Even the ever-composed He Mo couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow upon hearing Leng Yiyao’s words. His gaze flickered with intrigue as he looked into her eyes. After a brief pause, he finally spoke in a quiet voice:
“You know why he’s looking for me?”
What other reason could there be?
Leng Yiyao tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smirked lazily.
As the royal family’s heir, Lu Chen’s only real competitor had been his younger brother. Both had their advantages—Lu Ming had an extraordinary reputation among the common people and was widely supported, while Lu Chen, as the eldest son, enjoyed their father’s favoritism. For years, the two had battled in the shadows while maintaining a façade of civility.
But now, with the Second Prince dead, Lu Chen had gained significantly.
And because he was the only direct beneficiary, it was only natural that everyone suspected him of orchestrating Lu Ming’s death.
Whether Lu Chen truly felt threatened or was merely putting on a show for his father, he had to find someone of unquestionable status and authority to vouch for him. Or, at the very least, have someone influential publicly quash the rumors.
Within the empire, there were only a handful of people who fit that criteria.
The royal family would have been the first choice, of course.
But his father was most likely furious and grief-stricken over the Second Prince’s death, and even if he wasn’t openly blaming Lu Chen, he would certainly have his doubts. Lu Chen couldn’t risk it. So, his only option was to turn elsewhere.
Politics? Out of the question. The empire was ruled by two opposing parties—neither was neutral enough to lend credibility. Worse, siding with one might cause the other to become an even bigger obstacle for him.
The military? Now that was a different story.
The army had one supreme authority, and everyone followed a single leader.
No one—absolutely no one—was more qualified to serve as his witness than the man before her.
And no one had more undisputed credibility than He Mo.
In the end, Lu Chen had come to beg for his help—because circumstances forced him to.
But… with that awful temper of his?
The muffled shouting outside continued, and Leng Yiyao couldn’t help but wonder how the hotel executives were faring, struggling to deal with the furious First Prince.
She scoffed internally.
What a waste that the soul she had replaced on the night of her rebirth had died so pointlessly.
Compared to Lu Ming, his older brother didn’t even come close—not in intelligence, nor in looks.
“His Highness wouldn’t have come unless he needed something from you.”
She smiled, her gaze flickering toward He Mo’s brow, her words carrying not a trace of hesitation.
He Mo’s raised eyebrow slowly eased back to its usual calm.
His expression remained impassive, yet his voice carried an almost seductive patience, as though drawing out the full answer from her, step by step.
“You said that half the reason he came… was because of you?”
Leng Yiyao’s lips curled slightly.
“The night Lu Ming died… I was the only survivor.”
She spoke slowly, deliberately, as she took one measured step after another toward where He Mo sat on the bed.
Until—
Only an arm’s length separated them.
Until—
Their breaths intertwined, close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s skin.
If either of them leaned just slightly to the side, their faces would touch.
In that instant, He Mo’s gaze sharpened—a sudden glint of recognition flashing through his eyes, piercing straight through her.
Leng Yiyao held his gaze and suddenly smiled.
See? This is what happens when two predators recognize one another.
It wasn’t about perception—it was something deeper, something unspoken and instinctual.
She was certain now.
Just as she had known from the first moment she saw him, He Mo had the same bloodthirst running through his veins as she did.
His unwavering eyes were filled with an unshakable certainty.
For the first time, He Mo chuckled.
A low, amused laugh.
Then—
He lifted his hand and grasped her waist.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
By the time Fu Lei rushed in on high alert, all he saw was the Marshal pulling Leng Yiyao onto his lap—forcing her to sit there.
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