Volume One, Chapter 67: My boyfriend will take me home, Your Highness need not worry.

Mu Shaozhou’s gaze swept over the audience and collided with Yu Mo’s eyes. He immediately lifted his leg to step down from the stage, but the emcee blocked his way.

“Your Highness, where is your fiancée? Won’t you introduce her to everyone?”

Mu Shaozhou halted, his sharp gaze still fixed on Yu Mo’s face. It was clear she was furious now, her anger burning so fiercely it seemed she might tear him apart. The emcee’s interference made his expression even colder; he shot the man a look so fierce it nearly made him faint on the spot. Unbothered, Mu Shaozhou strode straight off the stage, heading purposefully toward Yu Mo.

The emcee, shaken by that glare, didn’t know why the prince had suddenly lost his temper, but he had to press on. “Then, may I invite Miss Tang, His Highness’s fiancée, to come on stage and say a few words?”

As he finished, Tang Xinyan lifted her skirt and walked up, worry etched on her face. Cries of surprise rose from the crowd once again. There had never been any word of the Tang family in the imperial capital—could it be the prince truly favored an ordinary woman? Instantly, many society ladies felt a wave of injustice. If this fiancée had some distinguished background, they would at least have a reason to comfort themselves. But now, it seemed the future princess was just an unknown, ordinary girl.

However, not everyone believed it. Since she had been chosen by Mu Shaozhou himself as his fiancée, Tang Xinyan’s background couldn’t possibly be so simple. Speculation buzzed among the guests.

Yu Mo heard none of it; she was staring fixedly at Mu Shaozhou as he walked toward her. Qi Yancheng, seeing Yu Mo’s reaction, felt a pang of sympathy—but she was bound to learn the truth sooner or later.

Mu Shaozhou drew closer. Suddenly, Yu Mo’s anger faded; she found herself wanting to hear what explanation he would give.

“Mu,” called Tang Xinyan from the stage.

Mu Shaozhou abruptly turned to look at her, then swept his gaze across the men and women in the ballroom. After a moment, he turned away, heading toward Tang Xinyan without looking back.

When Yu Mo saw him turn away again, she couldn’t help but stand up, ready to go after him. She needed answers, right now.

“Yu Mo, wait,” Qi Yancheng pressed her shoulder. “Don’t act rashly. You’ll have a chance to speak with him alone later; now isn’t the time.”

If the women of the imperial capital found out about her relationship with Mu Shaozhou, some were bound to plot trouble. Yu Mo sat back down, her once radiant face now clouded with discouragement. She gave a bitter laugh, feeling like a clown.

She picked up a glass of wine and downed it in one gulp. Men are all pigs, she thought. She would never again believe a word from any man. All those sweet words about wanting to be her boyfriend—when he’d already had a fiancée. He was only playing with her, while she had almost taken it seriously.

After three drinks in rapid succession, Qi Yancheng could no longer stand by. She hadn’t even confronted him yet and was already drinking herself senseless. “Yu Mo, stop drinking,” Qi Yancheng said, taking all the glasses from her.

Meanwhile, Tang Xinyan stepped off the stage to join Mu Shaozhou. Noticing his sour mood, she blinked her large eyes at him. “Mu, what’s wrong?”

Mu Shaozhou remained silent, his expression cold, forcing himself not to look at Yu Mo. The fact that Yu Mo would appear at his father’s birthday banquet—seeing Qi Yancheng beside her, he guessed this had been arranged on purpose.

His hand at his side clenched into a fist. The thought of Yu Mo and Qi Yancheng embracing drove him nearly mad. But he couldn’t fight over a woman in front of so many people—not here in the imperial capital. The Mu family’s alliances and rivalries were too intricate; if Yu Mo’s existence became public, she could be in grave danger.

“Nothing,” he replied coldly.

Tang Xinyan looped her arm through his. Mu Shaozhou’s arm tensed, and he almost pulled away, but after a moment, he let it be.

She’d tried to hold his arm before, always refused. Now, for the first time, he didn’t reject her. Her heart soared—Mu was finally acknowledging her as his fiancée. In the past, he must have refused only to protect her reputation, especially since she was still a sophomore in college. The thought that she’d have to wait another year to marry him made her morose; if only her mother had given birth to her a year earlier.

Noticing Mu Shaozhou’s gaze drifting toward Yu Mo, Tang Xinyan remembered the help Yu Mo had given her earlier. “Mu, just now my dress came undone—it was that young lady who helped me. She’s very kind. The man with her must be her boyfriend; they make a handsome couple.”

She edged closer to Mu Shaozhou, feeling almost giddy with happiness.

Mu Shaozhou glanced coolly at Yu Mo and Qi Yancheng, then withdrew his gaze, his long lashes lowering as a chilling aura seemed to envelop him. He would not allow it—Yu Mo could only ever be his.

When it was time for the toasts, Mu Shaozhou offered wine on behalf of his father. His elegant hand held a glass as he approached Yu Mo’s table. Qi Yancheng raised a glass first, “Young Master Mu, I toast you—wishing Uncle Mu a happy birthday.” He drained his glass, pressing his other hand reassuringly over Yu Mo’s, urging her not to lose control.

Yu Mo longed to confront Mu Shaozhou, but with so many people present, she merely picked up her glass, smiling sweetly as if nothing were amiss, and clinked it lightly against his. “Your Highness, I toast you—may you and your fiancée grow old together in happiness.”

As she finished, bitterness filled her heart—the wine going down was just as bitter.

Mu Shaozhou’s fingers whitened around his glass; he clenched his jaw but did not drink the wine Yu Mo offered. Only he could grow old with her—no one else.

Tang Xinyan, oblivious to the tension, clung to his arm. “Sister, thank you for earlier. Let me toast you as well.” She lifted her glass toward Yu Mo.

Mu Shaozhou’s lips parted. “Xinyan, you’re still in school—you shouldn’t drink,” he said, though his eyes never left Yu Mo’s face. Her cheeks already bore a flush, proof that she’d had far too much. He couldn’t let her drink more. Just thinking of her uninhibited warmth after drinking made him want to whisk her away, as far from Qi Yancheng as possible.

Yu Mo seemed unbothered, handing her juice to Tang Xinyan. “Miss Tang, have this instead of wine.”

Tang Xinyan accepted the juice and toasted with Yu Mo. Yu Mo offered her congratulations, then tipped back her wine. But before she could drink, a large hand gripped hers, stopping her.

Mu Shaozhou’s burning eyes locked on hers.

Meeting his possessive gaze, Yu Mo laughed softly. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll drink too much, Your Highness?”

She took Qi Yancheng’s hand, her lips a vivid crimson, her smile dazzling. “My boyfriend will take me home; Your Highness needn’t worry.”

No sooner had she spoken than pain shot through her wrist, and the glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor—wine splattering across her dress.