Lu Meng wasn’t the least bit surprised when the supporting female character came knocking at her door.
Moreover, after sobering up a little, she found that she actually remembered quite a bit about this Princess Yinyue.
Mainly because the princess was too formidable.
From Lu Meng’s perspective as a reader, Princess Yinyue was a villainess who relied entirely on her father’s influence, devoid of any brains, and utterly ruthless toward the original female lead.
The original female lead’s first child had been sacrificed at her hands.
Through her actions alone, she had driven the original male and female leads to become bitter enemies.
One of the most classic tropes in early romance novels was the "male lead massacres the female lead’s family" plotline.
If Lu Meng recalled correctly, it was because Zhangsun Doudou had offended Princess Yinyue, resulting in her reputation being utterly ruined. For the first time in his life, Zhangsun Doudou’s father—a spineless man—stood up to defend his daughter, which enraged Prince Jian'an and led to his downfall as well.
Then came the miscarriage and the annihilation of her family, which drove the female lead into despair and prompted yet another escape…
Sitting at the table, Lu Meng pondered carefully—if Zhangsun Doudou and her father were wiped out, should she at least offer a polite smile?
Thinking of Princess Yinyue again, Lu Meng remembered that the princess had an arsenal of drugs at her disposal.
All kinds—substances that could silently induce miscarriages or sterility, love potions, truth serums, and even mind-altering poisons.
The most notorious was the love gu—a classic curse where the two afflicted individuals were bound to each other physically. Lu Meng couldn’t recall how often they had to engage, but if they didn’t, they would gradually descend into madness.
No one else would suffice—only the person carrying the matching gu could satisfy the curse.
In short, Princess Yinyue was practically a walking apothecary. The most terrifying thing about her was her attendant—a master of witchcraft and curses.
Back when Lu Meng was reading the novel, she had thought, I want that sorcerer. With his poisons and curses, she could dominate this world. Why bother with men at all?
In the end, this troublemaking supporting character met her demise when Prince Jian'an secured her father’s power. Consumed by unrequited love, she not only sacrificed her sorcerer to win the prince’s favor but also secretly cursed him with the love gu. In retaliation, he callously threw her into a pit of snakes to die.
Of course, the twists and turns of this story were far more convoluted than that—far beyond what a simple phrase like "stormy romance" could describe.
There were other supporting female characters tangled in the mess as well. The sheer volume of information left Lu Meng lying dazed on the bed for a while before her brain finally rebooted.
Then she looked at Xin Ya and said, "I won’t see her."
With a thud, she flopped back onto the bed.
To hell with stormy romance literature—I’d rather take a nap.
Xin Ya hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "My lady, Prince Baili’s domain lies in the southern borders—his influence is vast. Princess Yinyue has come to the capital specifically to seek a husband."
"His Majesty intends to keep her in the capital as leverage against Prince Baili. Several princes are already making moves, and His Highness…"
Xin Ya served Prince Jian'an and knew well of his ambitions.
Securing the support of Prince Baili—a powerful non-imperial prince—would be like adding wings to a tiger.
Moreover, the emperor had summoned the two non-imperial princes and their children to the capital for the autumn hunt. It was likely a test to see which of his sons was truly fit to inherit the throne.
The emperor’s mind was inscrutable. As his son, one couldn’t appear too ambitious—lest he grow wary—nor too incompetent—lest he be dismissed as useless.
With the crown prince and empress positions left vacant for so long, court officials had repeatedly pressured Emperor Yan'an. This autumn hunt seemed like the perfect opportunity for him to make a decision.
The intricate power struggles and the emperor’s balancing act had turned the capital into a murky pond.
Whether one could fish in troubled waters or end up as the prey depended entirely on one’s skill.
Prince Jian'an’s mother had passed away—a disadvantage, but also an advantage. The emperor wouldn’t want to appoint both a crown prince and an empress at once.
A ruler’s greatest vulnerability was his insecurity and attachment to the throne. If he ultimately chose Prince Jian'an, he would only need to name a crown prince.
Thus, if Prince Jian'an could secure Prince Baili’s support, distinguish himself in the hunt, and tame his "vassals," he might take a major step forward—becoming the rightful heir to the Eastern Palace.
This was as much as Xin Ya could deduce, though she wasn’t entirely certain. She broke it down carefully for Lu Meng.
"If my lady can establish a good relationship with Princess Yinyue, it may greatly assist His Highness. In return, he will surely hold you in even higher regard."
At the very least, he wouldn’t force Lu Meng to step aside if he married a high-ranking princess.
Though the emperor himself had sanctioned Lu Meng’s marriage to Prince Jian'an, all it would take to depose her was an accusation of "misconduct."
And Lu Meng had no shortage of vulnerabilities. Xin Ya couldn’t help but worry for her.
How can someone so passive hope to compete?
The imperial court and harem were like a crucible. Even women who had sat upon the throne as empress, won the emperor’s favor, and borne the crown prince had been pulled down—let alone a mere consort like Lu Meng, now caught in the crossfire.
In Xin Ya’s eyes, the daughters of non-imperial princes were merely pawns—useful until they outlived their purpose. But if that happened, what would become of Lu Meng?
Her backing was still too weak.
Xin Ya had spent half her life in the palace, serving under imperial consorts—even the late empress.
She was well-versed in the unspoken battles that raged beneath the surface.
This was her way of teaching Lu Meng how to secure her future.
A man’s love—especially an emperor’s—was never reliable.
Out of respect for the bond between Prince Jian'an and Lu Meng, Xin Ya couldn’t spell it out too bluntly.
But her intentions were sincere—she truly wanted what was best for Lu Meng.
Before Lu Meng could fully wake up, she was bombarded with political scheming, leaving her lying blankly on the bed.
The words went in one ear and out the other, leaving no trace behind.
After a long pause, Lu Meng finally asked, "Are you suggesting I facilitate a secret affair between His Highness and Princess Yinyue?"
Wasn’t this just the classic plot of pushing a concubine onto one’s husband?
Xin Ya hadn’t expected such bluntness. She immediately knelt and said, "This servant only wishes for my lady to plan for the future."
True security lay in power and status—a lesson most palace consorts had learned.
Only young brides still intoxicated by love clung to romantic illusions. If Lu Meng acted now, she could still turn the situation to her advantage—by making Princess Yinyue fall hopelessly for Prince Jian'an.
A reputation for magnanimity, combined with the prince’s current favor, might just preserve her position as his consort.
Xin Ya wanted Lu Meng to exploit another woman’s devotion—not to lose herself in love.
Princess Yinyue was still young and impressionable. If given a few more years—or if someone advised her—things would become far more difficult.
This was an extremely dangerous gamble. For a servant to speak so frankly was both an act of loyalty and a risk to her own life.
After all, scheming to make a princess a concubine—such a thing, if spoken aloud, would drive Prince Baili mad before anyone else could react.
Xin Ya wanted the princess consort to emerge victorious. If Prince Jian'an were to ascend the throne one day, she hoped the princess consort would take the position of the empress.
Lu Meng herself had no intention of fighting, but to her surprise, Xin Ya had taken up the battle on her behalf.
Lu Meng sighed and shook her head, saying, "Nurse Xin Ya, everything you say is reasonable, but I will never arrange for the prince to take a concubine."
"If he wishes to marry one, let him do it himself," Lu Meng continued. "I won’t stop him, nor do I need a reputation for being virtuous and obedient."
Lu Meng wasn’t the least bit upset. Instead, she rose from her seat, leaned over the bed to help Xin Ya up, and pulled her to sit beside her, gently squeezing her hand.
"I’m touched and grateful, Nurse Xin Ya, that you’ve considered everything so thoroughly for me. Anyone fortunate enough to have someone like you serving them would surely rest easy for life."
Lu Meng smiled and said, "But, Nurse, my ambitions don’t lie in the heavens."
She patted the bed and added, "My ambitions lie right here."
Xin Ya’s expression faltered slightly, as if she didn’t quite understand. She seemed to think the princess consort was still clinging to her marital bond with Prince Jian'an, and a hint of urgency flashed in her eyes.
How could emotions ever be relied upon? And for how long?
Prince Jian'an was not a man who prioritized love. His ambitions lay in the throne, destined to betray every woman who loved him.
Lu Meng clarified, "Don’t misunderstand—it’s not Prince Jian'an’s bed I’m referring to. My ambitions lie in my own bed."
"I just want to live a carefree life, dressed in fine clothes and passing my days in peace until old age."
"Xin Ya, go and send Princess Yinyue away for me. I can’t be bothered to see her."
Xin Ya still wanted to say more, but seeing Lu Meng lie back down, she sighed and stood up from the bedside.
Just as she turned to leave, the tent flap was abruptly thrown open.
"Princess, you cannot barge into the tent—Her Highness is resting—"
"Princess, you—"
The voices of Xiuyun and Xiuli came from outside, followed by a flash of bright red as the princess stormed in—clearly, the two maids had failed to stop her.
The guards, of course, dared not interfere with noblewomen, and so Princess Yinyue forced her way inside.
Xiuyun and Xiuli were held back at the entrance by the princess’s attendants.
"I’ve come to see for myself whether the Princess Consort of Jian'an is truly unwell or simply afraid to face me."
Her tone was sharp, like the spiciest of chicken wings.
Both Lu Meng and Xin Ya were momentarily stunned. Xin Ya moved to intervene, but Lu Meng called out, "Xin Ya, take the maids and leave. Since the princess has forced her way in… it’s hardly proper to throw her out now."
Xin Ya listened to the exchange, noting the lack of courtesy on both sides.
She shot Lu Meng a worried glance, fearing she might be at a disadvantage.
But she would never defy the princess consort’s orders. She bowed to Lu Meng, then to Princess Yinyue, who stood a short distance from the bed, before leading Xiuyun and Xiuli away.
Now, only Lu Meng and Princess Yinyue remained in the room.
This wasn’t their first meeting, but it was the first time Lu Meng had truly looked at her.
The moment the princess barged in, clad in red, Lu Meng recognized her—the woman who had stared so intensely at her from the high platform the day before.
So it was true—heroines of tragic tales had no female friendships.
Any unfamiliar woman who approached her either wanted her dead or was after her man.
Lu Meng lay on the bed, merely turning her head to look at the intruder, making no move to rise.
In her past life, as a mere concubine of Prince Jian'an, she had been forced into submission by this princess, humiliated and bullied.
The original Lu Meng had been driven into the woods to pick mushrooms, only to be mistaken for a deer and shot.
But now, Lu Meng was the Princess Consort of Jian'an.
This status was excellent—higher than a princess in this world. So she didn’t need to move. It was the princess who should be bowing to her.
Princess Yinyue, however, showed no intention of paying respects. Her gaze burned with arrogance, her chin lifted slightly—a true little firecracker.
The princess remained silent, so Lu Meng did the same.
They stared at each other like two stubborn turtles in a standoff.
Finally, Princess Yinyue broke first. "I heard from your maids that you were unwell and refused to see me. Are you dying? Why won’t you get up?"
"For a princess consort, you have no manners."
Lu Meng could easily use her status to reprimand her—for failing to bow, for barging into the tent.
But she couldn’t be bothered.
Even if this escalated, the daughter of a prince by enfeoffment wasn’t directly offending the emperor. At worst, she’d receive a scolding.
And Lu Meng might end up being reprimanded too.
After all, when it came to etiquette, the princess had merely disregarded her, while Lu Meng genuinely didn’t care.
So neither had the right to criticize the other.
Lu Meng lay there like a complete invalid, blinking slowly. Despite the harsh words, her expression remained serene, utterly unruffled.
But trading barbs required little effort.
"Spit it out if you have something to say," Lu Meng retorted. "Sneaking into the men’s tents in the dead of night, dressed in red—are you that desperate to get married?"
"You—!" Princess Yinyue, Baili Yue, had never expected the Princess Consort of Jian'an to speak to her like this.
Furious, she took two steps forward, glaring down at Lu Meng. "How dare you refuse to see me? You even tried to have your maids send me away! What are you afraid of?"
"Afraid you’ll drool on my face," Lu Meng said, feigning disgust and pointing at her. "Stand farther from my bed."
"And as for why I refused to see you—because I’m the Princess Consort of Jian'an. Because you’re just a princess, and I can refuse you if I want."
"You won’t be for much longer!"
Baili Yue had prepared a slew of cutting remarks, honed against the concubines in her father’s household—women who spoke in circles, feigned weakness, and schemed in the shadows.
She had assumed the Princess Consort of Jian'an was the same—pampered, delicate, yet cunning beneath the surface.
Why else would the king of horses submit to a woman?
Huaihua had told her—there were indeed drugs that could tame beasts.
Baili Yue was convinced the princess consort had used underhanded methods.
But now, none of her prepared insults worked, because this princess consort was outright vulgar—a true villainess!
"I came to the capital for one purpose—to marry Brother Linxuan!"
Baili Yue’s phoenix eyes, slightly upturned, were undeniably striking. As a named antagonist destined for a dramatic end, she carried the aura of a blazing red flower.
Pity she was a fool.
Lu Meng knew she wasn’t particularly clever herself—surviving in this world of master schemers had been sheer luck.
But relying on luck was still better than relying on one’s father, like Princess Yinyue.
Even fools have a hierarchy, and Princess Yinyue was currently at the bottom of it.
She declared, "Once I marry Brother Xuan, you won’t be the Princess of Jian’an anymore! Your background is so lowly—you’ll have to step aside for me!"
Lu Meng lay on the bed, listening until she couldn’t help but yawn.
Truthfully, she wasn’t sleepy anymore. She’d slept a lot during the day and even took an afternoon nap. Now, she just felt lazily relaxed.
Baili Yue was in the middle of her impassioned monologue when she saw Lu Meng yawn. Her words instantly stuck in her throat.
"You!" Baili Yue stepped closer, pointing at Lu Meng. "How dare you disrespect me like this?! Just wait until I marry Brother Xuan—you’ll regret this!"
"Disrespect?" Lu Meng propped herself up slightly, arranging a soft pillow behind her back. She swung her legs lazily under the covers, eyeing this little firecracker with amusement.
A pure tool, isn’t she?
"Brother Xuan"? So familiar after just one meeting?
Was there some history between them?
"I’m the Princess of Jian’an right now," Lu Meng said dismissively. "By status, you’re beneath me."
"But I won’t argue with you. So, you want to marry Prince Jian’an? Got it. Are you done?"
Lu Meng wore an expression that clearly said, "I don’t debate with fools."
"If you’re finished, you should leave. It’s getting late, and this area is the men’s camp. If anyone sees you entering a man’s tent, your reputation will be ruined."
"And if your reputation is ruined, you won’t be able to marry Prince Jian’an."
Baili Yue choked on her anger. Born into nobility, she had grown up spoiled and outspoken in the southern borders, never needing to mince words.
For years, no one had dared to oppose her. But now, she’d met her match, and it left her fuming, her face as red as her robes.
"You’re truly vile! It’s your reputation that’s ruined! If you know this is the men’s camp, why are you staying here?"
"Because I’m the Princess of Jian’an," Lu Meng said, raising an eyebrow. "At least for now."
Baili Yue, dressed in striking red, was already a picture of youthful beauty. Now, flushed with anger, her face matched the hue of her robes.
She was torn—leaving felt like defeat, but staying left her with nothing else to say.
She had come to provoke the Princess of Jian’an, to see what kind of woman she was.
She’d expected the princess to be like other noblewomen—pretending to be delicate while scheming in the shadows, like poisoning that horse.
But now, she realized she couldn’t gain the upper hand against this woman.
Still, Baili Yue, a seasoned provocateur, quickly thought of another angle.
"You must have drugged that horse," she accused. "Don’t think no one knows what you did!"
"Huaihua said that if you hadn’t poisoned it, Brother Xuan would have been the one to tame it. That horse didn’t hurt him—it just trapped him in the pen, refusing to let him leave."
"You stole Brother Xuan’s moment, dared to demand an imperial pardon from the emperor, and even took the token from Fengqu Kingdom. Your days are numbered!"
Lu Meng fell silent for a moment. Just as Baili Yue thought she’d finally struck a nerve and broken her composure, Lu Meng asked, "Who’s Huaihua?"
She already had a guess—Huaihua was probably that sorcerer.
Lu Meng was quite interested in him, mainly for his medicines.
Baili Yue answered reflexively, "He’s my attendant—"
Then she caught herself. "What does it matter to you who he is?!"
"You should worry about yourself! Once I tell Brother Xuan you poisoned that horse, he’ll despise you!"
Lu Meng had been lazily indifferent, but then her gaze flicked toward the tent entrance, catching a glimpse of dark robes disappearing outside.
She straightened slightly against the headboard, suddenly seeming interested in Baili Yue’s words.
"Why do you call Prince Jian’an ‘Brother Xuan’?" she asked. "He’s my husband. That’s too intimate."
"Hmph! Brother Xuan and I met long before you even knew he existed!"
Baili Yue lifted her chin. "We pledged ourselves to each other when we were ten. At the palace, I fell into the lotus pond, and he saved me. I swore then that I’d marry no one but him..."
Lu Meng was stunned. So that was the backstory. No wonder she kept calling him "Brother Xuan."
Lotus ponds really were trouble when it came to reputations.
"Oh, so you liked him even back then? Impressive. At that age, all I cared about was how tasty candied hawthorns were."
Lu Meng tilted her head. "But have you ever asked him if he likes you?"
"Of course Brother Xuan likes me!" Baili Yue pulled out a hair ribbon—faded red, its age unclear—from her sleeve.
She thrust it toward Lu Meng, chin raised triumphantly. "See this? He tied it around my hair himself. Do you know what it means when a man gives a woman a hair ribbon?"
"Does it mean he wants to marry you?" Lu Meng feigned innocence.
"Exactly!" Baili Yue was pleased with her cooperation.
Lu Meng nodded with a smile. "What a sweet childhood romance."
Then she raised her voice slightly, glancing toward the tent entrance again.
"Who would’ve thought? Prince Jian’an acts so proper, putting on that righteous front, but he was already flirting at ten! Such a little heartbreaker."
She sighed dramatically. "I wonder how many women he’s strung along over the years."
"You’re lying! Brother Xuan isn’t like that!" Baili Yue’s eyes sparkled at the mention of Wu Linxuan.
"Brother Xuan is noble and unmatched among the princes! He’s the only one who left the palace to establish his own estate, was enfeoffed as Prince Jian’an, and brought order to the northern regions. My father says his future will be beyond measure!"
Baili Yue truly had no filter.
At the words "beyond measure," Lu Meng’s eyelids twitched, and she glanced toward the tent entrance again.
But she understood—Baili Yue didn’t see her as a threat, so she spoke recklessly, confident Lu Meng wouldn’t dare repeat it.
Even if she did, Baili Yue could always twist the story.
Lu Meng shook her head, pretending to have an epiphany.
"Oh, so you don’t just want to be a princess—you want to be empress."
Baili Yue faltered briefly at Lu Meng’s boldness but quickly recovered.
"Stop twisting my words! But you’d better remember this—Brother Xuan’s rightful princess consort will be me."
Lu Meng nodded sagely. "You’re right. Your noble birth makes you the perfect match. Childhood sweethearts, secretly pledged to each other, your virtue tied to him—of course he has to marry you."
She leaned in, suddenly gossipy. "So, how many children do you plan to have with him?"
If Lu Meng had been wearing an army coat, she’d have looked like an old man idly chatting on a winter street, full of nosy curiosity.
"Have you even picked out their names yet?"
Baili Yue, after all, was still young—a year younger than Lu Meng’s current body—and shorter too.
Listening to the increasingly absurd questions from the Princess of Jian'an, Baili Yue felt her ears grow slightly warm, unaware that she had already been led astray by the princess's words.
"I was thinking of having three children, but one must carry the Baili surname. My father only has me as his daughter," Baili Yue said. "As for the names—"
"Ah, hold on. Don’t tell me. Something as important as naming children, you should discuss that personally with your 'Brother Xuan.' He’s already back."
As Lu Meng spoke, she raised a hand and pointed toward the entrance. "Look, isn’t that him? He’s standing right behind you."
"Your Highness, since you’re back, why not come in?" Lu Meng teased, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "No use hiding—your robe’s already peeking out. Are you too shy to face your dear little sister?"
"Little Hong, Du Long, make sure His Highness doesn’t leave. We’ve got some lifelong matters to discuss with him."
Lu Meng called out toward the entrance, confident her mercenary team would hear her.
She threw off the covers and got out of bed, carelessly slipping her feet into her shoes without properly wearing them, dragging them along as she wrapped an arm around the fiery girl’s slender waist.
"Come on, let’s go catch your 'Brother Xuan,'" she said, leading Baili Yue toward the entrance.
Wu Linxuan had indeed been back for a while. Seeing Princess Yinyue here, he had lingered outside, listening without rushing in.
He had wanted to hear what the two were discussing. The matter of Princess Yinyue was something Wu Linxuan had never intended to bring up with his princess consort.
Truthfully, Xin Ya’s analysis had been quite accurate.
If Wu Linxuan could leverage Prince Baili’s influence, he might just secure the Eastern Palace.
How could he possibly settle for just one consort?
But as he listened, his princess consort’s attitude turned out to be the complete opposite of what he had expected.
She showed no anger or panic at Princess Yinyue’s bold intrusion, nor at her disrespectful demands to usurp the position of princess consort.
Instead, she acted as if it had nothing to do with her, effortlessly steering the conversation and leading Princess Yinyue by the nose. Wu Linxuan couldn’t help but feel that his princess consort’s demeanor resembled that of someone taming a wild horse.
And then, before he knew it, he too had been "led" into the scene.
There were few moments in Wu Linxuan’s life where he had felt truly embarrassed. The last time was when his princess consort had exposed his callousness right in front of him. Today marked the second.
Gritting his teeth, Wu Linxuan lifted the tent flap and stepped inside. Running away or being caught at the entrance would have been even more humiliating.
After all, Lu Meng’s earlier shout had already summoned Du Long and Little Hong, who had swiftly taken their positions. Individually, they might not be a match for Wu Linxuan in combat, but together, delaying him would be easy.
Lu Meng, still holding the fiery girl, took two steps forward and came face-to-face with Wu Linxuan as he entered.
"Well, here’s your 'Brother Xuan,'" Lu Meng said, pushing Baili Yue toward him with a grin. "Princess Yinyue says she wants to marry you, become your princess consort, your empress, and bear you three children—though one must carry the Baili name."
She added cheerfully, "You two should discuss this properly. Why stop at three? Have eight or ten, like a litter of piglets—fill the halls with descendants!"
Only now did Baili Yue suddenly realize she had been played by the Princess of Jian'an.
How could she have said such things right in front of Brother Xuan? When had he even returned?
"Brother Xuan…" Baili Yue’s genuine affection for Wu Linxuan was evident. From the moment he entered the tent, her face had turned as red as a monkey’s backside.
The fierce, claw-baring demeanor she had shown earlier had completely vanished, replaced by the awkward fluster of a helpless kitten.
Oh, how adorable.
Lu Meng watched the two with amusement.
Wu Linxuan, meanwhile, felt like an actor forced onto a stage—playing the lead in a farce about being caught in the act.
Though he and Baili Yue had nothing between them, in Wu Linxuan’s plans, marrying the daughter of Prince Baili was an inevitable step if he wanted to secure the man’s support.
It was both an alliance and a means of control.
Yet now, he couldn’t understand why he felt like he’d been caught in some shameful act. As if all his carefully laid schemes and his unquestioned assumptions had suddenly become despicable under his princess consort’s piercing gaze.
He couldn’t even bring himself to meet her cool, knowing eyes.
For a brief moment, silence hung heavily among the three. Wu Linxuan frowned, at a loss for words.
"Brother Xuan—" Lu Meng suddenly gave Baili Yue another push from behind.
"Go on, discuss your wedding plans with your dear brother."
She shoved her straight into Wu Linxuan’s arms.
The little kitten of a princess stumbled forward, caught off guard.
But just as she was about to collide with Wu Linxuan, he sidestepped—swiftly avoiding her.
He should have caught her.
For the sake of Prince Baili’s influence, he should have at least pretended to be courteous. Yet he had dodged her on instinct—as if she were a venomous snake.
If Lu Meng had had melon seeds on hand, she’d have been cracking them open by now.
Baili Yue staggered several steps before regaining her balance, her expression one of stunned disbelief.
She turned to look at the man who, just hours earlier during the competition, had exchanged glances with her.
Her lips trembled as she bit down on them.
Then she turned to the Princess of Jian'an.
The woman she had assumed was weak and easily bullied now stood with her arms crossed, posture relaxed, her long hair loosely cascading down. Her red lips curled in a mocking smile, her eyes gleaming with lazy amusement—utterly devoid of the demure grace expected of noblewomen.
Leaning casually against the edge of a table, she exuded the roguish air of someone utterly unbothered, yet also the unshakable confidence of one who had already won.
Baili Yue knew she had lost today.
And as she replayed the princess consort’s words and actions since she had barged in, she realized she had been nothing but a clown, putting on a ridiculous show for someone else’s entertainment.
Never in her life had she suffered such humiliation. Her entire face burned with shame.
Without another word, she bolted for the entrance, shoving aside the tent flap and fleeing.
Wu Linxuan’s expression was grim, his lips pressed into a tight line.
Seeing Baili Yue run off, Lu Meng shifted her stance and said with a smirk, "Your Highness, aren’t you going after her?"
Only then did Wu Linxuan lift his heavy gaze from the ground and turn it toward Lu Meng’s face.
As expected, he found her eyes brimming with mockery and detachment.
"Should I make some room for you two?" Lu Meng made as if to walk past him toward the exit. "I’ll go fetch that little chili pepper for you, and you two can start planning how many children to have right here—"
As she passed Wu Linxuan, he seized her arm.
Before he could speak, Lu Meng wrenched free and snapped, "Stop fooling around!"
"This is serious business," she said. "Why would you turn away such a golden opportunity?"
"After all the effort I put into persuading her for you," Lu Meng shamelessly claimed credit, "the least you could do is appreciate it."
"Do you have any idea how much I praised you to make her want to bear your children?" She pointed at her lips. "Look, I’ve worn my tongue thin talking you up, Your Highness."
"After all, I pushed someone right into your arms—how could you still avoid it?"
Wu Linxuan gripped Lu Meng's arm and yanked her toward him, a fire of rage burning in his chest. Logically, this situation was ideal for him—his consort was being pragmatic, saving him the trouble of lengthy explanations.
Yet Wu Linxuan didn’t understand why he was so furious.
He felt like he was losing his mind.
Standing outside the door earlier, what had he even wanted to hear? He couldn’t make sense of it himself.
But one thing was clear—he couldn’t stand the sight of this woman acting indifferent.
He knew he shouldn’t ask. What good would it do?
Just like with the phoenix crown incident before, even if he got the answer he wanted, he wouldn’t act on it.
But as he stared into Lu Meng’s eyes—the woman who shared his bed, who had tangled with him in passion time and again—he couldn’t find himself reflected in her gaze.
How could her eyes not hold him?
How dare they not hold him!
The thought sent uncontrollable fury surging through him.
"She said she wants to be my consort—and you don’t care at all?!" Wu Linxuan’s voice was practically grinding his teeth.
Lu Meng flinched slightly at his roar, then quickly realized—he was suffering from that classic male lead syndrome.
His women had to fight over him, pine for him, or else he’d fixate on their lack of obsession.
So Lu Meng played along.
She slapped his hand away, her expression shifting dramatically.
"What good would caring do? Would His Highness swear off taking another woman for my sake?"
Lu Meng lowered her voice, feigning heartbreak. "Since I know it’s impossible, to avoid displeasing you—to keep you from thinking I’m some jealous shrew—I have no choice but to swallow my bitterness and let my tears fall inward…"
She bowed her head, letting her long lashes cast a sorrowful shadow over her face.
Truthfully, she did feel a pang of reluctance.
This little playmate of hers was too good. Lately, she’d been indulging so recklessly precisely because she knew their time was limited. And sure enough, today the rival woman had shown up.
Once Wu Linxuan married Princess Yinyue, he’d truly begin his climb to the throne. Lu Meng, staying out of the plot, would have to quietly retire to the inner courtyard.
Ah… Once the male lead stabilized his power struggle, maybe she could secretly find another playmate.
Though pulling that off would be tricky—this was, after all, an old-school angst novel. She’d have to test the waters carefully, see how the plot reacted. Because no matter how many jade toys she had, nothing compared to the warmth of the real thing.
Her downcast eyes and trembling lashes painted a picture of devastation.
Wu Linxuan’s anger evaporated instantly.
The fire in his chest froze into jagged icicles, stabbing him with unbearable discomfort.
His expression flickered through emotions, his lips parting several times—but he couldn’t bring himself to make a single promise.
He was like a child who’d thrown a tantrum for food he didn’t even want, only to lose his appetite when it was given to him.
Now all that remained was guilt.
He pulled Lu Meng into his arms, closing his eyes against the turmoil in his mind.
He reminded himself—he couldn’t afford to be shackled by sentiment.
At this stage, stepping forward might mean the abyss, but retreating meant the inferno.
In the battle for succession, those who failed never met kind ends.
Wu Linxuan hardened his resolve, though the guilt lingered.
Once in his embrace, Lu Meng snapped back to the present.
No more thoughts of the future—now was the time to seize the moment.
After spending so much time together, she could read Wu Linxuan’s guilt like an open book.
It’d be a waste not to exploit it, especially after all the effort she’d spent dealing with that little spitfire earlier.
That girl might have looked fiery, but Lu Meng knew—Wu Linxuan was the real spice.
So she let out a delicate, fake sob in his arms—all sound, no tears.
Then she murmured, "Just how many ‘dear sisters’ do you have?"
Wu Linxuan: "…" He stayed silent, his brow furrowing as if punched in the chest.
Lu Meng lifted her woeful face. "You even gave her a hair ribbon! A childhood pledge at ten years old!"
"That was because—" Wu Linxuan started to explain.
But Lu Meng clapped her hands over her ears. "I won’t listen, I won’t listen, I won’t listen!"
She didn’t care about their past—she just wanted to use this for her own unspoken purposes.
A moment later, she glared at him. "Take off your hair ribbon. Give it to me."
Wu Linxuan hesitated, unsure of her intentions.
"Now!" she demanded.
With no choice, he untied the ribbon, his eyes betraying unconscious remorse.
Lu Meng studied him, toying with the ribbon in her hands.
Then she said, "If you want me to let tonight go, you’ll have to agree to one thing."
"What?" he asked.
He knew he should be wary—this wasn’t the time for reckless promises. Yet some irrational part of him wanted to make amends.
Typical hypocrisy, Lu Meng thought, gripping the ribbon.
This little scoundrel.
"Go wash up first," she said. "I’ll tell you after."
She sat on the edge of the bed, falling silent. Wu Linxuan stood there helplessly before finally leaving to freshen up.
When he returned, only a single candle remained lit in the tent.
Lu Meng had also washed up, aided by her maids.
The room was dim, the air thick. Wu Linxuan carried the chill of cold water, his mind slightly clearer.
"What do you want me to agree to?" he asked, tension in his voice.
"Sit on the bed. Hold your arms out straight, wrists together."
"Why are you staring? Do it, or I’ll move back to the general’s manor tomorrow!"
Wu Linxuan sensed trouble, but the threat of her leaving—of reliving their last separation, that suffocating frustration—made him comply.
He sat on the bed, arms extended as instructed.
Lu Meng lingered by the table, drinking in the sight of him—damp, confused, utterly at her mercy.
One last look, she told herself. These opportunities were dwindling.
She burned the image of him into her mind before extinguishing the final candle.
Then she climbed onto the bed.
Wu Linxuan felt her approach and tensed. "What are you—"
His words died as realization struck.
"What are you doing?!"
"Release me this instant!"
"How dare you!"
"Zhangsun Lumeng," Wu Linxuan's voice seethed with fury, burning like an erupting volcano, "I swear, you truly have a death wish!"
Lu Meng swiftly tied a firm knot, thinking to herself—whether Zhangsun Lumeng lived or died, what did it have to do with her, Lu Meng?
