Threats and the Orphan Girl Whose Corpse No One Would Claim

Serena Feng's lips curled in a mocking smile as her gaze met Rowan Dongling's. Cold, distant, and with a barely perceptible hint of disgust.

She really couldn't understand where Rowan got the confidence to think she, Serena Feng, still liked him—thinking that just by beckoning, she'd shamelessly throw herself at him?

Rowan truly thought he was something special. Did he forget their feud? Even if every man on earth died, Serena Feng would never choose him.

Rowan stared at Serena in a daze, unable to find even a trace of the cautious, hidden affection she once had for him.

Rowan clutched his chest with his right hand, a bitter ache spreading inside. He reached out, wanting to grab the hem of Serena's robe. "Serena..."

"Your Highness, please behave." Serena stepped back, widening the gap between them. Looking up, she saw Marcus Wynn and Terrence watching with amused interest.

Serena shot the two men an annoyed glare—gossipy busybodies.

Rowan seemed to realize the situation was wrong and quickly composed himself, offering Serena a graceful, friendly smile as if nothing had happened. "Serena, I wish you victory."

"Thank you, Your Highness." Serena curtsied. As long as appearances were kept, it was enough. Rowan was a prince, after all; embarrassing him in public would only hurt her more than him.

Rowan and Serena each took their seats. Only then did the Crown Prince rise to announce the contest rules. He began by emphasizing the Emperor's concern for Su Wan and Serena's safety, then explained the contest was for friendly exchange between the two nations, not about winning or losing. After a string of official statements, he finally got to the rules for today's martial competition.