The Regent’s Little Emperor (61)

Bai Weiwei’s eyelids drooped. Her face was pale, without a trace of affection.

She suddenly smiled. Her empty eyes gained life, like a spring breeze thawing winter ice. It was beautiful and lively.

Such a beautiful smile, but her words were completely ruthless.

“Xie Yunting, you really disappoint me.”

Xie Yunting was momentarily still, not knowing what he did wrong.

Even the most formidable man, when faced with the person in his heart, couldn’t help but offer up his heart, and his brain wouldn’t be half as intelligent as it usually would be.

Bai Weiwei’s fingers lightly caressed his eyebrows. “How amazing you were, seeing you for the first time. Parading through the streets on horseback, high-spirited and energetic. Later, you were so intelligent, your elegance unparalleled, with countless followers. Who in the world didn’t admire Tai Fu?”

Xie Yunting didn’t expect that he would be evaluated so highly in her eyes.

But when she said these words, her eyes didn’t hold a trace of admiration. They didn’t give him the chance to misunderstand.

Bai Weiwei’s smile remained unchanged, but her tone became more serious. “But seeing you now, how are you any different from that petty Xiu nu from the inner chambers1?”

Xie Yunting: Xiu nu from the inner chambers…

Bai Weiwei retracted her hand and raised her head, looking at him with cold eyes.

“What stray dog? You really have the face to love me like this. Not carrying out reform, not ascending to the throne, narrow-minded and lacking foresight. Besides running in circles around me, what else have you done during this time?”

A thousand arrows pierced his heart like so.

His fiercely burning heart wasn’t prepared to be kicked to the ground and crushed into dust by her disdain.

Bai Weiwei’s face was cold. “For Tai Fu Daren, who I once worshipped, to become like this, it’s truly a disappointment. You have no qualifications to love me as you are now.”

Xie Yunting was stiff for a moment before he realized what she said.

He thought he had mentally prepared himself to face the little emperor’s hatred.

But when he opened up his most vulnerable place to her.

Her insults and cutting remarks still hurt to the point of death2.

Xie Yunting retreated several steps, in utter despair3. He looked at her, but only saw the endless cold in her eyes.

“I don’t deserve to love you, but Chen Jingzhi does?”

Bai Weiwei smiled sweetly. “Between me and him, what’s the use of deserving or not deserving?”

Intimate and tender.

She was only like that with him, with Chen Jingzhi.

One was just a filthy thing in the mud, and the other was a heavenly treasure.

Xie Yunting laughed bitterly. “You aren’t afraid that I’ll kill Chen Jingzhi?”

Bai Weiwei sneered at him. “Then I will die with him. As companions on the road to the yellow spring, we will meet again in the next life.”

Xie Yunting was finally provoked, unable to suppress his grief and madness.

He reached out to grab her arm and dragged her over to the bed. He forcefully shoved her onto the bed.

Bai Weiwei fell and was so dizzy she struggled to raise her head.

She saw Xie Yunting, with a sinister and ruthless face, walk over, carrying a thin chain in his hand.

Bai Weiwei’s face changed drastically, and without time to think, she tried to jump out of bed to escape.

But she wasn’t as fast as Xie Yunting. He came to her in the blink of an eye and pushed her back into bed.

Bai Weiwei crawled in bed with some panic. “Xie Yunting, what are you doing?”

Xie Yunting didn’t say a word. He grabbed her white and slender ankle and forcefully dragged her over.

She couldn’t struggle at all, the chain that shackled her feet rested coldly against her ankle.

1: 闺中秀女: the engines keep calling them showgirls, but I’m pretty sure they’re low-ranking palace ladies or concubines. 闺 is a boudoir/lady’s apartment (??). This refers to the inner doors of a house, where the women typically reside.↩

2: 痛不欲生: to be so in pain as to not want to live; be so grieved as to wish one were dead.↩

3: 失魂落魄: lit. lost soul, dropped spirit; scared out of one’s wits.↩

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