Chapter 30: The Beautiful Princess vs. The Deranged, Sickly Tyrant

Ning Wanguan let out a muffled groan. Gritting her teeth, she tried to push him away, but he effortlessly flipped her back into his embrace.

“Did I say you could leave?” His voice was ice-cold.

Her heart pounded uneasily as she snapped back, “What, am I supposed to stick around and celebrate the New Year with you?”

If this era had cigarettes, she would’ve lit one up post-battle, just to knock down his arrogance.

He lowered his gaze and studied her.

Outside, the autumn night raged with howling winds and torrential rain, the temperature dropping sharply.

Seeing that he remained silent, Ning Wanguan demanded, “Get up first.”

To her surprise, he obeyed—for once—and got up, lifting her whole body in one swift motion.

She thought he was finally letting her go. Seizing the moment, she tried to scramble away, but just as her feet were about to touch the ground, his large hand clamped around her ankle and yanked her back.

Like a lifeless corpse, she was dragged back onto the bed.

Fury erupted within her. Without hesitation, she lashed out with her other foot, aiming straight for his handsome face.

He hadn’t expected her to be bold enough to actually kick him.

A muffled grunt echoed through the quiet room.

That single move completely provoked him. The next second, he grabbed both of her legs and shoved them backward.

Caught off guard, Ning Wanguan toppled forward, her body crashing into the soft bedding, her face buried deep in the pillow.

A cold sneer curled on his lips. “Do you really think you can escape?”

The sheer difference in their physical strength made her no better than a fish on the chopping block. He easily restrained both her wrists with one hand. Furious, she opened her mouth and bit down hard on the back of his hand.

Originally, it was just to vent her anger, but the next moment, a sharp pain shot through her own hand, making her eyes well up with tears.

A fresh bite mark had appeared on her own skin, blood trickling from the wound.

Meanwhile, the man barely reacted—aside from a slight furrow of his brows, his expression remained unchanged.

“Even if I can’t kill you, I have plenty of ways to make you suffer.”

“You call this suffering?”

…

Pei Tingche listened to her words, veins bulging on his forehead.

Though he stood above her, he hated the way her emotions seemed to dictate his own. He despised himself for it.

She decided to go for the kill, her tone dripping with mockery. “Your skills are just so-so.”

His brows knitted together as he sneered coldly. “You’d better think carefully about what you’re saying.”

…

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Ning Wanguan declared, gritting her teeth as she spat out each word. “Pei Tingche, your skills—are—just—so—so!”

The more irritated he was, the more delighted she became.

So this is what it feels like to yank a tiger’s whiskers.

Damn, it felt great!

She gloated, “Want me to say it again? You—”

Her smug little voice abruptly cut off.

…

Silence.

“Hmm?”

His gaze darkened, and his mocking voice followed, laced with sarcasm. “Why aren’t you talking now?”

…

The man’s expression returned to its usual cold indifference.

He called out, “Hot water.”

The eunuchs and palace maids standing guard outside immediately responded. Before long, they carried in a large wooden bathtub filled with steaming water and set it down inside the bedchamber.

The maids kept their heads lowered but couldn’t resist sneaking glances at the girl sprawled motionless on the dragon bed.

She lay there, completely still, draped over the soft bedding. Her hands, back, and legs were covered in bruises—blue and purple blotches all over her delicate skin.

She didn’t move.

Anyone who didn’t know better might have mistaken this for a crime scene.

A few maids trembled slightly, quietly wondering whether the girl was even alive.

“Leave.”

His voice was cold, dismissing them without need for their service.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The maids followed protocol, retreating from the room and carefully closing the door behind them.

She lay there for a long time before finally coming back to her senses.

Her damp eyelashes fluttered, and her red lips parted slightly. Her voice, hoarse and unwilling to admit defeat, croaked out, “That’s it? If you’ve got the guts, keep going.”

The man let out a cold chuckle and scooped her up in his arms.

Her limp body collapsed against his chest, but her mouth was still defiant. “Are you even up to it, Pei Tingche—”

Before she could finish, he flung her straight into the bathtub.

With a loud splash, she choked on a few mouthfuls of water. Gasping, she wiped the droplets from the corner of her eyes, only to be met with his gaze—shrouded in steam, yet piercingly cold.

Ning Wanguan jolted in surprise, instinctively leaning back.

But his strong hand held her firmly in place.

Water droplets clung to her flushed little face, making her look even more delicate—like a lotus emerging from the water, charming and seductive. His voice dropped, slightly hoarse, “Why aren’t you talking now?”

Her expression shifted instantly, all her earlier arrogance vanishing into thin air.

Her face betrayed every emotion.

His lips curled into a mocking smirk. “Say it again. Go on, I dare you.”

The warm mist filled the air, wrapping around them. The faint masculine scent in the wooden tub mixed with the humid heat, obscuring her now thoroughly red face.

Through the haze, his face was impossibly close, allowing her to take in every detail of his features.

His skin was smooth, his nose sharp and high, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks that—somehow—made him seem both alluring and dangerous.

But his expression remained icy, like the dead of winter—cold, sharp, and ruthlessly defined.

Yet, instead of being mesmerized by his striking looks, her little gaze…

Instead—