Ice Dragon and Flower

Chapter 7: Main or secondary, it's still me

[It must be the Second Prince who seduced her. Yes, that’s it. She wouldn’t just abandon me on her own. It’s his fault…]

Hoàng Lãnh Thiên kept repeating in his head, as though hypnotizing himself, that his second brother was the root of all evil. Harnessing his qinggong, he darted swiftly across the intricately carved rooftops of the imperial palace. His destination: the chambers of his half-brother, Hoàng Bắc Dạ. With a loud crash, he kicked the doors open—so that’s where Mẫn Nguyệt had inherited her habit of barging in uninvited.

The vermilion doors, beautifully engraved with dragons and phoenixes, were reduced to splinters under his ruthless kick. The Second Prince was in the courtyard, going through the ledgers entrusted to him by their father. Bắc Dạ hadn’t even seen his brother yet when he heard the c***k of the shattered doors and recognized the voice of his reckless younger sibling.

“Hoàng Bắc Dạ! Get out here right now!”

Striding in with righteous fury, Lãnh Thiên radiated an aura of cold, murderous energy, like the White Dragon spirit coiled within him. Bắc Dạ, still bewildered, lifted his head in confusion, wearing a dazed expression.

“Sixth brother, you actually have free time today—”

That elegant, composed tone had barely begun before Lãnh Thiên seized Bắc Dạ by the collar, his eyes burning as though he would devour the rival standing before him. The slight shift of fabric revealed more of Bắc Dạ’s neck, and Lãnh Thiên had to admit his brother possessed a certain striking charm. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to process what madness was unfolding. Lãnh Thiên, however, paid no heed to the insolence of laying violent hands on his elder brother.

[Why are there red marks on his neck… hickeys?]

The more he looked, the more enraged he became. He had begged countless times just for a single kiss from Mẫn Nguyệt, yet this seemingly scholarly Second Prince bore vivid crimson traces along his throat. His fury exploded. He pummeled his brother mercilessly, deaf to any words that might have been spoken. All he could hear was the voice in his head urging him to crush his rival and reclaim his A Nguyệt.

Only when Bắc Dạ collapsed unconscious did he stop. But his rage had not cooled. He needed to find her—drag her back to her rightful place beside him. This time, no excuse, no refusal would stop him.

[My A Nguyệt… I should have built a golden cage with chains of gold to keep you locked away. Only then would you always belong to me, never chasing after others.]

Blazing with obsession, he mounted the White Dragon and soared toward the residence of the Grand Preceptor. Meanwhile, the real Hoàng Bắc Dạ stepped out of his chambers. He had, fortunately, used the Black Serpent’s skill to leave behind a shed skin as his decoy.

“Good thing my sixth brother was too blinded by rage to notice the switch. What on earth did I do to provoke him this time…”

He sighed, dusted himself off, and straightened his rumpled collar. The pitiful husk lying in the courtyard dissolved into snakeskin and drifted away on the stifling summer breeze.

At the Grand Preceptor’s manor, Tô Mẫn Nguyệt was strolling around, watching servants busily prepare for her coming-of-age ceremony—lanterns hung, rare blossoms arranged, tailors and jewelers bustling in and out with gowns and ornaments. She laughed brightly, eyes sparkling as she picked through exquisite treasures of jade, gold, and precious stones.

“This one, this one, and that one too. Forget the rest, I’ll take all of these.”

Her smile curved like a crescent moon as she cradled the jewelry in her hands.

[Should I wear blue tomorrow, or pink? As for that Sixth Prince… fine, I’ll reluctantly send him an invitation. But first, I need to sneak out and get some snacks. I’m starving. Everyone else is too busy fussing over preparations.]

She pouted, pressing a hand to her growling stomach. Her so-called diet that morning had left her weak with hunger.

At that moment, Lãnh Thiên arrived at the gates. His gaze fell on the bridal chests filled with glittering betrothal gifts. His eyes burned as though he could incinerate them outright. The image of her in a wedding gown, phoenix crown, and bridal palanquin alongside his brother gnawed at him like poison. He shook his head violently, trying to banish the thought—only to see her skipping happily toward the gates. His fury erupted anew.

[How dare you smile like that at his betrothal gifts!]

He lunged forward, seized her, and vaulted onto the White Dragon, flying back toward his own Lục Nhan Palace. Even in his madness, he had the dragon release a cool breeze to keep her from overheating.

[If I weren’t bound by this blood pact, I’d beat this lunatic of a master into the ground,] the White Dragon muttered inwardly.

Clutching her tightly, Lãnh Thiên already plotted to imprison her.

“So eager to marry my brother that you’d smile so sweetly at his gifts?”

When they landed, he carried Mẫn Nguyệt into the palace, pressing her against the wall. His smile was full of possession, even as his fist struck down an ancient tree nearby, shattering it. Blood dripped from his hand like the pain searing his heart at the thought of her belonging to another. He wrapped the wound with a rag, voice hoarse and trembling with rage.

“Whether you want one husband or many, it will only ever be me. You know I can play every role at once, don’t you, my A Nguyệt?”