The Rise of Phoenixes

Chapter 137

The schemes of the Imperial Family were subtle and byzantine, and the slightest mister could lead to a ghastly end.

Feng Zhiwei stared dazedly for a moment, and a smiling Ning Yi grabbed her hand and whispered by her ear: “Your hands are so cold; are you worrying for me?”

Feng Zhiwei stirred and returned Ning Yi’s smile, saying: “Yes, I am worried that I won’t get back my wine money.”

“Heartless woman...” Ning Yi chuckled, his breath warm and tingly on her ear. She moved away, but Ning Yi refused to let her escape, moving with her as he whispered: “You are heartless, but I am not. My words before were a lie, I am truly very worried about you...”

Feng Zhiwei immediately covered herself with her fake smile and opened her mouth to argue, but the man kept whispering: “I am worried that you’re surrounded by a wolf and a tiger, and that you won’t even notice when you are eaten...”

You are the only one who eats people!

Annoyance rose in Feng Zhiwei’s heart, but she was afraid that if she pushed him away the man atop the coach would notice — it would not be good if such a fine carriage was covered in walnut holes... But the carriage was too small and there was nowhere to hide away from the man sticking to her side. The infuriating man was finally leaving Dijing and its schemes, so he was relaxing — even the perpetual frown in his brows was loosening.

The more relaxed he grew, the more Feng Zhiwei worried of how she would suffer His Highness’s tyranny on the slow road to their destination.

She could not beat him; insults were useless; he had a higher status; his actions were cruel; his ways more vicious; and his heart harder...

Feng Zhiwei blinked and then suddenly smiled, grabbing a bottle of wine as she said: “Truly? Then I will use this bottle of famous ‘Half River Spring’ to show my appreciation for His Highness’s care.”

Ning Yi leaned on her lazily, very satisfied that the coach did not have enough room for her to run away. He gestured for Feng Zhiwei to serve the wine, and she smiled fakely as she reached for the cup, but before Ning Yi could react she reached out and pinched his nose and opened his mouth, pouring the entire bottle of alcohol down his throat.

She moved extremely quickly, her viciousness surprising Ning Yi; before he could react, the entire bottle’s worth of alcohol had slid down in throat into his stomach. His eyes watered as he coughed, and his lustrous, pale skin flushed. As he blinked, a lazy, tipsy aroma overcame him as his usual elegant beauty blushed seductively.

Unfortunately, Feng Zhiwei was immune to his charms and shrugged off the daze and confusion; without a single glance at the drunk beauty, she threw away the ‘Half River Spring’ bottle that had actually been filled with the blazing desert’s hard liquor ‘Three Days Drunk.’ Feng Zhiwei clapped her hands and called for her family’s little fool.

“Peach powder!”

Young Master Gu floated down from the roof and carried away the noble Prince Chu. As everyone watched in stunned amazement, he strode past the elegant carriages to the poorest cargo vehicle and stuffed His Highness within.

Everyone was still astonished by Prince Chu’s sudden appearance and stunned by his treatment when Feng Zhiwei leaned out of her carriage and yelled: “Brother Gu, that’s His Highness Prince Chu, don’t be so rude...”

She stamped her feet and protested loudly, her worried face obvious for all to see. Young Master Gu stood on the carriage’s roof, slowly eating his walnuts. Finally, he felt that Feng Zhiwei’s show was going too far and he shot a walnut at her.

After the walnut bounced off her, Feng Zhiwei retreated back into her carriage and lay down with her wine.

Everyone understood; Master Wei was not committing outrage. His expert powerhouse guard even dared beat the Crown Prince — who would dare stand in his way? All they could do was hurriedly rush over and save Ning Yi from the indignity of the carriage.

Helian Zheng eagerly rushed over, his eyes gleaming as he pushed everyone else aside. “I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” He called out, picking up His Highness and giggling as he ran over to the second carriage, doing his best to stuff Ning Yi under the seats within.

The dazed and drunk Ning Yi only managed to point a finger at Feng Zhiwei before passing out in the hands of the vicious Helian Zheng.

In the days that followed the forced drinking, Feng Zhiwei was miserable — she was suffering the bitter consequences of her prank. Turns out, His Highness was a lightweight who could only drink a few cups. A single drop over the edge could knock him out for an entire night, much less the entire bottle that Feng Zhiwei had forced down his throat.

Since he could not handle his drink, Ning Yi usually kept water in his liquor glass. Feng Zhiwei finally understood why Ning Yi dared toss back cup after cup right after his wound acted up.

Imperial Sons could never show any weakness, for any vulnerability could be used against them.

Feng Zhiwei sighed sadly as she kneeled by the riverside washing towels so that she could tend to the burning drunk guy. The man was truly outstanding — although he was clearly too drunk to be conscious, he could still recognize Feng Zhiwei. He lay drunkenly in his carriage waving away every attendant, only accepting Feng Zhiwei, laying silently as if to say: “you can do anything you want to me.”

Feng Zhiwei could only repeat her mantra — I am a righteous person I am a righteous person I am a righteous person — I do not see the young spring flesh I do not see the young spring flesh I do not see it I do not see it...

After repeating her mantra a dozen times, she lifted the basin of water and entered the carriage. Shutting her eyes, she began stripping away his robes, but just as she was undoing the buttons, Ning Yi opened his eyes and spoke, his voice droopy and slow: “Don’t be too violent...”

Feng Zhiwei’s hand quivered and she almost ripped the button off his robes as the man slowly closed his eyes and said: “Be gentle...”

Feng Zhiwei smiled, her lips dripping with honey as she asked: “Dizzy?”

“Dizzy...”

Feng Zhiwei gently undid his clothes, her dexterous fingers like a gentle breeze as Ning Yi lidded his eyes, luxuriating.

“Comfortable?”

“Very... massage my left shoulder.”

The man rested lazily, his clothes thrown open and his skin flushed. The smooth, lustrous texture of his skins and the delicate, powerful lines of his muscles were clear as day, and the faint fragrance of liquor hung on his cool breath, shrouding the confines of the narrow carriage.

Feng Zhiwei placed the cold handkerchief aside and rubbed her hands until they were warm, smiling as she massaged his left shoulder. She whispered gently into his ear.