Ji Yanqing never imagined that while shopping for gifts, he’d run into Su Ningyue. He should’ve laid low—especially after the incident with Auntie Xie. If she caught him now, sweet words wouldn’t suffice.
After a brief awkward moment, the seasoned Heir quickly regained his composure. He cornered Su Ningyue, blocking her escape. Though inwardly mortified, he had to maintain his carefully crafted persona and play the part.
Besides, he’d already “taught” her how to write yesterday—this level of teasing was trivial, just a reward for his efforts.
Flirting with his “fiancée” in public was a first, even for the Wei King’s Heir.
“How will you thank me, Miss?” Ji Yanqing asked with a slight smile, stepping forward, brazenly pressing his knee between her slender, elegant legs.
No misunderstanding—it was just his knee.
His fingers lifted her silky black hair, inhaling her maidenly fragrance. Satisfied, he said, “Mmm, smells divine. I bet you taste just as good.”
Su Ningyue’s face flushed crimson, her delicate hands clutching her chest, her clear apricot eyes lowered, showing little fear.
She recognized the python-robed youth as “Qi Shu.” So, he hadn’t lied—he was indeed Ji Yanqing, the Wei King’s Heir, the most exalted youth in Jizhou.
And the most handsome she’d ever seen.
Though aware of his noble status, she struggled to accept he was the Heir. A lofty figure descending to her side, confessing love—wasn’t this a plot from Bronze Sparrow Chamber’s novels?
Like The Tyrant Prince Loves Me, Reborn and Forced to Marry the Scheming Heir, or The Succubus Heir and the Girl Next Door…
Not that she read them approvingly, of course.
Doubts rippled through her mind.
As the Heir, why would he personally visit a minor escort agency, help them escape ruin without reward? With the Wei King’s Mansion’s power, a single word from him could decide their fate.
Unless… it was something he couldn’t trust others to handle.
As Su Ningyue pondered, Ji Yanqing grew uneasy. By all logic, his blatant teasing should’ve provoked a reaction, yet she remained unfazed.
Normally, girls either clung to him, offering themselves, or slapped him and fled.
Su Ningyue’s calm was a first.
Seeing no response, he wondered if he’d overdone it, scaring her silly. He tried again, “Such a beauty—betrothed yet?”
“Yes…” Su Ningyue’s frame trembled, her fingers tucking a strand of hair, her voice a whisper, dimples glowing with a tipsy flush.
Unlike Xie Lingwan’s sultry fox-like allure, Su Ningyue’s pure elegance was a clear mountain spring, lively and charming.
“Perfect. I’m especially fond of married women,” Ji Yanqing said with a wicked grin, though inwardly frantic. She just stood there, unresponsive—how could he escape to pick gifts for Xie and Ji Qingyan?
Continue this standoff, and he’d have to act for real.
Su Ningyue’s lips curved, her eyes crescent moons, a soft smile blooming. “Your Highness, with your noble status, how can you act so recklessly? I’m engaged to a certain nameless master.”
“No matter. Even if your fiancé watched, I’d take you under the open sky, amidst clouds and rain,” Ji Yanqing said fiercely, glaring at the gawking crowd, pulling her pale hand into a shadowy corner.
Pinning her against the wall, he caged her with his arms. “You trust my character so much, Ningyue? Not afraid I’ve been plotting to claim your beauty?”
“I trust Your Highness, and Master Qi Shu,” she said. “Your peach-blossom eyes are unforgettable. Someone with such eyes can’t be vile.”
Her smiling eyes and curved lips sparkled.
Hearsay was unreliable; seeing was believing.
She’d heard countless tales of the Heir, from eight-year-old girls to eighty-year-old grannies, painted as a lustful fiend by storytellers.
But those slanders paled against his vow to stand with Weiyuan, his refined grace defining her image of him.
No lecher would tease so “politely.”
“Ningyue, play along a bit,” Ji Yanqing whispered.
She nodded, unsure of his intent but willing, as his “fiancée,” to share his concerns.
“Little lady, come to my arms. Serve me well, and I’ll show you ecstasy,” he said, reciting a classic yellow-haired villain line, second nature to him.
“Don’t come closer, or I’ll scream!” Su Ningyue cried, feigning panic, though letting him hold her waist. Fake engagement aside, they were friends—hugs were normal.
Since her father’s illness, she’d learned to manage Weiyuan. While other girls her age were carefree, she negotiated with clients, maneuvered with officials, balanced books, mediated disputes, and mastered social graces.
The burden weighed on her delicate shoulders for three years. Just as she faltered, a youth named Qi Shu helped her through the darkest times.
To him, Weiyuan’s weight might be less than a word, but his charming smile was etched forever in her budding heart.
Unintended seeds bloomed where none were planted.
“Jie jie jie, scream all you want—no one’s coming. Just submit!” Ji Yanqing cackled villainously, resting his head on her round shoulder.
Did he like Su Ningyue? Maybe a bit. Dislike her? He couldn’t bear to make such a good girl cry.
Fine, he’d just started liking her today.
‘Sigh, I’m too kind,’ he thought.
…
“Achoo!”
In the Wei King’s Mansion’s Buddhist hall, Xie Lingwan sneezed inexplicably, sensing someone was up to no good behind her back.
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