look. Qingya’s eyes had long since reddened, yet she didn’t dare cry out loud. When she heard Princess Wenyang mention Qingyun just now, her entire face looked as though it had been washed by tears.
Qingyun… after Mu Xueshi left Princess Wenyang, had been ordered to death by the princess. Along with her, all the guards who had witnessed Mu Xueshi at the time were also executed. The guards were killed by the sword, but Qingyun… was buried alive directly in that grave within Wenyang Palace. And that grave had since been leveled—no trace remained to show it had ever been there.
Outside, the sharp sound of slaps rang out clearly, one after another. Princess Wenyang closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. She didn’t know why, but everything felt unreal—just like that, she had married the Third Prince. Not long ago, she had been completely confident in his feelings for her, but ever since seeing Mu Xueshi’s true appearance, she could no longer rid herself of the deep inferiority lodged in her heart.
Back in Lubei, she had once been jealous of the queen—the most beautiful woman in the world, whose every smile and glance could captivate countless handsome men. But at that time, her jealousy had only been an emotion; she had even believed that when she grew up, she would surpass her in beauty. Now, however, her jealousy toward Mu Xueshi had transformed into hatred. Just the thought of that peerlessly beautiful face made her unable to tolerate his existence.
The door was pushed open once more. Princess Wenyang’s heart tightened again—and this time, the person who entered did not speak. Steady footsteps moved from the doorway to the bedside, familiar and pleasing to the ear.
Her heart hovered between relief and renewed anxiety. The Third Prince had finally come. Her earlier worry now seemed laughable. They had already completed the wedding ceremony, yet she had still feared that the groom might not come to lift her veil.
When the footsteps stopped, Princess Wenyang peeked through the gap beneath her red bridal veil and saw a pair of red boots—it was indeed the pair the Third Prince was wearing. Her heart seemed to stop in that instant, and her palms grew damp with sweat, afraid that even the slightest movement might ruin her carefully prepared makeup.
The Third Prince picked up the ceremonial jade rod from the tray and gently lifted it—the red veil slid to the ground. Beneath it was another thin red gauze, which he also removed.
Princess Wenyang lowered her head, a blush rising on her cheeks. The Third Prince gently held her chin and lifted her face to look at him.
A mist filled her eyes. When she met his gaze, a tear slipped down from the corner of her eye.
“Your Highness… I thought you wouldn’t come.”
The Third Prince smiled faintly. “How could I not… tonight is such an important night.”
Hearing this, Princess Wenyang’s cheeks flushed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked unsure of herself. The Third Prince began removing her ornate headdress and heavy ceremonial garments, leaving her in only a thin red dress. One by one, he removed the jeweled hairpins, leaving only a jade hairpin to secure her long, waterfall-like hair.
After finishing, the Third Prince sat beside her and quietly looked at her.
This was the first time Princess Wenyang had felt a sense of closeness with him. Although he had embraced her twice before, to her, those moments felt distant. Even speaking to him in daily life had been difficult—let alone being this close.
“You are the second person I’ve undressed with my own hands.”
At his words, the smile on Princess Wenyang’s face faded slightly, though she still asked softly, “Then the first… was Young Master Xue.”
The Third Prince’s expression remained calm, as though he was speaking to her—and yet also speaking to himself.
“I once said I would dress him for a lifetime. I also said… no one else would ever lie beside me.”
Princess Wenyang bit her lip lightly. The happiness she had felt moments ago diminished greatly, replaced by a surge of jealousy. She turned to look at him, but seeing his calm demeanor, she restrained herself. After all, he was now her husband—acting a little spoiled toward him was only natural.
“Then Your Highness must make it up to me. I want you to say something a hundred times sweeter than that to me.” As she spoke, she puffed her cheeks and boldly grabbed his arm, acting coquettishly.
“And if I do,” the Third Prince said, a faint, unreadable smile appearing on his lips, “what will you give me in return?”
At first, Princess Wenyang didn’t understand. But when she thought about his words more carefully, her face instantly turned crimson. She lightly pounded his shoulder with her fist and said in a half-petulant tone, “Your Highness is too bad—using such terms to bargain with me…”
“Then are you willing… or not?”
Princess Wenyang gave a soft huff, but under his heated gaze, she turned her face away and murmured, “If Your Highness is willing to say it… then of course I am willing to reward you.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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