Qiu Yue pushed herself up, her hand clutching the back of her neck where the pain still burned. Her grip tightened around her sword, its blade dripping with blood. Step by step, she moved toward Lang Ruhua's body lying helpless on the floor.
High above, Lang Huan's silhouette flickered like a shadow against the smoke-filled sky. With a surge of inner force, she swept the flames aside, scattering the hungry fire into dying sparks.
Then her gaze fell on the eldest princess's room, the door was wide open, and Qiu Yue was nowhere in sight. A chill gripped her heart.
Why is the door open? Where is Qiu Yue?
She leapt down from the rooftop, landing softly yet urgently, and rushed inside. The sight before her stopped her breath: Qiu Yue stood with blood-stained hands, still clutching her sword. At her feet lay Lang Ruhua, motionless.
Without a second thought, Lang Huan shoved Qiu Yue aside and dropped to her knees, gathering Ruhua into her arms.
Her fingers traced the wounds covering Ruhua's body, her face pale, her skin cold as ice.
Lang Huan's hands trembled as she cradled the lifeless body in her arms."Ruhua… Ruhua… please wake up… please…" Her voice broke into sobs, trembling with desperation. Tears ran down her face as she shook the body again and again, calling her name, refusing to believe she was gone.
"Your Highness!" Lang Huan suddenly turned, rushing to the bed where the eldest princess lay. She hovered her hand above Feng Yao's lips, then pressed gently against her chest, her breath was steady, her pulse calm. Relief washed through her like a fragile light in the darkness.
Yet she refused to give up. Clutching Lang Ruhua's body tightly, she pressed her lips against Ruhua's cold ones, trying to pass her Qi into the woman. Her energy poured out desperately, but it was useless. "Please… don't leave me…"
Qiu Yue stood frozen. But when her eyes fell upon Lang Huan—kissing and holding another woman so tenderly her fury ignited. "How dare you embrace and kiss another woman! You are already the Prince Consort!"
Lang Huan slowly raised her head. Her tear-streaked eyes glowed with an eerie blue light. In that instant, a murderous aura burst from her body like a raging storm.
The windows rattled, tables and chairs shook, and even the heavy door tore off its hinges, crashing into the wall with a deafening boom. The entire chamber trembled as if it might collapse under her wrath.
Lang Huan thrust her palm forward, unleashing a powerful wave of Qi toward Qiu Yue. Master Xuan Kai dashed into the room at the last second, throwing out his palm to block.
The collision shook the chamber, splintering wood and shattering furniture. The impact sent both Master Xuan Kai and Qiu Yue flying across the floor, blood spilling from their mouths.
Lang Huan's gaze locked onto Qiu Yue, filled with hatred and grief. She lifted Lang Ruhua's lifeless body into her arms and vanished into the darkness. Her voice echoed like a curse: "You killed her. I will make you pay"
Qiu Yue struggled to lift her head. "I…" She wanted to refute, to explain, but her body was too weak after taking Lang Huan's strike. The words died in her throat, drowned by pain.
---
In the heavy silence, Lang Huan cradled Lang Ruhua's lifeless body in her arms.
Deep down, she had always known that the beautiful woman loved her but she had shut her eyes and heart to it, because all along, her own feelings belonged to the princess. The realization cut through her chest like a blade.
Tears blurred her vision as memories flooded in: Lang Ruhua's selfless act to heal the eldest princess. With trembling hands, Lang Huan pressed a kiss to her cold lips, then to her pale cheek, her whole body shaking as grief swallowed her.
"You were so cruel to me…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why did you leave me? How can I ever repay your kindness…?" Her sobs deepened as she pressed her forehead to Ruhua's. "If there is a next life… let me be the one to do everything for you."
The first light of dawn spilled across the mountain peak, painting the snow and stone in pale gold. "Ruhua… Ruhua…" Lang Huan whispered. She called her name again and again, holding on as if the sound alone could draw her soul back into the world.
The silence was finally broken by A Li's voice. "My lord Prince Consort, Her Highness is looking for you…"
Lang Huan lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen. "Her Highness… has awakened?"
A Li nodded. "Miss Lang's body—let me and Wu Ming take care of it. Please, Prince Consort, do not trouble yourself. And… there is something I must remind you."
She hesitated before continuing. 'My lord, it seems your relationship with Miss Lang was far from ordinary. She sacrificed herself to heal Her Highness, and that alone speaks volumes about her feelings toward you. But you must also understand Her Highness's nature. For your own sake, it would be wise to restrain your feeling."
When A Li and Wu Ming gently took Lang Ruhua's body from her arms. She kept staring at her face, memorizing every feature, every curve of the lips that would never smile at her again.
At last, A Li's soft voice urged her to let go, and Wu Ming's steady hands carried the body away. Only then did she close her eyes, clutching her chest as if to hold in the unbearable pain.
With heavy steps, Lang Huan returned to the princess's room. She stood at the doorway for a long moment, her face pale, her eyes still red.
Finally, she stepped inside. Lang Huan frowned—for in such a short time, the princess looked very healthy, seated before her mirror.
Feng Yao was not only radiant and full of vigor, as if she had never been poisoned but her beauty seemed even more striking, almost younger than before. The thought stirred unease in Lang Huan's heart: What kind of healing art had Lang Ruhua used…?
Noticing Lang Huan standing silently by the dressing table, Feng Yao lifted her hand, dismissing the maids. Once they were alone, her royal composure slipped away. She reached out, tugged firmly at Lang Huan's collar, and bent her forward. Their lips met, tongues intertwining as they pressed hungrily against each other.
Lang Huan bit gently at Feng Yao's lower lip, then sucked on her tongue, drawing a soft moan from her. Her kisses trailed down to Feng Yao's jaw, dragging her lips along the smooth line of her throat. The moist whisper of each kiss, and the slick trail she left behind, made Feng Yao tremble—helpless beneath her touch.
"Hmmm… little monkey…" Feng Yao gasped, her voice breaking into a shiver.
Lang Huan stopped and stared at Feng Yao, surprised and afraid she had misheard. "What did you say?"