Young Master Sisi, Captivating Hearts

Hearing the words “musket squad,” Lingran connected them to the long iron tubes the servants were carrying, and her heart brightened: could it be that the muskets he spoke of were those tubular objects? They resembled the homemade flintlocks her uncle used for hunting in the countryside in her previous life, said to be contraband, secretly used by some villagers. If they truly were such weapons, Chu Liuxiang could almost certainly be a traveler from another world—otherwise, how could such advanced weaponry exist in this era? It seemed this Prime Minister from another world was versed in far more things than she herself…

Xu Shanquan didn’t dare interrupt, trailing behind the Young Master Hongxiao as he escorted the Prime Minister out.

Hongxiao watched Chu Liuxiang depart into the distance before turning back to beckon Lingran over.

Xu Shanquan moved closer first, her voice sweet: “Young Master, with the Prime Minister absent from the manor today, let me serve you instead.”

Lingran recalled her fierce demeanor from earlier, determined to eliminate her, and now saw her acting as sweet as spring water, which made Lingran grind her teeth in annoyance. Seeing Hongxiao summon her, Lingran deliberately sidled up and took Hongxiao’s hand, speaking in a coy tone: “Young Master, why not come to the Lanze Mountain Pavilion and join me for tea and conversation?”

Xu Shanquan’s willow brows arched, but Hongxiao pushed her away, his face devoid of any smile, his voice cold: “This girl is very important to me right now! If you wish to stay peacefully in the manor, don’t provoke her, or I won’t spare you!”

Lingran sneered at Xu Shanquan from the side—she found the expression difficult to maintain, not knowing why people here always wore such faces, and her smile nearly cramped her cheeks.

Xu Shanquan’s fair complexion shifted color several times, but in the end she dared not offend Young Master Hongxiao, crouching to show her obedience.

Hongxiao turned, grasped Lingran’s hand, and led her out of the main hall toward Lanze Mountain Pavilion.

His grip was strong, making Lingran’s bones ache. As she walked, she glanced sideways at Hongxiao, unable to fathom how such a breathtakingly handsome man could be involved in a romantic tale with Chu Liuxiang, nor why he seemed so concerned about the few words she had just carelessly spoken. She pondered how to explain herself.

Lingran resolved inwardly: now that she suspected Chu Liuxiang was from the twenty-first century, she must never reveal that she too was from another world. With Chu Liuxiang’s domineering personality, he would certainly not allow a second person possessing modern knowledge in this era—the chance of him killing her was high. Although Hongxiao had saved her life, his intentions remained mysterious; it was safest to keep herself hidden.

“Oh! Young Master Hongxiao, your grip is so strong, you’re hurting me!” Lingran began to fidget as soon as they reached halfway up the mountain, trying to withdraw her hand.

“Wasn’t it you who took my hand just now? What, now that we’re away from Xu Shanquan’s sight, you dislike me?” Hongxiao seemed to emerge from his reverie, releasing her hand, his expression nearly back to normal, though his tone brimmed with sarcasm. If not for the faint worry in his watery gaze, Lingran would almost believe he truly fancied her.

Rubbing her wrist, Lingran complained, “Young Master, you’re clever—you must know I did that just to vex that woman!”

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“How does getting close to me vex her? All I recall is someone crying out, promising to serve me as a beast of burden, to repay me with her life…”

Lingran immediately declared, “I… always keep my word. If there’s anything you need from me, Young Master, as long as I can do it, I’ll brave fire and water, and never refuse!”

Hongxiao replied, “I don’t need you to brave fire and water, just treat me sincerely.”

Lingran was caught off guard by his words, but luckily he said nothing more, and the two continued up to the summit.

Hongxiao did not enter the house, instead sitting in the pavilion.

Lingran quickly offered, “I’ll boil water and make tea for you.” In truth, she had no tea leaves here; she merely wanted to use the time to think of a strategy.

“No need, I’m not here for tea.” Hongxiao pointed to the stone bench in front of him. “Sit.”

Lingran sat uneasily, determined to deny whatever he asked about earlier.

Hongxiao’s face grew solemn. He spoke slowly, “I know you won’t admit it. But a person’s manner and speech reveal much about her true identity. If I’m not mistaken, you and the Prime Minister come from the same place.”

“Where is the Prime Minister from?” Lingran feigned ignorance.

“If I knew where the Prime Minister came from, I wouldn’t ask you. Your manners and expressions are much like the women of his homeland.” Hongxiao sat facing her, his captivating gaze locked onto Lingran’s eyes, as if tempting her to fall into their depths.

So he didn’t know about traveling between worlds! It seemed Chu Liuxiang hadn’t explained it clearly to him. Lingran plotted to fabricate a story to fool him for now, and deal with it later.

“I won’t harm you. If I meant you harm, I could have killed you outright. If you have secrets, you’d do well to tell me now—perhaps I can protect you if trouble arises in the future. But if you’re not honest today, don’t expect my help when anything happens.”

Lingran inwardly admired his eloquence; he hit the mark with every word, making her almost want to confess. Yet, unsure of his true intentions, she dared not be reckless and risk dying in vain, so she forced a smile and said, “I do have a question in my heart—could you answer me sincerely, Young Master?”

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Hongxiao stiffened just as she expected. “What is it?”

Lingran asked, “The Prime Minister dotes on you deeply—he seeks your beauty. What is it that you seek, Young Master?”

Hongxiao fell silent at her words, lowering his lashes to hide even his gaze from Lingran.

His lashes were long and curled, more beautiful than those of most girls, like butterflies gently spreading their wings. After a moment, he answered slowly, “The Prime Minister has shown me great kindness. I will do my utmost to protect him, not letting anyone harm him.”

Lingran could not truly believe Hongxiao cared for Chu Liuxiang sincerely, but his tone was so certain, especially when he vowed to prevent anyone from harming him—it sounded resolute, not feigned.

“I’ve answered you, and truthfully—now it’s your turn.” Hongxiao raised his eyes again, fixing Lingran with a burning gaze.

Never before had Lingran faced such a handsome man, eye to eye, especially one whose face bloomed like peach blossoms and whose eyes sparkled like stars. Before she could speak, her cheeks flushed red.

Hongxiao waited quietly for her to speak.

Lingran had prepared a story, ready to bluff, when Hongxiao suddenly turned his gaze toward the mountain path.

She followed his gaze, and her eyes brightened instantly. The breathtakingly beautiful Prince Xiang, Chu Yu, clad in plain robes, was ascending the mountain with Wu Wei and a young boy of thirteen or fourteen dressed as an attendant.

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