Humiliation and Ninth Royal Uncle’s Loss of Composure

Serena Feng has never liked putting herself in the position of a weakling, and she despises playing the pitiful damsel in white, begging for sympathy. She doesn’t expect Ninth Royal Uncle to step in and save her either. The moment Dominic Zhai brought her the news, she was already preparing for battle.

The first step in any battle is to overwhelm the enemy with your presence—make them understand that Serena Feng is not afraid. So, without hesitation, she dressed herself in full regalia.

They want to see her embarrassed? She won’t let them get off easily either!

The gown Serena wore was personally prepared by Madam Sun. Its style was similar to what she’d worn before, but far more sumptuous and ornate.

The sleeves were wide, the neckline open but not revealing a hint of skin—generous and dignified. If she added a phoenix crown and struck a regal pose, she could almost pass for an empress.

Her long red skirt was layered upon layer, and with every step she took, the fabric shifted through shades of crimson—some deep as rose, some pale, some dazzling—captivating every eye.

A black belt cinched her waist, embroidered with golden clouds. Except for the skirt and neckline, the gown was simple, without any excess ornamentation. The bold red would look gaudy on most women, but on Serena, it was all elegance and grandeur—as if this dress had been made for her alone.

She wore only a single white-jade hairpin in her bun. Loose strands fell over her shoulder as she walked, red gown and black hair swaying—a vision as striking as startled wild geese taking flight.

Unlike the delicate, fragile women of her time, Serena was tall and lithe, her skin fair, her stride light and powerful. As she approached, she was like a blooming peony, truly a rose in full splendor—vivid, graceful, and impossible to ignore.

A woman like this—truly one of a kind in the world.

That was everyone’s verdict—including the Emperor himself.

From the moment Serena stepped into the hall, every single gaze locked onto her—including Nolan Dongling.

Serena’s lips curled up. She was loving every second of their stunned faces.

After Madam Sun finished dressing her, Serena stared at her own reflection—noble, dignified, elegant. Even she was floored by the transformation.

No doubt about it—she looked stunning.

Serena always thought she looked decent, not drop-dead gorgeous. But under Madam Sun’s magic, she finally saw it—maybe not legendary beauty, but absolutely the kind of aura that could topple a kingdom.

Especially that dress—simple, but it showed off every strength she had. People didn’t notice her face first; they noticed her presence.

What Serena couldn’t figure out was Madam Sun’s almost reverent gaze at the dress. Serena wanted to ask, but held back. The style existed elsewhere, but some details were unique.

Nolan Dongling was classic Nolan. While everyone else was still hypnotized by Serena, he’d already snapped out of it—his eternally cold black eyes now burning with a fury even he didn’t notice.

This woman—she actually showed up looking this good. What was she trying to pull? Didn’t she realize how ridiculously attractive she was?

Worst of all, he wasn’t even the first one to see her like this—not by a long shot. If he didn’t have a shred of self-control left, he’d have dragged her off just to keep her from dazzling everyone else.

Nolan Dongling was furious—so furious he did something that made everyone question their own eyes…

Nolan Dongling suddenly stood up and strode toward Serena. She shot him a mocking smile and paused, ready to greet him.

"Your—" Serena had barely started when Nolan Dongling cut her off, refusing to let her escape. He grabbed her hand—hard enough to hurt. She tried to pull away, but he slid his fingers between hers, locking their hands together. Thank god her sleeves were wide enough to hide it.

Serena’s face changed; she glared at Nolan Dongling, but saw the storm of anger and frustration in his eyes. She was confused for a second, then let out a cold laugh.

Angry? Frustrated? What was he mad about—what right did he have? If anyone had a right to be pissed, it was her. If it weren’t for Nolan Dongling, none of this would be happening.

"Nolan Dongling, you’re hurting me!" Serena’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for everyone in the hall to hear.

Thud…

The crowd had just snapped out of Serena’s spell, only to be stunned again by Nolan Dongling’s move—even the Emperor was caught off guard. His ninth brother was finally acting like a regular guy.

"Mm." Nolan Dongling grunted, but didn’t let go—just loosened his grip a little. Serena was still annoyed, but he gave her no chance to protest, dragging her straight to the center of the hall.

Serena, caught off guard, stumbled a few steps and nearly tripped on her skirt. Her cheeks flushed with anger, her whole body bristling with energy. Just as she was about to scold Nolan Dongling, he shamelessly beat her to it: "Watch your step."

Nolan Dongling, could you be any more shameless?

If it weren’t for the occasion, Serena would’ve yanked her hand away and walked out right now.

Serena shot Nolan Dongling a fierce glare, but he just took it as her being cute. The corners of his mouth lifted in a rare smile: "Stay with me."

Did Nolan Dongling just smile?

The crowd was stunned all over again!

Nolan Dongling wasn’t incapable of smiling, but he had never, ever smiled at a woman before. Serena was the first. Maybe she really was different.

The hall fell silent. Everyone glanced at Prince Damien of Southlyn, then Adrian Zichun, and finally at Crown Prince Adrian Dongling...

Prince Damien’s sly fox eyes glinted with calculation and chill. Adrian Zichun was still dazed from the moment Serena entered, not yet recovered. And Adrian Dongling...

Beneath his carefully composed face, the Crown Prince revealed regret and unwillingness.

For the first time tonight, the Crown Prince smiled genuinely. Adrian Dongling, my brother, I have a feeling you’ll regret this for the rest of your life.

Nolan Dongling led Serena to the center of the hall, signaling her with his eyes to make her formal greeting.

Serena frowned and glanced down at their joined hands, silently asking Nolan Dongling to let go. With their fingers interlaced, how was she supposed to kneel?

Too bad Nolan Dongling had already turned away, refusing to look at her. Serena could only bend slightly: "Serena Feng, commoner, greets Your Majesty. Long live the Emperor." For the first time, she didn’t have to kneel—thanks to Nolan Dongling.

The Emperor was annoyed, but now wasn’t the time to make a scene. He simply said, "You may rise," then turned to whisper with the Empress, deliberately leaving Serena and Nolan Dongling standing there, planning to scold them later and tell them to sit.

Serena was used to this kind of cold treatment. In the past, if the Emperor told her to kneel, she’d kneel quietly; if denied a seat, she’d stand alone, pretending not to notice the humiliation, always smiling in the face of mockery and pity, never letting outsiders see her pain.

Because she never learned how to be weak.

She’d faced far worse humiliation before. Today was nothing. Serena’s mindset was solid; she was ready to stand there quietly until the Emperor finally noticed her.

But she forgot—today, she wasn’t alone. Nolan Dongling was at her side, and now that he’d stepped in, there was no way he’d let her suffer this kind of insult again...