Chapter Ten: The Beautiful Youth Like an Ink Wash Painting

When the late emperor was on the throne, Chu Liuchen was the crown prince. At the time of the emperor’s death, Chu Liuchen was only a few months old—still swaddled in cloth—when his uncle seized the throne, stripped him of his title as crown prince, and named him Prince Chen. Thereafter, he was kept under half-surveillance in the Southern Palace. Some even mockingly referred to him as the “Southern Palace Prince.”

In her previous life, some said Prince Chen was as gentle and refined as jade, his beauty ethereal like an immortal; others described him as ruthless and bloodthirsty, bewitching and devastatingly handsome. Yet, whichever it was, Qin Wanru always felt it had nothing to do with her. In that life, she had only glimpsed him from a distance once.

On that occasion, he had reclaimed the title of crown prince, standing high atop the scarlet palace steps, looking down on her as one might regard an ant.

But now, she could not avoid facing this youthful Prince Chen.

A person like him—if possible—she would have stayed well away from. And yet now, she had no choice but to steel herself, to reassess her own position.

She would not forget: years later, when this Prince Chen rose again, he began with the young ladies participating in the palace’s draft selection. That day, the deep palace was awash in blood; the delicate girls who once harbored bright hopes all died beneath the boundless sky, lying face-up, their hair in disarray, jeweled hairpins scattered, blood flowing so much that the palace of selected beauties became a hellish abyss.

Subsequently, in order to punish those involved, any palace servant even remotely implicated added to the bloodbath, turning the Palace of Beauties into a veritable sea of carnage.

Afterward, it was said that of every ten palace servants, six were gone; many halls stood empty—not only without mistresses, but without a single servant.

She, too, had been implicated then.

How could she not fear meeting this demonic crown prince again?

The person before her was not someone she could afford to offend—in fact, if possible, she ought to cling tightly to his favor. But should she do so? And how? For the moment, Qin Wanru was at a loss, too stunned to think, and could only stare blankly at the youth before her.

“You know who I am?” Chu Liuchen looked Qin Wanru up and down. He was smiling, but the sinister shadows in his eyes had vanished, making one wonder if it had all just been a trick of the light.

This sickly, beautiful youth’s lips curved slightly in a fresh, clear smile, as if he had stepped from an ink-brush landscape painting—so exquisite that all words paled before him. Under long, curled lashes, his eyes gleamed with a refined, gentle humor—a harmless, graceful young man of unparalleled beauty.

Were it not for the memories of her past life, Qin Wanru might have thought so too.

“I don’t know you,” Qin Wanru replied, lowering her head respectfully and collecting herself. “But as you are my father’s distinguished guest, of course I cannot slight you.” She clenched her fists tight, letting her nails dig into her palms—using the sharp pain to jolt her mind awake—so she could face this prince with as calm a demeanor as she could muster.

Right now, she was merely a sheltered young woman who did not know this Prince Chen.

“You… disturbed my rest,” Prince Chen stated. It was not a question, but a declaration.

A cold sweat broke out on Qin Wanru’s back. She chose her words with care: “Please forgive me, Your Highness.”

“Disturbing me comes with a price,” the prince said, his dark, fathomless eyes locking onto Qin Wanru—as if he were not referring to her having stumbled upon the commotion between her and Qin Yuru, but that she had deliberately gone to cause trouble, thus disturbing him.

“I beg Your Highness for forgiveness!” Qin Wanru did not attempt to defend herself. She bowed even lower—she and this prince were worlds apart.

“I rarely forgive anyone,” the prince replied lightly, almost with a laugh.

“Then… what must I do to earn your forgiveness?”

“Well… I’ll have to think about that.”

“I am at your command.” In this situation, Qin Wanru dared not bargain. Her fate was entirely in his hands. The fact that he was conversing with her at such length suggested he did not intend to take her life.

A deposed crown prince who ultimately reclaimed his title—such a man could not possibly be softhearted.

“Good! You know your place.” Prince Chen clapped his hands, the corners of his handsome mouth lifting. “I’ve heard that General Ningyuan’s family possesses a Phoenix Glaze Cup, a most remarkable artifact. If you can bring me that Phoenix Glaze Cup, your life shall be spared.”

The Phoenix Glaze Cup? Qin Wanru was momentarily stunned. She did know of it—the Phoenix Glaze Cup was said to be an heirloom of her family, handed down for generations. It now rested with her grandmother, who treasured it dearly. She had only been allowed to see it once, but remembered it clearly because she had liked it so much.

“That… is my grandmother’s most beloved possession,” Qin Wanru replied hesitantly.

“Oh? Is your life worth less than that?” Prince Chen arched an eyebrow, his gaze falling on the crown of her bowed head, with interest and a hint of menace.

“I will find the Phoenix Glaze Cup for Your Highness,” Qin Wanru gritted out. The look of amusement in his eyes sent a chill through her.

Such a gaze was hardly befitting a pampered prince—it chilled her to the bone, and she instantly understood the unspoken threat: if she could not produce the Phoenix Glaze Cup, her very life would be forfeit.

No matter how gentle his smile seemed, Qin Wanru dared not doubt his words.

“In that case, go and bring it to me,” Prince Chen said gracefully, waving his hand in dismissal. He leaned back, signaling she was free to go.

“Yes,” Qin Wanru answered, relief flooding her heart as she stood to leave. This Prince Chen was certainly an unexpected complication, but one she dared not take lightly.

“Oh? The injury on your arm—surely you didn’t do that to yourself?” The youth’s laughter, though as clear and elegant as jade, was laced with malice. More malicious still was his hand, which pressed down hard on her wounded arm, squeezing with enough force that fresh blood seeped through the thin bandage.

Scoundrel!

That was the only thought in Qin Wanru’s mind as her consciousness faded from the pain. Wasn’t this Prince Chen supposed to be a rare scion of the imperial family—sometimes gentle and refined? Even if such moments were rare, nothing about this dangerously calculating man seemed connected to such childish, reckless behavior!

And she herself was but a child in appearance!

“Your Highness, you…” someone exclaimed, apparently on her behalf.

“It’s rare to see such an interesting and delicate little thing—driving a needle into her own arm, no less. Quite ruthless… Well done!” The voice drifted near and far, the elegant tone naturally delivering cruel words, before receding into darkness.