Lu Meng thought she would have to wait outside the courtyard again this time, and perhaps Wu Linxuan wouldn’t even see her.
The sun was shining brightly today, and the candy figurine in Lu Meng’s hand was nearly melted beyond recognition. Yet, she was so happy she couldn’t stop humming a little tune to herself.
She mused that it would be even better if Wu Linxuan refused to see her. After all, she had shown up—she could just have her maid deliver the candy figurine to him later, and her "duty" would be done.
But to her surprise, unlike last time when she had to shout and make a fuss just to get through the door, this time she was let in effortlessly.
When Lu Meng entered, Wu Linxuan was sitting in the outer room drinking tea, just like before.
Holding two candy figurines in one hand and a food box in the other, Lu Meng grinned from ear to ear at the sight of him.
"Your Highness…" Her voice was sweet and melodious, almost sing-song.
Mostly because she was genuinely delighted—looking at Wu Linxuan was like gazing at her personal ATM.
Wu Linxuan glanced at her and gave a faint "Hmm," his lips actually curling into a smile.
Chen Yuan, ever perceptive, quietly retreated, and the maids in the room followed suit.
With a sigh, Chen Yuan thought to himself, Today is already the 14th day of the eighth month. This Dream Consort probably won’t live past August.
Those who knew Wu Linxuan understood that when he was cold and aloof, it meant everything was fine. But if he started smiling at someone, the more charming his smile, the deadlier his intentions—like how the most colorful mushrooms and snakes were often the most poisonous.
As Wu Linxuan watched Lu Meng, his mind raced with countless ways to kill her.
The complicating factor was the news he had received the night before: the General of the Southern Border had been recalled to the imperial capital and was likely nearing the city gates by now. His Dream Consort’s elder sister, Zhangsun Xianyun, would undoubtedly be returning with him.
Disposing of this concubine now would only invite unnecessary trouble. Moreover, Wu Linxuan was genuinely curious—just whose pawn was this Dream Consort of his?
This felt like a high-stakes gamble he had been forced into. The chips he had already lost included "the responsibility of overseeing the construction of the imperial retreat," "offending the Second Prince," "losing the deed to the House of Literary Brilliance," and "a staggering six thousand taels of gold."
Strangling Lu Meng with his bare hands would bring him immense satisfaction, but he couldn’t afford to lose so much without even knowing who had orchestrated this scheme.
So, Wu Linxuan fell back on his tried-and-true strategy: If you want to destroy someone, first let them grow arrogant.
Once he uncovered the mastermind behind this, and after the Mid-Autumn Festival when the General of the Southern Border and Zhangsun Xianyun—the eldest daughter of the Vice Minister of Revenue—left the capital, he would take his time settling the score.
And so, here they were—Wu Linxuan putting on a "pleasant" face, while Lu Meng wondered if he had swallowed the wrong pills today.
"Your Highness," Lu Meng handed him the candy figurine, "I bought this on the street. It was molded after your heroic likeness."
It was a little figure wrapped in what was supposed to be a dragon, though the dragon had melted into something resembling a snake. Wu Linxuan glanced at it, smiled, took a bite, and promptly decapitated the "himself" in his hand.
The candy wasn’t crisp anymore—just sticky and soft.
"Delicious," Wu Linxuan lied through his teeth.
Encouraged by how easily he seemed to be appeased, Lu Meng grew bolder. "Your Highness, did something good happen? You’ve been smiling all day—it’s quite overwhelming for this humble consort."
And also kind of creepy?
Not that Wu Linxuan wasn’t handsome—when he smiled, even the flowers in the room seemed to pale in comparison. With his striking features and flawless aura, Lu Meng felt like she had bagged herself a 360-degree-perfect superstar.
But when something seemed too good to be true, there was always a catch!
She needed to figure out what was going on.
"Hmm, something good did happen," Wu Linxuan replied, studying the ever-shifting expressions on the Dream Consort’s face. Even up close, he couldn’t decipher what she was thinking.
So he asked, "I heard you went out to play a couple of days ago."
His tone was leisurely. "Did you have fun?"
Lu Meng’s heart skipped a beat. Was the boss checking her spending records?
She nodded eagerly. "Yes, it was wonderful! Your Highness…" She watched his expression carefully. "This consort may have spent a little money these past few days. You’re not angry, are you?"
Wu Linxuan let out a derisive snort. Six thousand taels of gold—just "a little money" in her words. This Dream Consort of his grew more intriguing by the minute.
Aloud, he said, "Of course not."
Relieved, Lu Meng relaxed visibly. Seeing that the "Big Dog Wu" truly didn’t seem to mind, she grew even bolder and scooted closer. "Your Highness, let me massage your legs for you?"
After spending so much of his money, she figured she ought to put in some "employee effort."
Under Wu Linxuan’s inscrutable gaze, she knelt beside him like a servant and actually started kneading his legs.
Lu Meng felt no shame in this! For the sake of long-term benefits, what was a little pampering for the boss?
She worked diligently, her small fists applying just the right pressure. The moment they landed on Wu Linxuan’s thigh, his muscles tensed instantly.
Lu Meng gulped, afraid he might kick her.
His legs, encased in black trousers, were nothing like the frail, delicate limbs of a pampered prince. When she had hugged him before, she had noticed—his thighs were thick and powerful, his calves straight and firm. When tensed, they felt like steel, capable of kicking her to death several times over.
In the original story, Big Dog Wu was a skilled martial artist.
He didn’t have Yuehui’s exaggerated chest muscles or bulky frame, but he was just as tall, with even more streamlined proportions—a narrower waist, and… well, his backside was currently hidden since he was sitting.
"Your Highness, relax. I won’t hurt you," Lu Meng coaxed, tilting her flower-like face up with a bright smile. "How’s the pressure, Your Highness?"
Wu Linxuan didn’t relax. If anything, his entire body stiffened further as he looked down at the woman crouched at his feet. She had lowered herself so willingly, without a trace of reluctance in her eyes… Was she really this good at acting?
"Your Highness," Lu Meng continued enthusiastically, now moving from his thighs to his shoulders.
Standing behind him, she said, "I bought two fine things these past few days. One of them is a heavy iron blade."
Lu Meng was very clear about her role as the model employee. Now that Big Dog Wu was in a good mood, she had to show her loyalty.
So she added, "I plan to gift that blade to my brother-in-law, the General of the Southern Border, once he returns. I’ll ask my sister to deliver it."
Wu Linxuan’s shoulders loosened slightly under her ministrations. He usually hated being touched—even Chen Yuan, who had served him for years, wasn’t allowed this close. No matter how exhausted or sore he was, he endured it alone. But her kneading actually felt… surprisingly good.
However, the moment she mentioned gifting the blade to the General of the Southern Border, all traces of relaxation vanished.
Lu Meng, now using her fingers to pinch his shoulders and the back of his neck, employed a peculiar technique that made Wu Linxuan jerk slightly.
Narrowing his phoenix-like eyes—a hallmark of any male lead—he smirked with his signature thin lips and asked, "You bought a blade… for the General of the Southern Border?"
"Of course!" Lu Meng replied. "My sister has taken such good care of me all these years. This is the least I can do to repay her."
"When the General receives the gift, he’ll know I could never afford it on my own. He’ll understand it’s all thanks to Your Highness’s generosity."
When Lu Meng spoke these words, she tilted her head close to Wu Linxuan’s ear. The damp warmth of her breath and her coquettish, ingratiating voice seeped into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and causing his expression to shift slightly.
He wanted to reprimand this concubine, to order her to keep her distance and not be so presumptuous.
But his mind, unsettled by this unprecedented closeness between them, recalled the sight of Madam Meng indulging in her own whims.
And the way she had clung to his leg, asking when they would consummate their marriage.
"Also, your servant has purchased a building," Lu Meng said. "The business there is thriving—it’s bound to be very profitable. Since Your Highness treats me so well, what’s mine naturally belongs to you."
Sweet words came easily to anyone, but Lu Meng was especially skilled at them.
Translated, her statement meant: What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is still mine.
However, Wu Linxuan, who had been brimming with schemes and ruthlessness, found his defenses shattered by Lu Meng’s relentless flattery.
Of course, Wu Linxuan didn’t believe a single word.
Yet he let out a soft chuckle and asked his beloved concubine, "So, buying that sword—was it to help me win over General Zhennan?"
Not at all. Lu Meng had bought the sword for the general purely to secure his favor and ensure her own comfort.
"And the building—will you give that to me as well?"
As if! Lu Meng would’ve happily bought every shop on the street if it meant she could lounge in luxury for the rest of her life.
Wu Linxuan turned to look at her, even reaching out to twirl a lock of her hair between his fingers.
He asked, "Since you’re so devoted to me, what reward would you like?"
Lu Meng had never been this close to Wu Linxuan before. She couldn’t decipher the mockery or indifference in his ancient-prince eyes, but at this proximity, she was struck by his breathtaking features—so flawless they seemed painted.
It was like playing a game of spot the difference.
His hairline was perfectly aligned, his raven-black locks gleaming, and his skin unnaturally smooth.
But Lu Meng had sharp eyes, and from this distance, she spotted a tiny mole near the peak of his lips.
A seductive red one.
Hey there, little mole.
"What are you looking at?" Wu Linxuan had meant to coax her into speaking, but instead, she was staring at him in a daze.
Lu Meng snapped out of it. She wasn’t a lecher, but who didn’t appreciate beauty?
She gazed at Wu Linxuan with genuine admiration and said, "Your Highness is truly exquisite."
Wu Linxuan: "..."
Throughout his life, many had praised him—his cunning, his demeanor, his presence. But no one had ever stared at a prince for so long just to compliment his looks.
It was blasphemy. A provocation.
In this era, being too beautiful—especially if one lacked power—was anything but a blessing.
Just like Lu Meng, who was now gazing at him in open admiration.
But Lu Meng quickly snapped out of her reverie and answered his earlier question: "Your Highness once said that once I married you, I would be your wife."
This isn’t me being delusional—you’re the one who lured me in with those honeyed words!
She continued, "I ask for nothing else—only to live under Your Highness’s protection, as a carefree idler in your household."
That was your promise too!
Every word she spoke was sincere, straight from the heart.
She wanted to be a lazy fish.
After she finished, Wu Linxuan simply stared at her in silence.
The atmosphere grew strange, and Lu Meng, unnerved by his gaze, glanced around until her eyes landed on the food box on the table.
Hastily, she said, "The sugar figurine has melted—don’t eat it. I brought you some congee instead."
She tossed the half-melted candy from Wu Linxuan’s hand and eagerly pulled out a bowl of red bean congee from the box.
Wu Linxuan watched her lips part, knowing full well that not a word she said could be trusted—yet he couldn’t control the heat stirring within him.
He was furious with himself, disgusted at how easily this spy could rouse his desire.
But his eyes remained fixed on Lu Meng, tracing the delicate curves of her face, now even more radiant after days of pampering.
Then he saw her offer him the bowl of red bean congee—again.
This was the third time.
To Wu Linxuan, it wasn’t just congee. It was an invitation.
And the subject of that invitation was herself.
The restraint he’d been clinging to dissolved like the overcooked congee in the bowl.
He refused to believe he could be enslaved by lust, but this woman was the first to awaken such hunger in him. Resisting only made it worse, tormenting him even in his dreams.
Wu Linxuan stirred the congee with a spoon before abruptly sweeping the bowl to the floor.
Crash.
The thick red bean paste splattered across the ground, mirroring the desire thickening the air.
In one swift motion, he seized Lu Meng’s arm—her shoulders hunched in surprise—and gripped her slender waist, pulling her onto his lap.
He’d suffered enough at her hands. And she was his lawfully wedded concubine.
Why should he torture himself?
Was it so wrong to claim a little pleasure before destroying her?
Wu Linxuan crushed her against him, tilting her chin up with one hand as his lips descended toward hers.
Lu Meng’s eyes nearly popped out of her head—
