The Villains Must Win-Chapter 47: Han Feng

Xue Li’s touch was light, her fingers cool against his tense grip, but it was enough. The storm gathering in Han Feng’s eyes softened ever so slightly. He turned to her, his lips parting as if to protest, but Xue Li merely smiled, a silent plea hidden in the curve of her lips.

She would handle this. She would not allow Han Feng to order harm upon Rui Hua, knowing that such an act could provoke war and ultimately place Han Feng in danger.

The best course of action was patience—to endure Rui Hua’s presence a little longer and await Liang Wei’s arrival. Once he came to retrieve her, Rui Hua would be gone for good, and this Chapter would finally be closed.

Understanding her intent, Han Feng exhaled sharply and leaned back, his displeasure not entirely fading, but restrained—for now.

Xue Li rose from her seat, her elegant figure illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. She met Rui Hua’s expectant gaze with a serene expression, neither hostile nor meek.

She knew exactly what Rui Hua was attempting.

Everyone did.

Rui Hua had played beautifully—so beautifully that anyone who followed would appear lacking in comparison. If Xue Li were to take up an instrument now, she would be placing herself in Rui Hua’s carefully laid trap. The princess sought to highlight their differences—to show the court that she was superior in talent, grace, and refinement.

But Xue Li was not so easily swayed.

She smiled gently and inclined her head. "The Princess plays so beautifully that this Empress dare not follow," she said, her voice carrying just the right balance of humility and wisdom. "This Empress would only embarrass herself should she attempt to play after such an exquisite performance. Instead, if His Majesty permits, this Empress shall offer him a poem."

A murmur rippled through the court.

A poem?

Han Feng’s displeasure instantly vanished, replaced by intrigue. His amber eyes, which had been clouded with irritation just moments ago, now gleamed with anticipation.

"A poem?" he repeated, his voice carrying a rare warmth. "And what poem has my dear Empress prepared for me?"

The shift in his demeanor was immediate. Where Rui Hua had fought to capture his attention, Xue Li had effortlessly drawn his full interest with a single sentence.

The courtiers, sensing the Emperor’s eagerness, straightened in their seats, eager to witness this moment.

Xue Li turned toward Han Feng, her delicate features illuminated by the candlelight, and in a soft, melodic voice, she recited:

"Across a thousand miles of rivers and mountains, I seek no kingdom, nor throne, nor crown.

The weight of the heavens, the vastness of the earth—none hold meaning without you beside me.

If the winds should rise, let them carry us together; if the storms should rage, let us stand as one.

For what is power, what is eternity, if my hand is not held in yours?"

Silence fell over the garden.

For a long moment, no one spoke, no one even breathed, as the weight of Xue Li’s words settled over them.

Then, the Emperor smiled.

Not the polite smile he reserved for court matters, nor the unreadable smirk that kept his enemies at bay. This smile was different—genuine, tender, filled with something deeper than words could express.

Slowly, he reached out and took Xue Li’s hand in his own, his touch lingering, his grip unwavering.

"Then this Emperor shall hold your hand for eternity."

A hushed sigh of admiration spread through the crowd. Some noblewomen pressed their hands to their chests, swooning at the romance unfolding before them. The ministers, though more reserved, exchanged knowing glances, acknowledging the undeniable truth—Han Feng’s love for his Empress was absolute.

And Rui Hua?

She was forgotten. She sat frozen, her hands curled into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms. She was completely forgotten and outdone again.

She had sought to overshadow Xue Li, to prove that she was the better woman. Yet, before her very eyes and everyone, Xue Li had effortlessly turned the moment into something unforgettable.

No song, no melody, no instrument could compare to the depth of love that existed between Han Feng and his Empress.

And Rui Hua realized, with bitter finality, that she would never be able to reach him . . . not when Xue Li was around.

At that moment, a dark and dangerous thought consumed Rui Hua’s mind, a madness that spiraled within her. For Han Feng to finally notice her, Xue Li must disappear. Only then would she have the chance to claim the love that had always been just out of reach.

For years, Rui Hua had known only love, and whatever she desired, she effortlessly obtained. Everywhere she went, she was showered with affection, and she believed that love was her birthright.

Now, this love—Han Feng’s love—was the one thing she craved more than anything. And she wanted it so desperately that she was willing to do whatever it took to claim it.

Realizing that direct assassination would be too obvious and risky, Rui Hua devised a plan that would make Xue Li’s death appear like an unfortunate accident—one that no one could trace back to her. She would eliminate the Empress without drawing suspicion and, in her absence, take her place by Han Feng’s side.

Her opportunity came during one of the palace’s evening gatherings, where high-ranking officials, noblewomen, and foreign dignitaries would stroll through the imperial gardens, enjoying the beauty of the lantern-lit paths.

Rui Hua carefully arranged for the stone path near the lotus pond that morning. Loose stones were deliberately left unstable, creating the perfect place for an unfortunate misstep.

At the same time, she bribed one of the palace attendants to ensure that the handrails on the bridge overlooking the water were weakened, making it easy to break under even the slightest pressure.

Then, under the guise of friendship, she sought out Xue Li that evening, inviting her for a walk in the gardens, suggesting they enjoy the cool night air together. Knowing Xue Li’s gentle temperament, Rui Hua was confident that she would not refuse.