Courting Disaster and Lance Quinn’s Worries

There’s no way the zither itself has any flaws—otherwise, the Crown Prince would never have offered it to the Emperor. But now that it’s in Serena Feng’s hands, everything changes. The moment Lance Quinn saw the Ice-String Zither, he caught the scent of conspiracy.

"Serena, I don’t know if there’s anything wrong with this zither, but I’m certain the Empress had a deeper motive for giving it to you. If you’re not careful, you’ll be used as a pawn." If trouble breaks out, the Crown Prince will be ruined—and Serena Feng won’t escape unscathed either.

Serena nodded in agreement. "I get it. The Empress wouldn’t hand me the Crown Prince’s tribute zither for no reason. Is she planning to pin the blame on him if I lose the contest?" She paused, then shook her head. "No, it can’t be that simple."

"The Empress went to great lengths to get this zither into your hands—there’s no way it’s just about shirking responsibility." Lance Quinn scrutinized the instrument, turning the Ice-String Zither over dozens of times, but found nothing outwardly wrong with it.

"The zither seems fine, but the more flawless it appears, the greater the hidden danger. Serena, the Empress is making her move against the Crown Prince. She’s tolerated him for years and probably won’t stand for it any longer. She wants to push Adrian Dongling off the throne for her own son. Once she acts, the Crown Prince won’t have a chance to recover."

"This zither... If you trust me, hand it over. I’ll find someone to inspect it. Don’t worry—whatever the outcome, I’ll return it to you intact by tomorrow night." This wasn’t just Serena’s problem. If the Empress was targeting the Crown Prince and Serena got dragged down too, Lance Quinn couldn’t let her scheme succeed.

"Alright." If she couldn’t trust Lance Quinn, who could she trust? He was the one who’d saved her life.

Time was short. Lance Quinn grabbed the zither and left, reminding Serena again and again to be careful and to check every item the Empress had gifted her.

"Don’t worry, I will." Truthfully, Serena Feng would have done so even without Lance Quinn’s reminder.

Lance Quinn stepped outside, then glanced back at Serena Feng. Seeing how thin and fragile she looked, he decided to ask Vincent Su to return Serena’s hidden weapon—the Glock 19 pistol.

All the mechanism and weapon craftsmen worked under Vincent Su. Lance Quinn brought the zither to the Su Clan’s secret chamber, handed the Ice-String Zither to Vincent, and asked him to have the craftsmen inspect it thoroughly. If they couldn’t find anything wrong, he wanted to know if they could make a perfect replica in a day.

He didn’t trust Serena Feng to use this zither in the contest.

"I’ll do my best to have my people find the problem. But as for making a copy, that’s impossible—the Ice-String Zither’s strings are made from ice-silkworm silk. The Crown Prince only ever found a single piece, just enough for this one zither. There will never be another like it." The Ice-String Zither was truly one of a kind—any expert could recognize it instantly.

"Alright, let’s leave it at that." Lance Quinn didn’t press further. All he wanted now was for Vincent’s craftsmen to uncover the zither’s hidden danger.

"I’ll take it over right away." Vincent Su left with the zither, but Lance Quinn suddenly called out, "Vincent, remember to bring Serena’s hidden weapon."

"You’re giving it back to her?" Vincent paused, turning to ask.

"Yes. Last night she nearly died on the road." With that weapon in hand, Serena Feng should be safer. A Serena who could defend herself was far more reassuring.

Lance Quinn never explained himself when he acted—this was a first. Vincent Su gave Lance a long, meaningful look, then lowered his gaze to the Ice-String Zither and nodded heavily. "Alright."

Lance Quinn pretended not to notice the meaning in Vincent’s eyes. He sat quietly on the stone bench, waiting for Vincent to return.

Storm Cloud Bu sat across from Lance Quinn, hesitating for a long time before finally mustering the courage to speak. "N-Ninth Uncle, you’re not busy right now, are you?"

'Do you need something?' Lance Quinn lifted his eyelids, his gaze cold.

'Um, uh... Bella, she...' Storm Cloud Bu got nervous and forgot his original words.

'What about Bella? Is she sick? If she’s sick, go find a doctor.' Lance Quinn sounded all business.

Storm Cloud Bu had felt guilty, but seeing Lance Quinn like this, he lost his temper: 'Lance Quinn, how can you be like this? Bella is your fiancée and you don’t care about her at all!'

'Care about her? How should I care for her? Isn’t Bella fine? I haven’t let her go hungry or cold, and she doesn’t have to worry about making a living or the affairs of the world. Isn’t that caring?' Lance Quinn replied calmly.

'You haven’t let Bella go hungry, but besides food and clothing, shouldn’t you care about her feelings? She’s been here so long, and you haven’t visited her. As her fiancé, do you think you’re qualified? Lance, Bella is a person, not a pet. She needs company and care.' The main thing, Bella needs you—but Storm Cloud Bu didn’t say that part.

'Storm, as Bella’s fiancé, I’ve made sure she’s well-fed and lives in luxury. I think I’ve done my duty. Don’t forget, she’s my fiancée, not my wife. By custom, it’s normal not to see her before marriage.' Even wives don’t have the right to demand their husbands’ company.

Can the Empress demand the Emperor’s company and care?

Anyone who marries into the imperial family should be prepared to spend lonely nights. If you don’t want that, you need power and skill to stand by the Emperor’s side.

Obviously, Bella doesn’t have that.

'But... but... Bella is different.' Lance Quinn’s argument made sense, and as her fiancé he’d done enough—Storm Cloud Bu was at a loss and could only offer this weak reason.

'Different? How is she different?' Lance Quinn sneered.

No matter how different, she’s just a woman.

'Bella’s health is poor, she can’t take stress. For her health, you should spend time with her and go easy on her.' People always sympathize with the weak—compared to Serena Feng, Bella Qin is clearly more delicate. Storm Cloud Bu felt it was reasonable to ask Lance Quinn to spend more time with Bella.

'So just because she’s frail, I should cater to her? Storm, don’t forget my identity and our mission. Do you think I have time for her?'

'You say I haven’t done what a fiancé should—has Bella done what she should as my fiancée? Can she handle intrigue and danger? Can she survive a life on the edge? Can she face danger alone?'

No, not even basic independence. 'Storm, I’m Lance Quinn, not some idle playboy. I don’t have time to indulge Bella’s moods.' Their worlds are completely different—he doesn’t know how to relate to Bella.

Storm Cloud Bu was speechless. Lance Quinn’s forceful attitude left Storm feeling weaker and weaker, until he could only mutter: 'I’m not asking you to see her every day, just visit Bella once in a while. She misses you.'

Lance Quinn sneered, 'Storm, you know Bella better than I do. If I visit her once, there’ll be a second and third time. She’ll keep demanding more, and if I can’t meet her needs, I’m accused of not caring. You know how little free time I have—can that satisfy Bella?'