CHAPTER FOUR — COULD IT BE HIM?
Tang Ke Xin released a slow, silent breath, her fists tightening at her sides. She had been so close—mere steps from the doorway, mere heartbeats from escape. To be halted now, at such a critical moment, was nothing short of disastrous.
Who was it?
Who dared stop her now?
Could it be… him? The man from last night?
Ahead of her, Mu Shaoyi halted abruptly. His shoulders stiffened before he turned, suspicion etched across his handsome features. Tang Ke Xin had no choice but to stop as well. She turned with him, forcing her expression into the vacant bewilderment expected of a fool.
But the moment her gaze met the speaker, her heart lurched.
Nangong Yi.
He stood with effortless poise, dressed in crimson robes that shimmered like embers beneath the lantern light. His smile—radiant, wicked, and impossibly beautiful—curved with a grace that could dazzle the heavens themselves.
"The Crown Prince has ordered that everyone be examined," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "It appears Miss Tang has not yet been checked."
His smile deepened, a devilish glint flickering in his eyes. The hall seemed to tilt for a moment, as though the very air bent around him.
Tang Ke Xin stared blankly, her expression empty, her mind racing. Was she meant to appear confused? Or was she truly meant to be confused? The crowd murmured.
"She's a fool," someone said helpfully, though the derision in his tone was unmistakable. "She doesn't understand what the young master is saying."
"Oh? Then allow me to demonstrate."
Nangong Yi tapped his own left shoulder lightly, his peach‑blossom eyes narrowing with playful patience. "Here. We are checking for injuries here."
His gaze held hers, bright and intoxicating, the corners of his lips lifting in a smile that could topple kingdoms.
Tang Ke Xin blinked at him, dazed.
"Beautiful… big sister," she murmured.
A collective gasp rippled through the hall.
Nangong Yi's smile froze. His expression darkened by a shade. Though he was indeed beautiful—more beautiful than many women—no one had ever dared call him big sister.
The Third Prince, Ye LanJue, lifted his eyes, studying her with cool detachment. The faintest curl touched the corner of his lips, as though he found the situation faintly amusing. Even the Crown Prince's serene composure wavered for a heartbeat.
Nangong Yi tapped his shoulder again, more pointedly this time.
"Here, Miss Tang. We must check here."
His smile returned, but it no longer held its earlier ease. Beneath its brilliance lurked something sharp.
Tang Ke Xin's heart tightened.
He was not letting her go.
He wanted her examined.
He wanted her exposed.
Could he be the man from last night?
She could not be certain—but she knew one thing with absolute clarity: if he saw the wound on her shoulder, she would not leave this hall alive.
Yet refusing the examination would be even more suspicious.
She had no choice but to gamble.
"Yes… beautiful big sister. Check," she said solemnly, nodding with exaggerated earnestness.
A faint gleam flashed in her eyes—so quick, so subtle, that only someone watching her closely might have noticed. She was cornered, but she would not go down quietly.
Under the scrutiny of the entire hall, she lifted her hands to her chest and began unfastening her garments.
The reaction was instantaneous.
The hall fell into stunned silence.
Several young ladies gasped.
A few older women nearly fainted.
In this era, a woman's reputation was as fragile as spun glass. To undress in public—before princes, nobles, and monks—was unthinkable.
Nangong Yi's eyes widened, shock breaking through his composure. Even the Crown Prince paused, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. Ye LanJue's expression remained unreadable, though his gaze sharpened.
Tang Ke Xin, however, continued calmly, unaware—or pretending to be unaware—of the scandal she was causing. One button, then another, then another. Her white undergarments peeked through, and the hall collectively held its breath.
"Miss—no!"
Dong'er finally sprang into action, rushing forward in alarm.
Tang Ke Xin looked at her with utmost seriousness.
"Beautiful big sister said… check."
Dong'er nearly wept.
But she was clever—clever enough to seize the moment.
"Young Master Mu," she cried suddenly, turning toward Mu Shaoyi, "the young miss is your future wife. If she behaves like this, how will you ever show your face again?"
Tang Ke Xin almost applauded her.
Good girl. Very good.
Mu Shaoyi stiffened. Dong'er's words struck him like a slap. His expression twisted with disgust, anger, and humiliation.
"Tang Ke Xin, have you no shame?" he snapped.
"Husband…" Tang Ke Xin whimpered, her voice trembling as she reached for his sleeve.
"Get away from me!"
He shoved her violently.
Her body struck the doorframe with a sickening thud before collapsing to the floor. Pain shot through her, but she forced her body to react.
"Ah—!"
A cry tore from her lips, and she spat a mouthful of blood onto the polished floor.
"Miss! Miss!"
Dong'er shrieked, her face turning ashen. "Miss, don't scare Dong'er!"
The hall erupted into chaos.
Mu Shaoyi froze, horror flickering across his face. He had not pushed her that hard. How could she be injured so severely?
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"She vomited blood!"
"She is the Prime Minister's daughter!"
"The Empress's niece!"
"Who dares harm her?"
The Crown Prince's expression finally shifted, his calm façade cracking. Ye LanJue's eyes darkened, unreadable. Nangong Yi's brows drew together, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.
Had he misjudged her?
Had he pushed too far?
Tang Ke Xin lay trembling on the floor, blood staining her lips, her breath shallow.
But behind the trembling lashes, her mind was razor‑sharp.
She had bought herself time.
And perhaps—just perhaps—a chance to survive.