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

Xie Qinglan was awakened by a shrill voice.

"...Hereby conferring upon her the title of Consort Xie, bestowing upon her the name 'Consort Xie,' and granting her residence in the Lanyue Pavilion. So be it."

Xie Qinglan struggled to open his eyes and found himself back in Lanyue Pavilion. He had been given a clean undergarment made of Yun brocade from Nanyue.

A gold chain appeared on my ankle, binding my ankle bone, and a chill seeped into my bones.

His body felt like it had been taken apart and barely pieced back together; his wrists were covered in purplish-blue finger marks, and his side was bruised. Every movement caused a hidden, sharp pain that made him gasp, draining him of even the strength to clench his fingers.

Then he saw the eunuch and heard the words "Consort Xie".

He was the Prime Minister of Nanyue, a powerful and ruthless ruler who had held power for ten years. In the Nanyue court, his word was law, and he could quell 30,000 rebel troops in Guizhou with a single word.

Now that person has taken advantage of him, locked him up in the deep palace, and even wants to give him the title of a concubine.

Xie Qinglan grabbed a teacup from the small table beside the bed and smashed it to the ground. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed in the hall, shards of porcelain flying everywhere, and tea spilled all over the floor.

"You bastard!" His voice was so hoarse it was almost distorted, yet the murderous intent emanating from him made the eunuch take three steps back in fright. "Xiao Jingyuan! You bastard!"

The door was pushed open.

Xiao Jingyuan walked in. He had changed into a dark-colored casual robe, and his face was expressionless, except for a deep dark circle under his eyes.

He glanced at the broken porcelain on the floor, then at Xie Qinglan, who was sitting on the bed trembling with anger, and remained silent for a moment.

"What, are you not satisfied?" His tone sounded calm and authoritative, but if you listened carefully, you could hear a hint of grievance hidden within it. "I also feel that the position of Consort is beneath you. In a few days, I will abolish the alliance with Nanyue and directly make you Empress."

"Don't even think about it." Xie Qinglan's voice was so cold it sounded like it was being squeezed out from between her teeth. "Xiao Jingyuan—what do you take me for?"

Xiao Jingyuan's expression darkened. He walked to the bedside, looking down at Xie Qinglan, his pale eyes swirling with anger and resentment that had been suppressed all night.

"What do I take you for?" He bent down, one hand bracing against the bedpost, casting Xie Qinglan entirely in his shadow. "I consider you my life. But you don't care. You only care about that woman. You fought me to the death for her, and your eyes were filled with such heartache when you held her—when have you ever looked at me like that? Hmm?"

He straightened up, his back to Xie Qinglan, and his voice regained its indifferent imperial majesty.

"You are mine, and you will always be mine. If you run away again—I will break the legs you cherish most."

Xie Qinglan's pupils contracted slightly.

Then I heard a sentence—

"Pei Yuning's legs."

Xie Qinglan unconsciously bit her lower lip and said, "...You dare."

"You can give it a try." Xiao Jingyuan walked towards the door without looking back. "In the ten years since I ascended the throne, there's nothing I haven't dared to do."

"Get out." Xie Qinglan's cold voice came from behind. "I don't want to see you."

Xiao Jingyuan's back stiffened for a moment. He stood there for a while, then walked out without looking back.

The door closed behind him with a dull thud.

Xie Qinglan sat alone on the bed, looking down at the gold chain on her ankle and then at the shattered porcelain on the floor.

He slowly buried his face in his palms and remained motionless for a long time.

That night, Xie Qinglan slept very soundly. Her body had reached its limit; she couldn't even lift a finger.

He didn't touch the dinner brought by the palace servants. He just lay on his side on the bed, facing the wall, and drifted off to sleep without anyone knowing when.

He was sleeping so soundly that he didn't notice the window being pushed open a crack from the outside.

Xiao Jingyuan silently climbed in. He was wearing the same dark-colored casual clothes he wore during the day, with cinnabar ink stains on his cuffs, indicating he had come directly from the Imperial Study.

He stood by the bed, looking down at Xie Qinglan's sleeping face. He stood there for a long time, so long that the moonlight moved from one window pane to another.

Then he took out a small white porcelain medicine box from his sleeve, sat down by the bed, and lifted a corner of the brocade quilt. Xie Qinglan was lying on her side, the hem of her undergarment was already crumpled, revealing a section of bluish-purple mottled skin on her waist.

Xiao Jingyuan paused for a very brief moment.

He warmed the ointment on his fingertips before carefully examining the hidden wound—worse than before, still swollen, with dried bloodstains around the edges, and the heat made his fingertips tremble. Xiao Jingyuan's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his heart felt as if it were being slowly cut by a dull knife.

He touched the ointment with his fingers very gently, almost just touching the surface and slowly applying it. He even held his breath, afraid that using any more force would hurt him.

But Xie Qinglan still woke up.

In his half-awake state, he felt a cool sensation behind him, accompanied by a slight feeling of something foreign. It was uncomfortable, yet strangely, it relieved the burning, swollen pain there.

He moved groggily, and a soft moan escaped his throat.

Then he suddenly realized something was wrong.

He turned his head sharply and, by the moonlight, saw the face he least wanted to see at that moment.

Xiao Jingyuan sat behind him, one hand on the mattress, the fingertips of the other hand still not out.

Those pale eyes churned with too many emotions—heartache, guilt, desire, and a hint of guilt after being caught red-handed.

Xie Qinglan's mind went blank for a moment. Then a surge of heat spread from her ear to the side of her neck—it was extreme shame and anger.

"You—how could you be so shameless!" His voice was hoarse, with a nasal tone from just waking up, and surprisingly, it didn't sound so cold.

He instinctively tried to roll over and get away, but Xiao Jingyuan reacted even faster.

An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back into a tight embrace. His back slammed against a hot chest, and through the thin fabric, the man's heart pounded rapidly and heavily, drumming against his back like a drum.

"Don't move." Xiao Jingyuan's voice sounded behind his ear, deep and forceful. "The injury there is severe; it will be even more painful tomorrow if you don't treat it. If you're angry, you can scold me however you want after the medicine is applied—but don't move now, be good."

Xie Qinglan was held so tightly by him that she couldn't move, her whole body was trembling, and she felt so ashamed and angry that she wanted to die.

He had lived for twenty-six years, and no one had ever dared to treat him like this.

But he couldn't move. Xiao Jingyuan's arm remained firmly around his waist, but his other hand didn't leave. It was dipped in the cool ointment, and the movements were slower and gentler than before, as if he were touching a fragile piece of porcelain.

"Does it hurt?" Xiao Jingyuan asked in his ear, his voice hoarse.

Xie Qinglan bit his lower lip, refusing to make a sound. He buried his face in the brocade pillow, his fingers gripping the blankets until they turned white.

The cool sensation of the ointment melting was like a thin snake, slowly crawling along his spine. He shuddered, unable to tell if the spreading sensation was coolness or something else, and bit his lip to suppress the tingling shiver.

He couldn't say it hurt, nor could he say it didn't. He couldn't say anything, because if he opened his mouth, he was afraid that what he would utter wouldn't be a curse, but something else entirely.

Xiao Jingyuan didn't ask any more questions. He carefully finished applying the ointment, then gently tucked Xie Qinglan's undergarments into his robes and covered him with the brocade quilt. But his arms around Xie Qinglan didn't loosen; instead, they tightened even more.

He buried his face in the back of Xie Qinglan's neck, took a deep breath, as if trying to etch the person's scent into his bones.

"I know you're cursing me in your heart." His voice was muffled, with a hint of barely perceptible grievance. "Go ahead and curse me. I won't let you go anyway."

Xie Qinglan didn't speak. He bit his lip, closed his eyes, and swallowed all the sounds back into his throat.