Chapter Fourteen: The Prince Wants to Kill Me
Page (1/3)
Shen Ningshuang took a deep breath and spoke slowly, “Your Highness, it’s not that I am unwilling to speak, but rather that I cannot. However, I can swear on my life that I will never do anything to harm you.”
Leng Yichen frowned slightly. He sensed the sincerity in her words, but it did little to quell his doubts.
“Then why should I believe you? If you truly have secrets you cannot speak of, why not seek your father instead of coming to me?”
Hearing him mention Shen Fengmo again, Shen Ningshuang couldn’t help but sigh and finally replied, “My father does not know about this, and I do not wish for him to find out.”
Inside, Leng Yichen’s emotions churned like a stormy sea. Rather than diminishing, his astonishment only intensified.
Shen Fengmo, as the head of the most powerful clan, was no ordinary man.
And Shen Ningshuang, his daughter, was nearly always under his watchful eye—yet he remained oblivious.
At this moment, Leng Yichen felt a headache coming on. This girl was like an inscrutable enigma, and he had no idea how to deal with her.
Logically, killing her would be the best choice.
She was clearly hiding something, her loyalties unclear, connected to some unknown power—it was safer to eliminate her sooner rather than later.
As for her secrets, those could still be investigated after death; as long as she had existed, traces would remain.
Shen Ningshuang stared unblinkingly at Leng Yichen’s expression, inwardly alarmed.
Through countless lifetimes, bound as husband and wife over long years, they had once shared smiles at dawn and whispered their hearts at dusk.
No one in this world understood this man better than she did.
But seeing him now, the cold murderous intent in his eyes was as tangible as a blade—he was serious.
She blamed fate silently. The mistiming had led to this terrible predicament.
In the previous life, they hadn’t met yet at this time. But now, fate had swept them forward, and the scene before her was far from what she had envisioned.
“Your Highness, I came only to plead for your help. If you refuse, I dare not insist. The night is deep; I will not disturb your rest any longer.”
“Hm? Trying to leave?”
With a swift sound, the treasured sword flashed like a snake emerging from its hole, its icy blade pressed instantly against Shen Ningshuang’s throat.
“We’ve met once—say your last words; consider them your dying wish.”
Shen Ningshuang rolled her eyes inwardly, cursing silently: This man’s temper was as petty as ever. Just for teasing him once, he held such a grudge that every trace of goodwill was gone.
“If I manage to escape your sword, will you promise to help me?”
“Hmph, interesting. Then you may begin now.”
Page (2/3)
A faint smirk curved Leng Yichen’s lips—a playful challenge to his prey.
Shen Ningshuang didn’t look at him; instead, she suddenly bent her body in an impossible arc to the side. At the same time, her delicate hand moved like lightning, striking the candle in the room with some unknown hidden weapon, extinguishing its flame.
Leng Yichen’s body reacted instinctively. His sword sliced through the air, cleaving fiercely toward the spot where Shen Ningshuang had vanished, sword qi cutting the night like a blade through silk.
Shen Ningshuang nimbly avoided two rounds of attacks and called out, “Your Highness, don’t you want your study anymore?”
The sword tip stopped again, pressing against her throat as she watched the flickering candle about to reignite on the floor. Annoyed, Leng Yichen frowned slightly.
The loud noise had finally stirred the guards. Leng Yichen shouted at the approaching figures, “Step back!”
Ye Feng’s footsteps halted abruptly, nearly bumping into the door.
He tentatively called out, “Master?”
“No matter.” The voice was low.
Ye Feng found it strange—besides Leng Yichen, he heard another presence inside. When had that person come in?
Recalling now, the voice seemed feminine.
Had his master secretly kept a concubine?
He pressed his ear against the door, eager to know what was happening.
“Step back!” came the order again.
He could only retreat with his men, disgruntled.
Inside, the fire was out, and Leng Yichen sheathed his sword, but his mind was restless.
“Your Highness, will you help me or not?”
“The Empress will hold a flower-viewing banquet in three days.”
Hearing this, Shen Ningshuang’s expression froze for a moment before she inwardly cursed herself.
As the Shen family’s legitimate daughter, she would surely receive an invitation, though she rarely attended such events. Shen Muyun, knowing her temperament, usually helped her decline.
Had she paid closer attention, she wouldn’t have come seeking death today.
Seeing her forced smile, Leng Yichen’s mood lightened somewhat.
“You owe me a favor—you said it yourself. Don’t forget.”
She replied bitterly, “Really troublesome for Your Highness…”
Page (3/3)
“Regretting it? I advise you not to, or you can attend the banquet, but I can’t guarantee the person you want to see will be there.”
Shen Ningshuang felt as if every organ in her body ached.
“I may be a woman, but my word is my bond.”
“Good. But I remind you, sparing your life tonight doesn’t mean I won’t strike another time. So before you die, you’d better repay this favor.”
A wave of helplessness surged in Shen Ningshuang’s heart.
“Your Highness, I truly pose no threat to you.”
“Is that so? A young woman with no weapons managed to last three moves against me. Either I’m too incompetent, or you’re extraordinary.”
“Then won’t Your Highness consider how to make this extraordinary one serve you?”
Leng Yichen let out a disdainful chuckle.
“You’re from the Shen family, a towering tree of power in court. Isn’t that enough support for you? With your status, becoming Empress is well within reach. What benefit would there be in siding with me? You’re smart—you wouldn’t make a losing deal.”
Shen Ningshuang approached the desk. Separated by the table, she looked up at Leng Yichen.
With a maturity beyond her years, she spoke slowly, “My status is indeed sufficient to ascend the throne, but that depends on whether the person on the dragon throne is worthy of my gaze and heart.”
She fixed him with a meaningful stare.
He saw in her eyes a thousand untold words and boundless depths—cunning, ruthlessness, strategy, and craft.
Leng Yichen couldn’t help but say, “You’re mad.”
“Your Highness, haven’t you considered this? What about Master Mingkong’s words?”
She knew Master Mingkong had read his fate?
His doubts deepened, but since he could get no answers and refused to linger in this oppressive atmosphere, he turned slightly away, no longer looking at her.
“It’s late. You should leave.”
“Are you afraid, Your Highness?”
Leng Yichen produced a dagger from somewhere. With a flick of his arm, it sliced through the air like a shooting star, embedding itself in the table with a resounding clang that made the entire desk tremble slightly.
“Are you determined to seek death?”