This Tactic Hurts Even When You Know It Is Fake

"It hurts, Ninth Royal Uncle, be gentler!"

Everyone knows exactly what those words mean—no man could mistake them. And if that wasn’t enough, the next low, coaxing voice confirms your suspicions.

"Don’t move. I’ll be gentle."

There’s only one woman in the world who can make Ninth Royal Uncle speak so gently—proof enough that she’s anything but ordinary in his heart.

Outside the tent, William Wang Jinling’s smile froze. He sat there, body rigid, before finally coming back to himself. After a long moment, his lips curved in a faint, almost mocking smile—part self-mockery, part bitterness.

He gave the tent a long, searching look, then, as if nothing had happened, turned his wheelchair and rolled away, just as quietly as he’d come.

Ninth Royal Uncle, using tricks on me—don’t you think that’s a bit childish? Do you really believe I’m that easy to fool?

But... even knowing it’s all a show, why does my chest still ache? Is Ninth Royal Uncle really the only one who can make Serena set aside her pride? Why can’t I?

William tilted his head up at the dim sky, pressing his right hand to his chest, quietly listening to the steady beat of his heart, trying to calm the sour ache inside.

Some things need to change. The power of the clan belongs to the clan; only what’s truly mine belongs to me. From today on, I’ll stop being the Warren Grand Heir—I’ll be Lord Jinling, unique and independent.

Felix Fuller stepped out of the tent and saw William Wang Jinling lost in thought. Puzzled, he walked over and stood beside William, mimicking him by looking up at the sky.

"Is there something up there?" It wasn’t nighttime, so there were no stars to read omens from.

"Nothing at all." William had noticed Felix coming over the moment he approached, but pretended not to.

Felix Fuller had a strange sort of aura—he never drew attention, but he never faded into the crowd either.

"If there’s nothing, what are you looking at?" Felix was speaking to William, but his eyes drifted toward Serena’s tent.

Honestly, he was quite interested in that Ninth Royal Uncle from Eastlyn, the one ranked ninth.

"I’m looking at its emptiness, its clarity, its vastness." William wasn’t one to share his feelings easily—not with Felix, whom Serena had only just met, and not even with Serena herself unless she asked.

"I don’t get it." This kind of heart-calming insight wasn’t something you could grasp without the right mindset. Felix hadn’t spent much time with William, but he understood that this man was far more dangerous than he looked.

The men around Serena were all difficult in their own ways—truth be told, that was the most honest thing about them.

"Not understanding is a blessing. If you’re free, Felix, why not take a walk with me?" William subtly blocked Felix from seeking out Serena.

Felix raised an eyebrow in surprise, glanced thoughtfully at Serena’s tent, then wheeled William away toward the distance.

A gentleman cultivates himself in quiet, tempers virtue with restraint; only in detachment can one see true ambition, only in calm can one reach far. After more than twenty years of this, the gentleman’s spirit is etched into William’s bones—no matter how much he hurts, no matter how humiliated, he never lets it show.

If Felix was hoping for drama, he was bound to be disappointed.

Ninth Royal Uncle, look at me—see how well I behave!

He would never let outsiders see what shouldn’t be seen; he would never let Serena’s reputation suffer even a little more.

A bitter smile tugged at William’s lips, the taste of it sinking all the way to his heart.

But William wasn’t the only one feeling bitter. When Storm Cloud Bu arrived at Taroko Grand Canyon—battered and rushing to earn merit—he found that Ninth Royal Uncle had already led the troops to wipe out the bandits, and had beaten him to it.

Storm Cloud Bu was so frustrated he could’ve died. His credit, his chance to redeem himself—gone. But he didn’t dare say a word against Ninth Royal Uncle; after all, he’d simply arrived too late.

That night, Storm Cloud Bu received new orders from Lance Quinn: immediately head to Skyvault Palace Sect, investigate the Sect Master, Madam, and Sienna Skyvault, and plant watchers to report any movement.

Skyvault Palace Sect was an old powerhouse in the jianghu. Even with Storm Cloud Bu’s rapid rise, it was nearly impossible to plant any useful spies inside.

After years of effort, Storm Cloud Bu had only managed to slip a few peripheral disciples into Skyvault Palace Sect. Investigating its secrets was nearly impossible, but he didn’t dare complain—he left immediately, heading to Skyvault Palace in person.

He had to redeem himself. He finally understood Lance Quinn now: Quinn was pure emperor—his favorite thing was to vent his anger on others.

If he messed up, Lance Quinn would always take it out on Bao’er. For Bao’er’s sake, he had to get this right!

......

Serena didn’t know about William and Felix’s conversation outside, but that didn’t mean Ninth Royal Uncle didn’t know. Even if he hadn’t heard at the time, he’d find out later—and when he did, he just laughed.

William really was a gentleman—which meant he was destined to lose.

Empire and beauty are never won with a gentleman’s touch. Gentlemen are too mild; William is a gentleman—worthy of respect, but only fit to be a minister.

No emperor is ever taught to be a gentleman—only to keep gentlemen close. Keeping them close doesn’t mean becoming one.

Ninth Royal Uncle fully unleashed his non-gentlemanly side, guarding Serena fiercely. They camped outside the city for three days, and William never saw Serena once—he only heard she’d suffered a minor injury and was now fine.

And when it was finally time to return to the city, Ninth Royal Uncle simply packed Serena into his own carriage. The two of them stayed inside the whole way, rarely getting out—William could only watch her from a distance, as if she were a world away.

For over half a month, William could only catch the occasional glimpse of Serena—just enough to confirm she was fine. He never had a chance to speak to her, and every time he saw her, Ninth Royal Uncle was always right there at her side.

Watching Ninth Royal Uncle’s behavior, and Serena’s unusual compliance, William gradually realized it must be connected to the fact that Serena had come alone to rescue him.

At first, William wasn’t worried—he thought Ninth Royal Uncle was just sulking, trying to make him uncomfortable for a while. But as time dragged on, even his good temper couldn’t hold out.

Ninth Royal Uncle was being way too much.

Ninth Royal Uncle could easily have sent him home early, or notified the Warren clan to pick him up. Instead, he insisted William travel with them, showing off his closeness with Serena every day.

William knew perfectly well this was all a scheme—a calculated move by Ninth Royal Uncle to provoke him. But even knowing it was a trick, he still couldn’t just shrug it off.

Ninth Royal Uncle’s tactics weren’t exactly subtle, but they worked—especially on him. He’d just been happy that Serena had risked everything to save him, and now Ninth Royal Uncle hit him with a bucket of cold water.

He’d made Ninth Royal Uncle uncomfortable for half a month; now Ninth Royal Uncle was likely to keep him uncomfortable for half a year, maybe longer.

Faced with these almost childish tactics, William could only sigh—Ninth Royal Uncle was just so petty. But there was nothing he could do; he still needed Ninth Royal Uncle to get him back to the city.

William wasn’t happy about it, but neither was Serena. Her injuries weren’t so bad that she couldn’t walk, yet Ninth Royal Uncle treated her like she was crippled—carrying her on and off the carriage as if she were on the verge of death.

But every time she protested, Ninth Royal Uncle always found a way to make her give in.

He never brought up the canyon or her leaving without telling him. Instead, he quietly tended her wounds, blaming himself: "If this scar stays, it’s all my fault. I failed to protect you."

Whenever he mentioned it, Serena would fall silent and obediently let him take care of her.

She knew perfectly well the scar was inevitable. It was her fault, yet Ninth Royal Uncle took all the blame, feeling guilty every time he saw her wounds.

What’s more, Ninth Royal Uncle truly kept his promise: after that day when he said he trusted and forgave her, he never mentioned her rescue of William or the canyon incident again. Even when she tried to bring it up, he just focused on finding medicine, determined not to let her scar.

Ten days ago, his men raced to the capital to fetch Snow Lotus Balm, but Serena’s injury had dragged on too long—even the Valley of Miraculous Medicine’s priceless balm couldn’t help.

Ninth Royal Uncle wrote to the Master of the Valley of Miraculous Medicine, asking for even better remedies—no matter the cost, he was determined to erase Serena’s scar.

Serena watched as Ninth Royal Uncle pulled every string for her sake, and quietly endured it all—she couldn’t say a word, nor did she know what to say.

As a woman, of course she didn’t want a centipede-like scar on her body; and as a woman, she couldn’t refuse Ninth Royal Uncle’s kindness...

At times like this, she allowed herself to be weak—to dream, just for a moment, of being a carefree woman with no worries, even if only for a day.

Ninth Royal Uncle didn’t let Serena down—he gave her a beautiful journey. She’d raced from the capital to Taroko Grand Canyon in less than ten days, but now, after half a month, they hadn’t even covered half the distance back.

Ninth Royal Uncle used William as an excuse, claiming the young lord was too injured to travel fast. Everyone knew the real reason.

The army moved on. William sat quietly in his carriage, his dark eyes deep and unreadable, lost in thought...

Serena sprawled across Ninth Royal Uncle’s lap, eating rare grapes—the season’s delicacy!

What made them so special was that Ninth Royal Uncle himself peeled them, feeding Serena one by one. All she had to do was open her mouth.

"Pfft..." Serena spat the seeds into a small dish, shook her head at Ninth Royal Uncle to say she’d had enough, then lazily crawled off his lap and flopped onto the small couch.

After half a month of being spoiled by Ninth Royal Uncle, she’d grown lazier than ever.

Ninth Royal Uncle didn’t mind. He clapped his hands—servants silently cleared everything away and brought a golden basin for him to wash up, then slipped out without a sound.

After washing, Ninth Royal Uncle took a snow-white towel and elegantly wiped his fingers. He glanced at Serena, lounging like a cat on the couch, and nodded in satisfaction.

All his careful planning had paid off—he’d finally managed to keep Serena obediently in the carriage.

William, you made me uncomfortable—so I won’t let you have it easy either...

But just as Ninth Royal Uncle was enjoying his success, everything changed when he received a letter from the Master of the Valley of Miraculous Medicine!