Woof Woof

But Luo Zhao did not answer, because words were too pale.

Too light—so light that they were like a feather falling onto the surface of the water, unable to stir even the slightest ripple.

Luo Zhao did not want to answer the question in such a weightless manner.

So she seized Gu Chengyin’s hand and placed it against her neck once more.

She chose to answer with action.

I place my life in your hands.

The most vulnerable part of me, my most fatal weakness—I lay it beneath your palm without holding anything back.

You can tighten your fingers and make me suffocate.

You can press harder and leave even more marks on me.

You can do anything you want.

Because I trust you.

Seeing this, Gu Chengyin understood Luo Zhao’s feelings as well.

Though he truly had not expected to gain her trust in this way.

The path he had originally envisioned was not like this.

He had thought it would take more time, more maneuvering, more mutual probing and scheming before Luo Zhao would slowly lower her guard and gradually entrust him with her confidence.

Yet reality was always full of surprises.

At the most unexpected moment, Luo Zhao had used the most extreme method to lay everything about herself bare before him.

But no matter how it had happened, at least he had obtained what he wanted.

Gu Chengyin did not grasp Luo Zhao’s throat.

His palm moved away from her neck without tightening, without exerting force, without even lingering there.

Instead, it slid upward along the line of her jaw, passed over her delicate chin, and finally came to rest at its tip.

Then Gu Chengyin curled his finger and lightly scratched her with the pad of it.

At the same time, he asked, “How does a dog bark?”

Luo Zhao’s eyes suddenly lit up.

The corners of her lips rose into a brazen smile.

There was no shyness in it, no restraint, none of the poised dignity expected of a Crown Princess.

There was only overwhelming satisfaction.

“Woof, woof!”

Her voice was crisp and bright, like jade beads dropping onto a tray and echoing through the quiet hall.

She enunciated every syllable perfectly, without the slightest hesitation or shame, as though she had been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time.

After barking, Luo Zhao gazed at Gu Chengyin with shining eyes filled with anticipation.

She was like a well-behaved puppy waiting for a reward after carrying out its master’s command, her tail practically wagging fast enough to blur.

At this point, the outcome was already decided.

Gu Chengyin looked at those astonishingly bright eyes, at the excitement and satisfaction written plainly across her face.

Looking at how she had not only shown no shame after barking but had instead become even more expectant, he felt a certainty unlike any he had known before.

He knew that he would soon break through to the Core Formation Realm.

Because he simply had no idea how to lose.

For others, breaking through to the Core Formation Realm required a flawless Dao heart—the certainty and conviction to remain steadfast in the path they had chosen.

Gu Chengyin’s Dao heart had long since broken through.

And now, the road ahead of him was completely unobstructed.

When Emperor Luo openly moved to suppress him, he had changed course and turned to the Celestial Master’s Estate, seeking the position of Grand Preceptor.

When Emperor Luo wanted the Cui Clan to sever ties with the Crown Princess faction, he had bound Cui Zilu to Luo Zhao.

When Emperor Luo wanted him to become a lone official, he had made the Crown Princess faction more powerful than ever.

And although Luo Zhao had been an unforeseen development, she had also delivered the final killing move.

The Denghuo Tower’s security.

Once this move was made, no matter how formidable Emperor Luo’s methods were, he would have no choice but to helplessly accept the situation.

“Leave this matter to me.”

As he spoke, Gu Chengyin’s finger continued to lightly scratch Luo Zhao’s chin.

He was using this gesture to tell her: You did very well. This is your reward.

Luo Zhao had no objection whatsoever.

She had always been desperately short of a sense of security.

She had walked alone ever since she was little.

Her Empress Mother had died early—so early that all Luo Zhao could remember was a blurred outline, like a puff of warm breath in winter that dispersed before she could see it clearly.

Her Imperial Father loved her, but that love was mixed with far too much imperial manipulation, making it impossible for Luo Zhao to distinguish genuine affection from calculation.

The people at court concealed scrutiny beneath their respect for her, and their loyalty was threaded with ulterior motives.

Every one of them was watching to see how far she could go. Every one of them was secretly weighing whether to place their bet on her.

Those smiling old ministers, those young officials bowing deferentially, those heads of powerful clans who sent lavish gifts whenever a festival came around—

They all measured her with the same ruler.

Luo Zhao was measuring how much they could give her, while they were measuring how much she could give them.

It was a silent transaction, and every participant understood it perfectly.

So even though she was always surrounded by people—

Servants encircled her, officials clustered around her, aristocratic clans fawned over her, and the entire world looked up to her.

It was always bustling. There was always someone bowing and waiting for her orders, always someone smiling obsequiously and waiting for her favor.

Yet no one had ever enabled Luo Zhao to truly open her heart.

Those people approached her because she was the Crown Princess.

They flattered her because she would one day become the empress.

They pledged themselves to her because placing their bet on her promised the greatest return.

But what if she were not the Crown Princess?

What if she were merely an ordinary daughter of an aristocratic clan?

Would those people still gather around her? Would they still smile at her? Would they still place their most precious treasures before her?

No.

Luo Zhao knew that better than anyone.

So she had closed the deepest door within her heart.

She had shut it tight, leaving not the slightest crack, allowing no one to glimpse what lay inside.

She had built high walls out of cold arrogance and isolation, laid the bricks with poise and composure, and planted the banners of the Crown Princess’s dignity along the ramparts.

Everyone remained outside the walls, looking up from afar at the fluttering banners and assuming that they represented her entirety.

No one had climbed over those walls. No one had pushed open that door. No one had even considered trying.

Except Gu Chengyin.

He had not climbed over the wall, nor had he entered by pushing open the door.

He had simply blown the wall apart and kicked the door down.

From the very first moment they met, Gu Chengyin had forced his way into Luo Zhao’s world like a bandit.

He did not care about her thoughts, her opinions, or even her as a person.

Not her breathtaking beauty and figure, nor the nobility she had been born with, nor her extraordinary talent.

Gu Chengyin cared about none of it.

In the eyes of others, her appearance was that of a goddess descended into the mortal world. In his eyes, it was nothing more than a fleshly shell destined to become bones.

In the eyes of others, her identity marked her as the future empress. In his eyes, it was merely a tool called the Crown Princess.

In the eyes of others, her talent was astonishing and unparalleled. In his eyes, she was simply a person who was reasonably capable.

With the most overbearing attitude, Gu Chengyin took control of her thoughts, her life, and everything that belonged to her.

He did not cautiously probe her boundaries as others did. He did not study her every expression in an attempt to divine her wishes as others did.

He did not place the finest things before her and wait for her favor as others did.

Instead, he simply made the decision for Luo Zhao.