Chapter 42: Hearts in Harmony

Meng Yuanheng paid no mind to Yin Zhan’s rambling nonsense; his concern lay solely with Shen Qianmo’s safety. When she uttered the words, “Let’s go,” his heart softened, and the frost on his face melted away. Looking at Shen Qianmo, he spoke gently, “Alright.”

The secret guards of Prince Xuan’s residence and the warriors of Woyun Villa were locked in fierce combat with the disciples of the Infinite Sect, but Meng Yuanheng didn’t spare them a glance. He guarded Shen Qianmo with utmost care, leaping into the air and whisking her away.

Changdong followed closely behind. As a personal bodyguard, he naturally went wherever his master went.

Meng Yuanheng, you heartless man, always favoring the opposite sex! Yun Yi cursed silently, severing the arm of an Infinite Sect disciple with a single stroke, then resignedly threw himself back into the fray.

Seeing Meng Yuanheng depart, the Chief Protector Wu Chen prepared to pursue him, only to be blocked by Yin Zhan.

“No need to chase. He’ll return eventually.”

Yin Zhan gazed at the direction in which Meng Yuanheng vanished, his expression layered and complex.

Meng Yuanheng, are you truly so anxious for that woman? For her sake, you would abandon such a golden opportunity, even forsaking the chance to uncover the truth of what happened seven years ago?

If Yan’er were still alive, learning that Meng Yuanheng could cherish a woman with such warmth and care, her heart would surely break.

Shen Qianmo soared through the sky alongside Meng Yuanheng, experiencing the sensation of riding clouds and mist. Before long, he brought her to a large warship.

The warship belonged to the Suzhou navy. Once Meng Yuanheng learned the Infinite Sect’s headquarters was on a small island in the South Sea, he mobilized Prince Xuan’s forces and, without reporting to the imperial court, requisitioned the Suzhou navy’s ship.

In the Great Sheng Dynasty, naval warfare was rare, so the navy was seldom used. The Emperor Mingde decreed that any deployment of the navy required imperial approval, to prevent misuse during long periods of inactivity.

But Meng Yuanheng was in a desperate hurry. How could he wait for Lu Ziqing to submit an application and then await the imperial edict? Following proper procedure would take at least a month—time he neither had nor could afford to lose.

Admiral Zhang Xian, clad in military attire, was inspecting the ship’s prow when Prince Xuan suddenly arrived, holding a woman in his arms. Stunned, he forgot to salute. By the time he regained his senses, Prince Xuan had already walked away. He hastened to catch up.

Changdong, Situ Gong, and others followed as well.

Meng Yuanheng kept his gaze straight ahead, carrying Shen Qianmo directly into his chamber. Without turning, he commanded coldly, “Everyone out. Unless I give the order, no one is to enter.”

The group exchanged glances and withdrew. Zhang Xian resumed his inspection of the deck, while Changdong and Situ Gong stood guard outside, awaiting their master’s instructions.

Meng Yuanheng gently laid Shen Qianmo on the bed. Seeing her flushed face and sweat-soaked body, he fetched a towel and carefully wiped the beads of perspiration from her brow, anxiously asking, “Mo’er, how are you feeling?”

Shen Qianmo felt as though she was on the verge of losing control; a burning energy surged within her, seeking release. Her consciousness was hazy, and she barely knew where she was, only that she wanted to cling to the man before her.

Meng Yuanheng’s cool fingers brushed her cheek, and she felt a measure of clarity return.

“Meng Yuanheng, leave,” Shen Qianmo pleaded, nearly in tears. Could he stop gazing at her with such tenderness? Could he stay away before she completely lost control? She feared she might throw herself at him, unable to resist.

When Meng Yuanheng saw the bloody scratches on her left arm, his expression instantly hardened, anger mingled with deep concern.

Yin Zhan, I swear you will regret this.

He lowered his head and gently kissed her wounds. The soft, moist touch made Shen Qianmo tremble uncontrollably.

“Meng Yuanheng, don’t,” she protested.

Yet to Meng Yuanheng, her refusal was feeble, almost an invitation. His eyes darkened; he left her arm and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Meng Yuanheng, you scoundrel! Shen Qianmo cursed inwardly. At a time like this, how could he tempt her? Did he know how much suffering she’d endured to withstand the deadly poison of the Biluo Flower?

“Get out!” Shen Qianmo glared at him, gritting her teeth.

But Meng Yuanheng smiled softly. “Mo’er, you are beautiful.” He leaned close to her ear, his voice low and husky, carrying an innate allure that drew Shen Qianmo inescapably.

She sensed what he intended, her eyes misting with tears. Summoning all her self-control, she pushed him away. “Go! You’ll die.”

His gaze was gentle as water. “Mo’er, don’t be afraid. You’ll be alright.”

With that, he kissed her lips.

Their lips met, and Shen Qianmo uttered a soft, satisfied moan. That sound acted as a catalyst; Meng Yuanheng’s restraint shattered in an instant.

He deepened the kiss, with an undeniable force.

“Meng Yuanheng, please don’t,” Shen Qianmo murmured, clinging to the last thread of lucidity.

“Call me Heng,” he whispered, lightly biting her earlobe in protest.

Shen Qianmo shuddered, unable to hold back a soft moan. “Heng.”

Hearing her intimate call, Meng Yuanheng’s eyes grew darker. He raised his hand, letting the bed curtains fall, veiling the intimacy within…

“Mo’er, Mo’er.” In her ears, Shen Qianmo heard only his husky, tender call. When Meng Yuanheng pressed forward, breaking the final barrier between them, she could no longer resist her body’s instincts. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes.

When Shen Qianmo regained consciousness, she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar canopy, momentarily stunned. Where was she?

She remembered hiding in the Infinite Sect’s cave, and Meng Yuanheng had found her. What happened next? Why was she lying here?

She knocked her head lightly, tried to sit up, but felt aching and weak all over. Startled, her memories flooded back.

Last night, she and Meng Yuanheng had…

Turning her head, she saw Meng Yuanheng’s handsome sleeping face beside her.

Up close, he was impossibly attractive. His features were sculpted, his jaw defined, lips perfectly shaped, lashes long and elegant. Who could have guessed that the typically cold and stern Prince Xuan, asleep, would resemble a child—innocent and endearing?

Shen Qianmo’s lips twitched faintly as she gazed, momentarily entranced.

But why was he sleeping so soundly?

Suddenly, she recalled Yin Zhan’s words about the antidote, and panic struck her. Had the poison transferred to Meng Yuanheng?

She leaned nearer to check his breathing. Steady and even—he seemed fine. But why wouldn’t he wake?

“Meng Yuanheng, Meng Yuanheng,” Shen Qianmo called softly.

But Meng Yuanheng seemed lost in a beautiful dream, unwilling to awaken.

Anxiety gripped her. She didn’t know the properties of the Biluo Flower’s poison, nor whether it had truly passed to Meng Yuanheng.

She quickly dressed and rose, calling out, “Someone come!”

Changdong and Situ Gong, who had stood guard all night, were nodding off when they heard her shout. They instantly stood and entered the chamber.

Seeing Situ Gong, Shen Qianmo’s eyes brightened. She hurried to him, saying, “Master Situ, you’ve come at the perfect time. Please, check on His Highness—what’s wrong with him?”

Situ Gong stepped forward, took Meng Yuanheng’s pulse, and after a moment, withdrew his hand in thoughtful silence.

“How is he? Is His Highness poisoned by the Biluo Flower?” Shen Qianmo’s anxiety grew at his silence.

Situ Gong shook his head. “Rest assured, Your Highness. The cold poison in His Highness’s body is extremely potent and suppresses the Biluo Flower’s toxin. In fact, his constitution can be considered immune to all poisons.”

It was precisely because of this that last night, Situ Gong had felt confident allowing Meng Yuanheng to treat Shen Qianmo.

“Then why won’t he wake?” Shen Qianmo asked, perplexed.

“His Highness is fine,” Situ Gong replied with a trace of embarrassment. “He’s just… exhausted.”

What? Exhausted? Shen Qianmo felt her face blaze with sudden heat.

Could it be that her demands last night had overwhelmed Meng Yuanheng, the healer?

Shen Qianmo felt she had never been so mortified in her life.