Feng Yinwan fled shamelessly.
Before this, she had never imagined she would experience such a desperate day.
She couldn't recall how she left the Yuqian Palace. Shrouded in the night, she drove her legs forward almost instinctively, a single thought dominating her mind—
Leave this place.
Leave this awkward and embarrassing situation.
Leave these emotions that were beyond her control.
Leave Ye Tinglan.
Her mind was numb. When she regained her senses, she was already outside the palace gates.
Qi Xuan had left after escorting her. It was not yet time for the feast to end, so the prince's carriage was naturally nowhere to be seen.
Feng Yinwan hadn't expected it either.
She paused for a moment and instinctively prepared to walk back. However, as soon as she took a step, a chilling aura descended from behind her.
"Stop."
These two words felt like an eternity, yet they instantly intensified the ache in her heart to its peak.
Her body froze uncontrollably, her feet feeling as if they weighed a thousand pounds. She wanted to leave, but couldn't muster the strength.
"Where are you going?"
His voice remained as cold and indifferent as ever, devoid of any discernible emotion. Yet, in her ears, it only stirred a bone-chilling cold.
Her body trembled for a moment. Feng Yinwan pursed her lips, suppressing her eyelids. Her hands, hanging by her sides, were already clenched tightly around her clothes.
"Why must Your Highness come?"
He was taciturn and never pushed her away. He had never uttered a single word of affection.
His previous indifference towards Qin Rulian was likely due to genuine dislike. But Yun Shu was not Qin Rulian, and Ye Tinglan was not hers alone, Feng Yinwan's husband.
"Feng Yinwan, what are you causing trouble for?"
Her fingertips ached dully; they had already turned pale.
Feng Yinwan stubbornly refused to turn back, but she could imagine the frown on his face as he spoke.
Her eyelashes fluttered a few times. She forced herself to take a breath and took a step.
"Your Highness should return."
The sudden pain in her wrist made Feng Yinwan's delicate brows furrow. Her body was almost dragged by her wrist, the force causing her pain.
"What exactly are you causing trouble for?"
Her gaze met the moisture welling up in her eyes. The deep, cold anger in his ink-black eyes momentarily receded.
Ye Tinglan's thin lips pressed together. The large hand gripping her wrist tightened further. "Come back with me."
Feng Yinwan's body stiffened in silent resistance. But Ye Tinglan's martial prowess far surpassed hers, and subduing her was effortless.
Their tense standoff was about to break when Song Qingan's voice rang out from behind them.
"Prince Mo, please let go."
His breath was still unsteady, indicating he had hurried to catch up.
The scene from the palace today, where Feng Yinwan had spoken in his defense, flashed before Ye Tinglan's eyes. His brow furrowed, and his aura instantly turned furious.
"Get lost."
Song Qingan stood in front of Feng Yinwan, not backing down.
"Prince Mo, I can see that the Consort does not wish to return with you."
Prince Mo's handsome face darkened considerably. His narrow eyes narrowed dangerously, his displeasure reaching its peak.
"You are no match for me."
Song Qingan nodded. "I would be honored to spar with Your Highness and will do my best to try."
Rumor had it in the palace that Ye Tinglan had not fully recovered from his serious injuries. Although he had woken up, his powers had only returned to half their former strength, and this might even be their permanent limit.
The two stood poised for conflict, their auras clashing. Feng Yinwan pursed her lips and forcefully shook off his grip.
"You can go. I will not return."
She turned her face away, her refusal evident.
Ye Tinglan's expression turned ominous and cold. Before he could speak again, Song Qingan interrupted him.
"Prince Mo, please return. The Prince of Dingnan and Princess Chao'an are still waiting for you."
He had left the wedding ceremony halfway through to chase after Feng Yinwan, undoubtedly offending the Prince of Dingnan.
As soon as these words were spoken, lights flickered in the distance. Ye Tinglan's brow furrowed heavily, and he turned.
The oppressive aura instantly receded. Feng Yinwan's face turned pale, and her body seemed to lose all strength, slumping down weakly.
"Consort."
Song Qingan's hand hovered behind her, stopping just short of touching her.
Feng Yinwan shook her head, her tightly pressed lips turning pale.
"I will escort the Consort back."
Concerned about her condition, Song Qingan's voice was firm. However, Feng Yinwan still shook her head.
"I want to walk."
If she returned in her current state, Yuping would surely worry.
Song Qingan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
She deliberately chose a longer route back to the manor. From the palace gates to the imperial river, Song Qingan followed quietly behind, not asking any questions.
It was a lively time of night. Lanterns glowed brightly along both banks of the imperial river. They stood on a bridge, Song Qingan's tall, slender silhouette cast behind them, enveloping Feng Yinwan.
"Consort, are you tired? I know of a good wine shop nearby. Would the Consort care to join me?"
The celebration banquet had only just begun when she left the palace. Song Qingan had likely not eaten much either, having chased after her.
Thinking that she had caused him trouble, Feng Yinwan nodded. "Alright."
Her thoughts were still in a jumble. It wasn't until they boarded a painted boat that Feng Yinwan vaguely came to her senses. The wine shop Song Qingan mentioned was actually a boat on the water, possessing a unique charm.
The boat swayed gently. Song Qingan returned, holding two wine pots.
"It is often said that 'a drunken state can resolve a thousand sorrows.' Troubling thoughts persist no matter how much you ponder them. Would the Consort care to try?"
Feng Yinwan admitted that the suggestion appealed to her.
Alcohol had a way of causing trouble once one touched it. She disliked the feeling of losing control, so she rarely drank. But today, the rebellious spark within her had been ignited. After being so tense for days, she truly wanted to let go without restraint.
Of course, if she weren't pregnant.
Song Qingan seemed to have anticipated this.
"I know the Consort is with child and should not drink alcohol, so I have prepared tea instead. It is especially precious."
He held one wine pot, and the other was placed before her. One contained wine, and the other contained sweet tea.
This was his way of saying he would join her in drinking until they were both thoroughly inebriated.
A flicker of emotion crossed her heart. Feng Yinwan nodded, her voice very soft.
"Alright."
As he had promised to join her, Song Qingan didn't touch a single drop of wine. Feng Yinwan, on the other hand, grew tired of the sweet tea and ended up eating a lot of the dishes and pastries.
He hadn't lied; the food at this wine shop was indeed delicious.
Sometimes, Feng Yinwan truly felt that enjoying delicious food was an excellent way to alleviate sorrow, just like now.
When she came to her senses, she realized that she had eaten most of the food. A blush crept onto her face, and she said somewhat sheepishly,
"Young Master Song, please eat too."
As if in a daze, Song Qingan looked up. There was a hint of unfocused emptiness in his eyes.
He stared at Feng Yinwan for a long moment, as if his thoughts were slowly returning.
"Consort."
His speech was already a little slurred. Feng Yinwan frowned as she noticed a slight flush on his face.
Had he… gotten drunk?
The realization brought a wry smile to her lips.
He had promised to accompany her, yet he was the one getting drunk first.
Fortunately, Song Qingan had good temperance when drunk. He simply sat there quietly, causing no trouble or shouting.
Except for the way he stared at her, his gaze too direct and ardent.
Assuming he was merely drunk, Feng Yinwan sighed, feeling a strange headache.
Just as she was contemplating how to send him back, the person before her suddenly spoke again.
"Wan'er, do you really not remember me..."
His voice was very soft, almost a murmur, so faint that Feng Yinwan hadn't fully heard it before the night wind carried it away.
"Remember what?"
Her question was met with a soft thud.
Song Qingan still held his wine cup, but his head had already fallen onto the table.