Lang Huan walked up to the Eldest Princess. "Your Highness, may we talk?" she asked softly.
Without waiting for a reply, she leaned down and gently lifted Feng Yao into her arms.
"Put me down," Feng Yao snapped, slapping her shoulder. "I don't need you to carry me."
Lang Huan merely glanced at her. "You've been walking back and forth between the shack and the bamboo house. Aren't you tired?"
She didn't give Feng Yao a chance to argue. Instead, she carried her through the quiet forest path until they reached a large, sun-warmed rock surrounded by blooming wildflowers. There, she carefully set Feng Yao down.
The air was still, the scent of flowers drifting faintly in the breeze. Lang Huan drew in a deep breath, trying to gather her courage. She hoped the peaceful scenery and quiet moment would help soothe Feng Yao's temper.
She was scared—after telling her the truth, Feng Yao might want to chop her into pieces.
And then, she dropped to her knees before the Eldest Princess.
"I want to tell your Highness everything that happened after I fell off the cliff. "
Feng Yao stiffened, her fists curling in her lap as she braced herself. Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
And so, Lang Huan began.
She told Feng Yao everything—from beginning to end. Every detail about what happened with Feng Xiyan. About her manipulation.
When she finally finished, silence hung between them like fog.
Lang Huan looked up. Her heart pounded. Feng Yao'eyes burned with anger. She shifted, one hand pressing against the edge of the rock as she moved to stand, to walk away.
She was to leave this conversation behind.
But before she could stand, Lang Huan moved quickly. She reached forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Feng Yao's waist, holding her in place, keeping her seated on the stone.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Feng Yao shouted, struggling in her arms. "Or I'll have Qiu Yue beat you!"
"I won't," Lang Huan whispered. "Not until you hear me. Not until you understand."
Feng Yao froze. And when Lang Huan looked up, her heart ached.
Her eyes—those proud, fierce eyes—were red.
Lang Huan let out a soft breath and held her tighter. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
And then—tik… tik…
The tears fell.
Feng Yao couldn't hold them back any longer. She didn't make a sound. She just sat there, but the tears kept falling, tracing down her cheeks like rain over stone.
Since the day Lang Huan fell from the cliff, there were so many moments when she wanted to cry, to scream—but she swallowed it all. Too many eyes were watching. She refused to show weakness. She had to be strong.
But now, all that pain came crashing down. And she couldn't hold it anymore.
The day Lang Huan disappeared, she had lived with worry—tormenting herself with thoughts of what might have happened. And yet, when they finally met again, the first thing she saw was Feng Xiyan—trying to steal the woman she loved using such dirty tricks.
What hurt even more was hearing how Lang Huan had tolerated that woman's manipulation again and again.
Feng Yao couldn't accept it.
Her heart broke all over again, and her tears poured freely.
Lang Huan held her tighter, letting the silence speak for them both.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered. "I don't have any feelings for Feng Xiyan. Never."
She slowly pulled back—just enough so that Feng Yao could see her face clearly, hear the sincerity in her voice, and look into her eyes without doubt.
"I only pitied her," she continued softly, "and felt grateful… because when I fell off that cliff, she reached out to help me. If it hadn't been for me, she wouldn't have fallen too. And when I thought she'd been… violated by that hunter, I felt guilty for leaving her behind."
"But even if it hadn't been Feng Xiyan—if it were any other woman, a complete stranger—I would've felt the same. The guilt, the empathy. How could I not? How could I just stand by and let a woman be humiliated like that without doing something?"
Some of the anger in Feng Yao's chest began to ease as she listened to Lang Huan's explanation.
Then she muttered under her breath, "Lang Huan… why is it that you're smart on normal days, but so unbelievably stupid when it actually matters?"
Lang Huan didn't argue. She lowered her gaze, a bitter smile curling faintly at her lips.
"I know," she said quietly. "I let her fool me… over and over. I was too soft. Too easy to manipulate."
Feng Yao's expression turned colder. "Don't you see how brave she was when fighting? Do you really think she trained in martial arts for ten years just for fun? She knew what she was doing. And do you really think an ordinary hunter could've laid a hand on her?"
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. "What if I hadn't arrived in time that day? Under the effect of that aphrodisiac… wouldn't Feng Xiyan have already taken advantage of you?"
Lang Huan let out a slow breath, choosing her words carefully.
"Hm… I don't think she even knows how to do… that kind of thing," she muttered. "Her kissing was so clumsy… awkward and honestly, just bad."
She froze the moment the words escaped her lips, her cheeks instantly flushing. Then, in a quieter, far more embarrassed voice, she added:
"Honestly, if I hadn't restrained the aphrodisiac using my inner strength… it might've ended up the other way around. I could've been the one who took advantage of her."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Her body tensed, panic tightening her chest.
Wait… did I just say that out loud?
She stiffened slightly, realizing too late how that must have sounded.
Feng Yao slowly tilted Lang Huan's chin, one brow arched in a dangerous curve.
"Hm? And how exactly do you know she's bad at kissing?"
Lang Huan blinked. Her mind went blank for half a second.
"I—uh—" She forced a nervous smile. "O-oh… I mean—I just guessed! Just a wild guess, that's all! Based on her personality, you know? She doesn't seem like someone who'd be… um… experienced."
She let out an awkward laugh, silently praying that Feng Yao wouldn't press further.
Lang Huan reached up to wipe away the tears still clinging to Feng Yao's lashes.
"Don't cry anymore," she whispered. "This is my fault. I know you were worried about me—traveling day and night just to find me. And when you finally did… what you saw must have been such a disappointment."
"It's good you know that…" she muttered, voice cracking—then she started to sob again, the sound raw and broken.
Lang Huan's chest clenched. She pulled Feng Yao into her arms, holding her tight, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles along her back.
"I'm sorry, I always make you cry… I never meant to."
Feng Yao let the pain pour out, her shoulders trembling as the weight of longing and anger finally broke through her pride.
Lang Huan held her as if to shield her from the world, then gently adjusted her hold.
She lifted Feng Yao and pulled her fully into her lap, seating her sideways across her thighs.
Feng Yao didn't resist. She tucked her face against Lang Huan's shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric of her robe.
Lang Huan leaned in and gently kissed the tears from Feng Yao's cheeks, she whispered sweet words in a soothing voice, even tried a few silly jokes to lighten the mood. Slowly, a small smile curled on Feng Yao's lips.
Seeing it, Lang Huan felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She smiled back.
"Your Highness," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I love you. I missed you so much."
She leaned down and kissed her hard, full of everything she couldn't say in words.
Feng Yao responded her kiss, and for a moment, all their pain melted into that single, shared breath.
But just as they pulled away—
PAH!
The slap landed like thunder.
Lang Huan froze, stunned. Her head tilted slightly from the force, the sound of the impact still ringing in the air. Slowly, she lifted a trembling hand to her stinging cheek, her eyes wide and glassy with disbelief.
From a short distance away, A Li had just arrived, about to call them for lunch—only to hear the sharp smack cut through the peaceful air. She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide like saucers. Then, without a word, she silently turned around and vanished into the trees like a ghost, pretending she'd never been there at all.
Lang Huan stayed there motionless, her soul halfway to the heavens. Her eyes were glassy, lips trembling. The Eldest Princess looked at her, then slowly reached out and cupped her cheek, concern flickering through her gaze.
"Is it… that painful?" she asked softly.
Lang Huan turned her tear-filled eyes toward her and nodded miserably.
"It hurts…" she sniffled. "I think I'm disfigured. What if my cheek swells forever? What if my brain is shattered into pieces? and I become even more stupid?"
Then—Feng Yao burst out laughing. Uncontrollably. The tension snapped like a thread, and her earlier tears dissolved in an instant. She laughed so hard she had to lean against Lang Huan for support, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
But seeing her laugh only made Lang Huan cry harder.
"Your Highness is so cruel…" she sobbed.
The contrast between Lang Huan's pitiful expression and her overly dramatic whining only made Feng Yao laugh harder. She wrapped an arm around her, half chuckling, half sighing.
She liked it when Lang Huan acted like a child. Feng Yao didn't mind at all—she was always willing to pamper and spoil her.
Lang Huan let herself be pulled in, wrapping her arms tightly around Feng Yao and burying her face in her shoulder, still crying.
"You broke me…"
Feng Yao rubbed her back gently, her laughter finally beginning to quiet.
"You deserved it!"
Who told you to attract butterflies and rack up love debts?