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墨書 Inktalez
Feng Lan heard that her younger brother had returned, and she was instantly filled with rage, storming off to find Liu Ruoruo to settle the score.
However, she searched the entire Prince's Residence and couldn't find a trace of her.
In her fury, she happened to bump into the wandering Mo Ying in the corridor.
"Where is the Prince?" Feng Lan demanded sharply, her tone unfriendly.
"In response to the Princess, the Prince is currently drinking himself into a stupor in the Wine Cellar," Mo Ying replied respectfully.
"What?!" That statement was like pouring gasoline on the fire of Feng Lan's anger.
Feng Lan was so furious that she felt like she could explode. She wanted nothing more than to take a knife and kill Liu Ruoruo on the spot.
Liu Ruoruo had taken advantage of her brother but refused to take responsibility, and now she had the audacity to hide away in the Wine Cellar drinking!
Feng Lan strode forward, heading straight for the Wine Cellar.
Behind her, Mo Ying's voice feigned sorrow: "Poor Prince, sacrificing so much just to keep young master Feng Chen around, even going so far as to have me disguise myself as an assassin to stab her. How could someone as delicate as the Prince endure such suffering? For the one he loves, he is willing to hurt himself. Alas, unrequited love— young master Feng Chen doesn’t even have the Prince in her heart. Who knows if the Prince will end up drinking himself to death alone in the Wine Cellar..."
Mo Ying's words sent Feng Lan's mind into a chaotic whirlwind.
She had never considered that the sword strike had been meticulously planned by Murong Xue herself.
Did she truly care for Chen so much that she would harm herself to keep him?
Yet, looking at it from another angle, Murong Xue had never shown even a hint of concern or care for him, her officially recognized husband.
Murong Xue had always treated herself with indifference.
Feng Lan suppressed the complex feelings stirring within him and quickly made his way toward the Wine Cellar.
No matter what, he had to ensure that Murong Xue married Chen; otherwise, in this matriarchal society, Chen's life would be utterly ruined.
As soon as Feng Lan stepped into the Wine Cellar, he was taken aback by the strong scent of alcohol and the faint sound of crying.
"Woo... Why am I so unlucky? Just when I finally like someone, he doesn't like me back! Am I really a doomed star?!"
Feng Lan couldn't help but twitch the corner of his mouth.
Inside the Wine Cellar, Liu Ruoruo was crying uncontrollably, her face streaked with tears and snot as she lay amidst a pile of wine jars, desperately gulping down alcohol. Her expression was that of a complete wronged woman.
"Chen, why don't you want me?"
Just as Feng Lan approached her, she suddenly lunged at him like a bear, wrapping her arms tightly around him, her tears and snot smearing all over him. "Chen, what’s wrong with me? Can I change? Please don’t leave me! I really want to treat you well, woo... I don’t want to go to the Eighteen Layers of Hell."
Feng Lan didn’t quite catch her last words; they were completely drowned out by her hoarse cries.
Feng Lan had never seen her looking so tearful and pitiful.
His heart jolted, as if a feather had brushed against it, creating an unusual sensation that rippled through his chest, disrupting its usual rhythm.
He repeatedly reminded himself not to be soft-hearted towards her.
He wanted to push the woman in his arms away, but she clung to him like an octopus, both of them engaged in a fierce tug-of-war.
"Chen, believe me, I will treat you sincerely!"
Jealousy surged like a tide, gradually invading Feng Lan's heart. " Murong Xue, look clearly, I am not Chen!" Feng Lan suddenly exerted force and pushed her to the ground. Perhaps he had used too much strength; Liu Ruoruo fell and lay there for a while without getting up.
As Feng Lan approached to help her, the person who had been lying on the ground, seemingly drunk, suddenly sprang up like a nimble rabbit. She quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and forcefully kissed his lips that were about to utter a protest.
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