Chapter 112: Pei Wenxuan, Actually, I Like You More Than You Think

At this point, Li Rong could no longer keep up the act.

She lay on the ground for a moment, and seeing that Pei Wenxuan had no intention of helping her up, she got up on her own, pretending nothing had happened, and gracefully returned to her seat.

She felt a bit guilty.

Even though they had just argued, being caught red-handed while trying to offer herself was still quite embarrassing.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. She remembered in her previous life, there was a handsome top scholar who, upon hearing of her fondness for attractive men, tried to take advantage of a political discussion to secretly slip her a note. Whether he was drawn to her looks or her power, she wasn’t sure.

She never brought such romantic matters into court affairs and had intended to deal with it quietly. But somehow, Pei Wenxuan found out. He showed no emotion on the surface, but the next day, that scholar was impeached. He was demoted from an academic post to a local governor, and within ten years, he was packed off from Huajing. Rumor had it that just five miles outside the city, he was robbed by bandits, stripped of all his money, stuffed into a burlap sack, and thoroughly beaten.

She couldn’t believe anyone but Pei Wenxuan could have orchestrated such a petty and childish scheme.

In their previous life, when they were in a cold war, Pei Wenxuan could only resort to underhanded tactics. Now that they were in a relationship, he probably wouldn’t be satisfied with just working behind the scenes.

So Li Rong stayed alert, waiting to see what Pei Wenxuan would do.

But Pei Wenxuan said nothing. He quietly drank his wine. After a long time, he seemed to calm down and slowly said, “I came to see Your Highness to apologize.”

“No need to apologize,” Li Rong quickly poured him tea. “It’s all trivial. Calm down first. Let it out, and then we can talk.”

Pei Wenxuan was caught off guard by her words. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Your Highness, there’s no need for this.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Li Rong interrupted, filling the cup and placing it in front of him with both hands. “If there were truly no need, you wouldn’t have tied me up and brought me here.”

“Your Highness,” Pei Wenxuan chuckled helplessly, “this little boat was prepared for us to enjoy the lanterns together.”

“Do we look like we’re enjoying lanterns?”

Li Rong retorted immediately, not waiting for his answer. She gave it herself: “This is kidnapping.”

“You argue with me, insult me, act recklessly without regard for your future—I won’t hold any of that against you,” Li Rong gestured seriously. “I just ask one thing: row the boat back now. Whatever it is, we’ll talk on shore.”

“Why does Your Highness insist?” Pei Wenxuan looked up at her. “The scenery here is beautiful, and it’s quiet—perfect for a conversation.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Li Rong replied quickly. “Perfect for threatening and intimidating me. I can’t row, the water’s freezing—am I supposed to swim back?”

“Your Highness,” Pei Wenxuan looked at her, “I saw the letter you wrote at the Northern Yan Tower.”

Li Rong froze. Silence fell between them. Pei Wenxuan poured himself another drink and slowly said, “You said we’ve both treated each other well—so why must we always end up on a dead-end path?”

“If two people don’t want to love each other, then fine. But Your Highness clearly has feelings for me—so why must things turn out this way?”

Li Rong said nothing, her eyes lowered.

“Your Highness,” Pei Wenxuan held his cup, looking weary, “what does marriage mean to you?”

He drank and asked softly, “If you need it, you can marry someone you’ve never met. If you don’t, you can divorce and walk away. What am I to you, really?”

Li Rong didn’t respond. Pei Wenxuan turned to her, his eyes pleading: “Your Highness, please tell me the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Li Rong smiled. Pei Wenxuan looked at her, his unwavering gaze showing he was serious.

Li Rong picked up the wine cup, took a sip, then nodded firmly. “Fine. Tonight, we speak only the truth. The reason I can agree to divorce so easily is because, in this situation, it’s the best solution. My father is suspicious by nature—no matter how you explain it, once the matter of the talisman made him question your loyalty, he will test you. Swearing allegiance to him is inevitable. You ask why I demanded the divorce, but I should be asking you—why not divorce?”

Pei Wenxuan opened his mouth to reply, but Li Rong cut him off, her voice steely.

“Because you don’t trust me.”

She poured herself another cup of wine, her movements deliberate, her tone deceptively light. “Pei Wenxuan, you may not say it aloud, but in your heart, you’ve never truly believed in me.”

“If you trusted me, why fear divorce? Even if we separate, can’t we still stand together?”

Pei Wenxuan listened silently, his gaze drifting to the flowing water outside the window.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should continue.

To speak now would be to tear open old wounds—wounds that had festered silently between them for years. He had thought that if left unmentioned, they would fade. But now he understood: every scar, no matter how buried, shapes the choices that follow.

He had truly believed he’d moved on.

Now he knew he hadn’t.

“No retort?” Li Rong laughed coldly. “Did I strike a nerve? You come here with righteous indignation, accusing me of being heartless—but tell me, who is the one who truly cannot trust?”

Pei Wenxuan gripped his cup, drinking in silence.

His lack of denial confirmed her suspicions. A sharp, inexplicable pain twisted in her chest. She slammed her fan onto the table. “Speak!”

“You want the truth?”

Pei Wenxuan’s voice was low, his last shred of restraint barely holding.

Li Rong gestured sharply. “By all means.”

“You want me to trust you.” He downed the rest of his wine, as if fortifying himself. “But why should I?”

He turned to face her fully, his eyes burning. “Because you married me to escape trouble? Because you claimed to love me but withdrew at the first sign of difficulty? Because you can swear affection one moment and seek another man the next? Because you drown your sorrows in pleasure whenever your heart is bruised?”

“You ask for my trust—but what have you ever done to earn it?”

He set down his cup, strode to her, and dropped to one knee before her, gripping the edge of the table as he leaned in. “You’re right. I don’t trust you. Today, you’ll divorce me for power. Tomorrow, you’ll abandon me for it. Right now, I’m still your husband—and as long as I refuse to let go, no one can tear us apart. But if we divorce?”

A bitter smile twisted his lips. “Su Rongqing is still watching us. I don’t trust you—and I certainly don’t trust him.”

Li Rong listened, her smile never wavering. “Understood.”

She tilted her head up, phoenix eyes glinting with challenge. “Then what are you waiting for, Lord Pei? Hurry and divorce me. Find yourself a sweet, obedient girl and live happily ever after—wouldn’t that be better?”

Pei Wenxuan said nothing. He studied her—the pride in her eyes masking something wounded, the sharp edges of her words hiding pain. It infuriated him.

“What are you looking at?”

Li Rong smirked. “Reluctant? Too bad. I certainly have no such—”

Before she could finish, Pei Wenxuan seized the back of her head and crushed his mouth to hers, shoving her backward until her shoulders hit the cabin wall.

Li Rong, already furious, lashed out with a kick. Pei Wenxuan pinned her legs with his own, caught both her wrists in one hand, and wrenched them above her head. His other hand gripped her jaw, forcing her mouth open as he kissed her deeply, ruthlessly.

She refused to yield, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and snarling against his mouth—

“Bastard. Worthless scum—”

Pei Wenxuan ignored her completely. The metallic tang of blood mingled between their lips and tongues, and the more she resisted, the more every sensation intensified—anger, pain, desire, all spiraling out of control.

“Curse me.”

His voice was hoarse, the usual clarity roughened with something darker. “Go on. I’m listening.”

Li Rong fought desperately to keep her mind clear, hurling every insult she could think of at him. Whenever she found the slightest opening, she clawed, bit, struck, kicked—

The cabin became a battleground.

But Pei Wenxuan, even in his fury, was careful not to truly hurt her.

Their anger and frustration tangled with something far more primal, until finally, Pei Wenxuan managed to bind her wrists firmly with his belt and pin her beneath him.

Breathing heavily, Li Rong glared up at the man who had long since shed any pretense of decorum.

His jade crown had been torn off, his hair disheveled, robes in disarray. His neck and chest were streaked with bloody scratches, his shoulders marked by her teeth, his lips bitten raw. Only his face remained unscathed.

She wasn’t much better off, though she still looked far more composed than he did.

Yet even like this, Pei Wenxuan was unfairly striking—his half-open robes revealing a reckless, untamed allure rarely seen by the outside world.

Exhausted, Pei Wenxuan kept her pinned, wary of her temper. He shook his head, breath uneven.

“Li Rong, what kind of princess fights like a street brawler?”

“And what kind of nobleman behaves like a beast?” she sneered. “Calling you ‘shameless’ would be too generous.”

Pei Wenxuan laughed.

The way she glared at him now—vibrant, alive—was nothing like the cold, cutting woman who had spoken those hurtful words earlier.

He studied her for a long moment before bending down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t be like this,” he murmured. “Your words wound me.”

“Why should I care if you’re wounded?”

Her voice wavered, an unexpected ache tightening her throat. “Get off.”

Pei Wenxuan chuckled, gathering her into his arms instead. “Rongrong, you’re a good woman. Don’t armor yourself in thorns.”

She turned her face away, refusing to answer.

Shifting to his side, Pei Wenxuan eased his weight off her. They lay facing each other now, his hand gently stroking her back.

“I was wrong,” he admitted softly. “I shouldn’t have provoked you. It’s not that I don’t trust you—I’m just afraid.”

“I don’t know how much I mean to you. I don’t know how much Su Rongqing still means to you. When I think of your past, of the years I lost—I say things I regret.” His fingers brushed her hair. “Don’t be angry, alright?”

Li Rong listened in silence.

Exhaustion had dulled her fury, leaving only a strange calm. She rested her head against his arm, curled in the shelter of his embrace—like a boat finally returning to harbor.

Deep down, she knew she had been the unreasonable one. Pei Wenxuan’s apology wasn’t because he was wrong, but because he had always been the one to yield, to endure her storms.

That unwavering patience gave her a security she’d never known before.

She lifted her gaze to his.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, amused.

“Pei Wenxuan,” she whispered. “You were right. I’ve given you no reason to trust me. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

He stayed quiet as she pressed her forehead to his chest, weary.

“I never considered your fears. I didn’t think enough about you.” Her voice softened. “But you are important to me. I just—I wanted to give you the best.”

“From the moment I was born, I was taught that power is everything. The foundation of survival. The only true security.” She swallowed. “I was afraid too. Afraid you’d find someone else. But more than that… I was afraid of costing you your future.”

“I was afraid you’d sacrifice too much for me,” Li Rong murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “That one day, when you’re older or in desperate straits, when your feelings for me might fade… you’d look back on everything you gave up and resent me for it.”

Pei Wenxuan listened to this rare moment of vulnerability, his fingers gently combing through her hair.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Li Rong lifted her head when he remained silent, searching his face.

Pei Wenxuan smiled faintly. “I’m angry.”

“Angry?” She blinked. “I’m being sincere here, and you’re angry?”

“Yes. Because you underestimate me. As if something as trivial as this could ruin my future, or make me regretful in my old age.”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that her head still rested on his arm. Gazing up at the star-strewn sky outside the window, he chuckled. “You think far too little of me.”

“Who knows?” Li Rong laughed softly. “Different circumstances shape different men. If you never became Prime Minister, what kind of Pei Wenxuan would you have been?”

“I won’t argue hypotheticals with you.” His eyes shifted from the stars back to her. “Just wait and see. You’ve known me for a lifetime—don’t you know me by now?”

“Oh, I know you very well.” She raised her bound wrists and wiggled them pointedly. “Exceptionally skilled with your hands.”

Pei Wenxuan sat up, pulling her with him. She offered her tied hands, and he began unwinding the belt with deliberate care.

“I lost my temper today too,” he admitted quietly. “Next time, think before you speak. You do care for me—why must you phrase it so cruelly?”

“But I won’t laugh at you.” He glanced up, his lips curving. “The truth is, I refused the divorce not just because I distrust you—but because I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“Hurting me?”

Freed at last, Li Rong flexed her wrists while Pei Wenxuan leaned back, one arm braced behind him, the other resting on a bent knee.

Outside, lanterns had begun drifting across the water—floating lights that mirrored the stars above, encircling their little boat in a halo of gold.

Pei Wenxuan’s voice turned distant. “Everyone around you has taught you to trade love for power. You say you’ve accepted it—but if I ever did the same, you’d never believe that some affections are pure, untainted by calculation.”

“I sought power only to stand by your side. So if you ask me to leave you—even temporarily, even in name only—for the sake of ambition…” He turned to her, his smile softening. “I refuse.”

“Love shouldn’t be bargained with. And the woman I love must never grow accustomed to such sacrifices.”

Li Rong frowned. “But it would’ve been a minor concession.”

“If I agreed without hesitation,” he countered, “would it truly have cost you nothing?”

“Rongrong.” He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “To me, ensuring you never doubt your worth is everything.”

Li Rong fell silent, studying him.

Moonlight spilled over his disheveled hair, his half-open robes, the quiet strength in his features—time and youth intertwined, as breathtaking as the lake and stars around them.

Then, in the distance, a bell tolled.

A moment later, thousands of sky lanterns rose from the mountains beyond, painting the night in flickering gold. Pei Wenxuan tilted his head back, his eyes alight.

“Rongrong,” he said softly, turning to her—

And found her already leaning in.

Her lips brushed his, feather-light, before she whispered against them:

“Pei Wenxuan… I’ve loved you more than you’ll ever know.”

Li Rong’s arms encircled his neck as she shifted to straddle his lap, pressing close.

Pei Wenxuan leaned back against the cabin wall, momentarily stunned before realization dawned.

His heart swelled—drenched in honey, wrapped in sweetness. This small gesture made everything worth it.

A smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, then buried his fingers in the silk at the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss with deliberate hunger.

No one knew Li Rong’s body better than Pei Wenxuan.

He loved her—every inch of her—and had devoted himself to mastering the art of her pleasure.

What began as a simple kiss soon spiraled into something far more consuming. By the time he finally stilled, Li Rong lay boneless against him, her limbs tangled with his, her breath uneven.

Pei Wenxuan, in contrast, looked every bit the composed gentleman—one arm resting on the windowsill, fingers absently tracing his temple, the other wrapped securely around her waist as he stroked slow, soothing lines down her spine.

Even spent, he remained infuriatingly poised.

“Shall we return?” he murmured against her ear, though his wandering hands betrayed the casual question.

Li Rong didn’t answer, clinging to him as his touch reignited embers she’d thought extinguished.

Finally, her voice rough, she whispered:

“Pei-gege…”

The childhood endearment startled a laugh from him. He leaned forward, cradling her close for one last confirmation:

“Here, then?”

A soft hum against his collarbone was all the reply he needed.

“Good girl,” he breathed, nipping her earlobe before lowering her gently onto the padded cushions.

A silk belt whispered over her eyes, plunging her into darkness where only sensation remained—the lap of water against the hull, the distant chirp of cicadas, the boat’s rhythmic sway beneath them.

Above, unseen, the heavens blazed with stars; below, lantern lights shimmered on the lake’s surface as their little vessel drifted, veiled by mist and night.

When he finally joined with her, their fingers laced together like twin roots seeking the same earth. He chanted her name like a prayer, stripped of all restraint—until at last, a broken sound escaped him, raw and reverent.

And in that moment, Li Rong understood:

Desire without love was merely hunger.

But this—this was communion.

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