Chapter 33: The Beautiful Princess vs. The Mad and Sickly Tyrant (10)

Autumn’s face flushed slightly, a hint of excitement flickering in her eyes. This was the first time in her life that someone had ever said “thank you” to her with such sincerity, treating her with genuine respect. The unexpected warmth of it left her feeling touched.

“Your Highness is too kind. This is merely my duty as a servant,” she replied softly.

Winter, watching from the side, found herself reevaluating the Chanyu Princess. She seemed different from the rumors—more approachable, even kind. A small sense of relief crept into her heart.

—

After the bath, Ning Wanguan felt more clear-headed.

It was time to set her course.

Winning his heart…

Right now, Pei Tingche was still a new ruler, and she was the only woman in his harem. She didn’t even need to engage in palace intrigue—she simply had to please him. If she waited until he expanded his harem, her position would be far more precarious.

Now was the perfect moment.

Her status might be awkward, her seniority strange, and her legitimacy questionable…

—

Autumn took a clean towel and gently wiped the water droplets from Ning Wanguan’s skin. Winter then draped a sleeping robe over her shoulders before bringing over a wooden tray. On it lay three sets of golden-threaded nightwear.

The fabric was as thin as a cicada’s wings, exquisitely embroidered. These were personally arranged by Eunuch Su, who had even given strict orders that she was to wear one of these three for the night.

Ning Wanguan casually pointed to one, and Winter picked it up to help her change.

—

“Your Highness, allow me to style your hair.”

Winter’s hands were skilled. She arranged Ning Wanguan’s hair into a soaring cloud bun, embellishing it with delicate hairpins. With her already striking features, just a touch of rouge was enough to make her look breathtakingly beautiful.

Though her living quarters were shabby and her food plain, the clothes, shoes, and accessories Eunuch Su had sent were all of the finest quality.

At a glance, she looked elegant and noble.

But beyond the surface…

—

As night fell, the sedan chair designated for the emperor’s consorts arrived at Hidden Moon Pavilion, ready to escort her to Yanfu Hall.

Inside the hall, candlelight flickered brightly. After settling her inside, the attendants quickly withdrew, leaving Ning Wanguan seated on a soft couch, waiting for Pei Tingche to arrive.

She waited and waited… until drowsiness began to creep in. Just as she was about to drift off, the door suddenly swung open.

Her head snapped up, and she saw Pei Tingche stepping inside, dressed in dark robes. Behind him, a few palace maids trailed silently.

Then, she heard the door close behind them.

The man stood tall before the couch, his broad shoulders and imposing frame casting half of her body into shadow.

Ning Wanguan tilted her head up, squinting at him, only to find that his sharp and handsome face was similarly shrouded in darkness. His expression was calm as usual, no different from his usual detached demeanor.

For a second or two, the air between them stilled.

She didn’t rise to greet him, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Then, his indifferent gaze slowly moved downward, landing on her.

His pitch-black eyes flickered briefly, and the corner of his lips curved into a slight smile. “Did you pick this outfit yourself?”

Her tone was displeased. “You were the one who picked it.”

He let out a silent chuckle, neither admitting nor denying it.

Just then, a palace maid brought over a grand chair, and he sat down leisurely, his gaze never leaving her from start to finish.

Ning Wanguan felt a little flustered under his scrutiny. The way he looked at her—it was as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“What exactly do you want?”

She eyed him warily. If he had summoned her for the night, why bring so many palace maids?

Was this… for an audience?

At that moment, a maid knelt and offered him a cup of clear wine. Pei Tingche took it unhurriedly, lowered his gaze, and took a slow sip. His dark eyes were unreadable as he said, “Let’s begin.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Ning Wanguan was dumbfounded.

The man tipped his head back and downed the wine in one go. The liquor burned down his throat, but his expression remained composed. He lifted his gaze, watching the scene unfold with an emotionless face.

She really, truly hadn’t expected Pei Tingche to pull something like this.

A sharp sting suddenly spread from her wrist. Pei Tingche felt it too—she had cast the Heartbinding Curse on him, so whatever pain she experienced, he would feel as well.

“This,” he said gently, “was custom-made just for you.”

His voice was calm, almost soothing. “It was forged from millennium-old black iron, excavated from Lingyun Mountain. It can withstand any blade in the world. No matter how hard you try to break free, it’ll be useless.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?!” she gritted her teeth. “What the hell do you want?”

“I heard from the imperial physician that you were injured.”

The moment he said that, Ning Wanguan panicked slightly.

Pei Tingche caught the flicker in her expression.

With a meaningful look, he said, “I’ve ordered the imperial physician to prepare medicine for you.”

Ning Wanguan’s face turned red with anger. “No need for your concern!”

Pei Tingche was utterly unbothered. “Apply the medicine.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Ning Wanguan was completely dumbfounded. She sat there, feeling utterly hopeless.

Pei Tingche looked down at her, his gaze cold and condescending.

And that was it—she snapped.

“***!” (← She cursed. Very, very badly.)