Ruan Mianmian paused, set down her needlework, and said softly, “To keep my family safe in the Duke’s manor until I was married, I had to pretend to be harmless.”
“I’m a prince,” Lin Zhuo said, displeased. “Stronger than any duke’s house. Yet you dared to drop the act on our wedding night? What’s that supposed to mean—do you take me for a sick cat just because I haven’t shown my claws?”
“I don’t know,” Ruan Mianmian replied with a hint of mischief. “Though Your Highness always wears that cold, stern look—like a stepfather, really—I just feel that deep down you’re kind and reasonable. We can talk things through and come to an arrangement that benefits us both.”
Lin Zhuo: … Stepfather? Kind and reasonable? A mutually beneficial arrangement?Wonderful. He hadn’t even begun to dote on her, yet his princess was already showing signs of becoming utterly lawless.
“Since we’re talking about this,” Ruan Mianmian continued, “I should remind Your Highness of your promise. Tomorrow, when we return to my family home, if the chance arises, please help me see that matter through.”
“Don’t worry,” Lin Zhuo said, slowly finishing his tea. “It’s just two people. I doubt the Duke’s household would dare embarrass me over something so small.”
“I trust Your Highness,” Ruan Mianmian said with a bright smile. “Oh, and could you find me a particularly reliable person? I’d like him to fetch something from the village for me and deliver a message to one of my uncles.”
Lin Zhuo snorted. “I came here for one cup of tea, and you’ve already dragged me into all this. Do you think I’ll ever dare set foot in Anle Pavilion again?”
Ruan Mianmian laughed openly. “If you want to go to Qinghui Pavilion, just say so. Why bother with all this roundabout talk? Do I look that oblivious?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He stretched lazily, but before he could finish, a voice came from outside—Chunfen announcing, “Your Highness, someone from the palace has arrived. His Majesty requests your presence immediately.”
“What now?” Lin Zhuo rubbed his forehead and stood up. Ruan Mianmian quickly put down her needlework and helped him fasten his cloak, saying softly, “Safe travels, Your Highness. I won’t see you off.”
Lin Zhuo twitched his lips. “I’m just going to the palace, not marching to war. Is that really necessary?”
Ruan Mianmian smiled lightly. “It’s only a figure of speech. No need to take it seriously.”
Lin Zhuo: …
“Madam, His Highness and Fourth Young Lady’s carriage is already on the way. It should arrive within a quarter-hour. The Old Madam asks that you go over quickly.”
“Alright, I know.”
Madam Chang turned once before her mirror, making sure everything was in order, then hurried out. Midway through the doorway, she seemed to recall something and asked in a low voice, “What are that woman and her son doing now?”
Ginkgo quickly replied, “Still in their rooms, Madam. I didn’t send anyone to inform them. I’d think, given the occasion, they’d have the sense to stay put. How could a concubine have the face to meet His Highness? Does she really think she’s his mother-in-law?”
“That’s what I thought,” Madam Chang said. “Yunniang isn’t someone without sense of propriety.”
She stepped down the stairs and added, “Still, we’d better be cautious. Send someone to keep an eye on them. After all, now that her daughter has risen so high, she may not be content to stay quiet.”
“Yes, Madam,” Ginkgo said, and after summoning a few young maids to give discreet instructions, she jogged after Madam Chang.
In the birthday hall of Old Madam Hu, the scene was bustling and grand. The room was packed so tightly that when Lin Zhuo and Ruan Mianmian entered, the air itself felt stifling.
Everyone rose to greet them. Lin Zhuo nodded politely to each in turn, exchanging the required courtesies until Old Madam Hu finally spoke up.
“Enough, everyone’s been seen. The room’s getting too warm. Third daughter-in-law, lead the others out.”
A woman responded promptly and gestured for the crowd to withdraw. In moments, half the guests had dispersed like the tide receding.
“His Highness’s visit is a rare honor,” Old Madam Hu said with a laugh. “These country folk aren’t used to such grandeur—they just wanted a glimpse to share in your glory.”
Ruan Mianmian kept her head bowed, but inwardly she sneered: Ha! Showing off before the prince without a shred of decorum. What a farce. A family this disorganized can’t even command its own kin, yet dreams of lasting through the ages by relying on women? Keep dreaming.
Back at the Duke’s manor, Ruan Mianmian once again became the delicate “little white flower,” head lowered, eyes demure, her voice faint and breathy—as though too weak to finish a sentence.
Aside from his mother, Consort Li, no woman had ever truly stirred Lin Zhuo’s indifferent heart.
When he first met her, she had been that little white flower—and he hadn’t minded. Later, when the little white flower revealed her true self—a lively, spirited little lamb—he hadn’t minded that either.
But now, watching that same lamb disguise herself once more as a fragile bloom, he found himself vaguely irritated.
The lively, clever lamb was far more interesting, far more charming than this meek facade. The Duke’s household didn’t even realize how precious a gem they’d lost—a bunch of blind fools.
His annoyance was unreasonable, but as a royal prince, did Prince Xiang need a reason to be displeased? Of course not.
On the surface, his manners remained impeccable. It wasn’t until near noon, after Madam Chang had arranged the luncheon, that Lin Zhuo casually asked, “Why don’t I see the Lady Yunniang or your younger son?”
Madam Chang’s polite smile faltered. She glanced at Ruan Mianmian, who looked just as startled, then quickly cast a fleeting glance at Lin Zhuo before lowering her head again.
Suspicion pricked at Madam Chang’s heart, but she smiled smoothly and said, “Yunniang caught a chill and didn’t wish to pass her illness to Your Highness. She also needs rest, so I asked Jian’er to attend her. If Mianmian is worried, she can visit after the meal.”
“I didn’t—ah, yes, as Madam says,” Ruan Mianmian murmured hastily.
Lin Zhuo said evenly, “I heard from Mianmian that she lived on the estate most of her life. I suppose her stepmother and brother must find it difficult to adjust to the household here.”
“This is their home,” Madam Chang said sharply, unease creeping into her tone. “What’s there to adjust to? They live comfortably. Yunniang prefers peace and quiet; aside from her own attendants, I ensure no one disturbs them.”
“If they’re so comfortable,” Lin Zhuo replied coolly, “why would Yunniang fall ill right after Mianmian’s wedding? Mianmian is now a princess—her stepmother should be full of joy, not bedridden. It seems she’s more suited to the countryside. As it happens, I have several estates on the outskirts of the capital. One of them is near a hot spring, very peaceful and pleasant. I intend to have her and her son move there to recuperate. What do Old Madam and Madam think?”
It was a stroke of genius—a blow from the heavens itself.
Ruan Mianmian lifted her head in feigned shock, stealing a sideways glance at the old matriarch and Madam Chang. Both wore expressions as though they’d swallowed eggs whole. The sight filled her with glee.
Good job, Your Highness, she thought silently, giving Lin Zhuo an invisible thumbs-up.
(End of Chapter)