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

The palace doors were pushed open from the outside.

"Qinglan".

Xiao Jingyuan burst in carrying a bowl of porridge and immediately saw Xie Qinglan lying on the ground.

The bowl of porridge nearly slipped from his hand. He slammed it down on the table, rushed over, squatted down, and reached out to help him up. "What are you doing, getting up and causing trouble?"

Xie Qinglan raised her hand and forcefully pushed his wrist away, saying coldly, "Don't touch me."

Xiao Jingyuan's hand froze in mid-air, his brows furrowing into a knot. Anyone else would have been dragged out and beaten to death long ago, but facing this man, he couldn't vent his anger at all, only feeling a tightness in his chest: "Are you hurt? Let me see."

"I don't need your fake kindness!"

Xie Qinglan brushed his hand away, braced himself on the ground with one palm, and gritted his teeth to straighten up. His right leg trembled weakly, his knee was scraped raw, and blood seeped out, leaving red spots on his pale underpants. Even in this disheveled state, he still kept his back ramrod straight.

Xiao Jingyuan's gaze was fixed on the bloodstain on his knee, and his heart ached. Without saying another word, he scooped the man up in his long arm and carried him horizontally, his arms holding him tightly, not allowing him to struggle at all.

Xie Qinglan instinctively tried to struggle, but her entire body ached, and even struggling seemed futile. Her fist slammed into Xiao Jingyuan's chest, but the man didn't budge.

He was both angry and ashamed, turning his face away from everyone, but the tips of his ears turned red quietly, hidden in the shadows of his hair, so that no one could see it.

Xiao Jingyuan put him back on the bed, pulled the brocade quilt over him, then squatted down and held his ankle.

"Let go." Xie Qinglan frowned and hissed, trying to pull her ankle back, but he held it firmly.

Xiao Jingyuan seemed not to hear him, pulled out a pair of plain soft shoes from under the bed, pinched his heel with his fingertips, and slowly put them into the shoes.

Xie Qinglan looked down at him. The emperor, the supreme ruler, was now kneeling beside his bed, bending down to put on his shoes. A faint, strange feeling welled up in her heart, but she quickly suppressed it.

After putting on his shoes, Xiao Jingyuan got up and took a moon-white brocade robe, draping it over his shoulders.

As his fingertips brushed against the bruises on his collarbone, his movements abruptly stopped, and his knuckles quietly curled up.

Those were marks left by his loss of control last night.

A surge of restlessness mixed with regret welled up inside him, making his throat tight. He had never apologized to anyone before, and now he didn't know how to begin. In the end, he could only say softly, "The imperial kitchen made some plain porridge; have a little of it."

As he spoke, he picked up the bowl of porridge, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and then offered it to Xie Qinglan's lips.

Xie Qinglan glanced at him coldly and turned her face away: "I won't eat."

"It's past noon, and you haven't eaten or drunk anything since last night. Do you want to ruin your health?" Xiao Jingyuan's voice deepened, the spoon hovering in mid-air for a long time without moving. Seeing that the person still didn't react, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he forced out a sentence, "If you won't open your mouth, I don't mind feeding you with my mouth."

Xie Qinglan turned around abruptly, her eyes red with anger, and glared at him fiercely: "Xiao Jingyuan, you're shameless!"

Xiao Jingyuan stared at him intently, without a trace of a joke. He was by nature a reckless and unruly person, and in front of Xie Qinglan, his imperial dignity was worthless.

Xie Qinglan's chest heaved violently a few times. She had already experienced this man's arrogance last night. As the emperor, he showed no regard for rules or dignity whatsoever, and he did exactly what he said.

He gritted his teeth and reached for the bowl of porridge: "Give it to me, I'll drink it myself."

"I'll feed you." Xiao Jingyuan raised his hand to avoid his hand, and then brought the spoon to his lips again.

"No need."

"I will feed you." He repeated it again.

Xie Qinglan stared at the spoonful of porridge, then looked up at his face, which was so close to hers, his pale eyes shining with anticipation.

He remained silent for a long time before finally closing his eyes, slightly opening his mouth, and taking the porridge into his mouth.

The rice porridge was cooked until it was mushy, but it had a burnt and bitter taste, which made him frown almost imperceptibly.

Is this all you're going to give him? It's clear you haven't put in any effort at all.

Xie Qinglan swallowed it down, maintaining a perfectly composed facade, but in her heart she had already cursed the Imperial Kitchen and Xiao Jingyuan together.

Seeing that he swallowed, Xiao Jingyuan secretly curved his lips upward. He was actually panicking inside—he had personally gone into the imperial kitchen to cook this porridge, standing by the stove and turning the pot three times, but it still ended up being a little burnt. He was too embarrassed to say it, so he blamed it all on the imperial kitchen. Now that he saw that Xie Qinglan hadn't vomited it up, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that it must taste alright.

One spoonful, two spoonfuls, three spoonfuls… Xie Qinglan kept his eyes closed, his eyelashes drooping, swallowing silently. He dared not open his eyes, afraid that if he looked at Xiao Jingyuan even once more, the hatred in his heart would soften a little.

After taking the seventh spoonful, Xie Qinglan could no longer bear it. Suddenly, she raised her hand, grabbed the rim of the bowl, and snatched it away.

That's enough.

Caught off guard, Xiao Jingyuan's hand slipped from his grasp, and before he could react, a sharp "clang" rang out. The celadon bowl was slammed to the ground, shards of porcelain flying everywhere, spilling white porridge all over the floor and staining the hem of Xiao Jingyuan's black robe in a mess.

A shard of porcelain bounced to the edge of the bed. Xie Qinglan caught it with lightning speed, and with a flick of her wrist, the sharp porcelain blade was pressed against Xiao Jingyuan's neck. The movement was so fast that Xiao Jingyuan couldn't dodge it.

The porcelain blade pierced the thin skin, and a drop of blood seeped out, sliding down the porcelain shard and disappearing into the black collar.

Xie Qinglan's hands trembled, but she gritted her teeth and said coldly, "Xiao Jingyuan, do you really think I wouldn't dare to kill you?"

He was truly intent on killing him. This humiliation, this coercion, was like a knife tearing at his heart. But his wrist wouldn't obey him, trembling violently, causing the porcelain blade to involuntarily deviate slightly, missing even his vitals.

He hated Xiao Jingyuan, but he hated himself even more for being so useless.

Xiao Jingyuan remained motionless, not even blinking. He glanced down at the trembling shards of porcelain in his throat, then looked up and his gaze fell on Xie Qinglan's face.

"I believe you." He chuckled softly, "But Qinglan, you can't bring yourself to do it."

Xie Qinglan's pupils suddenly contracted, as if her most secret thoughts had been exposed, and her fingertips trembled even more violently: "What makes you think that?"

Xiao Jingyuan didn't answer, but stared intently into his eyes. Those eyes were extremely clear and cold, now covered with a thin layer of moisture, yet still stubbornly maintaining their coldness.

After a long while, he slowly raised his hand, his palm warm, and gently placed it on the back of Xie Qinglan's hand that was clutching the porcelain shard.

Xie Qinglan abruptly withdrew her hand, and the broken porcelain shattered and fell to the ground with a "clang," rolling far away.

He was terribly flustered. The reluctance hidden beneath his hatred was laid bare by Xiao Jingyuan's words, exposed to the light of day, leaving him nowhere to hide. The embarrassment was even greater than the hatred, burning his ears.

Xiao Jingyuan slowly stood up, looking down at him. All the previous cautious softness had vanished, leaving only the cold, hard pressure of an emperor, which made the air in the room freeze.

"I know you're unwilling. But since I've taken you, you have to accept it."

Xie Qinglan's breath hitched. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with disbelief: "What do you mean?"

"I say," Xiao Jingyuan leaned down, close to his ear, his warm breath brushing against his earlobe, each word carrying the obsessive tyranny of an emperor, "You cannot kill me. If I die by your hand, the Northern Shuo cavalry will surely raze Nanyue to the ground, and all will perish. You cannot die either—if you dare to die, I will make the entire Nanyue be buried with you."

When the emperor is angry, millions will die.

Xie Qinglan felt a chill run through her body, from her fingertips to her heart, her limbs going numb from the cold.

He looked at the face so close to his, handsome with striking features, yet concealing an unyielding ferocity—yes, he had forgotten that this man had ascended the throne amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood. It was widely rumored that the Emperor of Beishuo was a tyrannical and cruel ruler, but he had refused to believe it before, and had traveled thousands of miles to Beishuo. Now he could only consider it the bitter fruit of his own actions.

"What do you want?" he asked through gritted teeth, his words trembling, yet he still refused to back down.

"Stay obediently by my side," Xiao Jingyuan straightened up, standing with his hands behind his back. His imperial majesty silenced the room. "If you behave well, then Nanyue will be at peace. If you don't—"

He didn't finish his sentence. But the threatening implication was obvious.

This person has accurately grasped his Achilles' heel; no matter how much he hates Xiao Jingyuan, he would never gamble with the safety of innocent people.

Xie Qinglan turned her face away and remained silent.

Broken porcelain littered the floor, and the hall was so quiet that only their breathing could be heard. Xiao Jingyuan stood by the bed, his eyes downcast over Xie Qinglan's pale profile and the bruises on her neck. His heart ached as if it were being squeezed tightly by a hand.

He knew he was a scoundrel. Not only had he seized people without explanation, but he was also using his citizens to force him to stay. But he had no other choice.

He knew perfectly well who the man before him was. It was Prime Minister Xie of Nanyue, who held absolute power in the Nanyue court; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was the true ruler of Nanyue. Without pressuring him like this, without exploiting his weakness, he simply couldn't keep him.

He never regretted taking him last night. What he regretted was not controlling his strength, hurting him, leaving him covered in bruises, and causing him to fall.

Such a noble and virtuous prime minister, humiliated like this by him, he must hate him to the core. Should we say something to coax him?

But he was an emperor born into a military family, adept at battle and skilled at deception, yet utterly clueless about how to appease people. A thousand words stuck in his throat, unable to utter a single syllable.

He didn't know how to say it. From the first moment he saw him in the golden palace, in his crimson official robes, with his outstanding demeanor, he stood out like a plum blossom among the court officials. He was bewitched at first glance and even wanted to share half of the country with him.

He remained silent for a long time, ultimately uttering no kind words. If he stayed any longer, he feared he would lose his composure again. This was no exaggeration; just looking at this man's profile was enough to tempt him at any moment.

He turned and walked out of the hall, but just as he stepped half a step out of the door, a very soft voice called out from behind him: "Xiao Jingyuan".

He abruptly stopped, rooted to the spot.

I hate you.

The three words, as light as a sigh, yet as heavy as a thousand-pound hammer, struck his heart.

With his back to Xie Qinglan, his shoulders ramrod straight, he clenched his fists and forced himself to step out the threshold. The palace doors slowly closed behind him, shutting out the silence of the room and also shutting out the man's cold gaze.

The wind was strong under the eaves, making his eyes sting. He raised his hand to cover his face, and a chill seeped through his fingers.

My palms are wet.

Inside the hall, Xie Qinglan watched as the hall doors slowly closed, and the figure in black disappeared through the crack in the door. Unconsciously, she clenched the brocade quilt.

Do I hate it? Of course I hate it.

He dared not, nor did he want to, think about what might be hidden beneath the surface.