He Already Is

And on top of that, Gu Chengyin's face kept spinning through her mind, making her head ache.

Every time she endured for a moment, the result was greater anger; every time she backed down, the cost was a deeper loss.

The aloof, solitary crown prince demeanor Luo Zhao had just put on in front of Gu Chengyin—

now that she recalled it, it brought her not the slightest satisfaction.

Instead, it made her feel like a fool who had been patted on the head and still forced to say, "I'm fine."

She was the crown prince!

The sole crown prince of the Great Luo Dynasty!

The heaven-ordained heir to the throne!

The future empress!

Those white-bearded old ministers in the court bowed to her with proper courtesy.

Even someone as powerful as Cui Shifan showed her due respect.

There was never a hint of disrespect.

But Gu Chengyin?

What had he done?

Luo Zhao’s fingers tightened on her forehead.

He had controlled her.

And he had taken her first kiss.

At that moment, when Gu Chengyin’s lips pressed against hers, her mind had gone completely blank.

It wasn’t the racing heart of being kissed by someone she liked.

It was the hollow confusion of having something taken from her.

Later, Luo Zhao told herself it was nothing—just a kiss.

But every time she thought about it, a strange sensation lingered on her lips.

Not warmth, not softness.

It was like a brand burned into her, a scorching heat that she couldn’t wipe away no matter how hard she tried.

It felt as if her very soul had been stamped.

He had also made her call him "Master."

Luo Zhao bit her lower lip hard, her teeth leaving a faint white mark on the tender skin.

Those two words, that title—

every time she thought of them, it felt like her dignity had been trampled and ground into the dirt again and again.

She had said it, not because she was forced.

But because she had been led—gently, little by little—into saying it.

Though it was under duress at the time, meant to keep Gu Chengyin from growing suspicious,

that feeling was more terrifying than coercion, because when she uttered those words,

Luo Zhao even felt like she had done it willingly.

And... and...

Luo Zhao’s breathing quickened.

Scenes too shameful to recall flashed before her eyes.

Every frame was as clear as if it had happened only yesterday; every detail was so complete she had no place to hide.

She had thought those memories were gone, buried in the deepest recesses of her mind.

But they were always there,

like thorns embedded in flesh—painless until touched, then biting deep.

And now?

Now the hypnosis had been lifted.

Gu Chengyin had lifted it in front of everyone.

And then he had stopped pretending.

No longer maintaining that gentle, virtuous, and modest image of the Junior Tutor. No longer carefully hiding his sharp edges in her presence.

He could admit in front of her, "I just wanted to control you."

He could speak to her in that tone that said, "There’s nothing you can do about it."

He could pat her head and say, "Just stay obedient as my crown prince."

Because now, to Gu Chengyin, Luo Zhao posed no threat.

So he no longer needed to control her.

Because he had found a better candidate—because he was about to become her uncle-in-law.

Luo Zhao’s hands slipped from her forehead and slapped down onto the desk.

The force wasn’t heavy, but the sound was especially sharp in the empty hall, like a dull drumbeat.

"Uncle can bear it, but aunt cannot!"

She took a deep breath, her chest heaving violently.

Then she exhaled slowly, very slowly,

as if using that breath to measure the very limit of her endurance.

No.

She had to vent this anger.

Otherwise, knowing that Gu Chengyin was still alive and well, breathing the same air as her,

Luo Zhao felt that every breath she took was just supplying oxygen to that Red Egg.

At this rate, she wouldn’t even be able to sleep.

In fact, she hadn’t slept much last night—tossing and turning until midnight,

her mind full of the image of Gu Chengyin leaving with Lin Qingyan.

At this rate, Gu Chengyin would soon become her inner demon!

No.

He already was.

Luo Zhao’s brow furrowed even tighter.

She closed her eyes, trying to find a path in her mind to vent this anger.

But that path was shrouded in a thick fog, and she hit a wall after just a few steps.

How could she possibly deal with Gu Chengyin?

Luo Zhao opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the purple‑tipped brush that had rolled off the desk.

A small blot of ink clung to the brush handle, gleaming darkly in the sunlight.

She stared at that ink blot for a long time, as if searching for some kind of order in that tiny patch of chaos.

For now, it seemed she had no way to deal with Gu Chengyin.

In terms of martial power, Gu Chengyin was at the Great Perfection of the Foundation Establishment stage, while she was at the Early Foundation Establishment stage.

There were two minor realms between them, a chasm she couldn’t cross in a short time.

She couldn’t even touch the hem of his robe.

Although with unlimited resources, Luo Zhao was confident she could catch up,

it would take time. And for now, Gu Chengyin would only grow stronger faster.

In terms of strategy and wit, Gu Chengyin could wrestle with anyone in the court.

He could walk away unscathed from the level of gamesmanship found in the Three Judicial Departments.

He could read the Emperor’s mind better than the Emperor himself.

With her limited skill, she probably wasn’t even a player on his chessboard—at most, she was a piece being moved around.

In terms of power and influence, Gu Chengyin was the Crown Prince’s Junior Tutor, the Vice Minister of Rites, the candidate for the next Minister of Rites,

and the core figure of the Crown Prince’s faction.

Most of her influence in the court was propped up by him behind the scenes.

Whether it was the Prince’s faction or the aristocratic and commoner cliques—if they wanted to target her,

they had to weigh the consequences of Gu Chengyin’s retaliation.

After all, his track record was there for all to see.

Thinking this, Luo Zhao felt a strange sensation swell in her heart.

Was this... a sense of security?

But she quickly suppressed it and pulled her thoughts back on track.

So, with what could she fight Gu Chengyin?

Could she really go to her father the Emperor?

But that would mean she had failed as a crown prince—

unable even to control her own Junior Tutor, needing her father to step in.

If that got out, how would the old ministers in the court see her?

How would the aristocratic and commoner cliques see her?

How would the people of the world see her?

Luo Zhao tapped her fingers lightly on the desk, producing two crisp du du sounds.

But the problem was—which Junior Tutor was ever this excessive?

Which dynasty’s Junior Tutor ever hypnotized his own crown prince?

Which dynasty’s Junior Tutor ever took the crown prince’s first kiss?

Which dynasty’s Junior Tutor ever did those kinds of things to his crown prince?

And spoke in that "you can’t do anything about me" tone?

This was not the attitude of a Junior Tutor toward his crown prince. This was...

Luo Zhao gritted her teeth and swallowed that word back down.

She thought it over and over—from martial power to strategy to influence—

running all the possibilities through her mind,

only to finally admit a reality that made her feel stifled to the point of suffocation:

She really had no way to deal with Gu Chengyin.

At least at this stage, she couldn’t lay a finger on him.

So what was she supposed to do?