The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 35
Time flowed like an arrow released from a taut bowstring, and before anyone knew it, the day of the martial tournament had arrived.
“Whew.”
One who took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
-Clack, clack.
One who kept drawing and sheathing their sword restlessly.
“Hahahaha! I’ve been waiting for a chance like this!”
One who laughed loudly, as if trying to shake off tension by making an even greater racket.
Even one who chewed their lips anxiously, darting their eyes this way and that.
The participants gathered in the central training ground of the palace displayed all manner of expressions.
But at a certain moment, as if by mutual agreement, their gazes converged on a single spot.
The elevated platform not far from the training ground.
The single chair positioned there.
It was a modest chair of average size—neither extravagantly ornate nor imposingly grand.
Yet the one who would sit there was different.
-Boom! Boom! Boom!
With a deep drumbeat echoing somewhere in the training ground, a palace servant’s voice soared into the sky.
“Her Highness the Princess arrives!”
As soon as the servant closed his mouth, an immediate hush fell over the training ground.
A small, slender figure wavered behind the platform—then soon, the princess revealed herself.
She was the one who had made knights from foreign lands, longing just once to catch a glimpse of her, throw themselves into reckless revelry like moths drawn to flame.
Olivia, as she ascended the platform, was dressed with a simplicity matching the chair behind her.
Having come straight from clearing away a mountain of paperwork, she could hardly be expected to appear in finery.
Indeed, her attendants had clung to her feet, pleading desperately.
“Your Highness, please at least change your attire!”
“A cloak, if nothing else—a cloak!”
“Your Highness, just once, grace your lips with rouge!”
Of course, Olivia dismissed all their pleas with a single wave of her hand.
There are times when formal attire is necessary.
Even in rags one may shine—but when adorned with jewels, one shines all the brighter.
It was simply not that time now.
The sole purpose of this martial tournament was singular:
to have Cryer exert just enough strength to silence the murmurers and those engaging in dangerous nighttime antics.
Thus, Olivia had no need now for dazzling jewels.
For a single, overwhelming aura—wrapping her slender frame and radiating from near her fragile-looking ankles—rendered all such trappings utterly meaningless.
Olivia looked down upon the densely packed crowd in the palace’s central training ground with eyes of piercing blue, and they gazed up at her.
-Gulp.
Someone’s Adam’s apple bobbed as they swallowed hard.
The last scion of the Bolshayk imperial bloodline.
The sole heir of the house said to have walked alongside the continent since its dawn.
A faint breeze brushed past her cheek; in the profound silence where even breaths seemed absent, only the intermittent rustling of leaves rubbing against each other could be heard.
Olivia’s lips parted.
“The martial tournament begins.”
-Boom! Boom-boom!
Hardly had her words ended when drums thundered through the air and pierced the heavens.
Then Olivia raised her hand, the drumming ceased, and she exhaled deeply before crying out:
“To you all!”
Each participant pressed their weapon to their chest and bowed deeply toward her, and her voice descended over their heads:
“Good fortune.”
-Thud!
In the next instant, the ground began to tremble with the sound of stomping feet.
-Thud, thud-thud.
-Thud-thud-thud.
All tournament participants simultaneously raised their right legs and stamped the earth.
What began as uneven, individual stomps soon unified into a single, earth-shaking rhythm.
Expressions of exhilaration, anticipation, and tension mingled on every face.
Though it was merely the sound of feet striking the ground, somehow it stirred their hearts and set their blood boiling.
Even those standing at a distance around the training ground felt their own hearts pounding in unison.
“Form ranks!”
Thus began the first match.
-Clang!
-Skreee!
For several minutes, the clashing of swords and the screeching of blades sliding against each other filled the air.
Within mere minutes, the outcome became unmistakably clear to all, prompting the commander of the Imperial Knights, who served as judge, to shout:
“Enough!”
Immediately, both fighters froze, and a victor was swiftly decided.
Watching the first match, a certain knight muttered discontentedly:
“So when they say ‘enough,’ you really have to stop.”
Though real blades were permitted—as this was a contest to measure skill, not a battle of life and death—participants were strictly required to cease fighting the moment the judge cried “Enough.”
While minor wounds were tolerated, killing or permanently maiming an opponent was strictly forbidden.
Olivia herself had nailed down this rule: foreign knights brawling to the death within the empire would only cause headaches.
An aristocratic lady who had watched the first match with little interest whispered behind her fan:
“Who do you think will win?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Indeed. This tournament began without even holding preliminary rounds—an unusual move.”
“Not to mention it includes knights… ahem, ‘knights’ from foreign lands.”
A sneer curled the lips of the one who spoke the word “knights,” and those nearby wore similar expressions.
“We’re in for some dull fights.”
“But at least we’ll get to see that famous knight, won’t we?”
“Ah yes, him.”
Though they fell silent after that remark, there wasn’t a soul present who didn’t know exactly who “him” meant.
As if by agreement, they scanned the crowded training ground for “him,” yet from afar all they could see were countless heads of varying hair colors.
Remarkably, a few among them managed to gracefully crane their necks and pinpoint the silvery hue.
The unnamed knight of Norden whom Her Highness the Princess had plucked—yes, quite literally plucked—from the tournament.
So taken was she with him that she kept him hidden away; all that was known of him were his hair and eye color, and his exquisitely sculpted face said to have stolen the princess’s gaze at first sight.
Rumors occasionally slipped through—describing him not as untamed, but as a wild beast beyond domestication.
“Hmm… I don’t see him.”
“With so many people, it’s hard to spot anyone…”
Unlike the refined, leisurely chatter of nobles at the training ground’s periphery, the air within the arena was thick with coarse, breathless whispers.
“Damn it, that bastard! As if he deserves the title of knight—just got himself a new sword.”
“Hah! Look who’s talking. You’re no different!”
Some twitched their bodies with flashing eyes, while others simply stared them down intently.
And then there were those who, though falling far short of even the “k” in “knight,” had still dressed extravagantly in hopes of catching the princess’s eye.
Soon, a voice rang out among them:
“Where is that guy?”
Before the words even finished, the eyes of every participant in the arena darted about feverishly.
Yet “that guy” was nowhere to be found in their field of vision, prompting another to speak:
“Could it be he didn’t show up?”
“Impossible! Her Highness the Princess herself ordered it—all foreign knights must participate!”
At this indignant outburst, a knight flaunting his smooth golden hair clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, there’s always an exception, isn’t there?”
Since this tournament was hosted by Her Highness, if that fellow—who monopolized her attention—had merely whispered a few sweet nothings into her ear…
But his thoughts were cut short.
-Krrrrr.
From among the many gates leading into the training ground, the largest one began to open, groaning loudly.
That gate, used only when moving large troop formations, had remained firmly shut.
Now, the massive door—so heavy it required a dozen well-trained soldiers to open—slowly began to part.
Everyone in the training ground, and even the nobles sipping tea at the periphery, stared wide-eyed at the slowly opening gate.
-Kraaang!
When the enormous, dreadfully heavy gate finally swung fully open—
“That person…!”
“Good heavens!”
Gasps of shock erupted not only within the training ground but also from the outer edges.
Though it was broad daylight, his silver hair gleamed with the sharp brilliance of a crescent moon, and his crimson eyes flashed ominously.
Cryer strolled leisurely through the wide-open gate.
-Kaboom!
Soon after, the colossal gate slammed shut behind him, kicking up a cloud of dust—yet not a single person blinked.
No, not a single soul could tear their eyes away from him.
-Thud… thud…
How was it possible that his footsteps, which should have been inaudible, echoed so clearly in their ears?
“Did he… open that gate alone?”
“That can’t be…”
Nobles familiar with the gate’s nature were left speechless.
And the participants in the training ground—
They dared not even breathe properly.
A violent, swirling killing intent emanating from him was already coiling around their throats.
Step by step.
As Cryer advanced toward them, their faces blanched and veins throbbed on their foreheads.
They longed to flee—but not a finger twitched. They feared that even a flutter of eyelashes might send their heads flying.
They were prey, and Cryer was the apex predator ready to snap their necks at any moment.
The second match had already begun, yet even the fighters locked in combat stood frozen, their faces pale and eyes fixed on Cryer.
He alone owned that space.
And unlike all the others, only Olivia remained free—her lips curling upward on one side.
Had Cryer seen it, he surely would have asked her, “What’s that vile smile for?”
Well done.
Her appraisal of him—rendering the entire training ground into chaos without uttering a word or swinging a blade—was exceedingly brief.
Of course, she too felt the waves of killing intent radiating from him against her skin.
But it was fine.
Because his killing intent deliberately veered away from her alone.
She didn’t know how he managed it—but he did, and Olivia breathed easily by herself.
A few minutes before the tournament began.
“You don’t need to hide your strength just to put on a show during the tournament. No need to arrive at the same time as the others or listen to their pointless chatter.”
Wasn’t there always such an incident when someone like Cryer found himself in this sort of situation?
“I’m saying there’s no reason to endure some random fool’s nonsense while waiting around just to make a flashy move during the match.”
Though it was doubtful Cryer had ever tolerated anyone’s nonsense even once…
Olivia shook her head and continued.
“Overwhelm them right from your entrance—leave them unable to breathe. They say even worms squirm when stepped on? Then step on them so hard they can’t even squirm.”
Cryer, who had been silently listening, bared his teeth in a fierce grin.
“I like that.”
And now—
Wasn’t this truly overwhelming?
Olivia swallowed a satisfied smile—and soon, her eyes met Cryer’s.
Ex-husband Wants Reconciliation
One-line summary: Chasing the wife to the crematorium (making an effort to attract someone who has become indifferent), the female lead doesn’t look back, the second male lead takes the position.
Intro:
To repay the kindness of the older generation, Su Mu crossed into a female-dominated world and became a live-in daughter-in-law of the Yan family, single-handedly saving the Yan family from fire and water.
But her husband, Yan Jiyue, the eldest son of the Yan family, treated her with sarcasm and never showed her a good face.
It wasn’t until after Su Mu’s death that this pampered and arrogant young master shed a few fake tears and pretended to want to die for love.
This life’s kindness was enough. If there was a next life, she would definitely kick Yan Jiyue away.
Who knew that the heavens would be so kind as to allow her to be reborn, returning to the time when she had just married into the Yan family.
Su Mu glanced at the Yan eldest son, who still spoke coldly to her, and threw a divorce letter in front of him.
“Let’s divorce!”
***
Yan Jiyue never imagined that he would be reborn. He happily went to find Su Mu, wanting to make up for the mistakes he had made in his ignorant youth.
Wasn’t the reason the heavens allowed him to be reborn to let him reconcile with Su Mu?
But when he pushed open the door to Su Mu’s room, the person lying on the bed was another man.
Su Mu’s personal attendant, Xie Yi.
Yan Jiyue hated him so much that his teeth itched. In front of Su Mu, Xie Yi was a gentle and considerate whisperer of sweet nothings, but in reality, he was vicious-hearted and deliberately sabotaged their husband and wife relationship.
In the previous life, it was he who secretly hid in Su Mu’s coffin and committed suicide, stealing a step ahead of him to be buried with Su Mu.
Yan Jiyue’s eyes were filled with hatred as he cursed, “What kind of thing are you? Your background is lowly, what right do you have to occupy Su Mu?”
Xie Yi looked at the sleeping Su Mu and no longer pretended to be a whisperer of sweet nothings.
He proudly stuck out his belly, “I have the right because my belly is capable of giving the Wife-master a daughter.”
***
Yan Jiyue was consumed with jealousy. He spread rumors that Xie Yi had once been branded with the mark of a “harlot” on his chest.
But on the night Xie Yi cut off the flesh bearing that mark, Su Mu suddenly realized something was amiss.
“How did you know the exact moment I was poisoned? And why did you show up a month early?”
Xie Yi remained silent, blood from his wound soaking through his robes. His sapphire eyes brimmed with anguish – or was it just a flawless act?
Between a once-arrogant husband now seeking redemption, and a gentle soul willing to die for her – who truly held the darkest secrets? And could it be that Su Mu and Yan Jiyue weren’t the only ones given a second chance at life…?
[Reading Guide]
1. True divorce, chasing the wife to the crematorium, the female lead doesn’t look back, the male lead is Xie Yi.
2. The ex-husband did not cheat, he just realized too late and didn’t realize that he liked the female lead.
_____
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