After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

In my past life, I was at the Moon-Gazing Pavilion.

Ever since that night when he forced himself on Xiao Jingyuan through the window and then threatened him the next day, Xiao Jingyuan seems like a completely different person.

It's not that he's become gentler—that person simply doesn't have the word "gentle" in his bones.

He was still the same decisive emperor, capable of silencing all the officials in court during his sessions and dealing with memorials until late at night afterward.

But in front of Xie Qinglan, he became a strange person.

Overbearing, yet cautious.

Domineering, yet with a clumsy attempt to please.

He personally feeds the child three meals a day without fail.

Before the morning court session, he brought a bowl of steaming hot chicken porridge, sat on the edge of the bed, blew on it to cool it down, and then handed it to Xie Qinglan's lips.

Xie Qinglan turned her head away and ignored him, but he wasn't annoyed. He gently coaxed her while holding the spoon and patiently waiting. When Xie Qinglan finally opened her mouth with a cold face, he fed her the porridge, a very faint and barely noticeable smile appearing on his lips.

At lunchtime, he had someone move the folded paper from the Imperial Study to the side hall of Lan Yue Pavilion. He would review the folded paper for a while and then come over to check if Xie Qinglan was eating properly.

Sometimes Xie Qinglan would deliberately push his bowl away, saying he wasn't hungry. Then he would sit down, pick up the bowl, take a bite of food with his chopsticks, and hand it to her, his tone calm but brooking no refusal: "The imperial physician said your qi and blood are severely deficient, you must eat. If you don't eat it yourself, I have plenty of ways to make you eat it."

Xie Qinglan had experienced the "method" he mentioned before—last time when he refused to eat, Xiao Jingyuan pressed him against the headboard, fed him a mouthful of ginseng soup, and then refused to leave, lingering on his lips for a while until he couldn't breathe before letting go.

From then on, Xie Qinglan didn't dare to argue with him about meals anymore. But in other aspects, he was completely uncooperative.

That night, Xiao Jingyuan wanted to stay overnight, but Xie Qinglan looked at him coldly and said only two words: "Get out."

Xiao Jingyuan stood by the bed, his face expressionless, but there was a faint hint of grievance in his eyes.

He was silent for a moment, then said, "I won't touch you. Just sit here for a while."

"no."

"I'll sleep on the couch—"

"no."

Xiao Jingyuan didn't move. Xie Qinglan then stopped talking, simply leaning against the headboard, coldly watching him, her gaze as if she were looking at something unclean.

After a brief standoff, Xiao Jingyuan finally lowered his eyes, turned around, and walked towards the door.

He stopped halfway through the walk, took out a small hand warmer from his sleeve, and placed it at the foot of the bed.

"It's chilly at night, and you're still not fully recovered. Put this at your feet." He said and left, his back looking as upright and dignified as usual, but for some reason, his shoulders slumped slightly as he stepped out the door.

He came again the next evening. This time, Xie Qinglan didn't even bother to say a word, and kicked him as he approached the bed.

The kick landed squarely on Xiao Jingyuan's side, with considerable force, causing the dignified emperor to stagger back two steps and crash into the bedpost.

Xiao Jingyuan steadied himself, looked down at the spot where he had been kicked, and then looked up at Xie Qinglan, who lay on the bed with a cold expression.

He wasn't angry; he just sighed.

"Alright, I'm leaving." He walked to the door, paused, and said without turning his head, "The hand warmer is on the table, remember to use it."

Xie Qinglan glanced at the small bronze hand warmer on the table, then reached out and swept it into the wastebasket.

But on the third night, a new hand warmer appeared on the table. It was porcelain, celadon from the Nanyue official kiln, with a few slender bamboo stalks painted on it—the style of his hometown.

Xie Qinglan stared at the hand warmer for a long time before finally picking it up and stuffing it under the quilt.

Several days passed like this. Every day, Xiao Jingyuan would come and feed him three meals without fail, and then leave without lingering or saying much. Occasionally, if he tried to stay, Xie Qinglan would kick him off the bed.

Xiao Jingyuan wasn't angry. He just dusted off his clothes, stood up, glanced at him, and left.

Xie Qinglan's injuries gradually healed. The ointment from the Imperial Hospital was indeed effective; the redness and swelling on her back had subsided considerably, and she no longer felt much pain when walking.

After that night, Xiao Jingyuan never touched him again. Every night he would only come to deliver hand warmers and ointments, and occasionally sit by the bed to watch him for a while, only to be glared at and driven away by him.

On the morning of the fifth day, Xie Qinglan woke up and felt that his legs had regained strength. He stood up, supporting himself on the edge of the bed, and took a few steps. Although his back was still a little sore, it no longer affected his mobility.

The faint echoes of a morning bell could be heard outside the window—the signal that the morning court session was about to begin.

Xiao Jingyuan has already left. He went to court.

Without hesitation, Xie Qinglan took the Qingyun Sword from the sword rack and then rummaged through the cabinet to find a black cloak to wrap around herself, covering the marks on her neck that had not yet faded.

The moment he pushed open the door, the sunlight was so bright that he squinted slightly.

The guards outside the courtyard reacted to the sound, and more than thirty dark figures instantly surrounded them. The sound of swords being drawn was particularly jarring in the quiet afternoon.

"Prime Minister Xie, please return to your room." Ye Qi stood at the front, his tone respectful yet unquestionable, "His Majesty has ordered that you are not allowed to leave Lan Yue Pavilion even a step."

"Get out of my way." Xie Qinglan gripped her sword tightly, her eyes as cold as knives. "Anyone who dares to stop me will face my merciless blade."

Ye Qi didn't step aside; he merely raised his hand slightly, and the shadow guards behind him immediately formed an attack formation.

Xie Qinglan stopped wasting words and charged forward with her sword.

The Azure Cloud Sword seemed to come alive in his hands, its light flashing like a bolt of lightning, exuding a chilling aura. His swordsmanship was swift and ruthless, each move deadly, yet he left himself some room to maneuver—he didn't want to kill; he only wanted to leave.

Although the shadow guards were all top-notch experts, none of them dared to actually harm Xie Qinglan. His Majesty had said that if Prime Minister Xie lost even a single hair, they would all be executed.

The shadow guards, restrained and hesitant, were no match for Xie Qinglan. In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, all thirty-odd shadow guards lay on the ground, each one immobilized by pressure point manipulation.

Ye Qi clutched his shoulder, which had been struck by the sword's spine, and watched Xie Qinglan's departing figure, sweating profusely with anxiety.

Xie Qinglan carried his sword as he walked through the palaces and halls.

Two groups of imperial guards tried to stop him, but he swept them away with a single scabbard, and before they could even draw their swords, a whole bunch of them had already fallen.

He did not kill anyone—these guards were merely following orders, and he was unwilling to indiscriminately kill innocent people.

His movements were so fast that the imperial guards were already lying on the ground before they could even see what he was doing.

He went straight to Chang Le Palace.

Pei Yuning was sitting in the courtyard admiring the flowers when she saw Xie Qinglan rush in, sword in hand, covered in sweat and with his clothes disheveled. Startled, she turned pale and quickly stood up, exclaiming, "Brother Qinglan? What brings you here?"

"Ning'er, come with me." Xie Qinglan grabbed her wrist and said urgently, "Xiao Jingyuan is no good. It's too dangerous here. I'll take you back to Nanyue."

"Back to Nanyue?" Pei Yuning was stunned, a hint of panic flashing in her eyes, which was then replaced by grievance. "But... I'm already married to His Majesty. I'm Consort Ning of Beishuo."

"Xiao Jingyuan is not a good match. The marriage alliance must be canceled. We should set off to return home immediately."

"Why?" Pei Yuning looked at him, puzzled.

"There's no time to explain in detail." Xie Qinglan pulled her outside. "Xiao Jingyuan... is definitely not a good match."

He grabbed Pei Yuning's wrist and strode out, his tone resolute and brooking no argument. But Pei Yuning didn't move—she stood rooted to the spot, her feet seemingly planted in the ground.

Xie Qinglan turned to look at her.

"Brother Qinglan." Pei Yuning pulled her hand away from his, her voice soft but firm, "I'm not leaving."

Xie Qinglan was stunned.

"What did you say?"

"I said, I'm not leaving." Pei Yuning looked up at him, her gaze unwavering. "Brother Qinglan, you said His Majesty isn't a good match, but I think—he is."

Xie Qinglan stood there pondering for a long time.

Pei Yuning didn't want to leave, but he had no choice but to go if he didn't take her with him. Xiao Jingyuan was capable of anything when he went mad. He had threatened him with Pei Yuning's life and the fate of the Southern Yue Kingdom; he couldn't leave Pei Yuning in the hands of a madman.

"I'm sorry, Ning'er," he said softly, then grabbed Pei Yuning's wrist again, his grip even tighter than before. "I have to take you away today no matter what. When we get back to Nanyue, I'll accept whatever blame you may have for me."

Without waiting for Pei Yuning's reply, he grabbed her and pulled her outside.

The palace servants of Chang Le Palace tried to stop her, but Xie Qinglan swept them away with a sword sheath.

"Brother Qinglan! Let go!" Pei Yuning stumbled as he pulled her, her voice trembling with tears. "I won't go—let me go—please—"

Xie Qinglan ignored him. He pulled Pei Yuning along as they left the palace gates. The dozens of imperial guards guarding the gates were easily taken down by him.

The two ran all the way to the royal post station. The members of the wedding delegation were stunned to see Xie Qinglan returning with Pei Yuning.

"Pack your things and set off for Nanyue immediately," Xie Qinglan said in a deep voice.

The members of the delegation looked at each other, not daring to move. They were envoys from Nanyue, and if they took the princess back to their country without permission, they would be breaking the marriage alliance between the two countries, with unimaginable consequences.

"What? You're not even listening to me anymore?" Xie Qinglan's eyes turned cold, and she exuded a terrifying aura.

The members of the delegation were intimidated by his imposing presence and hurriedly began to pack their belongings in a flurry of activity.

In no time, the Nanyue wedding delegation was all lined up and ready to depart. Xie Qinglan helped Pei Yuning onto the carriage, then mounted his own horse, his movements so swift and agile that he didn't seem like someone who had been so exhausted a few days ago that he couldn't get out of bed.

Pei Yuning sat in the carriage, lifted the curtain and looked back at the direction of the capital. Her eyes were red and her lips were pressed into a line.

"Let's go." Xie Qinglan rode at the head of the caravan, his voice cold and steady.

But as soon as he stepped out of the alley where the post station was located, he saw that figure in black.