In the blink of an eye, Lin Yao had already been living in the Great Chu Dynasty for over ten days. The two young maidservants sent by the palace to attend to her dutifully came to wake her every morning, trying to help her wash up and dress.
In the modern world, Lin Yao had always been pressed for time as a PhD student. To keep things simple, she’d kept her hair short and neat for years—never longer than shoulder-length.
But now, the jet-black hair on this body reached all the way past her waist.
Several times, she’d crawled out of bed half-asleep, only to jerk her head up and nearly strangle herself on the mattress.
Gazing into the bronze mirror at that long hair—dry and split at the ends—Lin Yao raised the scissors and chopped off over four inches without hesitation.
She looked at the black hair now falling just above her waist in the mirror and gave her head a satisfied toss. The heavy, scalp-tugging weight vanished instantly.
No more worrying about it dragging on the floor when she used the toilet!
But the little maidservant still came at her with an oil-slicked comb, trying to pin her hair into a bun. Lin Yao recoiled, leaning back and waving her hands frantically.
“But miss, it’s against propriety to leave your hair unpinned…”
“I’m already locked up in here—what’s the point of propriety? It’s not like I’m seeing anyone anyway. Leaving it loose is just fine.” Lin Yao refused flat-out. “No need to come braid my hair anymore. I’ll handle it myself.”
With the maidservants dismissed, Lin Yao’s days stretched into vast emptiness.
Before, her schedule had been precise to the minute: classes, meetings, revising papers, running experiments, part-time work… It was a life of relentless grinding.
Now, suddenly cut off from everything, with nothing to do but eat and sleep, Lin Yao was bored out of her mind.
Since she had nothing else to do, she might as well clean up.
So every day after breakfast, her first order of business was to have the maidservant boil a big vat of hot water.
She soaked soap pods with wild mint leaves picked from the backyard, brewing herself a batch of “cooling, de-greasing shampoo,” and washed her hair until it was spotless, fluffy, and fresh.
Around noon, she’d drag a chair into the courtyard and, basking in the direct sunlight, engage in a bit of photosynthesis while air-drying her long hair—now free of any greasy smell, carrying only the scent of soap pods and mint.
“Ah well, since I’m here, I might as well make the best of it.” She squinted up at the square patch of sky above the four walls, like some old retiree. “No point overthinking. I’ll deal with whatever comes my way!”
However, compared to Lin Yao’s leisurely days, Chu Liyuan was having a much rougher time. Ever since he’d saved Lin Yao that day, he’d realized something was wrong with him.
He kept involuntarily recalling that image: her face pale and ashen, breath faint, collapsing limply into his arms.
The situation had been dire, and in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t thought twice—he’d leaned down, pried open her jaw, and breathed his qi directly into her…
That sensation was like a curse he couldn’t shake: her lips had been cool, carrying the chill of near-death, yet unexpectedly soft—a softness unlike anything he could remember feeling.
Every time he thought of it, he felt an urge to smash something.
He, Chu Liyuan, had merely saved a dying woman—what was there to dwell on?
But his body was more honest than his mouth. He couldn’t help sending someone to Jingyou Pavilion to inquire.
“That Lin Yao… has she woken up?”
Inside the study, a young eunuch knelt trembling: “Reporting to the Fourth Prince, she’s awake. The imperial physician says she’s out of danger.”
Chu Liyuan feigned indifference with an “Mm,” picking up his teacup and skimming the foam.
“Has she eaten?”
“Y-yes, she has.”
“What did she eat? How was her appetite?”
The young eunuch froze, staring at him as if he were some kind of monster.
Chu Liyuan froze too, his hand holding the teacup suspended mid-air.
What was he asking?
Was he concerned about whether that woman—allied with the Crown Prince—was eating properly?
“Get out!” He waved his hand in a fury of embarrassment, splashing half a cup of tea.
The eunuch, as if granted amnesty, scrambled away on all fours.
Chu Liyuan sat alone in the empty study, staring blankly at the tea leaves swirling in his cup.
After staring for a while, he decided he needed to take a walk to dispel this inexplicable gloom.
But by the time he came to his senses, his feet had already, as if by habit, stopped right outside the red-lacquered wooden gate of Jingyou Pavilion.
“Damn it…”
He muttered a curse under his breath and was about to turn and leave in embarrassment when a crisp call suddenly came from beyond the courtyard wall:
“Chu Liyuan?”
Chu Liyuan’s body jolted violently, his half-taken step freezing in place.
How many years had it been? Aside from the Emperor, no one dared to address him by his given name.
Even those who looked down on him most had to respectfully call him “Fourth Prince” to his face.
And she dared to call him by name?!
He whirled around furiously, ready to unleash his princely authority on this reckless woman—but the words died in his throat the moment he took in the scene in the courtyard, deflating like a pricked balloon.
The noonday sun was perfect. In the courtyard of Jingyou Pavilion, Lin Yao had just washed her hair.
Her damp, jet-black tresses cascaded over her shoulders like silk, still dripping with water beads. She wore only a plain white inner garment, no outer robe, making her look exceptionally delicate—yet carrying an air of vibrant, languid ease.
The eyes that rumor claimed were “blind” were now startlingly clear, fixed unwaveringly on him.
“You saved me that day, and I never had the chance to thank you.” Her tone was calm yet sincere, as if the tense interrogation that day had never happened.
Chu Liyuan deliberately tried to avoid her gaze, but his eyes disobediently landed on her pale, slender neck—where faint red marks from the allergic reaction still lingered.
His heart raced abnormally fast, yet his tongue remained as sharp as ever: “Thank me? If you died in front of me, you’d want Father to think I was the one who killed you?”
Lin Yao seemed to have anticipated his response and wasn’t the least bit offended. Instead, she handed him a cup of steaming tea: “Why are you always so hot-tempered? Drink some mint tea to cool down.”
“What the hell is mint tea?” Chu Liyuan eyed suspiciously the hand she held out mid-air. He’d seen ginseng tea, seen bitter tea, but never water with two common wild leaves floating in it.
He didn’t take it, his eyes full of distrust.
“I found some wild mint in the backyard and picked a few leaves to steep in water.” Seeing that he wouldn’t take it, Lin Yao simply pushed the cup closer, a hint of disdain creeping into her voice. “Your tea here is too strong—all that over-fermented stale taste. It gives me heart palpitations.”
Chu Liyuan furrowed his brow, took the cup with skepticism, and took a tentative sip.
“Ugh—!”
The pungent, brain-piercingly cool flavor shot straight to the top of his head. His handsome face twisted in disgust, and he nearly spat it out: “What the hell is this? It tastes like Golden Wound Medicine!? Are you trying to poison me?”
Lin Yao shook her head helplessly, took the cup back, poured herself some, and drank it with visible enjoyment, letting out a satisfied sigh.
“I thought entering the imperial palace meant I’d get to drink some ‘Pre-Rain Dragon Well’ or some premium tea brewed with morning dew.” She laughed self-deprecatingly. “But all I got was this bottom-of-the-barrel tea dust… Honestly, it doesn’t even compare to the nine-ninety-nine jasmine tea I used to order online.”
Chu Liyuan caught the strange word but quickly dismissed it as the ravings of a madwoman.
He sneered, flicking a speck off his robes: “You, the abandoned daughter of the Prime Minister’s estate, sure know a lot. ‘Pre-Rain Dragon Well’ yields only a few cups a year—that’s reserved for Father and the Crown Prince. You think you’re worthy of such a thing?”
At the mention of “Crown Prince,” his eyes darkened, and his tone grew even sharper: “As for jasmine tea—that fragrance is frivolous and seductive, unfit for refined company, and certainly not in line with palace rules. Lin Yao, I suggest you save yourself the trouble with all these unorthodox notions.”
Lin Yao let out a mocking snort, looking at him like he was an idiot: “What’s so unorthodox about a pot of jasmine tea? This palace is more pathetic than I thought—can’t even get a decent cup of tea. Looks like marrying you won’t exactly be a life of luxury.”
But those words froze Chu Liyuan in place.
“Marry him.”
Those three words struck like a thunderclap, detonating in a heart that had long been steeped in scheming and shadow.
It was as if only at this moment did he truly realize that this “blind, mute, crippled” woman from the Prime Minister’s estate—this woman who spoke nonsense and ignored all rules—was the person he would marry in a month’s time, the person who would take his surname.
One was the abandoned daughter of the Prime Minister’s estate; the other, the discarded son of the imperial family.
When he thought about it that way, they really were a match made in heaven—two miserable souls.
They would face each other morning and evening, share a bed, and even…
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Chu Liyuan’s darkly handsome face, and his ears began to burn uncontrollably.
He had never discussed “the future” with a woman at such close quarters, nor had he ever imagined someone would so matter-of-factly complain that his “life wouldn’t be a life of luxury.”
He didn’t even dare look at her again, afraid those eyes that seemed to see through everything would catch a glimpse of his thoughts.
Lin Yao, completely oblivious, was busy tending to her “slacker life.”
She lay back down on the makeshift lounger made of two armchairs pushed together, her head resting on the armrest, her wet black hair cascading down like a dark waterfall, giving off a fresh scent of mint in the sunlight.
“Fourth Prince, safe travels! No need to see you off!”
Her eyes closed, her voice lazy, carrying a worldly detachment: “For saving my life, this humble woman can only repay you with her hand in marriage. Though I don’t particularly want to marry you, and you probably don’t want to marry me either—but since we’ve both accepted the imperial decree, I suppose we’ll see each other at the wedding!”
Chu Liyuan clenched his fists, wanting to hurl a few harsh words to save face, but when he opened his mouth and caught sight of her hair spilling loose, all he could manage was: “…Madwoman!”
With that, he lifted his robes and strode away, his steps slightly unsteady, his retreating figure carrying a hint of fleeing in defeat.
Lin Yao listened to his footsteps fade into the distance, and the feigned ease on her face vanished instantly.
She opened her eyes, staring blankly into the void.
The truth was, she’d been waiting for this “chance encounter” for days.
She was a pragmatic person. Since escape wasn’t an option, she had to find the optimal solution within this new ecosystem.
“Impulsive by nature, quick to anger, but fundamentally simple at heart, easily swayed by emotions…”
Lin Yao sketched a mental portrait of this Fourth Prince, a faint, bitter smile curling at the corners of her lips.
“Though he seems like a decent short-term meal ticket, he’s bold but reckless, with no depth or cunning. In this man-eating palace, I’m afraid he won’t be able to protect me…”
Just as she was mulling this over, a sharp, high-pitched announcement suddenly rang out from beyond the door, shattering the stillness:
“The Crown Princess summons you—!”
The smile on Lin Yao’s lips vanished in an instant, her gaze turning cold.
What’s coming will come, sooner or later!