"Them?" Yi Xiao remained puzzled, her smile gradually fading.
"Yes, them. Those civil and military officials, even the King Father," Feng Suige nodded firmly. "Because if I become King, I will declare you as Queen on the day of my coronation."
Yi Xiao's expression changed dramatically. She sneered, "Should I kneel and thank you in advance?"
"Let me finish," Feng Suige seemed oblivious to her anger, speaking urgently. "I've thought over what you said that day. No matter what, I won't let you return to Jinxiu. I want to keep you by my side. Although I can't think of a better way to express it, I truly hope you can see my sincerity, even if just a little."
"Stay by your side, and then play archery a few times each day, followed by battles of wit?" Yi Xiao's voice turned cold as steel. "This isn't a consultation—it's an announcement of your decision. If you're just announcing, why put on this facade of discussing it with me?"
Feng Suige grabbed her shoulders. "Yi Xiao, I know this will not only make you hate me but also put you in opposition to most people. But this is currently the only way I can win you over."
His hands trembled slightly as he held her.
"I swear on my life," he continued, each word deliberate and fierce. "Whether you're that person's lover or still love him—from today on, I will never let you go. We will be entangled until death. In every lifetime, every reincarnation, I swear it."
Yi Xiao glared at him fiercely. She swung at his hands. He dodged back, his expression dimming—but then her voice cut through the silence, low and dangerous: "Feng Suige, if one day I kill you with my own hands, don't blame me. You forced me to it."
"You've agreed," Feng Suige's face lit up as if he hadn't heard her threat. "You've agreed, haven't you?"
The fierce anger in Yi Xiao's eyes turned to resolute indifference. Her gaze fell on the skin painting in the corner, and she replied without looking at him: "Feng Suige, I don't hate you. But if there is a next life, I only wish that we never meet again—in heaven or on earth."
She had never told anyone that she detested killing.
On the battlefield, she never hesitated. But that wasn't because she wanted to kill—it was because her choice wasn't whether to kill or not. It was to kill or be killed. That choice would one day be lost to her, though she didn't know when. All she had left was her self-respect. She wanted to hold her head high. Even if she died in battle one day, she wanted to die with dignity.
Not as a captive. Not as a possession. Not as someone's proof of conquest.
Feng Suige stood there, stunned. Her final words pierced his heart deeply. After a long while, he managed a forced smile.
"King You of Zhou lit beacon fires to tease the feudal lords, all to win a smile from Bao Si," he said quietly. "I offer you the position of Queen and my true heart, yet I only receive your anger. Is it that I've used the wrong method, or are you too hard to please?"
He stepped closer. "Very well. All I have to accompany you is this life. If you want it, come and take it yourself."
"If you die, then everything will be gone, and I will soon forget you," Yi Xiao said coldly, turning her head away. "Don't you think this is meaningless?"
But Feng Suige showed a strange smile. "So I've made a bet."
Yi Xiao didn't look at him, but she couldn't help asking, "Bet on what?"
Her hands at her sides had already clenched into fists—as if she had foreseen his answer.
"Bet," Feng Suige whispered each word distinctly into her ear, his voice dropping to something dangerous and intimate, "that. You. Can't. Resist."
The words crashed down like thunder.
Bet. That. You. Can't. Resist.
Four words. That was all it took to shatter her control.
Yi Xiao swept everything off the table—the embroidered cloth, the jade boxes, the carefully hoarded pigments. A palace lamp adorned with crystal pearls and agate shattered on the floor with a deafening crash. It was the most expensive, most elegant lamp in the Prince's manor.
In the outer room, the maid who had already retreated prayed with a wailing face, hands clasped, muttering to Buddha. Please let the Junior Consort's anger subside. Please let me go in to clean up soon. Please let the guard who went to notify the Prince bring him back soon.
But he was already here.
After saying those four words, Feng Suige called to her softly, his voice almost gentle: "Yi Xiao—"
She suppressed her ragged breathing, forcing herself to calm down. "What is it?"
As she spoke, she turned to look at him. His face grew larger in her vision as he lowered his head. She stood rigidly, as if trapped by the frozen air around her, until his hot breath blew against her lips.
"Are you waiting for me to kiss you?" he asked, and the question was both threat and promise.
Yi Xiao suddenly pushed him away.
She rushed from the room, running wildly back toward the Prince's manor. Returning to her empty chamber, she almost vomited—unsure whether she was disgusted by his manipulation or by her failure to resist it.
Fu Yi Xiao, what were you expecting at that moment? Why did you return here after leaving? What were you thinking?
Self-loathing battered her taut nerves like waves against stone.
Like a cornered beast, Yi Xiao kicked away the palace stool blocking her path. She grabbed the Tan Lang bow and quiver from the table and headed for the door. She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't think about that nauseating scene—couldn't think about the way her body had responded when she should have felt only contempt.
She needed to leave. She needed to escape the Prince's manor, escape Susha itself. Even if venturing out alone meant dying at the city gates, it was better than this.
"Junior Consort... Junior Consort, where are you going?" the night-duty maid called out, chasing after her.
Yi Xiao turned back sharply, her voice lethal: "Shut up. If you follow me, I'll kill you first."
The maid immediately fell silent and stopped in her tracks.
There was no time to waste. Yi Xiao quickened her pace. The maid's cries had already alerted the night patrol—faint voices carried through the darkness.
"Who goes there—"
In the dim light, a shadow flashed. Yi Xiao, prepared, took advantage of the darkness and ducked past the approaching sentry. Her right hand raised the Tan Lang bow, and she struck the sentry's neck hard with the bow arm. He only let out a muffled groan before collapsing softly.
Lanterns were being lit, near and far. Yi Xiao's eyes shone unusually bright in the faint light—the natural night vision that had once made her a key force in several night raids on the Susha camp. Ironically, after fighting so many battles, enduring so much hardship, and killing so many Susha soldiers and generals, her current identity was that of a Susha Prince's consort.
Calls came from the back courtyard. The front courtyard's lamps were lighting up one by one.
Yi Xiao slung the Tan Lang bow across her back and pulled out two arrows. She broke off their fletching, leaving two-foot-long arrow shafts as makeshift close-combat weapons. She gripped the broken arrows tightly and crouched in the shadow of the shrubs, avoiding a squad of the Prince's manor guards rushing past.
If she could safely cross the open space ahead, she was confident she could escape.
Freedom was just beyond reach—and she would take it, no matter the cost.
Bet. That. You. Can't. Resist.
But Feng Suige had miscalculated one crucial thing: Yi Xiao's resistance wasn't to him. It was to the cage itself—no matter how golden, how beautiful, how much it promised to hold her.
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