Chapter 141: Disguise, A Heart-to-Heart Between Husband and Wife

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Shen Qianmo did not oppose the order Meng Yuanheng had just given. Lou Xinyue’s malice had crossed the limits of what Shen Qianmo could endure after repeatedly harming her. She was not someone who tolerated or backed down without principles. Nestled in Meng Yuanheng’s broad, warm embrace, Shen Qianmo felt a peace she had never known before. Though outwardly calm during her confinement at the He residence, her heart had been restless every moment. Facing the shrewd and assertive He Liancheng, every word she spoke and every action she took was carefully calculated and weighed. Now, suddenly letting go of her worries, sleepiness overcame her.

“Ah Heng, where are we going?” She nuzzled against his chest, drowsy, murmuring softly. Meng Yuanheng looked down at the woman in his arms, her hands wrapped around his neck, her eyes half-closed and her expression relaxed like a lazy kitten. A gentle smile curved his lips. Avoiding her question, he whispered softly, “Sleep.”

Struggling to keep her eyes open, Shen Qianmo noticed shadowy figures flickering occasionally among the trees and caught the stubborn and annoyed look in Meng Yuanheng’s eyes. She sighed quietly. This fellow was probably irritated by the bodyguards protecting them, which explained why he chose to walk along secluded, deserted paths. Perhaps even he did not know where he was headed.

Her hands gently stroked the nape of his neck, catching a faint scent of blood. Frowning slightly, she asked, “Ah Heng, are you hurt?”

“Never mind, just sleep,” Meng Yuanheng replied dismissively, shaking his head. He glanced at the determined bodyguards trailing them, his eyes flashing sharply. Holding Shen Qianmo steadily, he suddenly pushed off the ground, springing into the air, using a tree branch to vault over a nearby hill. He then veered into another secluded path, winding until they reached a flat, grassy slope. Only then did he sit down, cradling her in his arms.

Behind them, the bodyguards, ordered to protect the prince and princess, stared dumbfounded as their charges vanished into thin air. Not fools themselves, they guessed their prince’s intentions. After exchanging glances, they decided not to intrude. Moreover, it was heartbreaking—they wouldn’t be able to find the prince’s whereabouts anytime soon. Sighing, they resigned themselves to returning to Commander Yan’s side to face punishment.

The grassy slope was soft and level. The two sat closely together, surrounded by the rustling trees stirred by the wind. All was tranquil and beautiful.

Meng Yuanheng’s lips curled into a triumphant smile, beaming at Shen Qianmo like a child whose deepest wish had come true. “Mo’er, now it’s just the two of us at last.”

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Shen Qianmo was speechless. Now she understood why he had seemed off moments ago. She had never seen Meng Yuanheng so willful and reckless. The man who had always been gentle with her and indifferent to others, occasionally playful but always measured, now wore a smile of unrestrained arrogance, heedless of everything.

The faint scent of blood on his skin stirred her suspicion—he was definitely injured. Ignoring his handsome smile, she put on a stern face and said firmly, “Take off your clothes. Let me see.”

Though Meng Yuanheng appeared lean, his body was excellent—typical of someone who looked slim in clothes but had a well-built form underneath. No matter how good his physique was, Shen Qianmo had no mood to admire it. She was furious and heartbroken at the sight of the numerous scars and fresh wounds that bled anew.

“Meng Yuanheng...” she ground out his name through clenched teeth, ready to scold him severely. But when she met his pleading, hurt eyes, her anger softened and she swallowed her fury. She just glared at him, took out the wound medicine she carried, and silently began tending to the bleeding cuts.

She finally understood why he always wore black—the dark clothes concealed the bloodstains. She had been so lost in the joy of their reunion that she hadn’t noticed earlier.

Perhaps aware of his guilt, Meng Yuanheng quietly endured Shen Qianmo’s ministrations, biting his lip whenever it hurt without a word. When she finished, he carefully pulled her into his arms and whispered hoarsely, “Mo’er, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Hearing his clear admission of fault, Shen Qianmo’s eyes welled with tears. She struggled to hold them back and asked softly, “Where did you go just now? How did you get hurt so badly?”

Many were arrow wounds, some deep enough to expose bone. Was he numb to pain? How could he have been flying around using his lightness skill with such severe injuries? Did he think he was invincible?

“To the He family’s military camp,” Meng Yuanheng replied after a long pause, his voice low, sounding just above her head.

Shen Qianmo looked up sharply, scrutinizing him. “You... didn’t go alone, did you?”

He hurriedly shook his head. “No, Yun Yi and Yan Mo were with me...”

“Really?” Shen Qianmo sneered. “Then why are you the only one badly hurt while the others are unharmed?”

Meng Yuanheng, did you think I was a three-year-old so easy to fool?

Seeing Shen Qianmo’s anger flare again, Meng Yuanheng panicked. He wrapped his long arms around her and pressed her back into his chest. His face buried in her hair, he stroked her gently for a long moment before murmuring, “Mo’er... I really want to kill them.”

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Startled by his sudden words, Shen Qianmo asked, “Them? Who?”

“All of them!” Meng Yuanheng’s voice grew dark with murderous intent, his grip tightening and tone chilling. “Everyone who has hurt you, everyone who’s a thorn in our side—they all deserve to die! Mo’er, I only want you. The rest... can all die!”

A heavy weight settled in Shen Qianmo’s heart. She pushed him away and faced his pale, handsome face. For the first time, she saw the raw, unmasked fury and ruthlessness burning in his eyes.

Meng Yuanheng, in turn, saw himself reflected in her clear, bright gaze. His usual cold, aloof, and composed mask was just that—a mask. The real him was this figure before her: a man who loved and hated with equal extremity, reckless and unrestrained. The moment he had helplessly watched Shen Qianmo fall off the cliff seven years ago had torn his disguise to shreds.

He was no longer the revered, wise, and formidable War God Prince the world admired. He had become a brutal, bloodthirsty demon filled with hatred.

“Mo’er, are you afraid of me?” Meng Yuanheng fixed his sharp eyes on the woman in his arms, a hint of vulnerability and grievance flickering within their blade-like depths.

Before his beloved, Meng Yuanheng no longer wished to hide behind a facade. He wanted only to reveal his true self. “But even if you fear me, I won’t let you leave my side...” he whispered, his arrogance undiminished.

Shen Qianmo sat up and gently cupped his pale, gaunt face. A sudden sting welled in her eyes. During their more than two months apart, she had no idea how he had endured it. Yet she knew this man had become what he was because of her.

Blinking away the haze of tears, she smiled warmly at him, her long lashes veiling the mist beneath. “Fool, I told you I’ll always be with you. We’ll never be apart again. Besides...” Shen Qianmo grasped his hand and placed it on her belly. “Here, we already have our child, Ah Heng. Soon, we’ll have a complete family.”

She had grown up an orphan, raised in an orphanage. Though she appeared strong and independent to the world, deep inside, she yearned for the warmth of a family.

Meng Yuanheng paused, as if only now recalling that Shen Qianmo was pregnant. Feeling the warmth radiating from her palm, he frowned and pulled her back into his embrace, muttering gloomily, “Mo’er, I don’t like children. I only want you.”