Chapter 853: Dancing on a Tightrope

As Gebi left, only Tudan Jing remained as the sole woman present. She glanced at her husband, then stole a look at Song Qingshu, feeling extremely awkward. The thought that both men had slept with her made her so uneasy that she could hardly sit still. She quickly made an excuse, saying she needed to return home to pray, and stood to leave.

Wanyan Liang, who had wronged her the previous night and was feeling guilty, decided to accompany his wife back.

“Prince and Princess Consort, won’t you stay for breakfast?” Song Qingshu said with a faint, teasing smile.

Wanyan Liang actually wanted to see Gebi again, but seeing his wife’s determination, he politely declined. “No need to trouble yourselves. We’ve already overstayed our welcome. There are matters at home to attend to, so we’ll take our leave now. Let’s meet again another time.”

After his conversation with Song Qingshu, he felt he had gained much insight and was eager to return to consult his trusted advisor, Xiao Yu. Thus, he took the opportunity to bid farewell.

He stood and said to Tudan Jing, “Ah Jing, wait here for a moment. I’ll go instruct the servants to prepare the carriage.”

The thought of being left alone with Song Qingshu made Tudan Jing panic. She wanted to call her husband back, but Wanyan Liang had already walked away too quickly, disappearing beyond the courtyard before she could speak.

Noticing her expression, Song Qingshu chuckled. “Does the Princess Consort dislike being alone with me so much?”

Tudan Jing’s face flushed. “You know why.”

“As the saying goes, ‘One night of love binds hearts for a hundred days.’ Isn’t the Princess Consort being a bit too cold?” Song Qingshu stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

As he stood beside her, Tudan Jing felt the sunlight dim, as though his presence blocked most of it. His oppressive aura from the previous night resurfaced in her mind, making her chest rise and fall rapidly. “I’ve already said—what happened last night stays last night. Don’t push your luck.”

She stood abruptly, unwilling to remain under his imposing shadow.

“The Princess Consort’s words wound my pride,” Song Qingshu said with a deliberately crestfallen expression.

“What do you have to be ashamed of?” Tudan Jing couldn’t help asking, though she immediately regretted engaging with this scoundrel.

Song Qingshu stepped forward, closing the gap to less than a foot, and wrapped his arm around her slender waist, pulling her against him. “I had been quite pleased with last night’s… performance, thinking the Princess Consort might have found it memorable. Yet you show no trace of longing. That must mean I failed to satisfy you. How could I not feel ashamed?”

Tudan Jing was stunned by his audacity—daring to embrace her so boldly in broad daylight. Pressed tightly against him, separated only by two layers of clothing, she soon felt the heat and hardness of his body. Flustered and furious, she hissed, “Are you trying to get us killed? The Prince will return any moment!”

As if on cue, Wanyan Liang’s voice sounded from nearby: “Ah Jing, the carriage is ready. Let’s go.”

Hearing her husband approach, Tudan Jing struggled desperately, but Song Qingshu’s grip was unyielding.

“What do you want?!” she whispered frantically.

“Let me k!ss you, and I’ll let go.” With his heightened senses, Song Qingshu knew Wanyan Liang wouldn’t reach the courtyard gate for another ten breaths—plenty of time.

Tudan Jing nearly fainted from anger. At such a critical moment, he still sought to take advantage! If her husband caught them, they were doomed. But if she refused, he wouldn’t release her.

Watching her face pale and flush in turns, Song Qingshu whispered, “If the Princess Consort hesitates any longer, the Prince will arrive.”

“Just do it!” In desperation, she tilted her chin up, offering her lips.

Seeing her trembling lashes, Song Qingshu knew she was terrified. With a low laugh, he k!ssed her.

The thought of her husband’s imminent appearance sent a shiver through Tudan Jing’s soul. A jolt of electricity seemed to course through her, leaving her weak and breathless.

“Ah Jing, Brother Tang Kuo, what are you doing?” Wanyan Liang’s puzzled voice came from the courtyard entrance.

“It’s over… He saw us…” Tudan Jing’s legs gave way, and only Song Qingshu’s hold kept her upright.

Releasing her at last, Song Qingshu turned with a smile. “Nothing. The Princess Consort had something in her eye. I was helping her check.”

Tudan Jing was almost impressed by his audacity—lying so effortlessly without a trace of guilt.

To her surprise, Wanyan Liang showed no suspicion, only concern. “Ah Jing, are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.” She shot Song Qingshu a puzzled glance. What trick had he used? Had her husband truly not seen?

Song Qingshu winked subtly, making her quickly avert her gaze. “My Prince, I’m not feeling well. Let’s return.”

“Of course.” Oblivious, Wanyan Liang reached for her hand, but she dodged, too guilt-ridden to accept his touch.

“Let me escort you,” Song Qingshu offered.

“No need!” Wanyan Liang waved him off. “Stay and tend to your wife. She didn’t rest well last night.” He even gave Song Qingshu a knowing look.

Suppressing a sneer, Song Qingshu nodded. “Then I won’t see you off. Safe travels.”

Too shaken to even resent her husband, Tudan Jing followed him out. As they passed the courtyard gate, she glanced back—and finally understood.

From this angle, Song Qingshu’s broad frame and billowing cloak had obscured most of the pavilion. When he had held her, his body had completely shielded her from view. No wonder her husband had noticed nothing.

Relief washed over her, and the memory of that heart-stopping k!ss resurfaced. A faint smile touched her lips.

‘That scoundrel… bold yet meticulous.’

Her mind drifted to their first meeting—the electric touch of their hands—and the unforgettable passion of the previous night. A dazed thought crossed her mind:

‘Could he be… my destined true love?’