Yang Zhen replied at an unhurried pace, “A woman who allows herself to be soft and vulnerable will always have someone to cherish her. Yet you insist on being strong at every turn, unwilling to accept defeat, bearing everything alone. If no one sees your struggles, in the end, you're only wronging yourself.”
Hong Ning said coldly, “Your Highness concerns yourself with far too much.”
Yang Zhen lifted her chin with his fingers, lowering his voice with a smile. “If you want to cry, then cry. No one will think less of you for being weak.”
A sudden wave of anger surged within her. Hong Ning jerked her head away. “I don’t understand Your Highness’s words. Why should I cry?”
Yang Zhen let her go, raising a brow. “So you truly feel nothing?”
“That is my business. It has nothing to do with Your Highness,” Hong Ning retorted icily and turned to leave.
—
She passed through the main hall and entered the back garden. The sky had dimmed to dusk, yet the sound of steady footsteps behind her never faded, following her at a deliberate distance—not too close, not too far.
By the pond, seeing that no one else was around, Hong Ning finally lost her patience and stopped. “Why is Your Highness still following me?”
Yang Zhen asked, “She came to take care of you—on whose behalf?”
Hong Ning turned, looking at him calmly. “Does Your Highness wish to see me humiliated?”
Yang Zhen stood beside her for a moment, then shook his head, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. “She was deliberately provoking you. Her words may not even be true. You’re so clever—how could you not see it? You let yourself be upset for nothing.”
“Upset?” Hong Ning laughed. “Your Highness misunderstands. Whether it's true or false, it has nothing to do with me.”
Yang Zhen’s expression remained unchanged. “You’re clearly affected, yet you refuse to admit it. With how proud and stubborn you are, any man would choose her…”
“Presumptuous.” Hong Ning couldn’t be bothered to argue further. Cutting him off, she turned to walk away.
Suddenly, a force tightened around her waist.
An arm encircled her, holding her firmly in place, while another hand gripped her chin.
Then—hot, possessive lips descended upon hers.
Overbearing, domineering—yet unlike before. Last time had been pure desire.
This time, it was mockery.
Hong Ning’s shock and fury erupted all at once.
The more Hong Ning struggled, the more brazen he became. In the end, he effortlessly caught her raised hand before it could strike him. At the same time, he lifted his face and pulled away.
Hong Ning looked at him coldly. “What does Your Highness mean by this? Or have you fallen under an enchantment again?”
Yang Zhen’s expression remained calm, as if nothing had happened. “So, you do care about such things.”
Hong Ning swallowed her anger and said nothing.
Yang Zhen released her hand. “How do I compare to him?”
Caught off guard by the question, Hong Ning instinctively asked, “Who?”
“The man you like.” A faint smirk appeared at the corner of Yang Zhen’s lips. “Do I look like him?”
Hong Ning fell silent.
She should have expected this. This man was no ordinary noble—he was the renowned Prince Rui. He had entered battlefields and political affairs at a young age. His insight was far sharper than most, and he had likely noticed her unusual behavior from the very beginning.
Yang Zhen pressed on. “Who is he?”
Hong Ning replied simply, “You are not him.”
Yang Zhen said, “So he loved another woman and refused to marry you?”
Hong Ning knew he had misunderstood but did not bother to correct him. “It’s getting late. Your Highness should return.”
Yang Zhen’s fingers, warm to the touch, gently brushed across her cheek. He let out a soft laugh. “If you love him so much… why not pretend that I am him?”
For a moment, Hong Ning was truly stunned.
Yang Zhen lowered his hand, not waiting for her response.
With slow, measured steps, he turned and walked away. “Remember my words. It makes no difference whether you think about them now or later.”
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