Chapter 6: Heartbeat

Chapter 6: A Stirring Heart

Jing Lan.

The name Jing Lan immediately clicked with Qiao Wan; she knew exactly who he was.

He was the only son of General Jing Rong, the Great General Who Pacifies the Nation, a man even Qiao Heng held in high esteem.

And he was that wastrel whose "reputation" in Lingjing City was no less notorious than her own.

In the past, during festive occasions, the palace would host banquets where officials of the fourth rank and above could bring their families.

When Qiao Wan was younger, she had once seen Jing Lan at a Spring Festival banquet. They seemed to be of similar age, and he was then as exquisitely beautiful as a carved jade figurine. She had even initiated a conversation with him and had Yicui share a few steaming *fuyuanzi* (sweet dumplings) with him.

However, a few days later, at the Ceremony of Worshiping Heaven, after Qiao Qingni’s performance of the "Cloud Robe Song" gained widespread fame, his gaze seemed perpetually fixed on Qiao Qingni, and Qiao Wan simply couldn't be bothered with him anymore.

After that, General Jing Rong spent most of his time at the border, attending palace banquets only three or four times, so the two of them had little interaction.

If Qiao Heng hadn't mentioned arranging a marriage between her and Jing Lan some time ago, prompting her to have someone investigate him and discover he was confined to his residence by Jing Rong, she would have long forgotten about him.

Now, hearing him declare that "she and the Third Princess were as different as clouds and mud," and even daring to seize her whip, Qiao Wan’s anger flared instantly. She tightened her grip on the whip and snapped, "Take your filthy hands off my whip!"

Upon hearing this, Jing Lan not only refused to let go but tightened his grip, curling his lips into a sneer. "Should I let go so everyone can watch Princess Changle throw a tantrum in the street?"

Qiao Wan glared at him. "Who are you calling a tantrum-thrower?"

Jing Lan, not to be outdone, raised a dashing eyebrow, a smug expression on his face. "You," he said, appraising her. "In looks, talent, poetry, or song—which of these can you compare to the Third Princess?"

"No wonder. With Princess Changle’s temperament, I suppose no one dared to teach you any decorum or propriety."

Qiao Wan’s eyes widened, and she forced out a smile through her rage, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Indeed, I can’t compare to Young Master Jing, with such strict family discipline. I suppose your esteemed mother taught Young Master Jing very well?"

Everyone knew that Jing Lan’s mother had passed away shortly after his birth. Although General Jing had remarried, he never had any more children. With no one to discipline him, Jing Lan had grown into the wastrel he was today.

Jing Lan’s face indeed darkened. He stared at her with a forced smile, then, with a sudden yank, pulled the whip away.

Qiao Wan felt the whip burn against her palm, let out a soft cry, and looked down to see a red mark.

Jing Lan hadn’t expected her to truly refuse to let go. He frowned, growing impatient.

Not long ago, he had merely lost five thousand taels of silver at a gambling den, and that old man had sent four battle-hardened soldiers to tie him up and drag him back, grounding him for a full twenty days. He had only just been released from the ancestral hall these past couple of days.

No sooner had he stepped out than he heard that the Emperor had recently been considering selecting a husband for Princess Changle. Moreover, on the same day the Emperor summoned Princess Changle to the palace, he had also summoned the old man overnight.

Yesterday, he had asked the old man if the Emperor intended to arrange a marriage between him and Princess Changle. The old man nodded and said, "His Majesty has mentioned it. Although it’s not yet finalized, it is the Emperor’s will. If a marriage is indeed bestowed, it must not be opposed."

Jing Lan laughed in anger right then, instantly guessing that Princess Changle must have brought him up in front of the Emperor, leading to the idea of arranging a marriage between them. So he decided to seek out Qiao Wan directly.

Today, upon seeing Qiao Wan, he happened to catch her whipping someone in the street, reinforcing his belief that he had made the right choice.

Such a malicious person—whoever married her would be cursed.

Jing Lan gripped the whip, adorned with gold-inlaid red jade. "Go tell my old man that you absolutely will not marry me, and I’ll return your whip."

Qiao Wan was still looking at the red mark on her palm. The burning sensation had faded, leaving only a stinging pain.

She lifted her head and glared fiercely at Jing Lan, deliberately opposing him. "This princess refuses to go. What can you do about it?"

Jing Lan was also angered. No matter how reckless he might be, he would never gamble with matters of lifelong importance. "If you don’t go, I’ll destroy your whip!"

"You dare!" Qiao Wan fumed, but then she thought of something and curved her lips into a smile. "You don’t want to marry me, yet you’re forcing me to defy your father. Why don’t you defy him yourself?" She raised her eyebrows mockingly. "And you call yourself a wastrel? I think you’re more of a good-for-nothing!"

"Qiao Wan!" Jing Lan turned around, glaring at her, his beautiful eyes seeming to spit fire. The next moment, he swung the whip toward her.

Qiao Wan’s clumsy skills only allowed her to scramble aside in a flurry. The whip barely grazed her cheek, and her eyes widened. "You dare strike this princess?"

Jing Lan didn’t respond, swinging again.

Not far away, Mu Chi watched with a faint smile as Qiao Wan awkwardly dodged, his gaze fixed on her face. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, her eyes slightly red, yet her pupils blazed brightly with a mix of rage and laughter, carrying a willful fierceness.

Just like... the expression she had when shielding him earlier.

Mu Chi recalled what Jing Lan had said earlier and lowered his eyes in thought.

The Emperor intended to arrange a marriage between Jing Lan and Qiao Wan.

And it wouldn’t be long before he obtained the antidote. When the time came, he would need a perfect reason to leave the princess’s residence.

Mu Chi slowly shifted his gaze to Jing Lan. It seemed he held deep infatuation for the Third Princess.

A wastrel like him—was he even worthy?

He was a perfect match for the domineering and willful Qiao Wan.

On the other side, although Jing Lan found Qiao Wan malicious, she was, after all, a woman. Each of his strikes only barely grazed her, intending only to teach her a lesson.

Unexpectedly, Qiao Wan calculated that he wouldn’t dare harm her seriously and charged at him repeatedly. By sheer luck, she managed to rush directly in front of Jing Lan.

Then she looked up, tilting her head and smiling at him.

Jing Lan, seeing the strange smile on Qiao Wan’s flushed face so close to his, froze with the whip in hand. The next moment, he saw Qiao Wan lift her foot, draw an exquisite dagger from her ankle, and thrust it toward his hand.

Startled, Jing Lan could no longer hold back. He raised the whip horizontally, as if about to strike Qiao Wan across the face.

"Princess, be careful." A voice filled with feigned concern sounded from the side.

Qiao Wan felt a faint orchid-like cold fragrance waft through the air as an icy hand grasped her wrist. The hand was as pale and translucent as fine white jade, with the character "Wan" carved into the web between his thumb and index finger, already scabbed but now split open from the force, beads of blood seeping out.

Then, she was pulled into a cold embrace. The embrace was enveloping, as if holding her entirely. One hand protected the back of her head, while the other supported her waist.

The whip struck the back of the person in front of her with a heavy thud, and his body trembled slightly.

Qiao Wan blinked. Since her mother’s death, no one had held her like this.

Such a completely protective embrace, holding her.

Qiao Wan felt something pounding wildly in her chest, the blood in her veins rushing joyously. Unlike the stunning impression of their first meeting, this time, even her breath became cautious.

It took her a moment to react before she hurriedly reached out to support Mu Chi. "Are you alright?"

She immediately moved to check the whip wound on his back.

Mu Chi shook his head with a faint smile and said softly, "Princess, have you forgotten? I do not feel pain."

He withdrew his hand from her waist inconspicuously and stood properly again.

"Even if it doesn’t hurt, it’s still an injury." Qiao Wan walked behind Mu Chi and saw the long whip had torn through his robe, leaving a bloody mark. Fortunately, it wasn’t serious.

She turned her furious gaze to Jing Lan, about to speak, when her hand was subtly tugged by Mu Chi. The touch was brief and quickly released.

Qiao Wan, thinking of his injury, glared at Jing Lan and, taking Mu Chi's hand, was about to leave. But then she remembered something and walked over to Li Zhen, who had been helped up by others. Coldly, she said, "Apologize."

A shadow of darkness flickered in Mu Chi's eyes.

This time, Li Zhen understood the situation clearly. He glanced around and reluctantly bowed his head to Mu Chi. "Sorry, Young Master Mu Chi."

Mu Chi gave a faint smile but said nothing.

Qiao Wan snorted coldly and, without another word, hauled Mu Chi away.

The Yu Xiu Pavilion fell into a tomb-like silence. Jing Lan stood there with an ugly expression, still clutching Qiao Wan's pliable whip.

He had clearly intended only to graze that malicious woman's cheek, leaving at most a red mark. Who'd have thought that man with no combat skills would foolhardily throw himself forward and just happen to collide with the whip?

The servants from the General's Residence had just arrived outside the door. Before even entering, they cried out anxiously, "Young Master, are you alright?"

Jing Lan shot them a dark look. "Can't you see I'm standing here perfectly fine?"

The servant awkwardly smiled, then lowered his head and noticed something. "Young Master, what is this?"

Jing Lan followed his gaze.

A vermilion sachet had somehow appeared on his waistband, likely slipped onto him when he wasn't paying attention. With a light tug, it came loose.

The sachet looked like a woman's possession, showing some age yet well-kept, embroidered with a plum blossom in silver thread and emitting a faint plum fragrance.

In the lower right corner were the awkwardly stitched characters "Wan Wan."

"Isn't this Princess Changle's sachet?" the servant exclaimed.

"Wan Wan" was precisely Princess Changle's given name.

Many people hiding behind the counters nearby turned to look.

Princess Changle and this Young General had just had a brutal scrap, and now she left behind a sachet...

Jing Lan quickly reacted, grabbing the sachet and cuffing the servant's head. "Don't be stupid!"

With a dark expression, he strode outside, the vermilion beads on his high ponytail swaying behind him.

His mind, however, raced. That malicious woman must have hung the sachet on him when she gave him that weird smile, distracting him. But what was her intention?

Was she playing coy?

The more Jing Lan thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. Otherwise, why would the Emperor have considered arranging a marriage between them after summoning her to the palace? That malicious woman must have said something to the Emperor.

He thought to himself, given his ridiculously handsome appearance, it was only natural for her to harbor feelings for him.

But he would never like such an insolent, tyrannical, and cruel woman.

Jing Lan sneered coldly. It seemed he needed to stay on his toes until the Emperor completely abandoned the idea of arranging their marriage.

Author's Note:

Mu Scum: I'm playing matchmaker for my wife.

Jing Dog: Hah, that malicious woman must have a crush on me!

Wan Wan: A pair of scoundrels.