Chapter 377: Chief, You Wouldn't Want the Crown Prince to Turn Bad, Right?

Chapter 377: This First Seat, You Wouldn't Want the Crown Prince to Go Bad, Would You?

"Invite who in?" Tang Wanzhuang's face flushed red outside the door, and she said with a hint of reproach, "This is a secret chamber; if you don't open the door, no one can enter."

"Ah..." Zhao Changhe jumped off the bed and went to open the door. "Forgot about that, come in quickly."

Seeing his somewhat eager demeanor, Tang Wanzhuang's face reddened even more.

What are you thinking? What do you think I came here for...

But as soon as Zhao Changhe closed the door, his next words were: "How are you? You clearly coughed up blood after fighting with Maitreya, your face was as pale as paper. Why didn't you rest properly and instead forced yourself to preside over work?"

Tang Wanzhuang didn't know what she was feeling. She said helplessly, "Someone had to take charge. Should I leave it to Wang Daozhong? Or Yang Jingxiu?"

"And now?"

"They've all left. Yang Jingxiu did leave a message, hoping you'll attend his birthday banquet next month..." Tang Wanzhuang's beautiful eyes fixed on his face for a long moment, then she suddenly smiled. "He clearly values you highly, even more than he values me."

"We'll see about that. Right now, I just want to know how badly your injuries are suppressed. I'm afraid that if I turn around, you'll collapse."

Tang Wanzhuang couldn't help but laugh. "How could it be that exaggerated..."

But even as she said that, her complexion was still visibly pale, with an extremely unhealthy look, and one could even vaguely detect a trace of black qi... After learning the Return to Spring Technique, Zhao Changhe had gained a vague understanding of human medicine, and the sight made his heart pound with a sense of wrongness.

His expression turned serious as he grabbed Tang Wanzhuang's hand.

Tang Wanzhuang didn't resist, quietly watching him.

Zhao Changhe held her hand; it was warm and soft, but ice-cold. He had no mind to savor the sensation, carefully probing with his true qi to sense her condition.

After a detailed examination, he breathed a slight sigh of relief.

The blood she coughed up was actually just normal shock damage from facing a powerful opponent. Zhao Changhe himself had suffered such injuries far too many times to count, and he barely took them seriously. It was no wonder Tang Wanzhuang also seemed relaxed and unconcerned.

Moreover, he had to admit, her meridians were truly thick, and her dantian was truly vast...

Compared to his own meridians, which he had painstakingly widened to normal levels, hers made his look like a child's—she truly had the kind of excellent bone structure for cultivation. This was why she could master any technique with lightning speed, and the explosive power of her true qi far surpassed Zhao Changhe's, because her meridians could withstand greater capacity.

Coupled with her long, deep, seemingly inexhaustible true qi, it supported her faltering body, allowing her to return after being injured and presiding over much work as if nothing had happened.

Under normal circumstances, even if she had been coughing earlier, it wouldn't have been a big deal. A bit of medicine and a couple of days of rest would have been enough.

But the problem was, this was not a normal situation.

As Zhao Changhe probed further, his expression, which had relaxed, gradually darkened like the bottom of a pot.

Earlier, she had been suppressing the third secret realm, refusing to open it... According to what the Blind One had said, the issue wasn't with her lung meridian but with her soul, which was why even Xia Longyuan had been helpless against it. The so-called lung meridian damage, as he could now see, was actually caused by her suppressing the power of the third secret realm. The power had no outlet, so she had to use a single meridian as a "floodgate," constantly scouring it, leading to severe damage.

Originally, after another year or so of this, the meridian would have been completely ruined, and she would have died...

This time, she had tried to completely release the suppression, which meant it wouldn't just be one meridian bearing the flood; it would erupt violently. In the short term, it might allow her to kill Maitreya and resolve the crisis in Xiangyang, but it could also cause the surging power to completely overwhelm her body, leading to a fatal explosion.

Fortunately, Zhao Changhe had stopped her in time, and she had only managed to open a tiny crack.

Just that tiny crack had allowed her to crush Maitreya, who had been her equal before.

But that same tiny crack was now scouring her already overburdened lung meridian even more fiercely. Now, the meridian looked like a rope gnawed by rats—full of holes, shaky, and on the verge of breaking. If it could have lasted a year or so before, now it might be halved.

Add to that the shock damage and the blood she coughed up, and it was even worse—maybe halved again.

You have at most three months left to live! And you can still smile, and smile so gently!

Zhao Changhe was furious. "Do you even know what condition your body is in?"

Tang Wanzhuang felt the peculiar sense of returning spring within her, as if it were healing the shock damage she had just sustained. But the force was weak, almost insignificant—at most enough to treat a small cut. Yet he still futilely poured his strange power into her, completely ignoring that he himself was injured, with blood still seeping from his shoulder...

He was cursing her, his face full of anger, but his hands were healing her, as if he wanted to pour all his strength into her.

Tang Wanzhuang smiled again, her voice soft. "I know."

"Then why are you still smiling?" Zhao Changhe grew anxious. "My methods are useless for this!"

"What does it matter?" Tang Wanzhuang said quietly. "A person's life is like grass and trees in autumn. To be able to do what one wants, to see things slowly getting better—what more could one ask for?"

"What's getting better? Maitreya escaped, the south is still unsettled, the north is about to fall into chaos again. Do you have any idea what Wang Daozhong is up to?"

"But..." Tang Wanzhuang lowered her voice. "Now... there is you..."

Zhao Changhe stared at her with wide eyes.

Tang Wanzhuang looked back, her eyes shimmering with moisture, their true meaning unclear.

Zhao Changhe's voice turned cold. "Is that how you see it?"

Tang Wanzhuang bit her lip and didn't answer.

Zhao Changhe said coldly, "I said I'm here because I care about you wearing yourself out. If the world had no you, why would I do any of this?"

Tang Wanzhuang shook her head slightly. "You would. Because you can't stand to see it."

Zhao Changhe exploded with rage. "Believe me, the moment you die, I'll join the Four Symbols Sect immediately. I'll become the leader of the rebellion!"

"It doesn't matter. At that time, you would still be doing things that make the world a better place..."

Zhao Changhe suddenly fell silent. He knew Tang Wanzhuang was right.

But the anger in his eyes still burned.

You've found a successor, someone who might even do better than you, and so you can die in peace, is that it?

Is that all I am to you? And what do you think you are to yourself?

"Not even respecting your own life—don't talk about respecting the world. It sounds too hollow." Zhao Changhe finally spoke, his tone calm. "Actually, you're too optimistic if you think that after you die, I'll do what you expect."

Tang Wanzhuang watched him quietly.

In truth, she didn't even know how much of what she said was genuine... Since it couldn't be cured, what else could she say?

Should she say she was sad, that she couldn't bear to leave, only to make him suffer and watch her die in despair?

What would be the point?

But now, seeing his calm yet simmering anger, Tang Wanzhuang felt just as sad.

Yet what could be done? Even the Emperor couldn't cure her, and his meager efforts were a drop in the bucket. What could be done?

Then Zhao Changhe spoke. "Do you know that without Yue Hongling, there might not be a chivalrous Zhao Changhe? He would only be a bandit, raising the banner of 'acting on behalf of Heaven,' engaging in outlawry, bloodthirsty and violent."

Tang Wanzhuang's eyes flickered.

"And do you know that without Tang Wanzhuang, Zhao Changhe might have become a second Xia Longyuan?" Zhao Changhe said slowly. "Many people have said it before. Even Yangyang, who knows nothing of the world, could see it—I spoke in a Zhao dialect, looking coldly at this world as if you were all characters in a book, all joys and sorrows having nothing to do with me... Don't tell me you didn't see it."

Tang Wanzhuang finally said, "I did. But that's no longer the case..."

"I stepped into this game because of whom?" Zhao Changhe raised his voice. "Can't you see that either?"

Zhao Wang Tang.

It seemed to have been revealed long ago.

Tang Wanzhuang lowered her head slightly, her voice soft. "You and I have an agreement... no romantic involvement... you promised you had no interest in me."

"Don't flatter yourself. Do you think I care about your looks, Auntie?" Zhao Changhe said coldly. "It's because there is someone like you who makes me feel there is light in this chaotic world. But have you ever thought that if this person's example to me is a bad end, do you think I'd still be willing to continue?"

Tang Wanzhuang was taken aback. She had never considered such an angle.

"Those who carry firewood for the masses should not freeze to death in the snow." Zhao Changhe finally softened his voice, speaking slowly. "Whether out of public duty or chivalry, such a person should not meet a bad end... Some might say that makes it profound. I say to hell with profundity. I just want a fairy tale, a perfect fairy tale to strive for. I don't want to toil half my life only to end up with a shattered illusion."

Tang Wanzhuang felt a stir in her heart, as if something had struck deep within, sending ripples spreading outward.

Fairy tales, huh...

Who isn't an idealist, after all...

"You only care about your own ideals—have you ever thought that you're shattering mine? Or in your eyes, the ideal of this poor bear isn't worth mentioning?"

Tang Wanzhuang blurted out: "That's not how it is."

"You might not know what a man looks like when his ideals are shattered." Zhao Changhe, as if he hadn't heard, looked her up and down, taking in her delicate, well-proportioned figure: "Just thinking about my own pleasure—who can't do that? I want pleasure too. Look, you're about to die—how about letting me have some fun before you go?"

Even though she knew he was provoking her with angry words, Tang Wanzhuang still bristled, her brows shooting up, and instinctively raised a hand to slap his face.

Zhao Changhe had expected it. He moved like lightning, catching her wrist: "You're this badly wounded, and still putting on airs."

"Bang!" He pressed forward a step. Tang Wanzhuang felt a surge of force, pushed back a step, her back hitting the door of the secret chamber.

Zhao Changhe leaned down, his face close to her pale lips, and said in a low voice: "Without Tang Wanzhuang, Zhao Changhe might end up like this from now on... You wouldn't want to see that, would you, Chief?"

Tang Wanzhuang didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his words, but this overwhelming pressure made her inexplicably flustered. She weakened, saying: "I told you, it's not like that..."

"Just because it can't be cured? So you said those reckless, self-destructive words?"

"Just because it can't be cured."

"You want to be cured?"

"...I want to be cured."

"Then fine, cooperate with me." As Zhao Changhe spoke, he suddenly lowered his head and fiercely kissed her on the lips.

Tang Wanzhuang, caught off guard, felt her mind go blank.

What is this? Didn't I say it's not like that? And didn't you already understand that I was just talking recklessly out of despair?

So why are we still kissing?