Sudden Upheaval, Serena Feng Is Slapped

Even lower than a shrew, yet still begging for marriage—truly pathetic.

Pfft...

A young official below just couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing on the spot—only to nearly wet himself in terror a second later.

Ninth Royal Uncle, the Crown Prince, Prince Chase, Prince Rowan, and Prince Damien of Southlyn all glared at him at once. Damien even sneered unceremoniously, “Shut up.”

“Your servant, your servant…” The young official’s face went ghostly pale, instinctively dropping to his knees to beg for mercy. But as soon as he stood up, a burly eunuch yanked him back down—and the Emperor didn’t object.

Everyone thought that interruption would end the spat between Serena Feng and Prince Damien, but Damien—true to his petty nature—refused to let Serena off. He turned to face her, standing tall and sneering with contempt: “Marry you? Serena Feng, what do you think you are? I was just making casual conversation—did you really take it seriously? A woman like you, worth marrying? You’re nothing but a plaything.”

A plaything? Your whole family are playthings.

Serena Feng’s eyes blazed with fury—she was clearly angry now. Ninth Royal Uncle, whose brows had just relaxed, frowned again, half-closing his eyes to hide his worry.

Some battles, you have to fight yourself!

He also wanted to see how far Serena Feng could go—just hoping she wouldn’t lose her head from Damien’s taunts. Damien was clearly trying to provoke her into a mistake, so he’d have an excuse to openly attack or kill her.

She didn’t let Ninth Royal Uncle down. In just a single breath, Serena Feng regained her composure and burst out laughing, bold and wild: “Is the Third Prince talking about himself? Compared to me, Third Prince’s looks are much more suited for being a plaything.”

That line cut straight to the heart!

“How dare you insult me?” Prince Damien’s eyes went blood-red. His uninjured left hand clenched into a fist, knuckles cracking menacingly—he looked like a wild beast about to snap.

The Emperor disliked Damien’s arrogance, but he had no intention of intervening. After all, Eastlyn’s reputation had suffered because of Serena Feng—this was her mess to clean up.

By letting things play out, the Emperor was actually giving Serena Feng his best support. Serena understood this perfectly, so she had no fear of Damien. Faced with his rage, she replied calmly, “Third Prince, you exaggerate. Who in this world would dare treat you as a plaything? There’s no need to take it so seriously.”

Take it seriously, and you lose.

“No need to take it seriously? Well, today I’m going to take it seriously. Serena Feng, do you know the penalty for insulting the royal family?” Damien didn’t wait for her answer: “Serena Feng, defaming the royal house means your clan will be wiped out, and the main culprit will be torn apart by five horses. Tell me, with a body as beautiful as yours, what would you look like after being ripped into five bloody pieces?”

A naked threat, but Serena Feng wasn’t raised to be scared: “Too bad. I’m a citizen of Eastlyn, not Southlyn. Third Prince, you have no authority to punish me.”

“Really? You insulted the Southlyn royal family in public—do you think Eastlyn will protect you?” Damien wasn’t threatening, just stating facts. Eastlyn wouldn’t go to war with Southlyn for Serena Feng; if killing her brought benefits, the Emperor would gladly offer up her corpse.

“Third Prince, you insulted Eastlyn noblewomen in public—do you think being a prince means Eastlyn won’t hold you accountable?” Damien started it by insulting Eastlyn first; if there was fault, it was six of one and half a dozen of the other. Besides, the Emperor was a man who cared about his pride.

“Insult Eastlyn noblewomen? When did I insult you? Everything I said is true. You lost your virginity before marriage and didn’t even try to defend your honor. As a noblewoman, you act just like a common streetwalker—entangled with several men, and even riding on the same horse as your former fiancé’s uncle, all sorts of ambiguity. You’re a woman any man can have—how is that an insult?”

As Damien spoke, everyone’s faces changed—but they couldn’t refute him, because in their eyes, he hadn’t said anything wrong.

Ninth Royal Uncle felt a bitter, bloody taste spreading in his mouth—he was so furious he could have coughed up blood.

Ugly words—extremely ugly words. If it weren’t for the occasion, Serena Feng would almost want to laugh.

Ninth Royal Uncle, who would’ve thought you’d see this day? All these years, everyone only called me, Serena Feng, shameless—never dared to say a word against you. Every mistake was always pinned on me alone. But today, someone finally dragged you into it.

Hahaha... The uncle of my former fiancé. Too bad Damien’s too wary of you to mention your name—otherwise, this would be even more entertaining.

Serena Feng lowered her head, hiding her schadenfreude. Did those words hurt? Of course. But after hearing it so many times, she was numb. She’d heard far worse. People have mouths—they’ll say what they want. Is it worth explaining to every single one of them? What’s the point?

“What’s wrong? Got nothing to say?” Damien saw Serena Feng fall silent and assumed she was too ashamed to speak, a victorious smile spreading across his face.

Seeing the moment was ripe, Damien was about to push the Eastlyn Emperor to kill Serena Feng and restore the honor of Eastlyn’s women—when he was met with Serena’s utterly unashamed smile, tinged with just a hint of embarrassment and pain.

“Nothing to say? Third Prince, whose joke is this supposed to be? I, Serena Feng, walk upright and sit straight—why should I have nothing to say?”

The smile on Damien’s face froze instantly.

What a strong woman.

Those who understood her—like the Crown Prince and Prince Chase—couldn’t help but sigh in admiration, feeling a pang of heartache for her.

What a shameless woman!

Those who couldn’t appreciate her—like Prince Locke—felt that having Serena Feng as his former fiancée was the greatest shame.

“Walk upright, sit straight? Why don’t you tell us how you manage that?” Damien sneered, his tone mocking, secretly cursing himself for missing his best chance.

He wanted to kill Serena Feng in broad daylight, to make sure even Ninth Royal Uncle couldn’t plead for her. But Serena Feng was far too cunning—any other woman accused like this would have already run into a wall and killed herself.

Serena Feng was never weak or timid. On the contrary, she was proud to the bone—usually suppressed, but today, with enemies at her door, hiding would be suicide.

Serena Feng slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again, her gaze fierce and unyielding, voice cold as winter ice.

“Third Prince, you’re a prince, yet you listen to rumors and accuse me, Serena Feng, of being a woman any man can have, without a shred of evidence. Is this how the Southlyn royal family conducts itself?”

Prince Damien, I don’t know what gives you the right to call me a woman any man can have. But I can tell you this for sure—you’re the kind of man any woman can have, a husband to thousands, ridden and slept on by all. What right do you have to judge me?

Smack!

No one expected Prince Damien of Southlyn to lash out like this. Even Ninth Royal Uncle was a beat slow, murderous intent flaring as he shot to his feet—only to see Serena whip around and slap Prince Damien right back.

Smack!

No one knew how much force Serena used, but everyone heard her slap ring out just as loud as Prince Damien’s.

Oh my god!

Not just the officials—even the Emperor himself was stunned. No one could believe Serena Feng actually dared to slap a Southlyn prince in front of everyone…

It’s over, it’s over—this is a disaster!