"How can you be sure Qiu Yue didn't kill Lang Ruhua?" Lang Huan asked, her eyes showing she didn't quite believe it.
Feng Yao reached out gently catching Lang Huan's sleeve to guide her to sit. "Qiu Yue has no reason to kill her," Feng Yao explained softly. "Why would she do it? What would she get from it?"
Lang Huan looked into Feng Yao's eyes — eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to melt through the frost wrapped around her heart. her arms encircling Feng Yao's waist as she buried her face in the curve of her neck, she breathed in that faint, familiar scent she had missed for far too long.
Feng Yao's voice gentled further, her breath brushing against Lang Huan's hair.
"I'm sure the person who hurt Lang Ruhua is the same one who put the poisonous snake in my room," she whispered. "But I still don't understand why. Why target both of us?"
Her hand rose, fingers threading lightly through Lang Huan's hair before patting her shoulder with quiet affection — a wordless comfort that spoke more deeply than speech ever could.
Then, a thought came to Feng Yao. The only thing connecting her and Lang Ruhua... is Lang Huan. A dark idea formed in her mind. Could it be jealousy? A love rivalry?
Lang Huan lifted her head and met Feng Yao's gaze. The princess smiled gently, like the soft glow of the morning sun — yet behind that warmth, there was a trace of danger only she could see. It made her uneasy; her brows drew together as she tried to read what lay behind that smile.
Feng Yao reached out, brushing her thumb over the crease between Lang Huan's brows, smoothing the tension away. "I'm not dead yet," she said softly. "Whoever did this… will strike again—"
"I won't let them," Lang Huan interrupted, her voice shaking with both fear and determination. She held Feng Yao tighter, as if she could protect her from any danger.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "If anything happens to you... I would never forgive myself."
"Lang Huan..." Feng Yao whispered, gently holding her face before kissing her softly. "I want you."
A soft gasp escaped Lang Huan's lips—part surprise, part disbelief. She froze, her eyes wide with shock. For a brief moment, in Feng Yao's smile, she saw a glimpse of Lang Ruhua—bold, playful, and slightly mischievous.
She fell silent, lost in Feng Yao's deep, dark eyes that seemed to pull her in completely.
"Why are you so quiet?" Feng Yao murmured, her voice low and teasing. "Can't I want to possess you? You're mine… my wife."
Feeling both nervous and overwhelmed, Lang Huan asked in a trembling voice, "Can you really do this?"
Feng Yao didn't answer with words. Instead, she slipped her hand inside Lang Huan's robe, pressing soft kisses along her neck. Lang Huan's breath quickened, her body growing tense yet responsive to the touch.
The princess then untied Lang Huan's belt and loosened the clothing around her chest before gently guiding her onto the bed. She climbed on top of her, moving with quiet confidence.
Though inexperienced, Feng Yao followed her instincts and memories of how Lang Huan had once touched her. She removed her own outer layers until only her undergarments remained. Their bodies pressed close, holding each other tightly in the quiet room. Feng Yao's hands began exploring Lang Huan's skin while their long hair tangled together. The only sound was their unsteady breathing.
She parted her lips and nibbled on Lang Huan's jade peak... Lang Huan's fingers twisted into the bedsheet, her knuckles white as she fought the urge to roll over and pin Feng Yao beneath her.
Then Feng Yao's hand moved lower, gently stroking her thigh before reaching the sensitive area between her legs. Lang Huan gasped and shivered at the touch.
As Feng Yao continued caressing her, Lang Huan's body responded naturally. Guiding Feng Yao's hand, she helped her slowly insert a finger inside.
"Ahhh...!" Lang Huan bit her lip hard, trying to hold back a cry. The pain was sharp and overwhelming—much more than she had expected.
Seeing her struggle, Feng Yao stopped immediately. She remembered her own first time and how much it had hurt. Her heart ached seeing Lang Huan in pain, and she started to pull her hand away.
"No..." Lang Huan whispered breathlessly. "Just... go slowly..." She tried to guide Feng Yao's movements, but the pain became too much. Finally, she fainted from the overwhelming sensation.
"Lang Huan... Lang Huan..." Feng Yao called softly as she carefully withdrew her finger, now marked with a trace of blood. She gently brushed the hair from Lang Huan's face, feeling both amused and concerned. The brave wolf warrior who had faced countless battles had fainted during her very first time.
Knock… knock…
A soft voice came from outside the chamber. "Your Highness…"
Feng Yao quickly put on a thin robe and answered calmly, "Come in."
Her maid, A Li, entered and bowed. "Miss Xiao Lan is here. She wishes to see the Prince Consort."
Feng Yao's expression cooled. She glanced toward the inner room where Lang Huan was resting. "My consort is not available for casual visitors," she replied firmly. "Lang Huan is resting. Tell Xiao Lan to leave."
"As you wish, Your Highness." A Li bowed again and quietly left.
Through the slightly open window, Feng Yao noticed a young girl outside—Xiao Lan—pacing back and forth and muttering to herself. A slight frown formed on Feng Yao's brow.
She pushed the window open wider. Immediately, a dark figure dropped silently from a nearby tree.
"Your Highness," Wu Ming said with a slight bow. "What are your orders?"
Feng Yao's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Follow Xiao Lan," she instructed quietly. "Watch her closely and report anything unusual."
Wu Ming gave a single nod before disappearing back into the shadows as silently as she had arrived.
Feng Yao remained by the window, her gaze fixed on the distant figure of the young girl. A cool breeze brushed against her robe, sending a slight chill through the air. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.