The bride’s face was thus exposed to the world. Fine drops of rain slanted across Qingge’s cheeks, her long eyelashes drooping as she sat silently. This situation was entirely beyond the scope of her hasty training. She was uncertain how the real Xiahou Jianxue would behave at this moment, so her only option was to sit quietly, her head bowed in silence.
Thankfully, Mo Jingxi stepped forward at this moment, his calm voice belied his turbulent emotions, “Your Highness Ning Wang, what is the meaning of this?”
However, Ning Wang, his slender fingers remained on the hilt of the sword at his waist, did not even glance at Mo Jingxi, let alone acknowledge his presence.
Being completely ignored was humiliating for Mo Jingxi; he pursed his lips, staring at Ning Wang.
Finally, Ning Wang turned his gaze directly towards the figure sitting in the remnants of the carriage.
Qingge could distinctly feel the piercing, scrutinizing gaze. It was evident that Ning Wang held no respect for Miss Xiahou, nor did he have any inclination to show kindness toward his soon-to-be Wangfei.1 He was His Highness Ning Wang, always had been, and there was nothing in this world that was worth his concern.
Through the misty rain, the lofty prince raised his hand and spoke up, “Come here.” His tone was an undeniable command, like one given to a pet he had raised.
Luo Momo kept her head down while Mo Jingxi’s frown deepened, but neither of them dared to utter a word.
Thus, Qingge stood up and descended from the carriage.
The road she had to pass through was drenched in blood and rain, littered with severed limbs, and strewn with the remnants of a once magnificent carriage. Nevertheless, Qingge kept her head high, gazing straight ahead with the demeanor of the daughter of the Xiahou clan as she made her way toward Ning Wang.
Draped in a grass-green dress made from the finest yunjin brocade, her hair elegantly coiled up, the lone figure walked through the misty rain with an ethereal and captivating presence, as if chiseled from the purest white jade.
As Mo Jingxi stared at Qingge’s slender back, his hand unconsciously clenched in his sleeve.
By this time, Qingge had already walked up to Ning Wang.
Countless times before, she had silently stood behind him.
Countless times before, she had brandished her blade to protect him.
She was a weapon, a shadow, a nameless Number 37 hidden in the darkness, and the one he casually named Qingge.
She had never thought that a day would come when she had to walk in front of him, to face his arrogant coldness, to face his ruthless killing intent.
Even at this moment, the Ning Wang appeared lofty and indifferent, as noble and cold as she remembered. She slightly raised her face, looking up at those eyes she once could not directly gaze into, then spoke, “May I ask Your Highness, after breaking my carriage and commanding this consort2 to alight, do you have any orders?”
Ning Wang lowered his gaze, carefully observing the woman before him. Her complexion was fairer than snow, her black eyes as deep and shimmering as a spring. Indeed, his soon-to-be wife was a rare beauty of the age. When their gazes met, her posture was humble, yet there was an unyielding spirit in her eyes.
After surveying the beauty, he suddenly smirked, revealing a hint of frivolity and toying, “The daughter of the Xiahou clan has indeed been well-nurtured.”
Qingge’s smile instantly deepened. As expected of Ning Wang; who else was capable of offending the entire Xiahou clan with just one sentence?
Had he not considered the emperor’s purpose in arranging this marriage? He was always one to prioritize major issues, so why did a simple marriage union make him act like this?
This curiosity prompted Qingge to assess him further. Pulling a smile, she said to him, “Your Highness is as graceful as jade, stunningly beautiful; It seems that the sons of the imperial clan are indeed exceptionally raised.”
Ning Wang was surprised by her bold retort. He amusedly scrutinized her for a moment, then let out a dry chuckle, “Excellent, it seems we admire each other at first sight. What a match made by heaven, don’t you agree?”
At that, he lifted his hand, flipped his palm over, and forcefully gripped Qingge’s hand with his strong knuckles, leaving no room for refusal.
At the moment she felt the force and warmth of Ning Wang’s grip, Qingge stiffened momentarily, not expecting this sudden move from him. Her hands bore the calluses of years of training, and while she had carefully maintained them in recent days, they were still unlike those of a precious boudoir young lady.
Fortunately, Ning Wang did not notice anything unusual and simply attributed her stiffness to fright.
He let out another soft chuckle. His voice was gentle and his dark eyes calm, but his words carried a tone of unyielding command: “Until yesterday you were a pampered young lady of the Xiahou clan, but from today onwards, you are the consort of me, Ning Wang. As such, you should start looking the part of a Wangfei.”
Mo Jingxi looked displeased, and Luo Momo was about to speak up, but after exchanging a quick glance, they both tactfully held back their words. Ning Wang was disciplining his future Wangfei, humiliating the Xiahou clan in the process, but in this situation, surrounded by the Xiyuan assassins, they were in no position to confront his rudeness.
Originally, the bridal escort should have been led by the Xiahou clan’s eldest son, Xiahou Zhilan, but shortly after the procession set off, the young man caught a cold and had to stop at a post station.
According to the procedure, either Xiahou Zhilan or Mo Jingxi should have quickly returned to inform the clan and find a substitute for the escort, but for some reason, the Xiahou clan had not yet dispatched anyone, so now Mo Jingxi was the only one escorting the bride.
Mo Jingxi was the most respected steward of the Xiahou clan, a powerful position that commanded him great respect and awe. However, in front of the imperial clan or the other members of the Four Great Clan, he was merely a steward, someone with a different surname who was not qualified to speak on the Xiahou clan’s behalf. Ning Wang’s disregard just now had made his stance towards Mo Jingxi clear.
Completely ignoring the Xiahou clan people, Ning Wang leaned toward Qingge, inquiring, “Can you ride a horse?”
Qingge looked up in response. The man was smiling gently when he said this, but that smile carried a deterrent force that could not be refused.
Ning Wang, always supremely self-confident, naturally would not allow his wife to say no.
Thus, Qingge looked straight into his eyes and replied with a light chuckle, “I’m afraid I can’t.”
Ning Wang seemed to see through her little trick, but he did not seem to take offense and merely laughed it off. His strong fingers still gripping her hand, he said to her, “It’s okay. You can ride with This Wang.”
Saying this, he steadied Qingge by her waist, almost embracing her, before swiftly lifting her into the air and gliding through the pouring rain.
As their robes fluttered, Qingge silently restrained her trained reflexes. Fortunately, in just a blink of an eye, Ning Wang had already settled her on horseback. The broad oilcloth coat enveloped her slender body, her back pressed against the firm and resilient chest.
The presence of her master enveloped Qingge’s entire being, making her breathing somewhat labored. Sensing her tension, Ning Wang leaned closer to murmur in her ear, “Are you really that frightened, hmm?”
Hearing this, Qingge forcefully suppressed her instinct and grasped his strong arm. She then spoke up, her voice low and soft: “With Your Highness protecting me, this consort has nothing to fear.”
Ning Wang seemed quite pleased with her response. He encircled her slender waist with one hand and hugged her tightly. “Excellent. I do not like those so-called delicate boudoir ladies. All prim and proper, no fun at all.”
His voice retained its gentle tone as he spoke. Then, turning his head slightly in the midst of the falling rain, a cold-blooded command escaped from those same lips: “Kill.”
At the same time as he issued the command, his horse galloped forward. The wet road echoed with the thundering sound of hooves. The wind aggressively whipped the raincoat, producing a swishing noise, while fine raindrops lightly scattered across Qingge’s hair.
Behind her, the sound of clashing swords and sudden screams filled the air.
Those Xiyuan assassins were doomed never to return.
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This scene was just amazing !! I must say the translation is really nice, Keep up the good work !!!!