For no reason at all

The Ugly Bride’s Dowry Without Barriers

Standing before Yun Xueyan, Duan Nanyu’s face was cold and stern, his eyes gleaming with frost as his gaze lingered on the lotus painted upon her cheek.

“Who painted it?”

Yun Xueyan lifted her head, her eyes wide as she looked at Duan Nanyu’s grim expression. Instinctively, she stepped back a few paces before replying in a soft voice, “It was the artist from the prince’s residence.”

“An artist?” Duan Nanyu’s tone was icy. “There has never been an artist in the prince’s residence! Yun Xueyan, you certainly know how to lie. Tell me, which man was it?”

Stunned and confused, she stared at him, unable to comprehend his words for a moment. He said there was no artist in the prince’s residence? Yet the man had claimed to be one.

“Wretched woman! I was gone only a morning, and you dared bring a man into the Xuan Yue Pavilion!” In a flash, he closed the distance to Yun Xueyan, grasping her slender wrist with fierce strength.

She struggled desperately to free her hand, but no matter how she tried, it was futile. Duan Nanyu’s grip remained firm, and her face paled with the pain.

“Let me go…” she murmured, her voice trembling. She bit her lip as Duan Nanyu dragged her into the room.

Suddenly, his grip loosened, and she lost her support, stumbling and falling to the floor, her wrist still throbbing with pain.

She feared him—whenever she saw him or heard his voice, she could not help but tremble.

He hauled her up from the ground and pressed her against the wall, his body close to hers, looming over her as he scrutinized her trembling form.

The lotus on her cheek masked the original ugliness, and her eyes, moist and bright, with long trembling lashes, softened her appearance. Suppressing his anger, Duan Nanyu’s voice grew cold as he leaned close to her ear.

“Are you truly so ungrateful?”

He refrained, for the moment, from questioning her about the artist. If his guess was correct, it must have been from Fengxi Tower.

Few could match that skill, save one.

Yet that man, who never showed much interest in women, had painted for this ugly woman before him—how rare.

The man whose smile hid all his emotions—what could he be thinking?

Yun Xueyan looked up at Duan Nanyu with innocent eyes. What had she done wrong?

“Don’t pretend to be pitiful before me!” Seeing her stubborn yet delicate demeanor, he grew inexplicably enraged. “Tell me, why did you do this?”

She had repeatedly challenged his authority, pushed his patience beyond its limits. He tolerated her only because she was Yun Xiyin’s sister, but his forbearance had only emboldened her.

Shaking her head, she looked at him, puzzled. “Your Highness, I don’t understand. I do not think I’ve been ungrateful.”

Her trembling voice calmed as she gazed quietly at the face level with hers, cold and desolate as winter ice, deepening the darkness in her heart.

“You don’t know? You dare tell me you don’t know?” His hands, supporting his weight, clenched into fists, the sound of knuckles cracking sharp in the silence.

Resigned, she closed her eyes. If he meant to hit her, she would accept it—bear it, and it would pass.

But the fist she expected to strike her landed instead on the wall, its dull, cracking sound echoing in her ears. She opened her eyes in disbelief to find Duan Nanyu before her.

His once icy face now darkened with rage, and Yun Xueyan was so shaken she could not utter a word.

He glared fiercely at her, and for a moment he wished he had struck her, sent her away. Frustrated, he frowned, glancing at his bloodied right hand pressed against the wall, the gloom in his brow only deepening.