Volume One, Chapter Seven: The True Heiress Is a Powerhouse, Part Seven

An Qianqian pressed a hand to her forehead. Well, so close, yet so far.

"Let’s go, time to eat."

Wu Miaomiao’s eyes lit up. She immediately hooked her arm into An Qianqian’s, beaming so broadly her eyes disappeared into crescents. The jade jewelry set her sister-in-law had given her earlier was so dazzling she felt like she could strut through the streets sideways with pride. An Huanyang, trailing behind them, rolled his eyes so hard he felt his composure unraveling.

[Host! Host! Si Chengnian is at the Qianwei Restaurant right now. Why don’t you go eat there?]

"He was beaten up just this morning, and he’s out for dinner by tonight?" An Qianqian mused. "Doesn't he recover a bit too quickly?"

[Maybe he has a natural talent for it? Oh, never mind that! Host, hurry up, or you’ll have to wait for a table.]

An Huanyang chimed in, "Sister, the Qianwei Restaurant is the closest. Let's just go there."

"Fine."

Just as she was feeling sleepy, someone offered her a pillow.

As the trio entered the restaurant, they spotted a slender figure sitting at a table by the window—Si Chengnian. Before him sat only two modest vegetable dishes. He was looking down, eating slowly, his profile appearing somewhat pale under the candlelight. At a neighboring table, a few young men in brocade robes were pointing at him, their voices loud enough to be heard clearly:

"Oh, look, isn't that the hostage prince from the Yan Kingdom? Is that all he’s eating? Can't even afford a decent meat dish?"

"Shh, keep it down. He’s still of royal blood, after all. Don't give people cause to talk."

"Royal blood, so what? He’s just collateral sent from a defeated nation. Does he really think he’s still some golden branch or precious jade?"

Si Chengnian’s grip on his chopsticks tightened until his knuckles turned white, yet he did not look up, continuing to eat in silence. His table manners were refined, showing no sign that he was being mocked.

An Qianqian glanced his way, but didn't stop, heading straight for a private room on the second floor.

[Host, aren't you going to help him? Perhaps his wish right now is to drive these people away? This is a perfect opportunity delivered to your door. Go for it, Host!]

"No."

[Why not? This is a great chance!]

"I’m hungry. I want to eat."

An Qianqian turned away.

Just then, Si Chengnian finally looked up. His voice, initially slightly raspy from the rice, sounded as clear as melting icicles dripping in early spring, but the tail end turned sharp and cold, etched with the keenness of tempered steel:

"His Majesty issued a decree today forbidding any of you from bullying me. Are you planning to defy a royal order?"

That voice!

An Qianqian froze at the foot of the stairs as if someone had hit a pause button. Her eyes widened, her pupils shimmering like exploding fireworks. Good heavens! Was this a voice crafted from shattered jade chimes mixed with moonlight?

It was clear yet not ethereal, rich yet not cloying. The youthful, bright tone was laced with a stubborn chill, like the sensation of iced plum juice sliding down one’s throat, accented by the crisp sound of a mountain spring splashing against stone. What kind of divine, world-class voice was this?

The young men mocking him scoffed, "Defy the order? Go ahead and report us! Can you even see His Majesty right now? How laughable, treating a chicken feather as an imperial arrow."

*Thump.*

"Ah!"

"Which blind fool... threw that teacup?! Hiss—it hurts! It kills me!"

An Qianqian strolled down the stairs, not even glancing at the man clutching his mouth and groaning. She walked straight up to Si Chengnian and paused for a heartbeat.

*Wow, this kid...*

He looked incredibly clean. In the chaos of the day, she hadn't looked closely, but under the candlelight, he looked as if he had stepped right out of a painting. Especially those peach-blossom eyes; they were slightly upturned, and as he looked at her quietly, they seemed to hold a pool of spring water, almost ensnaring her soul.

"You... what is your wish? Tell me," An Qianqian asked, standing before him with a serious expression.

Before Si Chengnian could answer, the young man who had been struck rushed over, pointing at An Qianqian’s nose. "W-was it you? Hiss—my teeth are going to fall out! You little wench... ugh, it hurts!"

"Not me."

"I didn't do it."

"You’re talking nonsense."

An Qianqian denied it three times in a row.

An Huanyang looked at the empty spot on the waiter's wooden tray, then recalled the blur of his sister's hand as she threw the cup. A chill ran down his neck, and he couldn't help but shrink back. No wonder his sister was so generous with her spending and so graceful on horseback; even her aim with a teacup was startlingly accurate. She was hiding her true strength! It was no wonder she carried herself with an aura and capability so different from ordinary young ladies.

"Doesn't this young lady look like the legitimate daughter of the Duke of Rong who was at the Meridian Gate today?"

Someone whispered this, and the group of young men scrambled away in terror. They didn't want to end up like Liu Shan, especially since they lacked his background.

With the scene cleared, An Qianqian sat directly across from Si Chengnian. An Huanyang hesitated, then sat down with Wu Miaomiao.

"My thanks, Miss An." Si Chengnian stood and bowed.

*So pleasing to the ear!* This voice was truly too good. An Qianqian was already calculating: if she brought him back to the Duke's estate to read her bedtime stories every day, he surely wouldn't object, right?

"Forget the thanks; I didn't really do anything. Tell me, what is your wish?"

"I am merely a hostage from a defeated nation. It is a miracle that I am still alive; how could I dare to have any wishes?" He lowered his eyes, his tone as flat as if he were discussing someone else’s life.

"That won't do. You must name a wish."

If he didn't state a wish, how could she complete her mission? Was he trying to make things difficult for her? Would the world have to reset again?

But to Si Chengnian, her words carried a different meaning. He had always known the nobles of the Shang Kingdom were cruel; asking him about his wishes was clearly just another way to humiliate him.

"If Miss An finds it amusing to toy with me, then please, be on your way."

He didn't look at her again, gathering the untouched vegetable dishes into his food container with swift, detached movements. Clutching the container, he stood up, ready to leave.

"Hey, don't go!" An Qianqian jumped up, reaching out to stop him. Her mission wasn't finished yet; if he ran off, who would she ask for a wish?

Her wrist was caught by An Huanyang. He lowered his voice, "Sister, don't chase him. He is a hostage; his heart is guarded by nature. Pressing him like this will only make him more wary."

Wu Miaomiao nodded from the side, "That's right, Qianqian. A twisted melon is never sweet. Let's eat first; there will be plenty of opportunities to ask later."

An Qianqian watched Si Chengnian walk away. Thinking that there was plenty of time ahead, she stopped pursuing. As for her sister-in-law's point about twisted melons, she didn't agree. If the melon wasn't sweet, she could just add some sugar. The point was that she had to be the one to pluck it; it had to belong entirely to her!

"Fine. I'll go ask him again tomorrow."

An Huanyang and Wu Miaomiao exchanged glances, both sharing the same shock. Good heavens! Their sister usually seemed so cold and indifferent—who knew she had this side to her? This persistence in demanding a wish... this was forced love, wasn't it?!

Then, thinking of Si Chengnian’s face, the couple’s mental abacus started clicking away: *Tsk, he certainly is a handsome one!* Though, compared to their sister, he was still a bit lacking. If not for his status as a hostage, given those looks and that voice, snatching him back to the estate to keep as a pet... well, it didn't seem entirely impossible, did it?