The Prisoner of Beauty

Jia Si escorted the Lady out of Xindu during the day, heading north. He dared not relax for a moment throughout the journey.

Although the entire route was within the Lord's territory and should not pose any major issues, the lesson from the previous incident involving Chen Rui in Bingzhou was still fresh in his mind. Even though it had been an accident, the mere thought of it still filled him with lingering fear.

Moreover, when the Lord had first married, the very next day while escorting the Lady back to Yuyang, an accident had occurred on this same road. The Lady had been abducted, and in the end, the Lord had resorted to attacking Shiyi to resolve the matter.

Especially since he knew that the Lady's departure today was not the Lord's intention. If anything were to go wrong, he truly would not be able to atone even with ten thousand deaths.

Thus, although this was merely a relay station, that night he not only arranged rotating guards near the Lady's quarters but also took the watch himself during the latter half of the night.

During the day, he had also secretly wondered whether the Lord, upon receiving his message, would send someone after them.

The answer came far sooner than expected.

Not only had the Lord personally caught up, but he had done so on such a stormy night, with thunder and heavy rain, traveling over a hundred miles from Yuyang to arrive at the deepest hour of the night, the Hour of Yin.

He wore a rain hat and a straw cape, his feet splashing through puddles as he strode directly from the station's entrance into the main hall.

Behind him, he left a trail of wet footprints.

Jia Si was stunned and dropped to one knee before the Lord, bowing his head in preparation for the reprimand he expected.

But the Lord only asked him one question: "Where is the Lady?"

His tone betrayed neither anger nor joy.

As Jia Si replied, a gust of wind brushed past his face. When he looked up again, the Lord had already walked past him...

...

Xiao Qiao slowly sat up from her pillow.

Chun Niang draped an outer garment over Xiao Qiao's shoulders and glanced uneasily toward the door before whispering close to her ear, "The Lord is drenched, and his expression doesn't look good either."

With that, she turned and went out to where Wei Shao stood just outside the door.

His expression held no anger, but neither did it show any other emotion.

An oppressive aura emanated from his entire being.

Chun Niang suppressed the unease rising in her heart.

She truly wanted to offer an explanation for the Lady's unannounced departure today that might appease the Lord's anger.

But she simply couldn't think of one.

"The Lady is awake..."

Wei Shao's figure blurred as he stepped across the threshold.

The door creaked shut in front of Chun Niang.

...

The candlelight was dim.

Wei Shao was drenched from head to toe.

Though he had been under shelter for some time, droplets of water still fell incessantly from his soaked hair, rolling down his forehead onto his handsome face.

His clothes clung tightly to his chest, dripping steadily. In just a few moments, the dry ground where he stood at the entrance had pooled into a small puddle.

Xiao Qiao's gaze slowly traveled from his face to the puddle at his feet.

"Take off your clothes. You're soaked!" she said.

Wei Shao remained silent.

He stood motionless.

Xiao Qiao waited a moment.

With a cold snort, she said, "If you catch a chill tomorrow, don't blame anyone!"

With that, she turned her back to him and lay down again.

She closed her eyes, but no sound came from behind her.

Finally unable to resist, she opened her eyes slightly and glanced back.

Wei Shao stood exactly as he had moments before, arms hanging straight at his sides.

His shadow, cast by the candlelight against the wall behind him, was motionless, like a hanging shadow puppet.

It was as if he was sulking.She suddenly grew angry, sitting up abruptly and throwing off the covers to stride directly in front of him. Frowning, she said, "Since we can't seem to agree, why don't I return to my Yuyang while you stay here to continue your grand affairs as Lord? Wouldn't that be convenient for both? Chasing after me in the middle of the night to disturb my sleep—do you think we didn't argue enough yesterday?"

Wei Shao remained stubbornly standing. A single glistening drop of water rolled from the widow's peak at the center of his forehead, landing on the bridge of his straight nose.

Perhaps from being exposed to the wind and rain for half the night, his handsome face appeared slightly pale, his eyes streaked with red from the rain's irritation, and a trace of exhaustion lingered between his brows.

Xiao Qiao resentfully raised her hands and began stripping off his clothes. "I just don't want you getting sick here. Otherwise, Grandmother will blame me later!"

He obediently let her peel off his garments until he stood bare before her.

Xiao Qiao then rummaged through a clothing chest and tossed a large bathing towel at him.

Wei Shao caught it and finally began drying his hair, face, and body.

She gathered his soaking wet clothes—dripping enough to wring out water—and took them to the door, handing them to Chun Niang.

Ever thoughtful, Chun Niang had already fetched a set of clean undergarments from Jia Si and was waiting outside with them.

Xiao Qiao took the clothes and returned to him, holding them out. "Put these on."

Wei Shao accepted them and silently dressed.

"What exactly are you here for?" Xiao Qiao's tone softened slightly at last.

Wei Shao said, "I sent a letter to Yang Xin. To withdraw the troops."

His first words since entering.

Xiao Qiao froze.

"Are you satisfied now?"

His second sentence. Spiteful.

Xiao Qiao remained silent.

The room fell into stillness.

The sound of night rain on the roof suddenly grew urgent, its patter distinctly audible.

"I did this for you," Wei Shao suddenly articulated, word by word.

"That refugee leader is no ordinary man. If he becomes my enemy in the future, he'll be trouble. My strategist advised me to recruit him. But since he's practically half a member of your Qiao family, even if he had heaven-defying abilities, I would never use him!"

"Manman, since things have come to this, I might as well stop hiding it from you. I know you've always wanted me to let go of this hatred in my heart. I want to too! But for me, it's too hard. Every time I think of how my father and brother died, I can't suppress the hatred. I can't do it!"

Xiao Qiao's eyelashes trembled slightly as she slowly raised her eyes.

"Earlier today, I thought you'd returned to Yan Province! I chased you all the way to the southern city gate! Manman, do you know what thought crossed my mind then?"

He paused.

"At that moment, I was both shocked and furious. I thought—if you abandoned me, if you truly never came back, then so be it. I'd have nothing left to hold me back. I could attack Yan Province whenever I wanted! If I wanted to wipe out the Qiao family, I'd do it!"

Xiao Qiao's eyes widened.

The pallor from the rain still clung to Wei Shao's face.

Against his pale complexion, his sword-like brows and pitch-black eyes stood out starkly.

His eyes were webbed with red veins, dense as a spider's silk.

The sight sent a chill through her.

"Then... what exactly do you want by coming here?"

She struggled to control it, but her voice still carried a faint tremble.

Wei Shao closed his eyes. Then suddenly opened them."Shall we make a pact? I desire you, and I want you to desire me just as much. Listen to me, bear my children, and never leave me. In return, from this day forward, as long as your Qiao family remains loyal, I promise not to harm them."

Xiao Qiao's heart pounded violently, almost leaping out of her chest.

The late autumn night was chilly, and she felt cold, goosebumps rising on her skin. Yet a warmth surged in her eyes.

"Alright."

She met his bloodshot gaze and spoke.

A flash of white light outside the window.

From the distant mountains, another muffled thunderclap seemed to roll in, suddenly exploding overhead.

Xiao Qiao shuddered.

Wei Shao reached out and pulled her tightly into his embrace.

They tumbled onto the bed.

Yet no matter how he caressed her, Xiao Qiao's body continued to tremble, her teeth chattering.

He kept kissing her, enveloping her with his burning body until her shivering gradually subsided. Then he suddenly released her, lying flat on his back before her.

Had he wished, he could have taken her long ago.

But he remained still, staring straight at her with unblinking eyes.

Xiao Qiao knelt beside him. From his gaze, she understood what he wanted her to do.

Once before, in a moment of passion, he had asked this of her.

She had spat at him then, and he had withdrawn sheepishly.

She stiffened momentarily.

Closed her eyes briefly.

Then yielded to him.

...

He panted, the blood vessels in his eyes reddening further. In that instant, hearing a soft, plaintive whimper by his ear, all the loss, anxiety, and restlessness Wei Shao had carried through his solitary journey on the stormy road tonight vanished without a trace.

He thrust into her forcefully, as if trying to penetrate deep into her heart.

Speaking those words had left him resentful and disgusted with himself.

The Qiao family had played the beauty trap on him.

And he had fallen for it.

Fully aware, yet unable to extricate himself.

All he could do was seek pleasure and satisfaction from her—enough to make him forget the bone-deep hatred in his heart.

Only this way,

was it fair.

...

Luoyang.

If one asked the noble ladies of Luoyang what the most fashionable makeup was now,

it was no longer the slender willow-leaf eyebrows reaching the temples, nor the dazzling floral ornaments between the brows.

Instead, it was half a delicate mask, partially veiling jade-like features, riding in fragrant carriages through Luoyang's streets, drawing countless onlookers.

Madam Yulou, having completed mourning for the late Left General of Fengyi, had finally returned to Luoyang.

After two years, a month ago, she made her first public appearance at a palace banquet wearing a golden butterfly mask.

The next day, Luoyang's noble ladies began emulating her, with countless followers, making it an unmistakable trend.

...

Early morning, just as dawn broke, Xiao Qiao awoke.

The thunder and torrential rain that had raged all night had vanished without a trace.

Outside the small window, a few crisp bird chirps sounded.

Making the room seem exceptionally quiet.

Xiao Qiao slowly opened her eyes.

She still lay on the inn's bed, her body sore and weak, as if not yet freed from last night's entanglement.

Wei Shao slept deeply.

Perhaps he had truly exhausted himself last night.

Normally alert, he didn't wake even as she gently removed the arm he had draped over her.

Only his eyelashes fluttered slightly, his brows furrowing a little.

The early autumn morning in Xindu carried a chill.

Xiao Qiao draped a robe over herself, gently pulled the blanket that had slipped to his waist back up, then slipped out of bed and padded to the window, pushing open a small pane.Outside the window, on the locust tree branch that had been battered by last night's storm—groaning like some wounded beast—perched two magpies with white heads.

They preened each other's rain-dampened feathers affectionately, necks entwined as they hopped about, chirping noisily.

It was these little creatures that had woken her just moments ago.