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Song Feiwan smiled sweetly, "Mhm!" This time, she held the wine cup with both hands, her earnest demeanor quite adorable.
Xiao Yu felt his heart soften unexpectedly, and he poured her some wine with one hand.
Song Feiwan said seriously, "Your Highness, I will drink this."
"Mhm."
She took a small sip, and the bubbles were simply delightful!
"How is it?" Xiao Yu asked. "Does this king's wine suit your taste?"
"Delicious," Song Feiwan instinctively blurted out her true feelings, then suddenly paused, nearly biting her tongue.
She chuckled awkwardly, trying to cover up her slip, "What I meant was, I haven't really tasted it yet; I need to drink a bit more."
"Haha." This time, Xiao Yu finally laughed out loud.
He placed the wine jug beside Song Feiwan and said graciously, "Then take your time drinking."
Like a greedy little fox, Song Feiwan hugged the wine jug and replied, "I will not disappoint Your Highness."
Xiao Yu scoffed lightly, his tone formal. "Take it easy," he said casually. "This wine may taste sweet, but its alcohol content is not low; it has a strong aftereffect."
Song Feiwan nodded, looking even more obedient in his eyes. She squinted playfully and brightened her fingertips. "Look at this!"
Xiao Yu focused his gaze; it was a silver needle.
Song Feiwan tucked the needle away and happily poured herself more wine. "If I really get drunk, I'll just prick myself a couple of times; I'll be sober in no time. Your Highness need not worry; I won't make mistakes."
Xiao Yu: He was concerned not about whether she would make mistakes.
Well, he thought, at least he could keep an eye on her.
The two exchanged words in hushed tones, their movements subtle and restrained throughout the conversation.
Even his demeanor was not as refined as some officials and the ladies they brought into the palace. Yet in Rong Jia Yi's eyes, everything was harmonious and beautiful, leaving no room for a third party to intrude.
He raised his cup and downed the strong liquor in one gulp. In the depths of his dark eyes, resentment and jealousy churned. The alcohol magnified the hidden grievances in his heart, making it feel as if a giant hand was stirring his chest.
Scenes of Xiao Yu and Song Fei Wan together flashed repeatedly before his eyes. Suddenly, he realized he had crushed the cup in his hand.
Rong Huan heard the noise and looked over in confusion. Rong Jia Yi froze for a moment, releasing the shards of porcelain from his grip. He took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around the bleeding wound on his palm.
The injury on his throat had not fully healed; his already hoarse voice became even lower. "It was an accident," he explained.
Rong Huan replied, "If it’s serious, you should see a physician."
"No need," Rong Jia Yi said curtly.
What he needed to heal was not his hand but his heart. At this moment, he could no longer turn a blind eye or deceive himself. He had genuinely developed feelings for Song Fei Wan, who was nominally his sister-in-law.
If Xiao Yu hadn’t returned, perhaps he would still have some chance. As for whether marrying Xiao Yu's beloved would affect his reputation, he didn’t care at all. After all, he had already lost three fiancées and had little reputation left to speak of.
Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had been a favored child of destiny, sailing smoothly through life except for matters of marriage. This was the first time he felt such defeat.
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