Chapter 2: Aren't We Friends Too?
In her panic, Sang Zhi’s hand found the glazed lamp by the bed.
She bit her lower lip and smashed it toward Xiao Yan’s head—trembling, but not holding back one bit.
*Bang!*
The glazed lamp shattered on impact.
A flash of surprise and confusion crossed the man’s handsome face, made fierce by lust.
Then his body went limp, collapsing onto Sang Zhi.
Sang Zhi shoved him off with all her strength, hurriedly scooped up her scattered clothes from the floor, threw them on, and fled without looking back.
She’d barely made it out of the hall when she heard noises behind her.
It was the shouts of the Crown Prince’s servants.
“It’s bad! His Highness the Crown Prince is injured! Someone come quick!”
“Go catch the culprit!”
A huge wave of imperial guards came charging from the opposite direction, nearly crashing right into her.
Terrified, Sang Zhi immediately ducked deep into the rockery in the imperial garden outside the hall.
Once she hid, she stayed hidden for a full *shichen*.
Seeing that dawn was about to break and the noise outside had died down, Sang Zhi let out a breath of relief. But just as she tried to slip away quietly...
She nearly ran face-first into a group of eunuchs.
So annoying, so damn annoying, are they trying to kill me?
Sang Zhi cursed inwardly while silently backing up, only for her back to unexpectedly hit a solid, warm chest.
Right after, a low, husky, magnetic voice sounded by her ear: “What is little sister hiding here for?”
Sang Zhi whipped her head around, and a bone-chilling horror instantly coiled around her.
The man before her was tall, wearing a black brocade robe embroidered with dark gold python patterns.
His features were exceptionally fine, his face like jade, his nose bridge high and straight, his brows and eyes cold and languid, his lips thin, carrying a natural arrogance and nobility.
Sang Zhi’s small face went deathly pale, her ears filled with nothing but her own pounding heartbeat.
How could it be Xiao Yan...
Did he wake up this fast?
“Why has little sister turned into a mute?”
Xiao Yan raised an eyebrow, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.
But that smile didn’t reach his eyes; instead, it made one’s heart fill with dread.
“Greetings, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Sang Zhi lowered her head in fright and curtsied.
Her soft voice trembled slightly, her slender fingertips shaking too.
Your Highness the Crown Prince?
Since when was she this polite?
Xiao Yan curled his lips, lowering his gaze slightly to land on the girl.
In the dim morning light, the young girl’s brows and eyes were pure and tender, her skin white as snow. She wore a pink ruqun, her waist slender enough to grasp, her chest rising and falling like mountain peaks.
She looked exactly like a seductive yet delicate little peach blossom, unable to withstand even the slightest wind or rain.
Xiao Yan stared at her collarbones covered in red marks, as if smelling that faint, sweet fragrance again.
Making one want to bite.
Making one want to devour.
His eyes darkened a few shades, and he suddenly took a step toward her.
For every step he took, Sang Zhi tremblingly took a step back.
Until her entire body was pinned against the rockery by Xiao Yan, the rough stones digging painfully into her back.
He propped one hand above her head.
A faint scent of ambergris aggressively invaded Sang Zhi’s nostrils—familiar and domineering.
“Sneaking around outside the Eastern Palace, what mischief are you up to?”
The man’s careless chuckle drifted down from above.
Sang Zhi’s lips moved twice. “I... I wasn’t doing anything, just passing by. Do you believe me?”
As soon as she finished speaking, hurried footsteps sounded outside the rocks.
Then came the orders Li Yu, the head eunuch of the Eastern Palace, gave to the guards:
“Search quickly! Find out who was so bold as to sneak into the Eastern Palace and severely injure His Highness!”
Hearing this, Sang Zhi bit her lip, a trace of guilt flashing through her eyes.
She secretly glanced up and noticed that on the man’s smooth, full forehead, there really was a bleeding wound.
This wound clearly wasn’t big; it would heal on its own by nightfall. How did that count as severe injury?
Weren’t male leads in novels supposed to have those public-dog waists, able to lift people up and shake them with one hand?
Was Xiao Yan’s constitution really this weak?
Just as she was lost in wild thoughts, the man’s cold, pale fingers suddenly tilted her chin up.
Those dark phoenix eyes stared straight at her, his tone unhurried:
“The one who shared a bed with me last night, was it little sister?”
Sang Zhi instantly froze.
According to the plot, she should have spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed with the Crown Prince, naturally letting the cooked rice become a done deal, before being discovered by the servants.
But once she knew in advance about her miserable ending in the book, she was terrified.
Even if beaten to death, she couldn’t admit that the person last night was her.
Sang Zhi’s little brain spun rapidly, and she immediately put on a pitiful expression.
She tilted her small face up and said softly, “Crown Prince gege, I rested at Yueli Palace yesterday. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
She deliberately stressed the four words “Crown Prince gege,” making her identity clear.
When Sang Zhi was brought to the imperial palace as a child, the first thing she said upon seeing Xiao Yan was—“Crown Prince gege.”
That form of address hadn’t changed since then.
She was already calling him gege.
Xiao Yan shouldn’t suspect her of having any improper thoughts anymore, right?
Sure enough, hearing these words, the man let out a muffled laugh.
Judging by the tone, he seemed pleased.
Sang Zhi relaxed slightly.
The next moment, Xiao Yan raised an eyebrow:
“Then does little sister recognize what this is?”
Sang Zhi blankly looked up, suddenly catching sight of the plain white silk dudou casually hooked on his long fingers.
The fabric was thin and light, the little begonia embroidered with silver thread now wrinkled and crumpled.
Sang Zhi’s pupils shrank sharply, and she sucked in a breath of cold air.
She’d been in too much of a rush when fleeing earlier, only managing to throw on whatever clothes she saw.
She actually forgot to grab the dudou clutched in Xiao Yan’s hand!
No wonder her chest felt so drafty—she was going commando...
Sang Zhi bit her lip in frustration.
If anyone was to blame for last night, it was him!
The moment her outer robe came off, the man’s expression had turned restrained and fierce.
Just kissing her was like he didn’t care about his own life, sucking until the base of her tongue went numb.
And he even did it through the dudou...
Sigh, she really shot herself in the foot. Might as well find a noodle to hang herself with.
“Little sister?” The man’s hot breath brushed against her ear.
Sang Zhi’s whole body went numb, her legs turning to jelly.
Her long lashes fluttered wildly as she bit her lip and denied it: “I don’t know.”
A glint of amusement and scrutiny flashed in Xiao Yan’s eyes, his tone sounding rather regretful: “You don’t know? I was just about to ask.”
“How did this dudou get *ruined* like this...”
Sang Zhi’s pupils contracted abruptly.
Inappropriately, those blushing, heart-pounding scenes from last night surfaced in her mind.
The man was like an insatiable beast, pinning her beneath him.
His cold, pale, sharp hands pressed down on her shoulders, his lips holding the half-bloomed begonia on the dudou.
The wet sounds of kissing were intense, as if still echoing by her ears.
Sang Zhi’s face instantly flushed crimson, and she slowly lifted her head.
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz: “What does that have to do with me...”
Xiao Yan lowered his eyelids, staring at the girl’s reddened, decadently beautiful lips. After a long pause, he asked extremely gently:
“Is it really not little sister’s?”
“I’ve already decided to make the woman who mistakenly broke into the Eastern Palace last night my Crown Princess.”
“To share a blanket in life and a grave in death, to protect her peace for a lifetime, to never leave nor forsake her.”
“Zhi Zhi, think carefully before answering me.”
The man’s eyes were deep, his tone bewitching, and he even reached out a fingertip to intentionally brush against Sang Zhi’s curled lashes.
Sang Zhi always knew Xiao Yan was good-looking, very alluring.
She’d trailed behind Xiao Yan like a little shadow for four years, and had even fantasized about him taking her as his wife.
But thinking of the dark, cold water prison in the Eastern Palace, the rats and leeches gnawing at her feet... Sang Zhi snapped awake in terror.
Xiao Yan was the male lead. She couldn’t covet the male lead, and she absolutely couldn’t admit to last night.
Sang Zhi fiercely pushed him away, her tone firm: “Crown Prince gege, I really didn’t go to the Eastern Palace last night.”
Hearing this answer, a thin layer of coldness instantly gathered in Xiao Yan’s pitch-black pupils.