The wedding of Fourth Prince Chu Liyuan was ultimately set for one month after the Crown Prince’s nuptials.
According to the laws of Great Chu, a prince’s wedding required the full ceremony of the Three Letters and Six Rites—even under the tightest schedule, the entire process would take at least half a year.
Yet when it came to Chu Liyuan, the Ministry of Rites received an imperial edict to “simplify everything,” as if they could barely be bothered to go through the motions at all, and would have preferred to simply shove the bride into the bridal chamber and be done with it.
Jingyou Pavilion, in the western corner of the imperial palace, was the most remote and desolate place in the entire compound. Lin Yao had been under semi-confinement there since two days ago.
She was attended to daily, meals were delivered, but guards stood at the main gate. She didn’t know whether they would let her leave, and she wasn’t about to court trouble by testing it.
Today she slept until the sun was high in the sky, then stretched languidly: “Mmm… so this is what they call cold-palace life? Food and drink without a care—this is way more comfortable than editing code and writing papers every day!”
Lin Yao had taken advantage of these past three or four days to carefully sort through this body’s memories. Those memories came like film fragments—she couldn’t tell the chronological order, nor could she make out the faces of the people who appeared in them. Only overwhelming emotions remained, ones that left her feeling suffocated whenever she recalled them.
“It seems this Lin Yao didn’t have a great life before—nothing but unhappy memories…”
But today, the desolate Jingyou Pavilion suddenly seemed to spring into activity.
Early in the morning, maids from the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau came in to take her measurements. Just now, someone had arrived to announce that the wedding date was set for one month hence.
Though Lin Yao appeared perfectly at ease on the surface, inside she was beginning to panic.
In one month, the Emperor would marry her off to that Fourth Prince. That night in the great hall, she had seen the murderous intent in his eyes with her own eyes.
Marry him? Ha—she’d be lucky to survive the seventh day after the wedding.
Meanwhile, in the study of the Eastern Palace.
Chu Huaian sat alone before his desk, the tea in his hand long gone cold, while complex emotions churned in his heart.
In that final moment in the Imperial Study that night, he had clearly seen that face.
Eight years. He had thought she was dead, thought he would never see her again.
But fate had played a cruel joke on him—she had appeared without warning on his wedding night, veiled, dressed in bridal attire, lying on his marriage bed.
And he had personally sent her into the old fourth’s wolf den. His meticulously crafted counter-strike, every step aimed with precision—had struck her instead.
But he dared not go see her. If he visited that “fake Crown Princess” at Jingyou Pavilion at this critical juncture, would the Emperor suspect that he had turned the tables that night?
Nor could he be certain she was that Lin Yao, or whether this was another carefully laid trap by the old fourth…
Chu Huaian closed his eyes, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of his teacup.
In childhood, life in the palace had been stark and simple. Only when the Prime Minister’s eldest daughter came to stay at the palace would she run over to play with him. They would climb trees together, catch butterflies… and steal snacks!
“Huaian-gege, my mother won’t let me eat almond cakes—she says I’ll get sick if I do.” Little Yao blinked her big eyes at him.
“Who ever got sick from eating almond cakes?” Chu Huaian patted her head in disbelief.
Lin Yao then told him mysteriously: “I secretly tried a tiny bit myself—I coughed so hard it scared me to death! But I’m fine!” She giggled slyly, laughing like a little fox who’d stolen a piece of fruit.
“But my mother told me not to tell anyone, because she said someone might try to harm me! Huaian-gege, I only told you!”
Chu Huaian opened his eyes, a glimmer of light flashing through them.
Almonds!
That was a secret known only to him and Yao.
If she truly was Yao, she would have a reaction to almond cakes; if she wasn’t, then it was just a box of pastries—no one would suspect a thing.
He had a hundred ways to verify her identity: an imperial decree, a records check, or simply summoning a few old servants.
But Chu Huaian deliberately chose the most dangerous and most private method of all.
Because it was the only secret between them. Once it matched, he could no longer deceive himself.
“Someone,” he called, his voice returning to calm.
“Go to Guixiang Bakery and buy a box of osmanthus cakes—freshly made. Tell the shopkeeper to add a small amount of almond powder… and deliver them to Jingyou Pavilion.”
August, fair and clear.
But Jingyou Pavilion remained gloomy as ever; sunlight couldn’t penetrate the thick window paper.
Lin Yao took matters into her own hands, dragging two armchairs into the courtyard and pushing them together, padding them with a thick cotton quilt, and basking in the warm sun like she was at a spa.
When Fourth Prince Chu Liyuan kicked open the courtyard gate, Lin Yao was fast asleep, completely oblivious.
His face was dark and sinister. He had come with murderous intent to warn this woman who dared scheme against him—but the sight before him made the harsh words die in his throat.
In the center of the courtyard, there was no trembling and weeping, no sorrowful complaining.
The eldest Miss Lin was sprawled out on the chairs, limbs splayed in every direction.
The two chairs didn’t fit together perfectly, and since they weren’t long enough, her slender, straight legs were casually draped over the armrest.
As she shifted restlessly in her sleep, the layered skirts slipped down to the bend of her knees like falling petals, revealing a stretch of porcelain-fine calf that caught the glaring sunlight with a faint gleam.
Chu Liyuan’s body froze mid-step.
This woman… utterly improper!
Counting this time, he had now stumbled upon her in such disarray twice in a row.
Last time, in the Crown Prince’s bridal chamber, she had looked like a shattered marionette, her face full of confusion and humiliation; now, she slept with such ease amidst the spring garden, like a languid immortal who had accidentally brushed against the mortal world.
Chu Liyuan felt an inexplicable heat rush to his head, and he awkwardly turned his face away.
“Wake her up at once!”
The palace maid, startled, hurried over to call her softly, but Lin Yao had been weak lately and slept deeply to make up for it—she simply did not stir.
Growing impatient, Chu Liyuan let out a cold snort, stretched out his long leg, and gave the leg of the grand armchair a heavy kick.
“Ah!!”
The sudden sensation of falling jolted Lin Yao awake, and she landed flat on the ground with a thud.
Instinctively, she grabbed wildly at anything to steady herself, only to find her hand closing around something hard again.
Rubbing her eyes, she looked up to see Chu Liyuan standing before her, his face ashen, his gaze as if he wanted to devour her.
Lin Yao glanced down—what she had grabbed was, once again, this man’s waist pendant!
“Lin! Yao!!”
Chu Liyuan practically ground the words out through clenched teeth, glaring at the pendant in her hand—it was a brand new one he had just changed into!
“You woman, are you addicted to stealing pendants?!”
Lin Yao looked at the pendant, then at Chu Liyuan’s ears reddening with fury, and explained helplessly, “Fourth Prince, neither the pendant that day nor the pendant today was taken by me on purpose. I am truly wronged!”
Then she casually shoved the pendant back into his belt, her fingertips inadvertently brushing across his waist.
Chu Liyuan recoiled a full step as if burned by fire: “How dare you! Haven’t you shamed me enough?”
Lin Yao looked at this man radiating danger from every pore, and her heart turned bitter.
That pendant had clearly been shoved into her hands by the Crown Prince. Chu Liyuan was no fool—he had probably long since lumped her and the Crown Prince together as one faction.
“Fourth Prince,” her voice returned to calm, “I am a victim here too.”
Chu Liyuan stared at her, and amid the murderous intent in his eyes, a flicker of confusion suddenly appeared: Wait… wasn’t this woman blind and mute?!
Just then, the eunuch attending the Crown Prince approached: “These osmanthus cakes are a gift from His Highness to the eldest Miss Lin…”