“Miss, who came here last night? He wouldn’t go around spreading rumors about you, would he?
Miss, maybe we shouldn’t paint anymore.” Baozhu was genuinely afraid. Haven’t enough people already died because of these rumors?
She spoke, yet still lit another lamp, worried the dim light might strain the young lady’s eyes.
Jing Miaoyi set down her brush and rubbed her slightly sore shoulders.
“Perhaps it was some stray cat. Zhao Jie’s guards were sent, right? Don’t worry, nothing will happen.”
Baozhu didn’t understand. She really couldn’t fathom why her mistress was painting this screen.
Who was this man?
Certainly not Shen Jueming. Could it be His Majesty?
Baozhu gasped and covered her mouth—this couldn’t happen. Though this was her mistress’s private room, who knew if someone might barge in one day?
She hurried to the storage room to find a piece of cloth, intending to sew a proper cover so nothing would fall off carelessly.
“Baozhu, it’s late. Go rest.
By the way, tomorrow deliver the message to the Yan household. Tell them I invite them and their husband to my small residence for a warm gathering three days from now.”
“Yes, Miss. You should rest early as well.” Baozhu left, just as she poured water for washing her face into the grass, when someone leapt over the wall and entered.
“Th…there’s a person—”
Before she could shout, a palm struck the back of her neck, and she fainted.
Lin Hui Emperor quietly gave Wei Buyan a satisfied glance.
“When it comes to sneaking over walls, you truly have experience. This aura of righteousness of mine is still too hard to hide.”
Wei Buyan: “……”
The emperor remained as confident as ever.
“Jing Miaoyi.”
A sudden voice behind her made her hand slip. A teacup shattered as she tripped over a chair, falling straight toward the shards on the floor.
Just as she shut her eyes in fear, a strong force at her waist yanked her back into a powerful chest.
Familiar sandalwood scent.
Familiar voice.
“How do you plan to thank me?”
The emperor?
He had actually left the palace?
Jing Miaoyi feigned panic and struggled free. “I…did not expect Your Majesty’s arrival. I have not prepared a proper welcome. I hope Your Majesty will forgive me.”
The emperor’s narrow phoenix eyes glinted with mischief. “Are you hoping the whole Changle Ward will know I came to see you? Or do you regret it? Regret refusing my offer? If you wish to enter the palace, I cannot grant it—but for the Jing family of Qingzhou, your rank will not be low. I can make you a consort.
Which title would you like? Your Qingzhou Jing family is scholarly, excels in poetry and literature, respects rites, and is skilled in teaching. Why not choose one yourself?”
“Your Majesty,” Jing Miaoyi hurriedly interrupted his soliloquy, “I have never wished to enter the palace. Moreover, at this hour, Your Majesty should be in the Changsheng Hall, not leaving the palace. Coming here is improper.”
Ah…
How dull.
Such a soft, delicate voice should speak words that bring joy, yet instead it brings annoyance.
Truly, the Jing family lives up to its reputation—charming even in nagging.
“Jing Miaoyi, I am simply proper,” the young emperor said with pride, pulling her into his embrace. Her soft waist, the faint orchid fragrance—exactly as in his dreams.
I’ve truly gone overboard. If anyone else dared do this to me, I would have thrown them into the cold palace. Yet here I am, sneaking out of the palace to play the thief.
“Your Majesty,” Jing Miaoyi struggled, eyes shimmering with tears, “please do not act this way.”
“Your Majesty is a wise ruler. If others find out, it would damage your reputation. I do not wish for Your Majesty’s fame to be sullied.”
Lin Hui Emperor pinched her chin, forcing her to look at him.
Seeing her panicked yet alluring face, he smiled dangerously. “You are so selfless, thinking of me at such a time. As the saying goes, ‘a fair lady is the worthy mate of a gentleman.’ You are free; why not?”
“I…do not wish it.” She struggled and slipped from his embrace, accidentally colliding with the screen behind her.
Do not wish it?
Lin Hui Emperor frowned. How could it be that, as the emperor of Daqian, he is still less appealing than Shen Jueming?
The emperor was caught in unprecedented self-doubt.
What does she mean?
She prefers a scoundrel seeking wealth through selling his wife over a wise, brave, and handsome emperor?
Is she blind or deaf?
Or is it simply that she must follow the Jing family’s rules?
Not for the consort.
Is my noble consort truly a consort?
Moreover, a woman marrying into the palace as a second wife would become a consort—she would be the first in history.
If she bore an heir, I could even consider making her son crown prince.
Is there anything more honorable than this in the world?
The emperor looked at the painting on the screen behind her. “Move aside.”
Jing Miaoyi feigned panic, refusing. “Y-Your Majesty.”
“I said move.”
She pressed her lips tightly, like facing death, and stepped aside.
The painting was exquisite. Though the man had no facial features, it was breathtaking.
Every strand of hair was precise; even the texture of the clothing was visible. The complex landscape patterns on the fabric seemed embroidered rather than painted.
“Your brushwork.”
She nodded slowly.
“Your painting skill is truly remarkable, likely taught by your father.”
Jing Miaoyi was startled. Her father had never served in Qizhou within the capital; how did His Majesty know of his paintings?
“I saw your father’s work in my father’s study when I was young.”
Jing Miaoyi pressed her lips.
“Why did you not paint the facial features? Who is this?” The emperor’s tone hinted at jealousy. “Could it be…your damned ex-husband?”
“N-no,” she hurried to explain, then caught herself and fell silent.
Lin Hui Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned close to her ear. “Tell me, who did you paint?”
Her ears flushed red. She tried to escape, but her waist was restrained.
“Y-Your Majesty, no one.”
“Jing Miaoyi, how dare you deceive the emperor! Isn’t your family known for rules? A stranger’s image appears in an unmarried woman’s room.
If you do not provide a reasonable explanation, I can accuse you of violating propriety.”
Jing Miaoyi’s face turned pale, eyes brimming with tears—fragile, pitiable, yet determined.
The emperor panicked, rising quickly. “Was…was my joke not funny? Hahaha. I suppose I lack a sense of humor.”
She looked at him, crystalline tears falling.
Lin Hui Emperor instinctively caught a tear in his broad hand.
Jing Miaoyi blinked in surprise, her fake crying halted.
Her red, rabbit-like eyes gazed at the tear in the emperor’s palm.
She didn’t understand.
Not just her; even Lin Hui Emperor didn’t understand.
He coughed twice, withdrawing his hand behind his back, holding it tightly. The tear burned slightly in his palm.
“You…since it’s not Shen Jueming, could it be…me?”
Jing Miaoyi fell silent. She deliberately did not answer, keeping her silence to let the emperor feel her affection—satisfying his vanity, then stepping away.
She wanted him to have yet not have her.
Caught in longing and uncertainty.
Lin Hui Emperor studied Jing Miaoyi’s long silence, slightly raising an eyebrow. “Could it be that I guessed correctly?”
She waved her hands frantically. “N-no, it’s…Shen Lang, it’s Shen Lang.”
“You lie.”
The emperor, clearly pleased, advanced step by step, frightening her backward until she pressed against the screen.
“Look into my eyes and answer properly. Remember, deceiving the emperor brings disaster to nine generations.”
Jing Miaoyi pressed her lips, fearful, hesitating.
“It…is…”
The emperor stared intently; he wanted to know if the person in the painting was truly him.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the door.
Jing Miaoyi’s chest tightened.
“Y-Your Majesty, someone’s coming! We absolutely cannot let them see you.”
She gave Lin Hui Emperor no chance to speak and pulled him toward the inner room. But the room was too large to hide anyone.
She glanced under the bed—someone could hide there, but…
No.
She yanked open a wardrobe and shoved him inside without a word.
“Your Majesty, you’ve been wronged. But if the censors learn you left the palace to visit me, they would surely criticize you.
The historian would also record it faithfully, a blemish on your record.”
She finished speaking and slammed the wardrobe shut, giving him no chance to respond.
Inside the wardrobe, Lin Hui Emperor’s eyes were steady. What in the world was going on?
Had he really become a sneaky thief?
Jing Miaoyi was panicking. She hadn’t expected the emperor to come, nor that anyone else would intrude tonight.
Were the guards at the gate just useless?
She feared that the irreverent emperor wouldn’t cooperate.
If the affair between her and the emperor was discovered, the easiest solution would be to eliminate her to protect the emperor’s reputation.
She glanced at the screen and hastily covered it.
When the door opened, she pretended to be groggy.
“Baozhu?”
“Miaoyi.”
Shen Jueming?
He shouldn’t be here, coaxing the princess to visit her?
“Shen…Shen Lang.”
Shen Jueming grabbed her hand, eyes full of tenderness. “Miaoyi, I know you’ve suffered these past days.
It’s my fault for not protecting you. What happened that day was never my intention.
It was that scoundrel Ruan Xi. He forced me. You know, if I hadn’t agreed, he would have harmed you.
Do you understand me, Miaoyi? Please do not resent me.”
Shen Jueming held her hand tightly.
Jing Miaoyi felt her head spin.
“I…Shen Lang, I know it wasn’t your intention.
But it’s too late now. We are already divorced. If anyone finds out, I…might only die to end it.”
“N-no,” Shen Jueming hugged her tightly.
Inside the wardrobe, Lin Hui Emperor sneered. Shen Jueming dared intrude on a woman’s private room this late—truly shameless.
Jing Miaoyi, afraid of provoking the emperor inside, didn’t dare move.
“Shen Lang, what I mean is…”
Before she could finish, footsteps sounded outside again.
Jing Miaoyi wanted to curse.
One, two—are they all here for a market gathering?
“Shen Lang, someone’s coming!”
Shen Jueming was startled, trying to open the wardrobe. Jing Miaoyi quickly blocked him.
“Under the bed! Under the bed!”