Chapter 5

An Qixi roared in her heart, *Don't you dare! That’s this young lady’s first kiss!* She hadn’t even given it to that scumbag in her past life, so how... how could it be inexplicably stolen by an antique man she hadn’t even met before? Her small face turned pale and then flushed, and for some reason, a soft moan finally escaped her throat. It was so faint as to be imperceptible, but he stopped all movement.

He panted as he looked at the small lips he had kissed until they were red and swollen. His cold, clear eyes brimmed with deep tenderness, but even more so with wild ecstasy. She was still as inexperienced and delicious as ever—no, she was even sweeter than before! So sweet that he wanted to devour her right then and there!

"Yiyi, does it hurt? A kiss will make it better, just a gentle kiss..." Beitang Xian was completely immersed in the ecstasy of finally reuniting and holding his beauty in his arms. He wasn't in a hurry to face her; he wanted to peel her away layer by layer in the bridal chamber, making her completely and utterly his own.

His soft, dense kisses, carrying his pleasant and unique scent, fell like rain upon her lips. An Qixi suddenly wanted to laugh; this antique man was really... a bit childish! But so childishly cute!

An Qixi felt a sense of injustice for this exceptional man from the bottom of her heart. That stupid woman, An Chuyi, had such a good man who loved her so much—what more could she possibly want? Were all those years of childhood sweethearts and deep, lingering affection just passing clouds?

This man, who loved so sincerely and purely—what kind of breakdown would he have when he learned the truth? She suddenly began to resent An Chuyi. Truly, the heart of a vicious woman is the most poisonous; what right did she have to receive the love of this crippled prince?

If her boyfriend in her past life had possessed even one-third of the love this man had for An Chuyi, she wouldn't have had to suffer a heart so dead that nothing could revive it.

The carriage swayed along the way, yet she remained as steady as Mount Tai in Beitang Xian’s arms. Her body and mind were completely saturated with this man’s powerful and unique aura. Listening to his low, cold, and charming magnetic voice as he recounted the interesting things he had seen over the past two years, and hearing him tirelessly whisper, "Yiyi, my Yiyi," An Qixi felt so depressed she could have suffered internal bleeding and a third-degree concussion.

Dizzy, she suddenly regained clarity and immediately began to mourn her own impending fate. She could easily discern the tales of war, iron horses, and bloodthirsty slaughter in his words, and she would not underestimate his wisdom and intellect. She did not doubt the iron-fisted methods of this blood-stained prince for a second. Even if he were crippled, a camel that dies is still larger than a horse; playing her, this substitute bride, to death would be as easy as flipping his hand.

"We have arrived at the Prince Xian Mansion." Until the evil, charming voice of the handsome man on An Qixi’s "hate list" came from outside the carriage, she finally had to accept the tragic fact that she was being cleared out like inventory. The carriage curtain was lifted by that sinful yet fair hand. In a direction An Qixi couldn't see, Huang Ziyuan stood against the light, his expression unreadable, his gaze curious and playful as it rested on her bridal veil.

"We're here. I'll carry her." Huang Ziyuan bent down and reached out, intending to scoop the beautiful figure from Beitang Xian’s arms into his own. His movements were fluid, natural, and... unceremonious!

Huang Ziyuan didn't even notice it himself, but that brief moment of holding her had left him reminiscing throughout the journey. He had even driven the carriage at lightning speed, just so that upon reaching the gate, he could follow the plan he had discussed with Beitang Xian: he would carry the bride into the mansion!

Beitang Xian, who had been whispering tender words the whole way, was reluctant to part with the soft jade and fragrant warmth in his arms. His sword-like brows furrowed involuntarily. He narrowed his eyes slightly at Huang Ziyuan’s natural, almost impatient reach. Ignoring the hand Huang Ziyuan extended, he held the delicate body in his arms tighter and whispered into her ear, "Be good. Soon, you will be the princess I have officially married!"

After these words, he offered no explanation and handed the silent An Qixi over to the completely unabashed Huang Ziyuan. His cold phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint, ambiguous smile played on his lips: "Yuan, she is mine."

The slight joy Huang Ziyuan had felt from holding her was instantly blown away by Beitang Xian’s simple sentence. His peach-blossom eyes flickered as he joked playfully, "Indeed, this little beauty will soon be labeled with Beitang Xian’s mark. Oh, how honored I am to be able to hold Princess Xian in my lifetime."

So cynical, yet impossible to hate. Beitang Xian’s thin, cold lips curled into a perfect, domineering arc. His sharp, cold phoenix eyes finally narrowed as he slowly reclined in the carriage. Only then did Huang Ziyuan carry the silent An Qixi out.

Under the bridal veil, An Qixi’s face turned from red to purple. She roared desperately in her heart: *I am my own person, not someone else's! That "you" of yours already kicked you to the curb! You arrogant maniac!*

She truly loathed the arrogance and dominance of these men in ancient society. Her cheap father was the same; with one word, he left her no room to resist and forced her to be a substitute bride. And now this? Beitang Xian says she’s his, so she’s his? Of course not! Hmph, you’ll stop wanting her soon enough, because she isn't that selfish, poisonous woman at all!

Prince Xian’s Mansion sat at the foot of the imperial city, the closest residence to the palace. It occupied a vast area, with red carpets laid out everywhere. The heavy purple-gold gates were thrown wide open, revealing an endless sea of red inside. Both sides of the entrance were packed with guests, a line that stretched endlessly into the mansion. The crackling of firecrackers was deafening, continuous, and drowned out all other noise and clamor.

Amidst the sound of firecrackers and swirling light smoke, the tall, handsome Huang Ziyuan walked forward with the delicate figure in his arms, while four burly men carried Beitang Xian, dressed in bright red wedding robes, out behind him!

As the sunlight spilled over Beitang Xian’s figure, the number one handsome man who had been absent for two years, the "Blood-Faced Yama" of the Beihe Dynasty, finally appeared before the public eye for the first time. Only this time, the once-proud little prince and imperial grandson was being carried out by others.

He was still handsome—handsome in a way that didn't seem of this world. He appeared to be in a deep sleep, his long, slender body wrapped in red wedding robes. His smooth chin was set in a rigid arc, perhaps due to the sunlight. His features, as if carved by God himself, were exquisite and carried a trace of coldness that seemed detached from the mortal world. His long, thick eyelashes cast a clear shadow, and a stray lock of his ink-black hair drifted in the space between the recliner and the ground, elegant and ethereal in a way that made one’s heart ache.

A proud man who had once fought bravely without regard for his life, full of spirit and peerless in the world—to see him now, being carried in this manner to marry the woman he loved, made every conscientious citizen of Beihe feel a deep sense of sorrow and regret.