Damien Gray lowered his eyes to meet her smiling gaze. The strength in his hand slowly eased, and Morgan Shangguan, with a playful curl of her lips, easily slipped free from his grip and drifted away.
Damien watched her leave, stunned, a dark line crossing his face. Was this some kind of beauty trap? Still, her words had lightened his mood a bit, though anyone who interrupted his good moment would naturally not be met with a pleasant expression.
Maxwell Jing sighed inwardly. Why did he always seem so unlucky?
Damien no longer let Maxwell Jing follow Morgan Shangguan. Since Morgan had said so, he had nothing to worry about.
Morgan Shangguan walked into the small courtyard and saw Liam Duanmu sitting alone by the stone table, drinking. “Alliance Leader, were you looking for me?” she asked as she approached him.
Liam Duanmu looked up at her, his gaze distant. Only when Morgan sat down at the table did he return to himself, noticing the faint marks on her neck. He stared for a moment, then glanced away, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing serious. Since entering the Ghost King's Manor, I’ve lost contact with the outside world. I just wanted to step out for a bit.”
His smile seemed tinged with bitterness, but Morgan didn’t care to dwell on it. She replied coolly, “Since you’ve chosen to take part in this struggle for the throne, you should know there’s a lot you can’t control. The Ghost King's Manor isn’t so easy to leave once you’ve entered.” Did he really expect her, the ‘traitor,’ to help him? Wasn’t he afraid Damien would suspect her? Knowing Damien, if he had any doubts, he’d deal with both of them at once. The terror of the Ghostmaster was no mere rumor!
Though her identity had completely changed, and Damien would surely listen to her, letting Liam Duanmu freely come and go would only bring trouble. This upcoming national ritual was bound to be anything but peaceful, and she didn’t want anyone else to bring danger to Damien.
She was simply stating a fact, but to Liam Duanmu it sounded like a helpless sigh. Guilt gnawed at him, because he couldn’t just take her away from this place of trouble.
The Ghost King's Manor truly was easy to enter but hard to leave. Now he understood this all too well, and finally believed Damien Gray was anything but simple. He could leave if he wanted, but to do so without being discovered was impossible.
Morgan Shangguan raised her brows and said, "Master Liam, I do not wish Prince Damien to misunderstand there is anything ambiguous between us." Her words were direct, expressing the truth in her heart. Though that sly, fox-like playfulness in him was quite endearing, some things could not be taken too far—she knew how to keep her distance.
She was only amused by the prospect of Ghostmaster's anger; anyone else would have been terrified and weak in the knees.
Liam Duanmu’s grip on his wine cup tightened. In a low voice, he said, “Forgive me, I cannot help you. Instead, I only add to your troubles.” She was the only woman who ever stirred his heart, but now she stood on a perilous edge, as if walking on thin ice, and he could do nothing to save her. Yet here she was, making such a willful request—if Prince Damien truly misunderstood them, he couldn’t imagine what would happen.
Suddenly, he felt utterly useless. What kind of Master Liam was he—what sort of young hero—if he couldn’t even save the woman he loved?
Morgan Shangguan rose to her feet, her voice cool and gentle. "In the end, whatever you flee from, you must face it eventually." With those words, she turned and walked away.
To her, even friendship with Liam Duanmu was out of reach. Whether in the martial world or the royal court, they stood on opposite sides—hardly suited for deeper ties. Besides, Liam held complicated feelings for her, so distance was best. She disliked ambiguous entanglements; not only did they hurt others, but they also troubled herself. Why bother?
She had always been clear about what she wanted. No matter how complicated things became, she would never allow herself to waver because of anyone else. Unless Damien Gray betrayed her, she would never let go of him—no matter what happened.
People like them could never truly connect with anyone else. Even if circumstances forced them together, the outcome would rarely be good—not because the other wasn't steadfast, but because hesitation and uncertainty would inevitably cause pain.
Morgan Shangguan was rational to a fault. Neither Liam Duanmu's caution nor his romantic overtures could move her heart. Even the faintest stirrings would be snuffed out before they could blossom—because she always saw the ending before the beginning.
Liam Duanmu saw the calm in her eyes and felt a bitter ache in his heart. Her words weren’t concern for him, but a simple statement of fact. He laughed at himself—what right did he have to ask for her care? Still, he couldn’t help but hope. With a soft voice, he pleaded, "Then will you sit with me for a while?" There was longing and quiet supplication in his tone.
Morgan Shangguan shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "Master Liam, I can't give you what you want. It's better not to add to the confusion."
Liam Duanmu lowered his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. "I understand. Thank you for your honesty."
Morgan turned and walked away, her silhouette calm and resolute. Liam Duanmu watched her leave, a sense of loss settling in his heart.
He knew, from this moment on, their paths would diverge even further. Some feelings, once spoken, only made the distance grow.
Morgan Shangguan never looked back. In her world, there was no room for ambiguity or regret.
She walked forward, her heart steady, her resolve unshaken. The past was behind her, and she would not let it trouble her any longer.