Lang Huan gritted her teeth, trying to hold back her frustration. In the end, she gave up and sat down in front of the bamboo door. She leaned against it, closed her eyes, and slowly drifted into sleep.
Inside, Feng Xiyan noticed the sudden silence. She walked over and opened the door—only to find Lang Huan falling backward, right at her feet.
Feng Xiyan blinked in surprise. "Why are you sleeping in front of the door? We're both women—just come inside," she said, her tone unusually kind.
Lang Huan rolled her eyes. Seriously? She kicked me out, and now she's suddenly being nice? This girl must have mental problems… Too bad there are no psychiatrists in this era.
Deciding not to argue, Lang Huan stood up, brushed herself off, and walked back into the bedroom. Without saying another word, she threw herself onto the bed and lay down, shifting a little to make space for Feng Xiyan beside her.
"It's already morning," she said quietly, eyes half-closed. "You should sleep a bit more. After that, we'll try to catch up with the others. Who knows—we might still find them.
She pulled the blanket up and turned her back, ready to escape the chaos of the night through sleep, even just for a little while.
Feng Xiyan snorted. "Doesn't your mouth ever get tired from talking so much?" she said as she poured some tea into a cup and handed it to Lang Huan.
Lang Huan sat up with a frown, eyeing the cup suspiciously. "Did you poison this tea?"
She held it carefully, sniffing the steam. Her eyes narrowed. "Wait… don't tell me this is your bathwater."
"Hmph! If you don't want it, then forget it!" Feng Xiyan huffed and reached to take the cup back, pretending to be annoyed.
Lang Huan slapped her hand away and gave the tea another sniff—then suddenly gagged. "Ugh! What is this? It smells awful!"
The Eighth Princess didn't believe her. She grabbed the cup and took a sniff herself.
"Ugh!" Her face twisted in disgust. Her plan was completely ruined.
Seeing her sulk, Lang Huan rolled her eyes and spoke lazily, "Why are you so mad? Just make a new pot of tea."
Then she lay back down like she didn't care at all and closed her eyes again.
Feng Xiyan turned to make a new pot of tea, but before she stepped out, Lang Huan's voice came from behind her. "Be careful when you boil the water! Don't burn the house down!"
"One day, I'll stuff your mouth with tea leaves," Feng Xiyan muttered under her breath as she walked out of the room.
She didn't even know how to use the clay stove—let alone boil water. So instead, she grabbed a clean teapot, filled it with cold water, dropped in some tea leaves, and quietly added a bit of aphrodisiac.
Back inside, Lang Huan had already fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep, completely unaware of what was going on.
Feng Xiyan returned with the new teapot. She stared at the tea, waiting for the color to change—hoping it would look convincing. But the water was cold. Nothing happened. The leaves just floated uselessly.
She sighed in frustration and gave up. Carefully, she poured a cup and set it down near Lang Huan. Then she sat at the edge of the bed, her eyes quietly watching the sleeping woman beside her.
Bitterness rose in her chest.
I acted weak and pretended to be hurt… all just to get close to her. But in the end, all I ever got was her pity, not her love.
Feng Xiyan leaned closer and gently shook her. "Lang Huan… Lang Huan…" she whispered softly.
Lang Huan slowly opened her eyes, still half-asleep. "Hmm?"
"I brought you some fresh, boiled tea," Feng Xiyan said with a proud little smile.
Inside, Lang Huan was screaming. What kind of tea is this? Couldn't you wait until later? Would you die if I didn't drink your tea right now?
She sighed and slowly sat up. "Fine…"
Just as she was about to take the teacup, Feng Xiyan hesitated. Her eyes searched Lang Huan's face. Then she asked in a trembling voice "Is there… even a little bit of love in your heart for me?"
Lang Huan froze. she gently touched Feng Xiyan's forehead, wondering if the girl had a fever.
"…Are you feeling sick?" she asked, confused.
"Ehem… Feng Xiyan…. Do you understand what love truly is? Loving someone isn't that simple. In the old beliefs, true love is bound by fate. They say it takes hundreds of reincarnations just to meet your destined one. Only with the blessing of the heavens can two souls recognize each other… and walk the same path. Not everyone we meet in this life is meant for us. Some people are just passing by—like the wind that never stays."
"Just say no if you don't have even a bit of love for me. What's the point of going on and on with all that nonsense?" the Eighth Princess snapped. "Drink your tea—and don't call me by my name!"
Lang Huan took the cup from Feng Xiyan. After talking so much, her throat was dry, and she really was thirsty. Without any suspicion, she sipped the tea slowly.
Once she finished, she lay back down on the bed, hoping to finally get some rest.
But not long after, something started to feel… off. A strange warmth spread from her chest down to her stomach. Her body began to heat up. She tried to sit up, but her strength was gone—completely limp.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing and focus. But the heat didn't fade. It grew worse. Her skin began to tingle, and a strange itchiness crept under her skin. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't concentrate.
Her breath became uneven. Her eyes were hazy as Her thighs brushed together unconsciously, trying to relieve the strange tension building inside her.
Feng Xiyan knew the aphrodisiac had taken effect.
Lang Huan lay helpless on the bed, her cheeks burning. Her body caught in a wave of heat she couldn't control.
Feng Xiyan smiled and slowly removed her outer robes one by one, letting the silk fall to the floor. All that remained was her thin bellyband and panties. Her heartbeat was wild, a mix of curiosity and desire. She climbed onto the bed, carefully straddling Lang Huan. The moment their bodies touched, warmth sparked between them.
She leaned in, until their faces were only inches apart. Her lips brushed against Lang Huan's lower lip, then her chin, tasting the warmth of her skin—and then she kissed her deeply.
It was Feng Xiyan's first kiss. Her body trembled from head to toe. A wave of heat swelled in her lower abdomen, flooding her senses.
Lang Huan could feel Feng Xiyan's touch soothing her, but it wasn't enough.
---
The Eldest Princess had been traveling for days, riding on the back of Xiao Bai—a giant white wolf with thick fur that kept her warm from the cold mountain winds. Xiao Bai's steady pace and gentle nature made the long journey feel a little easier. She didn't need any horse-riding skills; the spiritual beast understood her perfectly and moved with instinct, as if it could read her thoughts.
Guided by Xiao Bai, they crossed deep forests, icy rivers, and narrow mountain paths. And then—finally—they arrived at a hidden paradise beneath the cliffs.
A vast field of wildflowers stretched before them, swaying gently in the breeze. The air was fresh and light, filled with the soft fragrance of blooming petals. For the first time in days, the harshness of their expedition melted into peacefulness.
Qiu Yue, riding beside her, looked around in awe. "Your Highness," she said softly, "would you like to rest here for a while?"
But the Eldest Princess shook her head. Her eyes stayed focused ahead. "I'm not tired."
Xiao Bai sped up, his large paws hitting the ground with force, as if chasing something only he could sense. "Xiao Bai?" Feng Yao gripped his rein tightly, startled by the unexpected burst of energy.
Behind them, Qiu Yue and the other guards were thrown off pace. They urged their horses to catch up, but even their strongest mares couldn't keep up with the giant white wolf.
Xiao Bai stopped in front of a small bamboo house hidden among the trees. Feng Yao's eyes narrowed at the quiet house. Her expression was calm, but her fingers were clenched tightly around the reins.
As soon as she saw Qiu Yue arriving on her horse, Feng Yao gave a command. "Qiu Yue, check the house."
Qiu Yue jumped down from her horse and hurried toward the small bamboo house. She knocked on the bamboo door—once, twice. No answer.
Cautiously, she pushed the door open and stepped inside without a sound.
She took a step forward. A faint whisper reached her ears. "Lang Huan, you want me… touch me…"
Qiu Yue's heart jumped. It was the eighth princess's voice.
"No… please go away…"
Lang Huan tried to hold on to a sliver of rationality. Though her mind was hazy, she hadn't completely given in.
Outside the room, Qiu Yue stood frozen. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. Anger boiled in her chest. She remembered how much the Eldest Princess had worried about Lang Huan—how she had searched for her without rest.
And now… Lang Huan was tangled up in a secret moment with the Eighth Princess?
Qiu Yue couldn't hide her disappointment. She turned and ran straight to Feng Yao.
"Your Highness…" she said, breathing heavily, "Lang Huan and the Eighth Princess… they're…"
She hesitated. The words felt too painful to say.
"Lang Huan is here?" Feng Yao asked, her voice brimming with joy. Without waiting for an answer, she climbed down from the wolf's back and rushed toward the bamboo house.