Ji Qingwu asked again, "Where exactly are they?"

Wei Ting knew how stubborn this woman could be—sometimes more obstinate than a mule.

He extended a hand and pointed toward the room, giving her his answer.

Ji Qingwu glanced back. The door to the room was shut tight, and not a sound came from within. She didn’t know what methods Wei Ting had employed, but she presumed her maids were unharmed.

She said, "General Wei, for you to barge directly into my personal garden... isn’t that improper?"

Wei Ting countered, "If I had sent a formal request to visit, would you have received me?"

Ji Qingwu didn’t answer. Her silence said it all.

Wei Ting said, "There’s nothing improper about it. I’ve been waiting here for you the whole time. I didn’t interrupt your important discussion with the Eldest Princess."

He hadn’t just arrived. He had chanced upon Princess Hua Chang’s carriage outside the Ji Mansion and had been waiting for Ji Qingwu in Wutong Garden for some time.

Ji Qingwu knew she couldn’t blame the household guards. For a man of General Zhenbei’s skill, sneaking into the Ji Mansion was child’s play.

Annoyed, she said, "This is the inner residence of the Ji Family. By trespassing into a maiden’s private chambers, aren’t you tarnishing the name of a gentleman, General Wei?"

Wei Ting looked as though he’d heard a joke. A smile spread across his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He shook his head. "Doctor, surely you haven’t always considered me an honorable gentleman?"

Ji Qingwu had no desire to rehash the past.

Just as she’d told Mrs. Qiao, what was past was past.

’In the matter of her failed ’conquest’,’ she thought, ’I don’t owe Wei Ting a thing. At most, I was a nuisance to him.’

Now, regardless of Wei Ting’s reasons for wanting to marry her, Ji Qingwu decided she had to make herself clear.

"General Wei," she began, her gaze sharp and resolute, "regarding the request you made at the morning court session today... I will not agree to it."

Although Wei Ting had expected her to refuse, hearing her articulate the words so clearly—that she would not agree to marry him—still made his expression darken.

His face fell. "Doctor," he said sarcastically, "you once pursued me relentlessly. Why do you now avoid me like the plague? A woman’s heart is truly a mystery. I only wish to fulfill the desire you held five years ago. Why refuse me?"

Ji Qingwu arched an eyebrow. "As you said, General, that was five years ago. A person’s heart is a fickle thing, especially after so many days and nights have passed."

Wei Ting had rarely seen her so sharp-tongued. In the past, she had always been gentle, sweet, and completely submissive.

After so many years in the army, he had cultivated a deadly aura meant to intimidate his enemies.

He strode forward, not bothering to restrain his intimidating presence in the slightest.

A chill ran down Ji Qingwu’s spine. She bit her lip, but she didn’t back down, meeting his gaze directly.

Wei Ting stopped right in front of her. With a cold expression, he asked, "You say hearts are fickle, Doctor. Has yours changed? Who is it you’ve set your sights on?"

Ji Qingwu’s bright eyes flickered. "There’s no one. Marriage should be a matter of mutual consent. I am not willing, so why must you insist on making this difficult, General?"

Wei Ting scoffed and leaned in closer.

"Doctor, you haven’t changed much at all. You’re still as... predictable as ever."

Ji Qingwu knew that wasn’t a compliment. She retorted coolly, "You, on the other hand, have changed a great deal, General. Your intentions are as difficult to fathom as ever."

Wei Ting’s voice grew heavy. "You’re lying."

"When you claimed over and over that you loved me, you were lying."

Ji Qingwu averted her gaze. ’So, he knew all along that I wasn’t sincere.’

’But after playing a part for so long, who could say for certain that there wasn’t at least a sliver of genuine feeling mixed in?’

Staring at the soft lines of her profile, Wei Ting said in a low voice, "And you’re lying now when you say there’s no one you desire."

Ji Qingwu’s eyelashes fluttered. It was true. The moment he’d said those three words—"has yours changed"—the image of another man had surfaced in her mind.

But the more one tries to hide matters of the heart, the more they show.

Ji Qingwu’s gaze grew even more evasive, flickering more than the light glinting on the surface of the nearby pond.

This time, Wei Ting truly smiled.

His tone was mocking, though it was unclear whether he was mocking her or himself. "Aside from your fickle heart, you really haven’t changed a bit."

He lowered his head, leaning in even closer. Her face was even more stunning than he remembered, like morning dew on a flower—translucent, sparkling, an almost otherworldly beauty.

"This face is as bewitching as ever."

The proximity was far too close for comfort. Ji Qingwu took an uneasy step back, a threat lacing her voice.

"This is the Ji Mansion. You would do well to consider the Empress Dowager’s dignity in your actions, General Wei."

But even her mention of the Empress Dowager didn’t faze Wei Ting.

"Why don’t you speak up? Go on, shout. Let everyone in the Ji Family come and see. Let the entire city know I was here in your private garden."

He had no regard for the dignity of the Ji Family or the Empress Dowager, nor did he seem to care whether she was willing to marry him or not.

Ji Qingwu lowered her gaze, her eyes falling on the plants by the low fence at her feet. A long-stemmed grass had grown half as tall as she was, its fronds swaying against her lower back.

She repeated herself. "General Wei, why exactly are you here? If it was to ask my opinion, I have already made it perfectly clear: I am not willing to marry you."

Wei Ting said, "I didn’t come to ask for your opinion. I came to confirm two things."

"The first has already been confirmed."

’What did he confirm?’

Ji Qingwu looked slightly puzzled, but her left hand slipped behind her back, quietly gripping something.

"And now," Wei Ting’s voice sounded again, "for the second."

"What is it?"

Wei Ting suddenly reached out to pull her in by the shoulder.

Sensing his intent, Ji Qingwu did the opposite of what he expected and moved closer, into his arms.

Her words had been full of rejection, yet her body now pressed against him willingly. Surprise flashed across Wei Ting’s face, and for a moment, he could only stare at her, stunned.

Ji Qingwu tilted her head back as if to cooperate with his intimate gesture, raising her pale left hand to gently touch the side of his neck.

He felt her cool fingertips brush against his skin. They trembled almost imperceptibly as they came to rest lightly over his carotid artery.

Wei Ting’s arm had been resting loosely around her, but now he subconsciously moved to pull her soft, fragrant body flush against his.

Just then, a sharp RUSTLE came from the massive Wutong tree behind them, its branches blotting out the sky.

A man clad in black, his face masked, leaped down from the tree.

The short sword in his hand flashed out, forcing Wei Ting and Ji Qingwu apart.

Ji Qingwu knew with a single glance that it was Si Hai.

Unlike Sanchuan, Si Hai’s eyes held the high-spirited vigor unique to youth, sharp as a newly honed blade.

At his appearance, Wei Ting instinctively took two steps back.

The masked man’s ability to conceal his presence was so superb that even Wei Ting hadn’t sensed him. A flicker of understanding crossed Wei Ting’s eyes, however.

Ji Qingwu hadn’t expected the Hidden Guard assigned to her by the Emperor to make a move.

’If it came to a real fight with Wei Ting, Si Hai is still too inexperienced,’ she thought, moving to stand beside him.

Wei Ting had already masked all emotion in his eyes, and the smirk returned to his lips.

"At court this morning, there was a long line of men asking for your hand. What, are you keeping one at home as well?"

Ji Qingwu didn’t deny it. Instead, she went along with his insinuation and offered a faint smile.