Chapter 12 Playing Hard to Get

Overwhelmingly, it was all his scent…

How novel.

The instigator had been tormenting her for what felt like ages, acting as though he intended to have his way with her right there, yet still had the audacity to ask why she was running.

Xie Qingman didn’t turn around. She couldn’t see Ye Yansheng’s expression, but she struggled lightly and murmured, I need to go back.

The underground parking garage was vast and quiet, not particularly noisy but amplifying every sound, making even the slightest movement distinctly clear. The light cast their shadows long and stretched.

Ye Yansheng’s grip was too strong; he held her effortlessly, his gaze intense. I’ll take you home.

Xie Qingman instinctively curled her fingers slightly.

Her wrist was tense, and so was the rest of her body.

Sensing her tension, Ye Yansheng loosened his hold. He noticed her reddened earlobes and silently curved his lips, his tone shifting from its usual imperiousness. I’ll have someone drive you.

Xie Qingman pressed her lips together and murmured an Mm.

She let him keep hold of her wrist and arrange everything.

Neither eager nor resistant, she was docile, as if her thoughts had emptied, still dazed from that kiss.

A few minutes later, the driver opened the car door.

Xie Qingman, who had been so desperate to escape moments before, now hesitated. She paused by the car, staring intently at him.

What’s wrong? Ye Yansheng stood with his back to the light, his eyes shadowed and unreadable. The heat and desire seemed to have faded, leaving only a teasing edge. Changed your mind about leaving?

He was calm and composed, but his low, husky voice was seductive. If you don’t want to go, stay with me.

Her gaze snapped away.

Xie Qingman’s expression was blank as she got into the back seat without looking back, her refusal unmistakably final.

Ye Yansheng let out a short laugh.

A genuinely pleased one.

He watched her flee in disarray but didn’t press further. His cool, sharp features held a lazy, almost ruthless nonchalance, an indescribable aura.

The car window rolled down.

Xie Qingman leaned out, resting her arms on the window frame. Her soft, long hair cascaded down, framing her delicate brows and distinct lips. Her eyes were clear and bright, like autumn waters.

She stared directly at Ye Yansheng and said, See you tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Ye Yansheng raised an eyebrow.

Xie Qingman withdrew, her expression unchanged, and added calmly, I mean, goodbye.

The car drove off into the night.

Under the dark sky, the city lights and traffic merged into a glittering ribbon. Chang’an Avenue stretched like a Dragon Vein, with its waterways and central axis running north to south, much like the backbone of Beijing.

Xie Qingman studied her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked thoroughly intoxicated, her usual aloofness gone, replaced by a feigned—or perhaps real—shyness and disarray.

In truth, she could hold her liquor well.

But the image before her seemed genuinely drunk.

She raised a hand to touch her lips, feeling a slight sting, and couldn’t help recalling how Ye Yansheng had gripped her chin to claim that kiss.

The tenderness had been fleeting; his earlier patience and courtesy seemed like an illusion. Any resistance had been swiftly suppressed. He held her by the neck, restraining and plundering, deepening the kiss with a relentless intensity that left no room for retreat.

Overwhelmingly, it was all his scent.

He blocked most of the light, leaving flickering shadows.

In her dazed state, she looked at him: his dark hair slightly parted over his forehead, his features sharp and defined, a thin, distinct scar cutting across the edge of his brow.

Even in such moments, his gaze remained cold, carrying an air of detached indifference.

Like a summer stormy night in Hong Kong, her first impression of him was cold, ruthless, and inherently fierce.

Enough to make one fall deeply, yet enough to leave one unwilling.

At that moment, distracted for a brief second, she felt Ye Yansheng’s hand tighten around her waist. From below, his movements gave her no room to escape, robbing her of the ability to think, pulling her back into the violent surge of passion.

Her heart raced wildly.

Xie Qingman reined in her chaotic thoughts and closed her eyes in the dim light of the car, thinking:

Perhaps she really was a little drunk.

The second round of auditions the next day was to finalize the results of the open casting. The venue was much quieter with fewer people.

The audition scene was the breakup between the Male and Female Lead in Zhaoyang Hall.

Among the candidates were Su Yi, a double-award-winning television queen, Yuan Ke, a popular young actress, and another actress known for her acting skills.

In comparison, Xie Qingman seemed obscure, and since she was the last to perform, hardly anyone had high expectations.

After all, the young actress and the skilled performer had already been overshadowed by the award-winning star.

From restrained crying and subtly trembling facial expressions to the controlled intensity when questioning the future emperor about his sincerity, the emotional immersion was powerful. Many in the audience resonated with it, and most felt the outcome was already decided, with no room for suspense.

By the time it was Xie Qingman’s turn, most had lost interest.

Completely different from the previous three performers, Xie Qingman did not resort to hysterics or heartbroken sobs.

Facing the male lead and the deadly trap, she remained calm.

Kneeling on the ground, she looked up at the actor playing opposite her—Prince Qin in the drama, the future emperor about to ascend the throne, the ruler of the realm—and calmly, almost serenely, retorted:

Then may I ask Your Highness, is it the Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers who doubt me, or the future Son of Heaven who doubts me?

Is it the noble families and meritorious officials who cannot tolerate me, or the one who shares my bed who cannot tolerate me?

The male actor paused briefly but quickly recovered, his expression darkening, a hint of warning in his eyes:

Qingyan.

Ancestral laws, internal strife, and external threats—these are nothing but excuses. Xie Qingman looked at him, feeling that all the sincerity she had invested over the years was absurd and laughable. If the Liangzhou Troops were not still loyal to me, and the Lingyuan Pavilion not in my hands, who’s to say the tragic fate of the Xiao family would not be mine tomorrow?

Word by word, her voice rang with conviction.

The room fell silent.

The once noisy venue gradually grew hushed, all eyes fixed on the stage.

In truth, why go to such lengths? Qingyan is not one to forget kindness or fail to repay it, Xie Qingman lowered her gaze and spoke softly. In the twenty-eighth year of Chongming, when the Western Regions invaded, the army was trapped at Qiongqi Path, and Your Highness fought bloodily for seven days, risking your life to protect me, even offering your own blood as an antidote for my poison, I vowed then to repay you with my life.

So, when the Xue family framed me, the Crown Prince threatened me, and Prince Heng tried to bribe me, I never wavered in the slightest.

Back then, Your Highness promised never to abandon me, to ensure my safety for a lifetime. All these years, those words have echoed in my ears. I thought…

I thought our ending could be different.

But on this path of power, we have ultimately become strangers.

Only then did Xie Qingman shed tears.

She gazed at the man, tears silently tracing down her cheeks, falling to the ground and piercing the hearts of everyone present.

Resentment, sorrow, regret.

But more than anything, disappointment and irony.

Qingyan…

The man in splendid robes before her was finally moved. He reached out to touch her, but Xie Qingman avoided his hand.

If Your Highness truly feared me, you should never have saved my life that day, nor granted me authority. We should have gone our separate ways, each to our own path.

She closed her eyes briefly, concealing the weariness within, and when she reopened them, her gaze was clear and resolute. But now, the futures and lives of countless people rest upon my shoulders. I have no path of retreat left, Your Highness.

With power firmly in hand, it remains uncertain who will ultimately prevail.

Although the confrontation in Zhaoyang Hall was merely an act for others to witness, it needed to appear genuine to convince onlookers.

The female lead had indeed felt affection and invested emotions, but a woman unwilling to be confined by feudal norms—a woman of peerless cunning who rivaled any man—could not ignore the stark lesson of her family’s destruction. With her own husband harboring murderous intent and herself nearly following the tragic fate of fallen advisors, it would be ludicrous to prioritize so-called love and sincerity over the greater situation.

What need was there for a mere dodder flower, entirely dependent on the male lead, to cooperate in acting and scheming together?

I am not my father. I will never bow my head to the executioner’s blade.

Xie Qingman rose slowly, meeting Prince Qin’s gaze with icy determination. If I cannot leave Zhaoyang Hall today, Your Highness shall witness what true internal strife and external threats truly mean!

This was Xiao Qingyan—peerless and unparalleled.

The character from the script seemed to come alive in that moment, stepping forth with flesh and blood before everyone’s eyes.

On and off stage, a dead silence prevailed.

After the scene concluded, the audience remained stunned, but the male actor sharing the stage was the first to recover, exclaiming Bravo!—triggering an immediate surge of thunderous applause from below.

The lines were improvised, and spontaneous performances inevitably have flaws, lacking the refinement of a scriptwriter’s work. Xie Qingman turned and bowed to the director, both apologetic and sincere. I hope you can overlook any deviations from the script.

The audition provided only a brief summary, general plot outline, and character background within the scope of the test.

Improvisation required actors to interpret the character’s psychology independently and devise reactions and dialogue on the spot.

Perhaps influenced by her parents, Xie Qingman felt indifferent toward so-called love. After all, sincerity was fleeting, and entrusting everything to another person was akin to a gamble destined to fail. It was better to find someone of equal social standing for mutual benefit. Even if using affection as a bargaining chip, mutual exploitation and calculation were preferable to utter defeat for love or becoming a stepping stone for others.

Her performance happened to align perfectly with the director’s vision.

No, no—it was excellent, the director repeated twice, smiling. You were remarkable. Please await our notification.

The distinction was immediately clear.

The venue buzzed with subdued excitement as discussions broke out.

This newcomer’s acting is incredibly strong. Though I’ve never heard of her, I feel she embodies the role best.

Right? I think the director favors her most too.

What good is fine acting without background, connections, or fame? someone poured cold water on the enthusiasm. She’s up against an award-winning actress—who would choose a newcomer over a celebrated star?

Don’t say that—everyone starts as a newcomer…

A few comments drifted to Xie Qingman’s ears, but she paid no mind, merely smiling faintly before leaving the audition site.

While Xie Qingman was auditioning, Ye Yansheng was at T&C headquarters.

The CBD of the capital was bustling and noisy, with ceaseless traffic flowing through crisscrossing roads, surrounded by skyscrapers piercing the clouds.

Unlike the materialistic Shenhai, the prosperity at the foot of the imperial city was merely decorative.

What’s going on out there?

The break room in the administrative building had always been the hub of company gossip, where employees gathered to whisper among themselves.

Have the division heads and shareholders from the affiliated investment companies arrived? Since this morning, cars from out of town haven’t stopped coming. Even during annual meetings, we rarely see such a full turnout.

Probably because Mr. Ye has returned?

He’s been back for a while, but the boss rarely shows his face, so we never get to see him.

No wonder everyone says the boss has a firm hand? Ordinary people couldn’t possibly keep these tough customers in check. Someone lowered their voice, But I heard that the executives who resigned or were transferred in the past few months were dismissed without even meeting him. It seems something happened in the South China region…

Months ago, during the management reshuffle, Ye Yansheng dealt with those old foxes without even being in the capital.

The current situation conveyed only one signal:

Someone was about to face misfortune.

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