Lu Meng ignored Wu Linxuan’s half-hearted glare of protest and slowly leaned against his shoulder. She deliberately teased, "Your Highness… this concubine spent the entire night thinking of you."
Wu Linxuan’s face was rigid with tension, pretending not to hear her.
As the carriage began moving, Lu Meng found it inconvenient to rest her head adorned with hairpins on Wu Linxuan’s shoulder, but his reaction was too amusing to resist. So she reached out with her delicate, pale hand and placed it on his thigh.
Wu Linxuan shuddered violently.
Lu Meng tilted her head to look at him, a sly smile playing on her lips.
She hadn’t intended to tease him like this—she’d originally planned to be a good, obedient employee. But this time, he’d practically served himself up on a platter.
Guided by her work philosophy of "no promises, no rejections, no responsibility," Lu Meng began testing the waters along the edges of Wu Linxuan’s restraint.
"What are you doing?" Wu Linxuan thought she was about to pinch him again, but this time, her touch was feather-light, almost soothing.
Yet the effect was the opposite—it sent him into a frenzy, as if she were stroking his fur the wrong way.
"Move over there!" Shameless!
How could he possibly feel desire for such a brazen woman?
Lu Meng had no intention of obeying. When Wu Linxuan elbowed her, she seized the opportunity to grab his wrist, then slid her fingers down to his palm.
Virgin boy—his palm was already sweaty.
She forced her fingers between his, interlacing them tightly, then gazed up at him. "Your Highness, why are you so resistant? Don’t you like me?"
Lu Meng was exhilarated, her scalp tingling. Anyone who’d played an otome game with 2D characters would understand the thrill she was feeling right now.
This was pure, unadulterated exploitation of a fictional man.
"But your eyes tell a different story." She raised her other hand, feigning a move to touch Wu Linxuan’s face.
He caught her wrist abruptly, glaring at her with barely contained fury, his understanding of this "Lady Meng" being rewritten with every passing second.
Wu Linxuan had already realized that after his loss of control yesterday, this woman now seemed completely unrestrained.
"Get over there, or get out and walk!"
Seeing him bristle like an angry cat, Lu Meng scoffed internally. Who cared?
Still, she put on a wounded expression. "Your Highness is so cruel. You weren’t this cold yesterday when you were pressing against me."
Wu Linxuan’s face flushed scarlet—half from humiliation at being teased, half from sheer rage.
He was on the verge of madness, itching to strangle this infuriating woman right then and there.
Lu Meng moved to the other side of the carriage, but Wu Linxuan snorted and shoved her away. "Forget what happened yesterday. Consider it a moment of madness—blind impulse!"
Lu Meng, who had just lifted herself to move, immediately sat back down.
She turned to him. "Your Highness, that’s not how promises work."
"A true gentleman honors his word, while a petty man goes back on his promises."
"You threw me onto your bed—a bed so soft, I might add—and now you’re saying it’s over, just like that?"
Wu Linxuan’s voice was low and seething. "Then what do you want?"
Lu Meng pondered. If she couldn’t have his body, at the very least, she could secure a "Simmons mattress" for herself.
So she said, "If Your Highness insists on breaking your word and refuses to consummate our marriage, what can this concubine do? Force you?"
She continued, "But you can’t just toy with me like this. After all, I love Your Highness with all my heart."
His money, his power, his protagonist halo—that was what she truly loved.
She tossed the word "love" around so casually, as if it were no different from the act of consummation itself, making Wu Linxuan feel even more like he was being played.
Furious, he nearly shoved open the carriage window to leap out, but he forced himself to ask through gritted teeth, "What exactly do you want?"
"Your Highness, give me your bedding."
Lu Meng said, "If I can’t have you, at least let me sleep on the sheets you’ve used, to savor… your lingering presence."
She caught herself. "Ahem—your scent."
Asking for his entire bed was unrealistic—Wu Linxuan would never agree to that.
Besides, who knew if there were ancient regulations forbidding concubines from sleeping on certain carved beds, just like how princes couldn’t wear imperial dragon robes?
To play it safe, Lu Meng settled for a set of bedding. She could commission a new one, but what if the craftsmen skimped on materials?
She’d noticed earlier that Wu Linxuan’s bedding was freshly changed.
Wu Linxuan stared at her with an indescribable expression, his brows furrowed in a mix of disgust and disbelief.
After a long pause, he finally spat out, "You’re utterly… shameless."
One touch, and now she wanted his bedding? What did she plan to do with it?
Unbidden, Wu Linxuan recalled the time he’d seen her pleasuring herself. Now, the image of her lying on his sheets, doing the same thing—
He glanced down, his veins bulging on the back of his hand as he clenched his robe, barely able to stay seated in the carriage.
By Wu Linxuan’s standards, Lu Meng’s behavior would be classified as that of a "perverted woman." Unfortunately, ancient times lacked such precise terminology, so he could only suffer in silence.
Goosebumps rose in waves across his skin, his back damp with sweat, his entire body burning with agitation.
"Well, Your Highness? Yes or no?" Lu Meng prodded when he didn’t answer, nudging his pristine white shoe with her foot.
"Don’t even dream of it!"
Wu Linxuan looked at her with the expression of a chaste woman who’d just caught a lecher sniffing her undergarments. "One more word, and I’ll throw you out."
"Silence!" He kicked her foot back.
Lu Meng shut her mouth. She’d pushed far enough—Wu Linxuan was genuinely on the verge of exploding.
These early romance novel male leads were all cut from the same cloth—absolute dogs, every last one of them.
If he really made her get out and walk, she’d be hopelessly lost.
And given the trope where tragic heroines inevitably face disaster the moment they step out without the male lead, Lu Meng wasn’t about to tempt fate.
So she obediently gathered her skirts and moved to the opposite seat, not even glancing at Wu Linxuan anymore. Instead, she pondered how to upgrade her own bedding. Even if it couldn’t match his, it shouldn’t fall too far short.
They’d be living in Prince Jian'an’s Mansion for years before his ascension to the throne—comfortable bedding was non-negotiable!
Her pensive, downcast expression struck Wu Linxuan as… heartbroken.
Heartbroken over him.
Upset that he wouldn’t let her have his sheets for her own gratification.
And when a person begins unconsciously noticing another, that’s the beginning of downfall.
The soul’s descent takes time—a struggle between reason and reality, shaped by countless internal and external factors.
But the fall of the senses? That often requires nothing more than finding someone pleasing to the eye, comforting to hold, intoxicating in scent—or just a fleeting, indescribable spark.
Wu Linxuan couldn’t help but watch Lu Meng. A lifetime of suppressing his nature meant he didn’t even know what kind of woman he liked. In his eyes, women were nothing but obstacles to his ascent to the throne.
His disdain for romance aligned perfectly with Lu Meng’s own views—yet physical desire could exist entirely separate from the heart.
Wu Linxuan was acutely aware that he was drawn to Dream Madam’s appearance—even her body.
He couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride when he saw Lu Meng sulking over not getting his bedding.
This was the arrogance of a superior male, especially for someone like Wu Linxuan, who was born looking down on the world. The fact that a woman he desired couldn’t have him filled him with immense satisfaction.
As the carriage rolled forward, Lu Meng pondered the bedding situation for a while before her thoughts drifted to her elder sister in this body—Zhangsun Xianyun.
From what she had gathered from Xiuyun and Xiuli, she hadn’t seen this sister, who had married far away, in years.
Lu Meng wasn’t afraid of Zhangsun Xianyun noticing her personality didn’t match the original owner’s—people change over time, right?
But she was terrified that Zhangsun Xianyun might bring up the past. After all, Lu Meng had no memories. She didn’t even know the name of Zhangsun Lumeng’s mother.
If the sisters started reminiscing and Lu Meng drew a blank on everything—well, trouble. Rumor had it that Zhangsun Xianyun was a fierce woman who fought alongside her husband on the battlefield, a "heretical" figure in this world.
Lu Meng was afraid she might just stomp her to death single-handedly.
As she sighed in worry, Wu Linxuan, his high-schooler superiority complex thoroughly gratified, began to feel an itch creeping in.
The more he looked at her, the more restless he became. The more he looked, the more convinced he was that he shouldn’t hold back.
So what if she was a spy? He would never let a woman manipulate him. As long as he severed her ties to whoever was behind her and trapped her in the inner court, what tricks could she possibly pull?
At worst, he could chain her up or lock her in a cage.
Dark thoughts swirled in Wu Linxuan’s mind like spilled ink. Without realizing it, his stance had shifted from "kill her" to "even if I find her backer, just locking her away will be enough."
"Clip her wings so she can only stay by my side and submit."
Of course, this was a classic trait of an obsessive male lead in early romance novels. If Lu Meng knew, she’d probably applaud.
Being locked up was her ultimate dream—but being chained? No thanks.
Wu Linxuan was lost in his fantasies when the carriage jolted. Lu Meng, lost in thought, lost her balance and lurched forward—only for Wu Linxuan to seize her wrist.
With a sharp tug, Lu Meng, her face stinging from the hairpins smacking into her, opened her eyes to find herself straddling Wu Linxuan’s lap again.
Feeling the powerful muscles of his thighs beneath her, and his large hand smearing her lipstick as he bit her lips, a suspicion arose in Lu Meng’s mind.
She had a strong hunch that Wu the Dog might actually be Wu the Horse—because he clearly enjoyed being ridden.
Wu Linxuan was as frantic as a starving dog fighting for food, but Lu Meng leisurely wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers brushing the crown on his head. She mentally appraised it: Hmm, solid gold, inlaid with jade that looks outrageously expensive.
Wu the Dog was filthy rich… How could she not love him?
After days of handling phoenix crowns, playing with jade scepters, and admiring piles of gold and silver, she could now tell pure gold at a touch and gauge jade’s worth at a glance.
"Close your eyes!" Wu Linxuan’s voice was low, commanding.
He was utterly consumed, barely keeping himself from trembling like a fool, yet this woman’s eyes were darting around like marbles.
What the hell is she looking at?!
He deepened the kiss, stealing her breath, and Lu Meng obediently shut her eyes.
Gotta admit, male leads in early romance novels were different—self-taught, no instruction needed, and their kissing skills improved at breakneck speed.
Of course, Lu Meng didn’t know that Wu Linxuan had spent the entire previous night… rehearsing in his dreams.
The carriage had no suspension, and even on the main road, the ride was rough.
Lu Meng looped her arms around Wu Linxuan’s neck and began responding slowly, driving him nearly wild.
By the time her lips were numb and the carriage finally reached the palace gates, Wu Linxuan reluctantly released her.
His expression was solemn, as if he hadn’t spent the entire journey acting like a rogue—more like he’d just lost both parents.
But Lu Meng, who had just slid off his lap, knew the truth: he didn’t dare stand up right now.
Her lips didn’t need rouge anymore—they were naturally red.
Leaning against the carriage window, she stole a glance at Wu Linxuan sitting rigidly upright and smirked to herself.
Virgin. Tsk.
