Chapter 69: Do You Like Me?

Most likely, Qiao Muting himself didn’t even realize just how much old jealousy he’d let simmer through this meal.

During dinner, Hua Cheng excused himself to the restroom, and Qiao Muting turned to look at Fang Wenjie. Sensing the cue, old Fang quickly got up to follow Hua Cheng.

Now only Qiao Muting and Qian Lai were left at the table.

“Last night, you snuck out—did you go to his place?” He lowered his voice, determined to clear up every doubt swirling in his mind.

“Yes,” Qian Lai replied.

What on earth was happening? First the wind, then the water—was it the heavens’ intent to destroy Hailong City? Countless people harbored such thoughts, and the dying cries of many echoed throughout the city.

Judging from His Majesty’s condition, there might never be another chance for her to speak these words, so she decided to pour everything out like spilling bamboo tubes of beans. She told all she knew: how Consort Wei Xian had betrayed her sisters, how she used Wei Taozhu to approach the Emperor, how she schemed step by step to cause her miscarriage, leaving her disheartened enough to flee to Yangzhou.

His eyes snapped open, shooting out two beams of light. At the same time, an overwhelming pressure of soul force burst directly from his head.

“In any case, Xun’er is already married. There’s no need to worry about her finding a match,” Mu Qianxun responded with a cheerful smile, completely unconcerned.

She had long since heard the news: Guo Cong had drunk too much at the birthday banquet and had shut his courtyard door early to rest. By this hour, he should have been deep in sleep. So why was there no one in the room?

With such a support, not only would the bottom lane be a breeze, but the other lanes would also have little to worry about.

After leaving the main hall, Zhuge Jinnian let a faint smile slip across his lips; he really ought to thank Ye Feng.

With that, he leapt from his horse, turned toward Monkey Head Peak, and bowed deeply three times. The officers and soldiers behind him all dismounted, imitating his gesture, and bowed three times to Monkey Head Peak.

Long Bing felt a touch of melancholy. He thought, perhaps if one day he fell on the battlefield, he’d rather have his ashes scattered than be revered as a monument for others to look up to.

Having witnessed Jiang Beicheng’s prowess earlier that day, Yang Wang was well aware of the gulf between them. He was certainly no match for him—he couldn’t even withstand a single blow.

Perhaps it was the shock of running into someone she hadn’t seen in three years—An Xia’s first day of university was utter chaos; she kept making mistakes even when filling out her freshman registration forms.

He had just imagined the situation in his mind—how did she seem almost like a fairy, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking?

The world loves to be flattered, and the Cold Prince’s consort was no exception. Yet she did not show it, merely tugged at the corners of her lips. With elegant poise, she set her teacup aside and spoke slowly.

His anger flared with his blood, surging beyond control. All restraint vanished. He shoved her against the wall, and the instant he entered, that familiar yet foreign sense of tightness seized him, as if gripping his very soul. His mind went blank, and a soundless sigh escaped his lips.

The meaning was clear: this was a matter between her and Fu Shenxing. The bald man was merely an obedient pawn, innocently caught in the crossfire.

Although the police were powerless for lack of evidence, the Zhang family would not let the matter rest so easily.

Shui Yingyue’s eyes grew misty as she glimpsed a vague, ethereal figure—sometimes sitting cross-legged upon jade, sometimes lying serenely within, as though in deep contemplation.

She said nothing, but her body trembled uncontrollably, the shaking intensifying even as he gripped her shoulders, unable to quell it in the least. For some reason, he suddenly recalled that time in the hotel, when he’d cruelly tormented her, deliberately broadcasting her video in the lobby. She had trembled just like this then.

“It’s just an illusion conjured by Hang Yi’s superpower. We’re still in your living room,” Lu Hua said, though his tone was far from certain.