CHAPTER THREE — WAIT A MOMENT
That man was somewhere in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. Holding every thread of the situation in his hands. There was no way for her to guard against someone like that.
Tang Kexin stood half‑hidden among the gathered crowd, her gaze lifted just enough to observe without drawing attention.
The man seated in the centre was unmistakably the Crown Prince. His features were strikingly handsome, his bearing refined to the point of effortless perfection. His eyes — cool, composed, and razor‑sharp — suggested he missed nothing.
Tang Kexin's gaze drifted to the man seated on the Crown Prince's left, and she froze.
Sword‑straight brows. Eyes bright as starlight. Lips shaped with almost sculpted precision. He did not speak. He did not so much as twitch an eyebrow. Yet the air around him carried a commanding, unquestionable authority.
This had to be the famed Third Prince, Ye Lan.
Tang Kexin's heart gave a small, private sigh of relief. Even so, she dared not linger. Her gaze slid away at once.
Then she saw the man on the Crown Prince's right.
Skin smooth as polished jade. Phoenix‑shaped eyes tilted ever so slightly upwards. Dark pupils gleaming like deep autumn waters. When he lifted his gaze — only slightly — it was enough to unsettle the entire hall. And when the corner of his mouth curved into the faintest smile, it was the sort of expression that could topple kingdoms.
A single word from her old world drifted through Tang Kexin's mind:
Monstrous genius.
If anyone deserved such a title, it was him.
One prince was calm.
One was cold.
And the third — the one who smiled — was the most dangerous of all.
Tang Kexin prayed the man from last night was not any of them. If he was… she might as well start digging her own grave.
"Master Lu, have a look."
The Crown Prince's voice cut through the hall, commanding instant silence.
Master Lu stepped forward and lifted the white cloth covering the body. Several young ladies shrieked, but he remained unbothered, examining the corpse with clinical precision.
After a moment, he straightened.
"Your Highness, the deceased was not poisoned. There are no wounds. It was not a sudden illness."
"Then how did he die?" someone blurted out.
Tang Kexin narrowed her eyes.
"Your Highness," a voice called out suddenly, "when this humble subject awoke last night, I saw someone leaving the east wing. At the time, I thought nothing of it, but now it seems suspicious. The person came from Sir Lin's room — and he was clutching his left shoulder, as though injured."
A ripple of shock swept through the hall.
But no one was more stunned than Tang Kexin.
Her heart lurched painfully.
Her teeth clenched.
This was aimed at her.
Deliberate. Calculated.
Arranged by the man from last night.
He had bitten her left shoulder. The wound was deep. And now he was using that very detail to corner her.
Insidious. Treacherous. Utterly shameless.
"Then we shall inspect everyone," someone suggested smoothly. "Check for injuries on the left shoulder."
Of course.
Of course someone would follow up.
"Master Lu, inspect the male guests. Aunt Ping, inspect the ladies," the Crown Prince ordered.
A cold shiver ran down Tang Kexin's spine.
This was a trap.
A trap designed specifically for her.
If they found the wound, she would not survive long enough to explain anything. She would be fortunate to die quickly.
The inspection began.
One by one, the line grew shorter.
Five people ahead.
Four.
Three.
Her palms were damp. Her back was cold. Sweat gathered at her temples.
If she did not move now, she was finished.
Waiting for death had never been her style.
Just then, Mu Shaoyi returned to the hall, having already completed his inspection.
Mu Shaoyi — the most powerful figure in the original Tang Kexin's memories. Her fiancé. The man she had adored obsessively. The man she had chased relentlessly, to the point of becoming the capital's favourite joke.
Tang Kexin's eyes flicked rapidly.
A plan formed.
She launched herself at him.
"Darling! Scared, scared — the dead—!"
Drawing on the original girl's memories, she clung to Mu Shaoyi's arm with wide, foolish eyes and a trembling lip.
The hall fell silent.
Then came the whispers.
The snickers.
The familiar ridicule.
A fool behaving like a fool — nothing new.
Liu Ruyue, who had been approaching Mu Shaoyi, stopped dead, her expression twisting with barely concealed fury.
"Get off."
Mu Shaoyi's voice was cold with disgust.
He tried to shake her off — but she did not budge.
His eyes widened. He had used real strength. Yet she clung like a limpet.
"Darling, afraid… wuu… so scared…" Tang Kexin whimpered, clutching his sleeve.
Before he could react, she lifted his sleeve and wiped her tears on it.
"What are you doing?" Mu Shaoyi hissed, revulsion flashing across his face.
"Husband, I'm frightened… wuu…" she sobbed louder.
And then — with perfect, horrifying precision — she blew her nose into his sleeve.
The hall erupted into stunned silence.
Mu Shaoyi's expression darkened to a murderous shade.
He, the famously fastidious, had just been used as a handkerchief.
"Crown Prince," he snapped, "please allow me to change."
"Granted," the Crown Prince replied at once.
"Husband, don't leave me! I'm scared!" Tang Kexin wailed, following him.
No one stopped her.
Why would they?
She was just a fool.
As they neared the door, Tang Kexin's heart pounded.
Just a few more steps.
Just a little further.
Heaven, let this work.
"Wait a moment."
The voice was smooth. Beautiful.
And to Tang Kexin, it struck like a bolt of lightning.
Her entire body froze.