Taking a Husband Into Her House, Who Dares Marry You

Just as Serena Feng wished, Evan Wen had barely left when Nolan Eastlyn, the Ninth Royal Uncle, received word that Serena planned to take a husband into her house. Such explosive news—no one dared to keep it secret.

"Take a husband? Serena Feng really dares to think big. No wonder she's General Feng's woman—she came up with such a clever, win-win solution in so little time."

Nolan sat in his study, his back to the light; the subordinate reporting to him couldn't see his expression. But from Nolan's tone, the black-clad man could hear his displeasure and instantly dropped to his knees with a thud.

"Miss Feng said if she doesn't get Feng Manor's land deed within three days, she'll take a husband into the house to inherit the title."

"The Marquis of Loyalty title? I almost forgot about that," Nolan said slowly, his aristocratic drawl tinged with lazy indifference. He acted unconcerned, but those who knew him well recognized this as a sign he was angry.

There were very few people in the world who could truly anger Nolan Eastlyn, and Serena Feng was one of them.

The black-clad man stayed kneeling, motionless. He knew Nolan rarely vented his anger on others, but there was always a chance for exceptions. The study was so quiet it felt suffocating—he wanted nothing more than to run.

Drip, drip... The sound of sweat hitting the floor echoed in the silent study. The black-clad man, desperate to wipe his brow, didn't dare to move. He knelt like a statue, waiting for Nolan to speak.

"Who leaked the news?" Nolan suddenly asked. The black-clad man was startled, then realized what Nolan meant. He recalled Serena's recent actions and reported, "Miss Feng visited the Lu Residence and met Prince Samuel's Heir on the road. I don't know what they discussed."

"Lucan Lu? He doesn't have the guts. Dominic Zhai—looks like the young lord has been too idle lately." Nolan easily settled on a suspect. At this point, it didn't matter who leaked the news; what mattered was that Nolan needed someone to vent his anger on, and Dominic was the perfect target.

Nolan rose to his feet, and an oppressive aura filled the room. The sweat on the black-clad man's forehead poured faster; he cursed inwardly, swearing that next time, he'd never report Serena Feng's news in person.

"Find something for Dominic Zhai to do," Nolan said as he walked past the black-clad man toward the door.

"Yes, sir." The black-clad man respectfully rose and watched Nolan depart.

"Prepare my sedan. I'm leaving the manor," Nolan ordered.

He wanted to see just how much Serena Feng understood, daring to use marriage as leverage against him. Was she tired of living?

His mother was right—if you don't spoil a woman, she gets bold. Serena Feng had become daring enough to negotiate terms with him. He wouldn't have minded pampering her, but to threaten him with marriage?

Hmph... Serena Feng wants to marry? Let's see if anyone dares to take her.

Nolan was always cold and distant, but today he was like a walking block of ice, spreading chill wherever he went.

Even his closest eunuch attendants were too scared to approach, afraid they'd freeze just by being near him. They hurried to prepare his exclusive princely sedan; by the time Nolan reached the door, everything was ready—bearers, guards, nearly a thousand men in all.

This was the full pomp of a prince's outing. Nolan rarely used it, but today he did so deliberately—to make it clear to Serena Feng that in Eastlyn, whether she marries depends on his will.

Stubborn woman. Would it really be so hard to come to Ninth Prince Manor and ask him for help just once?

All he wanted was for Serena Feng to come to Ninth Prince Manor on her own. Did she think he'd eat her alive? The more Nolan thought about it in his sedan, the angrier he became.

That woman would go to others for help, but never to him. Whenever something happened, she’d only think of William Wang Jinling, never him. Fine, she didn’t want to ask him—but to so casually threaten marriage? Was that something you could just say?

The route from the eastern to the western district of the Capital wasn’t short. With Nolan’s grand procession, plenty of people took notice—many even sent their household staff to follow, eager to see where the Ninth Royal Uncle was headed.

Serena Feng got word in advance of Nolan’s personal arrival and led everyone from Feng Manor out to kneel in welcome. There was no choice—he was a prince, and kneeling to greet him was the basic requirement. If he hadn’t arrived so suddenly, she would’ve burned incense and cleaned up the courtyard first.

"So fast. Is this supposed to be a show of force?" Serena knew Nolan was never easy to deal with. She’d only announced that if she didn’t get the Feng Manor deed in three days, she’d take a husband—and by afternoon, Nolan was already here.

Before, she’d only suspected Nolan was behind the Feng Manor deed issue. Now it was clear: the whole thing was his doing.

Kneeling outside, Serena watched as guards on tall horses cleared the way, followed by a squad of armed men. In the center was a grand official sedan carried by eight burly bearers. Wherever they passed, the commoners all knelt.

Resigned, Serena bowed her head. When the eunuch chanted the formal greeting, she prostrated herself: "Long live the Prince, may you live a thousand years."

Serena never heard the words "rise." All she noticed was a sweep of black robes pausing before her, then moving on, followed by the heavy footsteps as Nolan's guards filled her small western-district courtyard.

Only after everyone from Ninth Prince Manor had entered did Serena and her people finally get to stand. "That was one ruthless show of force," she muttered.

Serena shook her head. Nolan had visited Feng Manor several times before, always discreetly. For him to arrive so ostentatiously at her tiny rented courtyard—was this really just to intimidate her? Maybe he was worried about being impeached by the censors, so he traveled openly to avoid giving them any ammunition.

Serena smiled. If she remembered right, just three streets from this courtyard was the famous Censor Street, home to many Lord Censors. She wondered if any of them still dared to write reports; probably not—they’d lost their nerve. Nolan's methods were truly ruthless.

Serena knew perfectly well: the first Lord Censor to impeach Nolan was, within three days, himself impeached for raping his daughter-in-law—with ironclad evidence and witnesses.

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Cough, cough—caught in the act. Was it a coincidence? It was so 'coincidental' that Serena felt a chill all over; Nolan’s methods of revenge were truly terrifying.

Serena shook her head and strolled slowly toward the main hall. Since she’d made the opening move, there was no reason to retreat. Nolan’s quick arrival proved how much he cared about her marriage threat; this was her leverage, and she intended to use it well—Nolan was bound to lose.

Until now, Nolan had always used her feelings. Now the tables had turned, and Serena didn’t feel guilty in the least—he deserved it.

"Greetings, Ninth Royal Uncle. Long life, long life, may you live for a thousand years." Serena entered and knelt as etiquette demanded. She was no longer the Serena who wore her dissatisfaction on her sleeve; with her head bowed, no one could see her expression.

In truth, she felt no dissatisfaction at all. She was in a great mood today; just thinking about getting the Feng Manor deed made her feel that kneeling was worth it.

The angrier Nolan became, the happier Serena felt.

Nolan didn’t look at Serena. He waved his hand at those nearby: "Leave us."

"Yes, sir." In an instant, the crowded hall emptied, leaving only Nolan, Serena, and her two maids, Jada Tang and Mira Tang.

"You two, leave as well." Nolan ordered coldly, his voice brooking no refusal. Jada and Mira considered themselves worldly, but even they were frightened.

"Miss?" the two maids whispered, seeking Serena's approval. They belonged to her and would never leave unless she said so—even if it meant death.

"Go on." Serena wasn’t worried; she was certain Nolan wouldn’t harm her. For all his bluster, if he really meant her harm, he wouldn’t do it so openly.

"Yes, miss." Jada and Mira obediently withdrew. Once everyone was gone, Nolan finally spoke, unhurried: "You may rise."

"Thank you, Ninth Royal Uncle." Serena stood before him, head bowed, looking as meek and obedient as could be—though, to anyone who knew her, it was clearly an act.

Nolan’s face betrayed nothing, but inside he was simmering. He’d meant to tell Serena to sit, but instead said, "So, I hear you plan to take a husband?"

"Yes."

"Which young master have you chosen? I'll go kill him."

"I'm just starting to look. If there’s no suitable candidate in the Capital, I’ll look outside." Serena spoke openly, without the usual shyness of women discussing marriage, as if it wasn’t her own marriage at all.

"Big plans." Nolan’s words sounded like praise but were really sarcastic. Serena pretended not to notice, half-mocking, half-aggrieved: "Without parents to arrange things, I have to work harder myself. Ninth Royal Uncle should understand."

What she wanted to say was, we're both orphans, so why make things harder for her? If Nolan hadn’t acted, she wouldn’t have had to come up with this plan.

"Understand? What should I understand? Serena Feng, you'd better put away those unrealistic ideas. Without my permission, you're not allowed to marry!" Nolan knew he'd started this, but admitting fault was out of the question.

It’s so easy to solve—if Serena would just come to Ninth Prince Manor and ask him, he couldn’t possibly refuse. But this woman would ask anyone else, just not him, not even think of him.

The bureaucracy, the bureaucracy—in Eastlyn, besides the Emperor, who else can change its decisions? Of course, him. But Serena just couldn’t see it, which infuriated Nolan.

This woman never thought of him, no matter what happened.

Nolan didn’t know—Serena could bow her head and ask for help, but unless she had no other choice, she’d never ask the man she liked. To beg for favors in front of someone she truly cared about would make her feel she could never lift her head again.

"Marriage is my own affair. Ninth Royal Uncle is neither my father nor my elder brother; he has no right to interfere with whether I marry." Serena didn’t back down—whoever retreated now would lose...