The Appointed Prince Charming (2)

Si Huang couldn't be bothered to help the boy up from the ground. He had brought this upon himself.

Even though she wanted to gain the good reputation of a magnanimous person… was this really necessary? Si Huang's eyes flickered. She had no interest in touching someone who treated her with hostility simply for that small glimmer of profit.

Once all unnecessary personnel had left the stage, Si Huang slowly sat in the exquisite wooden wheelchair.

She adopted a very laid-back attitude and relaxed her entire body as she sat in the wheelchair. Everyone was waiting for her performance, but the protagonist had closed her eyes.

The darkness that came when she closed her eyes was not enough to cover up the lights coming from above.

Si Huang sighed internally. She was back on stage once again, the only place where she had been able to let loose and feel free in her past life.

One second, two seconds, three seconds… 10 seconds. 20 seconds had passed. Slowly, the spectators began to whisper among themselves.

"Has he forgotten his lines?"

"I think he's just being pretentious!"

"Shut up! I'm definitely going to watch this show if he gets cast as Mr. Qianji!"

"Ah! He's about to open his eyes!"

The students in the classroom collectively shut their mouths when they noticed some movement on Si Huang's end.

However, Si Huang acted as if she had been woken up by their noise. She slowly opened her eyes but stopped indolently mid-way and didn't move at all. She looked askance at some corner and moved her lips. "What's up with the racket?"

"Gasp!"

That kind of voice was that? It was too provocative!

This voice, although already naturally blessed, sounded nasal, as if he had just woken up from a nap. The sound of it was casually, gently circling their ears, numbing half of their bodies.

"Mm?" Si Huang turned her head to the side, keeping her eyes on that empty space without an overly-exaggerated expression on her face. One might even say that there was so much indifference on her face that there was no expression on it at all. However, the audience felt as if she really was looking at someone respectfully speaking to her while Si Huang listened quietly.

Five seconds later, Si Huang turned her gaze away, reached out with her hand, and gently flicked her legs as if a flower had fallen on her lap.

That was right!

The audience consisted of students who had read the script countless times. Si Huang's actions reminded them that this scene was taking place in Mr. Qianji's courtyard. He was having a nap under a Chinese snowball, so it made sense that a blossom would fall on his lap.

Before the audience could gasp at Si Huang's control over the overall situation, they were all drawn to her next casual response. "How is the fate of the country any of my business? You've got the wrong guy. As you can see, I'm nothing but a cripple."

It was the same line in the script, but given Si Huang's devil-may-care tone, she might as well have been commenting on the weather.

Mr. Qianji had been a cripple from a young age. How could he be so lackadaisical about it?

Everyone thought that Si Huang had lost, but when they saw the expression on her face, they were left speechless from shock.

The young man in the wheelchair had carelessly pointed out his deepest agony and flaw. His head was lowered, so no one could see his eyes. Only the corners of his lips were curved slightly upward. That was a smile! He was unconcerned about the fate of the nation and uninterested in the person who had arrived, yet he had his eyes half-closed and was staring into a corner and smiling gently.

Then, as if a butterfly was dancing in the air in search of floral nectar, his gaze moved ever so slightly and his attention and smile seemed to be directed to that tiny living thing.

He'd only said those words to brush off the group who had come to seek his help. Wasn't that right?

Mr. Qianji never had any use for anyone's sympathy. He had never been ashamed of his handicap.

His very presence has always been out of reach for countless others, only to be highly revered by them. He was independent, confident, dignified, proud of himself, and always striving for self-improvement. Why should anyone pity him?

At that moment, the audience felt as if the young man was underneath a Chinese snowball, wearing long, wide-sleeved, snow-white robes with a plum blossom print. He hadn't come of age yet, so he hadn't tied up his hair. His soft, shiny, ink-black hair cascaded down his shoulders and back. He had an incomparably beautiful face and unparalleled skill when it came to mechanical invention. He was highly intelligent but was a lazy glutton too.

Suddenly, the fingertips of his outstretched right arm shuddered as if they had been tugged by a thin thread.

Ah… The audience once again came to a realization. Mr. Qianzi wasn't just crippled in both legs. He was deaf in both ears too. He observed his surroundings through an arc—by condensing his internal power into thin, micro-threads spread around him and tying them to his fingers. Whenever someone was nearby and touched his arc, the threads would pull at his fingers as well. That way, he would sense their presence.

He turned to the side and looked at the staircase on the stage. The look in his eyes made it seem as if someone really was approaching him.

"His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has arrived!" someone in the audience announced excitedly.

He startled a lot of people. Then, they understood. According to the script, shouldn't the Crown Prince of the Feng Dynasty be arriving right now?

"Mr. Qianji" on stage did not hear the announcement. He moved his gaze upward, settling on the face of the non-existent Crown Prince of the Feng Dynasty. Based on the height of his wheelchair, it made sense that he would be looking up at a fully-grown adult.

Mr. Qianji was deaf. How was he supposed to hear anyone? He relied on sight and lip-reading.

"Shut up."

This tone was a stark contrast to the previous boy's enraged reaction.

In fact, there wasn't even a single hint of anger, let alone rage, in his voice. It was more like an annoyance, as though this was a noisy little fly that could be easily swatted away.

"Time's up." Director Liu spoke up right on time.

The audience felt as if they had woken up from a dream. They had strange looks on their faces. Their thoughts lingered on the last scene of Si Huang's performance. According to the script… the Crown Prince of the Feng Dynasty should have been slapped and be forcing himself to hold back the blood in his mouth.

Si Huang, who was still on stage, was startled too, as if she was still in a dream. She closed and opened her eyes. The look in her eyes, which belonged to Mr. Qianji, disappeared without a trace in two seconds, and her eyes became the eyes of a careless youth of the modern age again.

Director Liu watched the change in Si Huang's expression. His heart was racing so fast that his tanned face looked flushed. His voice was hoarse as he asked, "What is your name?"

"Si Huang." Si Huang stood up and faced Director Liu.

She was not going to be "Si Huang the Puppet" in this lifetime. She wanted to take this name away and make sure that anyone who saw or heard it would think only of her. She wanted to bury the long-dead eldest son of the Si Family so that no one would ever remember his existence again.