"Your Majesty!" The female black bodyguard had barely finished speaking when a peculiar voice, tinged with an odd cadence, resonated through the room. A man in his early thirties, clad in an eccentric robe, strode in with dramatic flair. Upon entering, he immediately approached the Empress, kneeling deeply in an ostentatious gesture of reverence.
The Empress inclined her head ever so slightly in acknowledgment. "What brings you here, Uncle?" she asked, her tone polite but distant.
"Oh, nothing of great consequence!" The robed man shook his head, a theatrical smile gracing his lips. "I merely heard that Your Majesty is hosting distinguished guests and thought it imperative to make their acquaintance."
Without waiting for an introduction, he turned directly to Xiang Ri. "This young gentleman, I presume, must be the esteemed visitor from the mysterious Eastern nation? I have long admired its ancient and illustrious culture. It is one of the world's oldest civilizations, a fact that fills me with boundless awe and reverence."
Pausing dramatically, the robed man's expression became inscrutable. "However, there is a certain phrase I encountered recently in your literature that continues to baffle me. Might I trouble you, honored guest, to shed some light on its meaning?"
A chill ran down Xiang Ri's spine. He regarded the man before him—an apparent clown masquerading in regal garb—and resisted the urge to laugh aloud at his theatrical demeanor. Still, mindful of his precarious position, he masked his thoughts behind a polished façade and responded with a courteous smile. "It would be my pleasure to assist."
"Oh, splendid!" The robed man clapped his hands together, his excitement barely concealing a sinister undertone lurking in his gaze. "Might you, young gentleman, explain the meaning of the phrase 'minding one's own business and staying aloof'?"
Xiang Ri's eyes darkened briefly before he swiftly regained composure. If his instincts were correct, this "prince" was undoubtedly the very target of his mission.
While others might fail to grasp the insinuation behind the question, Xiang Ri understood it all too well. The veiled barb accused him of meddling in affairs that were none of his concern—specifically, his involvement in saving the golden-haired Empress and her entourage back in their homeland.
The implications were clear. This self-proclaimed prince harbored ambitions tied to the Empress's abdication rumors. He likely viewed Xiang Ri as an obstacle, someone who had thwarted his plans and therefore deserved his enmity.
Feigning indifference, Xiang Ri responded with calculated calm. "That phrase is indeed straightforward, Your Highness. However, before explaining its meaning, allow me to introduce you to another saying that stands in direct opposition to it…"
"I am all ears," the robed man replied with an exaggerated show of curiosity, his eager smile failing to mask the tension simmering between them.
The two women nearby, oblivious to the undercurrents in their exchange, assumed the spirited discussion was a meeting of like minds. Fang Yingying, however, found herself puzzled. This playboy scion, who typically prioritized charming women, was now engaged in a serious conversation with another man. Could it be that he harbored unconventional preferences?
She quickly dismissed the thought, certain that this notorious womanizer had no such inclinations. Besides, the eccentric prince—whose peculiar appearance resembled something out of *The Hunchback of Notre Dame*—was unlikely to pique his interest.
Still, a mischievous hope flickered in Fang Yingying's mind. Perhaps, just perhaps, if he were indeed a deviant, fewer women would fall victim to his charms.
Unaware of the secretary's musings, Xiang Ri suppressed the urge to punch the clownish prince and continued, his voice steady. "Your Highness, have you ever encountered the saying, 'to draw one's sword to right a wrong'?"
The robed man's face momentarily froze, his expression betraying his unease before he quickly recovered. Spotting the thick bandages wrapped around Xiang Ri's right hand, he seized the opportunity to shift the topic. With feigned astonishment, he exclaimed loudly, "Oh my! What an incredible sight! Tell me, young gentleman, what happened to your hand? Did you injure yourself doing something… inadvisable? Be careful, for luck may not always be on your side. Next time, you might not escape so lightly!"
Xiang Ri's smile widened, his voice tinged with menace. "I appreciate Your Highness's concern. But rather than worry about my fate, perhaps it's better to consider whether certain individuals might not wake up from their slumber one night."
The two women immediately sensed the shift in tone. The Empress frowned at the robed man, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Uncle Sork," she began, her voice cold and clipped.
Before she could continue, the robed prince interrupted with a flourish. "Ah, forgive my bluntness, Your Majesty!" He turned back to Xiang Ri, plastering on a contrived smile. "I must apologize, young gentleman, if my words inadvertently caused offense. Surely, a scholar devoted to studying foreign cultures would not intend to be rude."
"Of course not," Xiang Ri replied, his grin laced with sardonic amusement. "I was merely pondering how long such a scholar might continue his studies."
"Splendid! Truly splendid!" The robed prince laughed boisterously, as though oblivious to the underlying threat. Then, noticing Fang Yingying, his theatrics escalated. "Oh, heavens above! Have I just beheld an angel? Forgive my audacity, dear lady, but might I inquire—did you descend from the heavens themselves?"
"Thank you for your kind words, but you flatter me," Fang, the secretary, replied courteously despite finding the man's tone unbearably sycophantic. After all, she was in someone else's home and could not afford to be as unrestrained as a certain someone.
"My apologies! It's just that you are so stunningly beautiful," the man persisted, though his face betrayed no trace of the humility his words implied. Instead, with an obsequious grin, he continued, "May I have the honor of offering you a hand-kiss, my lovely lady?"
Fang's entire body stiffened. Before she could respond, the man had already seized her left hand and began guiding it toward his lips.
A wave of revulsion surged through her as she suppressed the urge to snatch her hand away. Feeling utterly helpless, she lamented her situation—had she known she would endure such humiliation from this grotesque "hunchback," she would never have accompanied the group here.
As her dainty, well-maintained hand, pale and soft from careful grooming, drew dangerously close to the man's yellowed, triangular teeth, Fang shut her eyes tightly. Resigned, she braced herself, telling herself it was akin to being bitten by a rabid dog—something she could later scrub away thoroughly.
"Hold on, Your Highness!" At the last moment, just as the man's lips were mere inches from her hand, Xiang Ri stepped forward and clasped Fang's delicate hand in his own. Facing the startled and increasingly furious countenance of the odd prince, Xiang Ri said calmly, "Forgive me, Your Highness, but such gestures are not customary for our women."
Originally, Xiang Ri had intended to watch the spectacle unfold, amused at the prospect of Fang making a fool of herself. However, seeing her close her eyes in reluctant surrender stirred a rare pang of sympathy in him, compelling him to intervene and spare her further embarrassment.
"You..." Despite his usually impenetrable demeanor, the clownish prince's face darkened visibly with anger.
Fang, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming sense of relief, momentarily forgetting that her hand remained firmly in Xiang Ri's grasp. Her earlier terror had almost caused her to faint—anything to avoid the repulsive thought of the prince's saliva. To her surprise, the notorious playboy had come to her rescue in her moment of need.
If Xiang Ri had known that his chivalry would be reduced in Fang's mind to merely "behaving like a decent human being for once," he might have gleefully stuffed her hand into the prince's mouth. But, oblivious to her inner monologue, he was content with having spared her from her predicament.
The affronted prince, however, felt humiliated beyond measure. After casting a venomous glare at the man who had disgraced him, he stormed out of the drawing room without even a parting gesture toward the Queen.
"Let go of my hand!" Fang snapped as she regained her composure and realized her hand was still clasped in Xiang Ri's. She shot him a death glare.
"Ah, my apologies. I must have forgotten," Xiang Ri replied nonchalantly, releasing her hand. However, just before letting go, he gave her fingers a light squeeze—entirely out of habit, he swore.
"You..." Fang's expression turned icy, but mindful of their host's presence, she held back her simmering rage.
Xiang Ri, meanwhile, reveled in his small triumph. The softness of her hand, its faint coolness, and the lingering fragrance captivated him. He feigned rubbing his nose while discreetly savoring the scent.
"Mr. Xiang, and you as well, my lady—I must apologize for what has transpired today," the Queen said, breaking the tense silence.
"No, you needn't apologize, Miss Trew. In truth, it is we who owe you an apology," Fang replied, glancing briefly at the carefree playboy beside her before stepping closer to the golden-haired Queen.
"Thank you," the Queen said with a grateful smile, then turned her gaze to Xiang Ri, who was calmly sipping his wine. Her next words were cryptic: "Mr. Xiang, I presume you knew all along?"
Xiang Ri's hand paused mid-motion. Then, with an air of indifference, he drained the rest of his glass in one swift motion. "As a matter of fact, I only just found out," he said.
Afterward, he poured himself another drink as though nothing significant had occurred. Yet, within his heart, he knew the Queen had already deduced the identity of the mastermind behind the attempt on her life.
Such matters were not difficult to deduce. The moment they arrived, the clownish prince appeared shortly after, having clearly been informed of their presence. It was evident that he had stationed people in the shadows to monitor every move made in this place. A little reflection would reveal that such surveillance could only stem from ulterior motives—why else would he spy on them so meticulously? Moreover, while the contents of the conversation between Xiang Ri and the prince might have been lost on a certain secretary, the Queen, who had also experienced assassination attempts, would undoubtedly understand the underlying implications.
"You two…" Fang Yinying murmured, utterly baffled by the cryptic exchange between the Queen and Xiang Ri. The complexity of their words left her entirely in the dark.
"Mr. Xiang, perhaps it would be best if the two of you stayed here tonight," the Queen suggested after a brief pause.
Xiang Ri immediately grasped her concern—it was a matter of safety. With her retinue of bodyguards, this place was far less accessible to assassins. However, before he could respond, the ever-unthinking secretary had already rejected the Queen's thoughtful offer.
"That won't be necessary, Miss Trew. We have an important banquet to attend this evening. Please forgive us," Fang said decisively.
Foolish woman!
Xiang Ri suppressed the urge to lash out. What banquet could possibly matter more than her life?
While Xiang Ri was unconcerned for his own safety, he had already resolved to eliminate the clownish prince later that night. The problem, however, was the secretary—this woman, all looks and no sense, lacked even the slightest ability to protect herself. If he left her to her own devices, those assassins could do whatever they pleased, and she would be utterly defenseless.
Should she choose not to remain here tonight, Xiang Ri would find himself unable to focus on his task of eliminating the prince, for he would also need to ensure her safety. And while she often clashed with him, he could not simply stand by and watch her perish. Besides, deep down, he harbored a sliver of... something else for her.