Chapter 29: The Beautiful Princess vs. The Mad Tyrant

Three Days Later – Yanfu Hall

Pei Tingche lay on a soft couch, his body weary.

He closed his eyes but could not sleep.

The remnants of the previous dynasty had been completely wiped out—his great vengeance fulfilled—yet the scars left behind were deep, branding him with severe psychological torment.

Every time he closed his eyes, terrifying images from the dungeons surged forth like an unstoppable tide.

Auditory hallucinations. Visual distortions. Phantom illusions.

They plagued him, making sleep an impossibility.

Outside the window, the storm raged on. Heavy rain poured from the eaves, cascading down in rapid torrents.

A few muffled claps of thunder split the starless night, illuminating the darkness in flashes as bright as daylight.

In one such flash, Pei Tingche sensed someone approaching. His eyes snapped open—deep, dark pupils gleaming like stars in the night—as he searched for the intruder’s presence.

The figure was light as a swallow, moving swiftly before suddenly pouncing on him. Pei Tingche countered instantly, seizing the person’s arm in an iron grip. A sharp gasp of pain followed.

“It hurts, it hurts!” A soft, delicate voice whined. “It’s me! Ow—let go! Let go!”

Pei Tingche paused, recognizing Ning Wanguan’s voice.

Hadn’t he thrown her into the snake pit? How could she be here?

That moment of distraction was all she needed. Ning Wanguan lunged forward and pressed her soft lips against his.

The instant their lips touched, a faint, lingering fragrance from her body wrapped around him. His mind reeled as a storm of emotions crashed through him, every nerve in his body igniting with an unbearable heat.

Her kissing technique was clumsy. She tried multiple times to part his thin lips, attempting to deepen the kiss.

He closed his eyes, momentarily indulging in her initiative. His body, overly sensitive in the darkness, should have recoiled, should have pushed her away—yet he didn’t.

His hand hovered mid-air, but he never brought himself to shove her off.

It wasn’t until a bitter taste spread between his lips that he realized something was wrong. He shoved her away abruptly.

But it was too late.

She had bitten his lip, and now the bitterness seeped into his blood.

Pei Tingche turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto hers—eerily calm, chilling in its stillness. “You poisoned me?”

Her voice carried a lighthearted chuckle, both infuriating and smug. “That’s right.”

“The antidote.”

His tone was flat, devoid of emotion, like a judge pronouncing a death sentence.

Ning Wanguan only smiled wider, her bright eyes filled with defiance. “There is no antidote.”

She slid off the couch, fumbling to light a candle. The weak glow illuminated the entire bedchamber, casting flickering shadows across her delicate face, which was brimming with self-satisfaction. Her gaze met his, fearless and unyielding.

“This poison is called the ‘Heartbinding Curse.’ From now on, our lives are tied together. If I die, you die too.”

Pei Tingche let out a soft tsk, his lips curling into an amused smirk. “Are you threatening me?”

“So what?”

“You think I’ll believe such petty tricks?”

She gave him a deep look, then suddenly grabbed the dagger on the table. Without hesitation, she rolled up her sleeve and, with ruthless determination, slashed a deep cut across her pale, delicate wrist.

Scarlet blood seeped from the wound, trickling down in thin rivulets.

At that exact moment, a sharp pain flared in Pei Tingche’s left wrist. He lowered his gaze and saw a stain of red blooming across the white fabric of his night robe.

He lazily lifted his eyes, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Interesting.

Since their first encounter in the dungeons a year ago, he had found this girl particularly intriguing. She seemed different from the arrogant and domineering Princess Changyu he remembered from childhood.

His dark, eerie gaze locked onto her face, searching for traces of that difference.

Seeing his silence, Ning Wanguan assumed he didn’t believe her. Gritting her teeth, she threatened, “If you don’t believe me, I’ll cut myself again.”

“No need.”

His expression was unreadable—was he convinced or not?

Ning Wanguan tore a strip from her outer robe and wrapped it around her wound. “You’d better believe it. Otherwise, next time, I’ll aim for my heart. If you want me dead, I won’t let you live either.”

“What do you want?”

He stood and walked over to the table, pouring two cups of tea. One he slid toward her, the other he casually drank from himself.

Ning Wanguan stared at the tea before her, then spoke softly, “Release my mother.”

“Hmm.” He responded indifferently.

So easily?

She was momentarily stunned.

“What else?” His voice was slightly hoarse.

She hesitated, then, for some inexplicable reason, her face flushed.

“If you won’t say it, then I will.” He reached out, tilting her chin up, his breath drawing closer.

Ning Wanguan’s lashes fluttered, her heart pounding like a war drum.

“I’ve thought of a perfect way to torment you,” he murmured.

His voice was low and husky, his collar slightly open, revealing the pronounced curve of his Adam’s apple. As he spoke, his throat bobbed slightly, stirring a strange impulse within her.

She froze. “What?”

Before she could react, he scooped her up and tossed her onto the soft couch. The next moment, he crushed his lips against hers, kissing her without rhyme or reason—fierce, chaotic, and overwhelming.

His lips sealed over hers, his breath scorching.

A muffled whimper escaped her as she tried to push him away, but he easily overpowered her, pinning her wrists above her head, leaving her even more vulnerable to his assault.

Ning Wanguan was naturally a beauty.

Instinctively, she reached for the silk pouch at her waist, trying to retrieve the contraceptive pill inside. But he caught her movement, and in the blink of an eye, the pouch—along with her outer garments—was tossed to the floor.

“Pei Tingche! What are you trying to do?”

“What do you think?”

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(Review restrictions! I’m going crazy!)

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She blinked pitifully at him. “Is it over?”

His voice was hoarse. “It’s only just begun.”

“…”

A metallic taste filled her mouth as she bit down hard. A sharp sting flared on his arm, and soon, a deep bite mark became visible on his skin.

The girl furrowed her delicate brows, wincing in pain. “Mad dog!” she cursed.

A cold glint flashed through his dark eyes as he sneered, “If I’m a mad dog, then what are you?”

She gritted her teeth. “I’m your dad!”