Chapter 8: The Stranger Like Jade, The Peerless Young Master

A distinguished prime minister clad only in plain clothes revealed his integrity in office, though life was far from easy. She could have pleaded for kindness toward her son, yet not once did she mention it before leaving. She thought perhaps she should meet the husband who went mad the day after their wedding, Shangguan Ning.

In the bridal chamber, red candles flickered, large characters of joy adorned the windows, and a screen embroidered with mandarin ducks stood nearby. Fresh fruit lay arranged on a porcelain plate atop the table. Like Wan Qi Haoyu seated on the bed, they all awaited someone.

The door opened, and a woman dressed in a vibrant red wedding gown staggered in, holding a wine cup, seemingly intoxicated.

Taking the pole from the wedding attendant, she lifted the red veil from the man’s head, revealing a face that was handsome, refined, and striking.

“Wan Qi Haoyu,” Yun Qiange smiled gently, taking the paired wine cup from the table. “It’s time we drank the nuptial wine together.” He moved like a puppet, performing the ritual with a woman he disliked. Yes, what he drank was not truly the nuptial wine—it was merely a gesture, as if he were drinking alone, with no one beside him. He would never admit this was his wedding cup.

After finishing the ritual, the attendants, maids, and servants all left, leaving only the two of them in the room.

“They say a stranger on the road is like jade, unparalleled in the world; Lord Haoyu, your beauty is indeed peerless.” Her eyes, blurred with intoxication, looked at him, lips pouting as if about to kiss him.

Yet at the corner of her eye, she noticed the bulging veins on Wan Qi Haoyu’s hand, fierce and tense. Endure it, let’s see how long you can last.

Just as she was about to press her lips to his, Wan Qi Haoyu suddenly stood up. Yun Qiange caught a scent of ink and felt her lips brush against the edge of his red garment.

“If you love this face so much, what if I do not want it?” Suddenly, a flash of white light appeared before her eyes as a sharp blade aimed for the man’s cheek.

With a loud clang, the wine cup collided heavily with the dagger, sending the blade flying. Instantly, her playful mood vanished; she stopped pretending to be drunk and sat down by the table, taking a gentle sip of wine. “To have such a fine face and not cherish it—only a fool would want to destroy it.”

She truly longed to restore her former beauty; how blind she had been to her blessings.

“To Haoyu, appearance is but a mere shell,” he said, his cold voice like the chill of moonlight, indifferent as if speaking of something irrelevant to himself.

Yun Qiange stood and casually walked over to his side, lowering her voice. “Since you have no feelings for me, I won’t force you. When the time comes, I will let you go.”

“What conditions do you have?” His finely arched brows furrowed. How could she so readily let him leave?

“Hmm... conditions—I suppose I should think carefully about that.” She had only saved him because she found him agreeable. If he thought she had ulterior motives, she might as well play along. With such a good opportunity, she wasn’t foolish enough to be a saint.

“I disagree,” he snorted coldly. He knew all this was part of her schemes.

“Tch, I swear this blank check doesn’t mean murder, arson, theft, or any crime. Really, I swear on my reputation.” Her eyes sparkled, and if one could overlook her pitiful appearance, she would seem like an obedient and virtuous child.

“You still have a reputation?” Wan Qi Haoyu cast a cold, sarcastic glance her way, his words dripping with skepticism and doubt.