Indeed, it was a tone of humility.
She had never seen Xiao Hanjin like this before—not even back in Xiliang, when he was just a guard. Back then, he had always spoken with a calm and composed demeanor, as if nothing could ruffle him or stir any emotion within him.
Yet now, he had lowered his noble head and was saying things he had never said before—he actually said he loved her.
Di Ronghua felt an absurd urge to laugh.
She had wished countless times for him to remember what happened in Xiliang, to remember the feelings they once shared. She had even thought that even if he couldn’t remember, it would be enough if he could just fall in love with her again.
She closed her eyes, “If I recall correctly, half a month ago, I told you not to love me, and you said I was overthinking it.”
The woman let out a laugh, her eyes opening to look at him with mockery, “Have you been with me for so long that you’ve never been apart from me? Is it because you haven’t seen me for half a month that you’ve suddenly developed this illusion of loving me out of habit?”
“I am unaccustomed to it.”
The man’s jaw tightened slightly, and his voice grew deeper, “But I’m not so delusional as to mistake it for something else.”
In fact, before saying this, he wasn’t even sure. What he had initially wanted to say was that he seemed to have fallen for her.
Yes, just “seemed.”
But when she asked him like this, an instinctive anger surged within him, and he immediately confirmed that this was neither an illusion nor a mere “seeming.”
He truly, genuinely, had fallen in love with Di Ronghua.
He didn’t know when it started…
Perhaps it was when he saw her with other men, and an unfamiliar, never-before-felt emotion eroded his rationality. Perhaps it was when he saw her, time and time again, standing by his side despite being furious. Or perhaps it was as early as when he stood in front of the imperial study, saying it was impossible for him to love her, only to realize it was a futile attempt to convince himself otherwise.
Or maybe even earlier, back in Xiliang…
Xiao Hanjin’s arms around her tightened, and he nuzzled his chin against her shoulder, a gesture of both appeasement and vulnerability, as he murmured in a low, hoarse voice, “Your Highness, forgive me, will you?”
Di Ronghua’s pupils contracted.
For a moment, she almost softened.
But in the next second, all the suppressed anger and resentment she had harbored for so long, along with the facade of indifference she had maintained, surged forth, causing her to blurt out, “Before I answer your question, I have one of my own…”
“Alright.”
“You just said that I won’t see Mu Qingshuang anymore,” she said with a smile, “Do you mean that you won’t let me see her, or that you won’t see her or care for her anymore either?”
The man’s body stiffened slightly.
Di Ronghua instinctively clenched her fist.
“What’s the difference?”
What’s the difference?
Did he really think there was no difference?
Di Ronghua blinked, “The latter would at least make me believe that you love me. The former… are you asking me to cover my ears and deceive myself?”
The man’s dark gaze fell on her face, tinged with displeasure, “Can you really not tolerate her?”
Ha?
Di Ronghua took a deep breath and couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes, I can’t tolerate her. So, didn’t you say she’s gravely ill and doesn’t have long to live? Then the outcome is either you cure her, or she dies. How about you come talk to me about these things after that happens?”
“Di Ronghua.”
The man’s voice suddenly turned cold.
