Volume One, Chapter 9: Forcing Song Qinghuan to Kneel Before Him and Admit Her Mistake
Beneath the corridor, Song Mingzhu’s eyes brimmed with tears as she stood alongside Lu Yumo. The two appeared exceedingly close; if not for the fact that Lu Yumo was still Song Qinghuan’s fiancé, the scene before them would surely inspire envy.
Song Mingzhu lifted her gaze to Lu Yumo, her delicate fingers clutching the hem of his garment, hesitating as if struggling to find the words: “Brother Yumo, Mingzhu can’t bear to part from you, but I must go. In the years to come, please take care of yourself.”
Her eyes were filled with profound affection.
Lu Yumo’s heart twisted painfully. He reached out and pulled Song Mingzhu into his embrace. “Mingzhu, what are you saying? From the moment I saw you, I decided I would marry no one but you. How could I possibly let you leave now?”
“But—”
“Qinghuan sister has already returned...” Song Mingzhu lowered her head, biting her lip tightly, looking pitiful as though burdened by an immense grievance.
At the mention of Song Qinghuan’s name, a murderous intent flashed in Lu Yumo’s eyes.
That wretched woman, Song Qinghuan, has no right to stand between him and Mingzhu.
He lifted his sleeve and slowly wiped away the tears from the corner of Song Mingzhu’s eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Even Song Qinghuan cannot keep us apart!”
Song Mingzhu’s eyes fluttered open, her excitement unmistakable.
From beneath the corridor, witnessing such a tender and intimate moment, Song Qinghuan couldn’t help but laugh aloud. “Ha, what a perfect pair they make.”
She clicked her tongue in mock admiration.
Startled by the voice, Lu Yumo turned around at once.
In the corridor, a young woman stood sideways, the breeze brushing strands of hair from her temple, lending her an air of delicate vitality. Years of hardship had withered her frame, yet a subtle, refined, and cool beauty still shone through. Her stubborn posture and bright eyes momentarily chilled Lu Yumo.
He spoke in disbelief, “You are...?”
Noticing Lu Yumo’s expression being drawn to Song Qinghuan, dissatisfaction clouded Song Mingzhu’s eyes. She ground her teeth and said to Song Qinghuan, “Qinghuan sister...”
Only then did Lu Yumo regain his composure.
---
Realizing the figure before him was none other than Song Qinghuan, Lu Yumo frowned and muttered, “Eavesdropping on others’ conversations—how shameless.”
Song Qinghuan raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Eavesdropping on your fiancé and your younger sister’s private talk—fine, that’s my fault,” she said with a sly smile, deliberately emphasizing their identities.
Hearing this, Lu Yumo’s face darkened instantly. He glared at Song Qinghuan. “Who said I’m your fiancé?”
“In the entire Dayong Empire, who doesn’t know you lost your virtue among the barbarians? You’re a discarded woman no one wants. And yet you dare to bring up our betrothal? Where do you get the nerve?”
“So you’re denying it now?”
Song Qinghuan tilted her head, showing no surprise or emotion at Lu Yumo’s attitude.
After all, she had long anticipated the current state of affairs.
Lu Yumo snorted contemptuously. “You’re nothing but a used woman. Why should I acknowledge you? The very thought of our engagement sickens me! A woman like you doesn’t deserve to marry into the Lu family. In fact, just appearing near the Lu household tarnishes it!”
Song Qinghuan didn’t get angry; instead, she laughed heartily, as if hearing the greatest joke.
“Tarnish the Lu family?”
Lu Yumo despised her so deeply!
“What a pity. No matter how much you despise it, I’m still going to marry into your family,” Song Qinghuan winked, deliberately provoking him.
Lu Yumo’s face darkened further.
His furious gaze lingered on her face. The girl was thin, but her eyes were still as beautiful as they had been years ago. Looking at her, he unexpectedly blurted out, “Song Qinghuan, when you say these things, do you still have feelings for me? Are you trying to hold me back?”
---
Lu Yumo grew more excited as he spoke.
Though Song Qinghuan had lost her honor, she was still the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Jing’an. Even after all those years among the barbarians, she remained attached to him. It seemed, then, that he still held some charm.
With this thought, Lu Yumo felt almost giddy.
Song Qinghuan laughed again. “Hold you back?”
How utterly ridiculous!
The two had reached an impasse, and unwilling to waste words, Song Qinghuan turned to continue her business. But Lu Yumo’s mind was whirling with conviction. Seeing her attempt to leave, he stepped forward and grabbed her arm.
“Song Qinghuan, I’m giving you one chance!”
“If you kneel before me and beg me not to break off our engagement, I’ll be magnanimous enough to marry Mingzhu as my lawful wife, and take you into the Lu household as my concubine!”
Lu Yumo’s face lit up with excitement as he imagined over and over the scene of Song Qinghuan, desperate to stay by his side, groveling like a dog, repeatedly kowtowing and pleading for mercy.
Recalling her former pride.
The noble daughter of the Marquis of Jing’an groveling at his feet, begging for his favor—how thrilling!
His eyes gleamed, oblivious to the shift in Song Mingzhu’s expression when he agreed to marry Song Qinghuan as a concubine. Song Qinghuan glanced mockingly at her, the look as sharp as a blade.
So this is the man you longed for so desperately?
He’s nothing special!
Song Qinghuan stepped forward half a pace, tilting her head with a smile. “Lu Yumo, you don’t really think I’d agree to that, do you?”