Substitute Bride Phoenix, The Tyrant's Pampered Demon Empress

Lian Jiuhua punched out at Han Moze’s chest, snarling, “Damn it! Where’s the spirit of brotherhood!”

Han Moze caught his fist, however, and smiled evilly, “You head would roll for such insolence!”

Feeling his fist being enveloped tightly and painfully by Han Moze’s palm, Lian Jiuhua promptly frowned and glared accusingly at him again, looking as if he was bullied as tears welled in his eyes.

This tyrant is bullying him again! How rotten could he be? Who could help him bully him in return?!

Still, finding that was about enough fun, Han Moze let go of his fist. Snorting coolly, he turned and headed outside.

Lian Jiuhua flexed his wrist at that, gritting his teeth as he winced in pain. “That tyrant! How ruthless!”

Han Moxi took his hand to see distinct bruising and swelling on the back of his hand, and slowly asked, “Does it hurt, Jiuhua?”

“What do you think?!”

“Well, that sounds about right. You’re the one who threw a punch at my brother… hadn’t you notice how much he changed over the last six months?” Han Moxi asked with a raised brow, as if he were perfectly aware of that.

“He does—not only is he better looking, he’s more high-browed and overbearing! It’s not like you don’t know how he left every attendee stunned when he arrived at my father’s sixtieth birthday, and everyone would have forgotten to bow if my father had not done so first.”

“Well, my brother had done your family a big favor by giving out a residence worth its weight in gold, along with five-thousand-year ginseng. Tut, tut… that’s probably the most extravagant birthday present your father would receive in life!”

Han Moxi could not help sighing at the thought of Han Moze’s generosity.

Lian Jiuhua’s mood improved considerably at that and smiled. “Let’s follow him, then… let’s see for ourselves what His Majesty is doing instead of seeing to his duties.”

“Of course.” Han Moxi replied, and left the divine throne side-by-side with Lian Jiuhua.

“By the way, when do you plan to get wed? You’re nineteen—it’s time to start your own family.” Lian Jiuhua asked the duke as they walked with some degree of urging.

Han Moxi’s eyes softened as he watched Qing’er play with snow from the distance, and said evenly, “Next June, tentatively.”

“Wouldn’t that be too late? That’s almost a year until then!”

“Qing’er said that she’s not ready, and I don’t want to force her.”

“Oh, you’re a calm one, Your Highness.”

Han Moxi smiled but said nothing. He wanted to tie the knot with Qing’er soon too, but he found Qing’er’s happiness more important than marriage.

He had grown up at the cold palace, and rarely would any people go out of their way to talk to him. If not for his connection to General Xu—his mother’s brother, he would never have been acquainted with his own brother who was dumped unceremoniously amongst the ranks of the royal secret agents, as well as Lian Jiuhua, the coward who always goofed off.

Indeed, he was doting on others because he had not been doted upon. When he first met Qing’er at Nan Li and saw how she had sacrificed herself for her house’s young lady, he thought that he was looking into a mirror: both equally foolish, unconditionally giving out more than what they could for those who grant them warmth.

On the other hand, Qing’er smiled unwittingly in delight when she saw Han Moxi approaching from the distance. She felt blessed in this life to have the noble duke fall for her, since she was at best cute in looks and had only the bare minimum knowledge when it came to the arts. Though she had learned more over the last year and appeared nobler, her status as an orphan remained etched in her heart.

No.

She still had her lady, whom she had long since thought off as her own sister. Ever since she saved Liu Rushuang on that winter day eight years ago, she decided to offer her lady all that she had without regrets.

With that thought, Qing’er looked in gratitude and happiness towards Liu Rushuang with tears glimmering in her eyes.