Forced to Love (GL) - Chapter 40

The hunt was halfway through. On the third day, Lingxi informed Zhao Cong that she planned to ride back to the capital at full speed to meet Li Cai.

Before she departed, Zhao Qingsui accompanied her to the edge of the camp, adjusting her collar. The soft porcupine armor underneath clung tightly to her.

“Do you really not need the soft porcupine armor?”

Even though Zhao Qingsui would remain by Zhao Cong’s side, ensuring her safety, Lingxi still felt a lingering worry.

It was like having a most precious treasure—if you couldn’t see or touch it yourself, unease would naturally arise.

Her fingers brushed past Lingxi’s straight collar and then slid over her neck. Feeling the coldness of her fingertips, Lingxi raised a hand to clasp hers, placing it in her palm.

Zhao Qingsui smiled at her, ripples of warmth spreading in her eyes. “This is the third time you’ve asked. Don’t worry, no one dares to lay a hand near Father Emperor.”

She paused for a moment before adding, “On the other hand, while capturing all of them is important, you must not neglect your own safety.”

Lingxi let the warmth in her palm seep into Zhao Qingsui’s hand, her voice soft yet firm. “Alright. Then you can rest assured too. Wait for my good news.”

“Alright.”

Lingxi took the hand warmer from Su Rui and placed it in Zhao Qingsui’s hands. Then she turned, mounted her horse, met Zhao Qingsui’s gaze steadily for a moment, nodded, and rode away.

In the capital, Li Cai was already waiting for her. The Prime Minister had invited all his aides to his residence, and not a single one was absent.

The Prime Minister’s manor bustled with activity, but beyond its high walls, a trap had already been set.

Lingxi and Li Cai split up. Lingxi was responsible for the raid on the Prime Minister’s residence, while Li Cai handled the informants within the theater troupe and a short, stout man in charge of the Long Spear Workshop under the Bureau of Works.

To ensure success, Zhao Qingsui even assigned two teams from the Imperial Guards to assist them. Meanwhile, the remaining forces, led by Commander Gao, were dispatched to raid the weapon forging site outside the city.

The operation unfolded the moment the man with the white fan stepped into the Prime Minister’s residence. From the outskirts inward, from afar to near, the prey walked into the trap. Lingxi sent a message, and Commander Gao, who had been lying in wait near the forging site, sprang into action. Immediately after, forces moved against the inconspicuous theater troupe hiding in the city and the short, stout man in the Long Spear Workshop.

Lingxi had agreed with the Prime Minister to use the sound of a shattered teacup as a signal. The moment the crisp sound rang through the manor, soldiers stationed outside stormed in with weapons drawn.

The teacup shattered on the ground. The Prime Minister’s face was complex. Seeing Lingxi enter, he staggered slightly before sitting back down in his seat.

Lingxi scanned the crowd, and in the next moment, her subordinates dragged the man with the white fan forward.

“My Lord, we have caught the prey.”

“Hmm.”

Lingxi lowered her gaze to him. The white fan at his waist was unmistakable.

“So it really is you, Bai Gao? Illegally forging weapons and conspiring with rebels?”

The Prime Minister slammed the table in fury, his voice sharp with anger.

The man’s expression darkened, then he suddenly burst into laughter. “Conspiring? I have always been loyal to Prince Chen.”

“Becoming your aide and getting close to you was merely to use your title as Prime Minister to move freely in the capital.”

He paused, then looked at Lingxi. “That night, I thought I could kill the princess outside the city. What a shame! The men I raised were all useless!”

Lingxi’s gaze turned icy as the memory of Zhao Qingsui being surrounded at the inn surged back into her mind. A cold glint flashed in her eyes. “They were useless? Then what does that make you?”

“Assassins fight to the death without retreating, yet you kneel here and prattle?”

“A worthless man like you dared to attempt an assassination on the princess?”

Lingxi looked down at him, sneering as a killing intent grew in her heart.

“Or perhaps your so-called Prince Chen was just as useless? No wonder he was completely wiped out.”

The man’s face twisted in rage, his eyes burning with fury. “Scoundrel! If not for your superior numbers today, I wouldn’t have ended up like this! If you truly have courage, then fight me to the death!”

“Fine, bring a sword!”

“My Lord, you mustn’t!”

A voice rang from behind, quickly drowning out Lingxi’s words. A shadow guard suddenly appeared, his hood pulled low as he whispered at her side, “Your Highness has ordered that the prey has been captured. You must not take unnecessary risks.”

Lingxi’s gaze flickered, but the memories in her mind clouded her vision. She frowned slightly and raised her hand. “It’s fine. He can’t harm me.”

“Give him a sword. Soldiers, step back!”

She gestured to silence the shadow guard’s protests. Her intention was clear—she wanted to engage in a fight. It was both a warning to others and a lesson for him.

She tossed the sword to the man and pulled out a jade flute from her sleeve. It gleamed with a faint light, the engraving still clear, though the bl00d from that night was gone.

The flute was warm in her grip, but it could not suppress the coldness seeping from within her.

“I will grant your final wish.”

He grasped the sword, glancing at his dust-covered reflection on the blade. In just two seconds, he let out a loud roar and charged at Lingxi with his sword raised.

Lingxi leaned back to dodge the strike. As the blade descended, she blocked it with her jade flute, the crisp sound of impact echoing through the Prime Minister’s manor.

He pressed down with both hands, trying to force the blade into her shoulder. But Lingxi suddenly thrust the flute forward. It slid along the sword’s edge to the hilt. Then she tilted her shoulder and used the man’s momentum to flip upward, stepping on his shoulder.

The man quickly slashed at her with the sword. Lingxi pushed off hard and landed behind him. With a quick flick of the flute in reverse grip, she struck the back of his neck.

The man grunted in pain and turned to stab again.

Lingxi stared coldly and met him head-on.

The jade flute in Lingxi’s hand wasn’t deadly, but each hit sent waves of pain through his body.

Compared to the death warriors, he was far worse. Lingxi didn’t give him any chance. Each strike made him cry out in
pain.

In another round, the man pushed forward with his sword, trying to overpower Lingxi. Then he kicked at her, trying to distract her. Lingxi dodged to the side, and when she turned back, he suddenly threw a small white porcelain bottle from his sleeve at her. Clear liquid spilled from it as it flew.

A shadow guard had already moved in, but Lingxi grabbed the white fan she had taken from the man’s waist. With a flick of her fingers, the fan snapped open with a crisp sound. The liquid landed on the fan, and in an instant, Lingxi spun and flung it back.

The next moment, a scream of agony echoed through the courtyard.

“A death match—you lost.”

“Trying to assassinate the princess… this is the ending you deserve.”

Lingxi looked at him coldly. The man rolled on the ground, clutching his hand in pain, unable to speak.

Lingxi waved her hand. Someone brought water from the well, bucket after bucket of cold water splashed over him. The freezing cold mixed with burning pain, as if a pair of hands were choking him.

The man was dragged away by soldiers. Li Cai came to join her. The first stage was a success. After that, they followed the trail and wiped out the remaining rebel forces.

A few days later, Li Cai and Lingxi reported the entire case to Zhao Cong.

“The traitor Bai Gao used the reputation of the Prime Minister’s staff to frame him. He also used the Prime Minister’s name to secretly bribe officials from the Ministry of Works’ Department of Measurements at the Chunye Tower with money, attempting to obtain the refining formula for green vitriol oil, intending to poison the princes and princesses.”

“The weapons were smuggled into the city through actors in the theater troupe, who performed in marketplaces and wealthy estates to gather information. Weapons forged at bases outside the city were mixed in with the fake stage props and brought in over multiple trips, then secretly transported elsewhere once inside the city.”

“All the details are clearly stated in the report I submitted to Your Majesty. All involved traitors have already been imprisoned. I await Your Majesty’s judgment.”

Zhao Cong was greatly pleased. Later that evening, after Lingxi had withdrawn, she received an imperial decree: she was granted the title of County Marquis and appointed as Commandant of Wuyin.

Lingxi accepted the decree. After sending off the messenger, she was still in a daze when she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

“What’s the matter? Lord Lu has been promoted—aren’t you happy?”

Lingxi turned to look at her and shook her head. “No, I just suddenly remembered the last time I received an imperial decree.”

Zhao Qingsui pulled her over to sit by the round table, resting her head on her hand as she looked at her. “The last time? Oh—was it when we got married?”

“Yes.”

“Oh? Were you just as lost and helpless that time too?”

Zhao Qingsui pretended to be serious, her tone subtly softer.

Lingxi reached out and held her hand, laughing quietly. “Why is Her Highness bringing up the past like this? Back then, I clearly pledged my loyalty to you.”

Zhao Qingsui tilted her head slightly. “The past, hmm? Lord Lu, thank you for reminding me.”

A faint smile appeared again on her lips, but the curve carried the familiar pressure Lingxi knew so well. Her relaxed back slowly straightened again. Lingxi gently rubbed the back of her hand, trying to soothe her.

“There’s no past grudge. Your Highness must be mistaken.”

“Is that so? Then was it the Shadow Guards who lied to me? Did Lord Lu not fight the traitors to the death? Or…”

Zhao Qingsui paused, then leaned in. Her dark eyes instantly filled Lingxi’s entire view. “Or was it that ‘a general
in the field does not obey the emperor’s orders,’ Lord Lu?”

Lingxi sat upright and calmly replied, “That day was a special situation. The traitor taunted me and even sent someone to assassinate you. Both emotionally and logically, he deserved to be punished.”

Zhao Qingsui smiled as she looked at her, not agreeing but not denying either.

Lingxi couldn’t handle her gaze and relaxed a little. “Ahem, of course, I admit I did take things a bit personally. I just wanted to make an example of him, but who knew he’d fight so dirty, even using poison…”

A shadow leaned closer. Lingxi was still recalling the fight and reacted a beat too slow—her words were abruptly silenced.

A slow grind of teeth and scattered kisses fell on her lips. Damp and warm breath brushed across her cheek. But after just a few moments, the tender touch shifted. A sharp pain pricked her lips.

Zhao Qingsui gently bit her lip to stop her from speaking, yet instinctively eased her force, and after a moment, slowly released it, brushing her tongue lightly across.

The soft stroke of her tongue, mixed with an ant-like sting, made Lingxi’s breathing falter.

It’s unclear how long it lasted, but Lingxi finally heard Zhao Qingsui sigh softly.

“Thankfully, you’re safe.”

Lingxi raised her arms and embraced her, responding with her warmth.

…

After the traitors were purged, it wasn’t long before an imperial decree was issued. Prime Minister Li was temporarily removed from office, and all private factions were banned. Officials were no longer allowed to have personal advisors. The court announced a broader imperial examination system to recruit talented individuals. Anyone with ambition and wisdom could take the exam to serve the country and the emperor.

In the seventh year of the Great Tai, Zhao Qingsui and Lingxi returned to their fief in Guangling. Lingxi stayed by her side every day.

When Zhao Qingsui inspected the irrigation canals, the paths were slippery. Lingxi bent down and carried her on her back, walking the several meters of the canal that way.

The flowing water in the canal reflected their overlapping figures.

Zhao Qingsui personally oversaw spring planting, autumn harvests, and even winter crops. Lingxi accompanied her every time, never missing a single one.

Their footprints, deep and shallow, were left across the fields. Even the edges of their shoes bore traces of yellow mud.

Guangling’s harvests were the best in the entire Great Tai, year after year.

In the ninth year of Great Tai, Lingxi accompanied Zhao Qingsui on a secret tour across many counties of the realm, witnessing the culture and landscapes of the land.

Together, they saw spring’s greenery budding, spreading life across the fields; the crowded markets and thick willow branches by the canal in the summer heat; the fluttering leaves in the autumn forests and the geese flying south overhead; and the winter snowflakes falling on their shoulders at a mountain temple. Zhao Qingsui would brush the snow from her cloak while Lingxi wrapped it tighter around her.

In the fifteenth year, war broke out at the borders. Zhao Qingsui refused peace talks and insisted on a strong military defense. Just like the early days of Great Tai’s unification, she personally went to the front—but this time, Lingxi was the commanding general, and Zhao Qingsui stayed behind as the military supervisor and strategist.
Lingxi grew braver with every battle, leading by example and treating the soldiers with care. Though Zhao Qingsui was frail, she made no exceptions—eating, sleeping, and traveling the same as the troops. Her clear rewards and punishments greatly boosted morale. The enemy forces suffered defeat after defeat and sought peace in the nineteenth year.

In the twentieth year, war ceased, but Zhao Qingsui and Lingxi remained at the border to help the people rebuild their lives.

In the twenty-second year, Zhao Cong fell gravely ill and passed away. Zhao Qingsui supported Zhao Sheng’s succession and formally became the Grand Princess of Great Tai.

When Lingxi held her in her arms, she felt her pain for the first time. Silent tears soaked her clothes, yet burned like fire in Lingxi’s heart.

In the twenty-sixth year, Zhao Sheng grew into a capable ruler. Lingxi accompanied Zhao Qingsui back to their homeland in Guangling.

In the cold winter of the twenty-eighth year, Lingxi walked with Zhao Qingsui through every place in Guangling that held her childhood memories. Together they retraced her steps and tasted her favorite foods from youth. They laughed
and talked joyfully. Lingxi was still often left speechless by her, only able to smile and softly call her, “My princess.”

They embraced under the warm sun and kissed under the gentle moonlight.

At night, back in their residence, as Lingxi lay beside her and kissed her, she quietly tucked a silver strand of hair beneath her dark locks.

Her dark eyes sparkled, just as they had the first time they met, holding Lingxi’s gaze completely, and possessing her whole heart, sweetly and utterly.