Chapter 847: Chapter 592 Endgame (2)
Playing the rogue is only natural.
He is still the same Chunyu Yan.
Feng Yun scoffed, "No wonder..."
"No wonder what?"
"No wonder you’re so shameless."
Feng Yun hadn’t cursed anyone in years.
As Empress, finding someone to challenge her was harder than ascending to heaven. Whenever something happened, she didn’t even need to change her expression before someone knelt to plead for mercy. Everyone catered to her whims, yet suddenly encountering someone obstinate like him had coaxed all her little tempers out.
Chunyu Yan let out a low laugh.
"Then, might I shamelessly request Her Majesty to step aside with me for a word?"
Feng Yun stared at him silently.
Chunyu Yan was not Xiang Zhong, the elderly eunuch who resorted to bluster when persuasion failed. He always had a way to succeed.
This man was impervious to both reason and force, unyielding and irrational, making anything said to him utterly futile.
Feng Yun’s smile disappeared. "Under the sky above us, standing firmly on the ground, what words cannot be spoken here? Prince of Yunchuan, if you’ve something to say, speak it—I’m listening."
Chunyu Yan lifted his hand lightly and signaled the soldiers around them to disperse, pointing to the courtyard with its wide-open gate by the street.
"Your Majesty, please."
In that moment, Feng Yun’s expression changed in shock.
People said a cunning fox always has many dens; Chunyu Yan likely had not three but a thousand and eight.
The carriage drove into the courtyard as Chunyu Yan instructed Xiang Zhong.
"Without my permission, no one is allowed near."
Xiang Zhong responded, "Understood."
-
In truth, Feng Yun wasn’t afraid of Chunyu Yan.
Avoiding him was merely to stave off "impropriety." While her reincarnated self no longer bore rigid moral chains of chastity, she had a husband and son—Rui Bao was still the current Crown Prince. Even if she didn’t fear gossip herself, there was her child to consider.
Over these years, she’d become much more reserved in her actions and careful with her words, ensuring she left no room for rumors.
That was why she did not wish to meet Chunyu Yan.
Yet as the two sat across from one another in the guest hall, like old friends reunited, she found nothing particularly awkward about it.
In the subtle silence, the still air lingered.
She was born beautiful, with fair skin and deep black, spirited eyes. Staring at him without revealing any emotion, Chunyu Yan immediately understood...
This woman would be his undoing.
He said, "Let’s talk."
Where to begin?
What to say?
Feng Yun said, "Wasn’t it Your Highness who asked me here? I’m listening to what you have to say."
Chunyu Yan’s eyes flickered slightly, smiling casually, "You’ve changed a lot."
Feng Yun met his gaze calmly. "And so have you."
Chunyu Yan: "I’m not joking."
Feng Yun: "Neither am I."
Chunyu Yan: ...
Feng Yun gazed steadily at him.
She truly thought so.
Chunyu Yan’s transformation wasn’t about physical appearance or the acquisition of a more fearsome and forbidding facade.
It was a shift that could be felt—a commanding aura more arresting than ever before...
From the moment Feng Yun stepped into the room and sat down, she’d sensed it.
His sharply sculpted profile, the shadowed intensity in his eyes—it was as if countless blades had carved into him, leaving innumerable marks. His gaze was no longer clear; it had become more ruthless, more piercing...
Chunyu Yan had been wicked before.
Wicked, pure and simple.
But now, there was no overt wickedness about him...
Instead, he exuded a power capable of "destroying others."
Feng Yun composed her thoughts, sitting upright and composed, outwardly relaxed.
"The Prince of Yunchuan would go to such lengths, even using force to summon me—surely it’s not merely for tea and idle chatter?"
Chunyu Yan simply smiled.
His dark hair was bound with a jade crown, his robes rich and stately. His gaze fixed squarely on her—those eyes, like Qiu Tong’s delicate waters, almost restored a trace of his former self.
"I’ve heard Her Majesty cares greatly about whether my health is well," he said.
Feng Yun was startled before chuckling softly.
"I care nothing of the sort. Polite words—no need for Your Highness to take them seriously."
Chunyu Yan let out an "oh" without a trace of anger.
They weren’t meeting for the first time after all. Feng Yun’s sharp tongue had said countless words far crueler than these; he remembered every single one.
Chunyu Yan had the urge to tear apart her smiling face.
"Then let me reciprocate your politeness."
"Oh?"
"I’m not doing well."
Feng Yun glanced at his luxurious brocade cloud-patterned robes before raising a brow with a sly smile. "Too much money weighing you down, perhaps?"
Chunyu Yan let out a silent laugh.
"You already know the answer. You understand."
Feng Yun’s lips twitched slightly before instinctively pressing them together.
She understood the meaning behind Chunyu Yan’s words.
This absurd truth, so bizarre that she couldn’t believe it—confirmed repeatedly by Yao Ru—still felt incredulous.
"All these years..."
She spoke with a touch of emotion, "Still unresolved?"
"Yes, all these years... Isn’t it remarkable?" Chunyu Yan’s eyes fixed on her. "There are plenty of women in the royal palace. If I wanted, I could switch to a different one every day."
Feng Yun: "And have you done so?"
Chunyu Yan did not answer.
Sometimes, he enjoyed leaving a hint of mystery, waiting for her to ask.
But Feng Yun clearly didn’t have the patience. Seeing his silence, she leaned forward slightly and, for the first time, sincerely apologized for what had transpired years ago.
"I was young then, acted too harshly, and didn’t anticipate the consequences. If it brought trouble to Your Highness, the fault was mine."
Chunyu Yan: "And that’s it?"
Feng Yun fell silent for a moment. "If it’s financial compensation, I could still provide. But for Your Highness’s ailments, I am powerless."
"If you had the heart, how could there be anything irreparable?" Chunyu Yan’s gaze swept over her delicate face, her narrow waist still lithe despite bearing children, as he curled his lip in a cold smile.
"Feng Shi Er, do you know what I think of every time I see you?"
The old nickname struck a chord deep within her.
The searing intensity of his gaze, like a blade ready to strip her bare, combined with the faint fragrance lingering in the air, made Feng Yun’s heart race suddenly.
"What you think of has nothing to do with me."
Chunyu Yan’s lips curved slowly as he leaned toward her, his expression teasing yet profound. He stared into her eyes and spoke with layered meaning, "Perhaps if I had you once, I could be cured."
Feng Yun’s expression shifted slightly.
He continued to look at her unflinchingly.
"It’s the longing that drives me mad. But once fulfilled, it might prove underwhelming..." His eyes seemed ablaze. "Feng Shi Er, just once? Please?"
"Prince of Yunchuan, mind your words!"
Feng Yun’s expression cooled as she glanced toward the window.
"The camp is bustling, His Majesty waits for my return. If Your Highness has no further matters, I’ll take my leave."
Saying this, she rose to leave.
Chunyu Yan reached out an arm to block her.
Feng Yun’s face darkened. "What else does Your Highness wish to instruct?"
"The whistling arrow," Chunyu Yan said.
His gaze raked over her boldly and unabashedly.
Feng Yun felt deeply unsettled.
Ever since becoming Empress, it had been a long time since anyone had dared look at her like this...
No one dared act presumptuously before her.
But Chunyu Yan dared.
He feared neither Pei Jue nor anyone else.
He was a madman unafraid of anything...
This time, he wagered Yunchuan’s centuries-old legacy in a gamble—what would he not dare to do?
Feng Yun: "What Your Highness gifted is naturally kept safe and treasured. How could it possibly be carried on my person at all times?"
Chunyu Yan let out a low chuckle, "Why don’t you blink when you lie?"
Feng Yun: "Why should I blink?"
Chunyu Yan stared directly at her, "You’re lying after all."
Feng Yun: "..."
Chunyu Yan: "Have you lost it?"
In truth, Feng Yun hadn’t.
The item was crafted exquisitely—how could she let it be lost?
She simply hadn’t brought it along when she left Xinjing.
"As long as it’s not lost," Chunyu Yan seemed to see through her or perhaps he’d long been worn down completely in dealing with Feng Yun. Even if she truly discarded it into a latrine, he could remain unruffled.
"Here," he said, producing another one from who-knows-where. It was still made of fine iron, shaped like a small date—large in the middle, tapering on both ends.
Seeing Feng Yun freeze, Chunyu Yan lowered his head, caught her hand, held the whistle hole in his mouth, and blew gently before speaking again, "It can act as a whistle or a whistling arrow. Feng Shi Er, when you need me, I’ll be there."
Warmth welled up in Feng Yun’s chest, and her skin tingled as if tiny ants crawled over her.
Such a gaze, such emotion—it didn’t belong on Chunyu Yan’s face, nor was it hers to bear.
"Apologies—I don’t need it..."
Before finishing her words, Chunyu Yan’s demeanor shifted.
The tender affection from a moment ago melted into icy indifference, his every word laced with ridicule.
"You’ve owed me so much—indulging me once wouldn’t hurt, would it?"
Feng Yun: "When did I ever owe you?"
Chunyu Yan: "You just apologized."
Feng Yun remained silent.
Chunyu Yan’s gaze softened once more.
"You only ever bully me. You know exactly how I feel about you, and you know... If I were to use force, you couldn’t escape. If I were crueler... That child of yours would’ve been mine, not Pei Wangzhi’s."
Feng Yun sneered.
Amidst his bitter and scornful words, she half-smiled, half-frowned, unable to suppress a trace of pity.
It was a bewildering sensation.
Over those long seven years, she had almost forgotten everything about Chunyu Yan, yet seeing him again now brought back memories vividly.
Especially that night at Tu Family Fort—she remembered it all.
He had said, "Help me, Feng Shi Er..."
"Even bullying me will do."
"Feng Shi Er, I feel terrible..."
With his tantrums and curses, high and mighty yet pitiful like an abandoned kitten or puppy, he would beg her and try to placate her only to ask her to pet him.
That was the scene that stood out most in her memory of Chunyu Yan.
Now before her was the Prince of Yunchuan.
Yet his expression and gestures seemed transported from the third year of Xinghe—still proud, still handsome, still gazing at her with such fervent urgency, asking only that she pet him.
"Feng Shi Er."
His eyes reddened as he called her.
"Feng Shi Er, can’t you say something sweet to me?"
Feng Yun suddenly lowered her head, staring at her toes, and laughed.
Chunyu Yan indeed had charming looks, and he deliberately posed to lure her in...
But, alas...
They lacked destiny.
Feng Yun’s mind flickered briefly, but her face remained solemn and indifferent, offering him not a trace of warmth before bowing formally.
"Then I must thank Your Highness deeply."
She had no intention of lingering and clenched the whistling arrow tightly in her palm as she bowed. Calling Xiaoman, she prepared to leave.
As she stepped forward, glancing at the soldiers on either side, a wave of hesitation and unease swept over her...
She worried Chunyu Yan might forcibly detain her again.
Though they were now within Dan Jun City, if Chunyu Yan genuinely intended to take action against her, her few retainers would surely be no match...
Even if Pei Jue arrived swiftly, he would only be in time to collect her corpse.
Nevertheless, Chunyu Yan did not prevent her departure.
He simply stood tall beneath the eaves of the courtyard wall, watching her coldly as she left, her form gradually disappearing—like a spring flower’s petals crushed to pieces in his line of sight...
