Chapter 4

An Qixi felt her entire body stiffen. She wanted nothing more than to chop off those two restless wolf-paws from earlier. She had seen him! She had memorized his appearance; even though he was quite the bewitching beauty, that didn't give him the right to pinch her bottom, did it? Therefore, she had officially categorized that man into her "pervert" group, marked him as "avoid at all costs," and added him to her blacklist! If she ever had the chance, she would definitely take revenge!

Before she could even express the anger in her eyes, she felt herself being... tossed away by that heartless pervert?

Just as her little heart was pounding in terror and her face had drained of all color, a pair of powerful arms caught her with ease. Two large hands pressed firmly against her back and hips, the astonishing heat radiating from them pressing her body tightly against his. Her body could not have been any stiffer; she was forced to passively let him do as he pleased.

*Chih!*

A low, heartfelt chuckle sounded by her ear—soft, yet incredibly pleasant, leaving her stunned. The next second, she was sitting on a pair of legs, her whole body cradled by a broad chest like an infant, in a posture that was both comfortable and ambiguous. Her heart, however, sank to the depths. This must be that "useless prince," right?

Hey, hey, what are you touching? Don't touch her! An Qixi wanted to cry but had no tears. She was like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bowstring. Her body, still paralyzed by the acupoint strike, remained rigid, and her heart felt as if it were about to leap out of her chest. She hoped this prince wouldn't take his anger out on her just because he was a cripple and his girlfriend had abandoned him. If he slapped her to death, wouldn't that be a terribly unjust way to die?

Seeming to sense her stiffness and silence, Beitang Xian’s handsome brows furrowed slightly. He stared fixedly at the bridal veil for a long while before his expression finally softened. In a tone of near-doting affection she had never heard before, he murmured against her temple: "Chu Yi, Chu Yi, my Yi Yi..."

The voice was melodious and joyful, low and enchanting, like a soft, ancient chant. Every word was saturated with deep affection, intoxicating to the listener. The breath he exhaled sprayed against her earlobe through the opaque yet thin-as-cicada-wing bridal veil, tickling and numbing her, causing half her face to flush red.

She wailed in her heart: Big brother, please, whatever you do, don't lift the veil! If you lift it, it’ll likely be either her death or her destruction!

An Qixi’s cat-like eyes stared fixedly at the veil, her heart tightening from these unsettling factors and an inexplicable fear. As a transmigrated anomaly who had lived for 25 years in her past life and watched countless soap operas, her intuition told her that this man with the charming voice must be deeply in love with her cheap, snake-hearted older sister.

Was this one of those "gold-standard" peerless men? Did men who loved so deeply really exist in ancient times? She was deeply skeptical. Looking at this man—whose voice was as light as a cicada's wing yet heavy as a thousand gold pieces—the thick, deep affection and the cautious embrace were so scorching they made her uneasy. None of this belonged to her, An Qixi!

She suddenly felt a sense of reluctance. If this man knew he had been abandoned, toyed with, fooled, and deceived, what would he do?

His scorching palms moved gently along her exquisite waistline, stopping at her shoulder blades, lingering as they caressed the mutton-fat-like skin of her neck. He took a sudden, light sniff, and his nose was filled with the cheerful scent of pear blossoms. His star-like phoenix eyes flickered with light as he whispered hesitantly: "Yi Yi, did you change your perfume? Why isn't it the scent of peonies? Hmm, but I like the pear blossom scent even more. It’s faint, elegant, and quiet, just like you..."

Beitang Xian suddenly felt his heart skip a beat, purely because of this faint pear blossom scent. He had never told An Chu Yi that he disliked the heavy, fragrant scent of peonies—he disliked it very much. But Chu Yi liked it, and every time they went out, he would watch her happily test perfumes, only to choose the peony scent in the end, timidly asking him, "Xian, do you like it?" He hadn't had the heart to tell her the truth.

His thin, cold lips sucked gently at the underside of the bridal veil, his ambiguous breath reaching her through the fabric. Poor little mummy-like Qixi wanted to cry but had no tears. Buddy, it’s not that she doesn't want to tell you, it’s just that she really isn't your An Chu Yi!

"Yi Yi, why aren't you speaking? Are you... angry with me?" His greedy movements finally stopped the moment he touched her soft chin, and he asked, his words muffled against her skin.

An Qixi felt like she was going to vomit. A strange, numbing sensation traveled from his lips on her chin all the way to her hair and toes, making her suffer immensely. Her small face turned beet red, and even her jade-like neck flushed crimson.

"Yi Yi, I promise I will never... never leave you alone for so long again. Actually, I wasn't unable to stand..." Beitang Xian murmured, but the explanation already on his lips came to an abrupt halt because of the bruise he saw in his line of sight.

His narrow phoenix eyes suddenly tightened, a fierce, chilling murderous intent erupting within them. All the tenderness on his hazy, handsome face was instantly replaced by gloom. His large hand, however, touched the bruise on her delicate jaw with incredible gentleness, his tone impossibly soft: "Yi Yi, how did this happen? Does it hurt? Hmm?"

Being gently caressed by those astonishingly hot hands, An Qixi suddenly felt a sourness in her nose and an urge to cry. No one had ever spoken to her in such a tone—so loving, so cautious, so treasure-like. But she knew this wasn't meant for her. When the bridal veil blocking them was lifted, all of this would turn into a brilliant bubble, flying away from her in a magnificent display.

Damn it! To think they dared to hurt her! Did those people in the Prime Minister's mansion really think he, Beitang Xian, was dying? They even dared to touch his woman! Murderous intent surged uncontrollably, but Beitang Xian held it back, kissing the bruise gently, licking and sucking it with meticulous care, not missing a single spot.

The numbing sensation on her chin was strange and made her tremble. An Qixi truly cried, crying out of shame, annoyance, and anxiety. A tear rolled from the corner of her eye, landing on his hand that was still supporting her head. His arm stiffened, and the expression in his eyes shifted, clouds of gloom obscuring them.

A single tear deeply scorched his hardened heart. A hatred took root, making him want to fly back and destroy those animals in the Prime Minister's mansion!

"There, there, don't cry. I'm here, I've always been here..." Beitang Xian murmured tenderly. How much hardship had this woman endured for his sake? He dared not imagine it. But in this moment, he knew he loved her even more—loved her so deeply it turned to guilt, so intensely it turned to heartache.

His pale, thin lips kissed her soft, pink, delicate lips with a fragility he had never shown before. He tasted and pecked at them, the sensation so wonderfully incredible that after his body had stiffened, it erupted like a volcano. It was unstoppable; he sealed her lips with a wild, surging force, tasting her wantonly, his domineering tongue driving straight in with a destructive power that threatened to sweep everything away.