Wu Linxuan looked at Lu Meng with a cold sneer. He could punish her right now, watching her facade crumble as she collapsed before him, begging for mercy and groveling like a dog.
But Wu Linxuan suppressed his anger. He wanted to see what other tricks she had up her sleeve—just how bold she dared to be, and what her true motives were!
Lu Meng, of course, had no idea what kind of "late-stage delusional nonsense" was running through Wu Linxuan’s mind.
Even if she had known, she wouldn’t have been surprised. After all, this was a classic early-era male lead—his thought process was bound to be irrational. Otherwise, how could there be so many obvious misunderstandings that could be resolved with a single sentence, yet drag on into endless torment?
Even if he had a mind of intricate brilliance and the ability to govern the world, he’d still have to dumb himself down at critical moments to fit the plot.
So even though Lu Meng knew nothing, the moment she saw the male lead narrow his eyes, sharp as knives slicing through the air toward her, she knew he was still displeased. He was probably just biding his time to kill her…
She immediately straightened up and said to the maid, "Take this away! How could you serve something that’s not even cooked properly?"
Xin Ya’s smile also faltered. The red bean porridge had been her idea—she’d ordered the kitchen to prepare it while fetching clothes earlier, deliberately using unsoaked beans and boiling them just twice before serving.
For newlyweds after their first night together, it was customary to eat this half-cooked porridge. The symbolism was obvious—it meant "fertility."
The soft, well-cooked red bean porridge Lu Meng had earlier was from last night’s wedding, when the prince hadn’t stayed over, leaving the porridge to stew far too long.
Xin Ya was sharp. Seeing Prince Jian'an’s stern expression, she wondered—had things not gone well?
Men’s first time was often quick, and given the mess of water all over the floor from their earlier… activities, plus washing and dressing, the whole affair hadn’t taken long. But that was perfectly normal—the prince probably just didn’t know.
Xin Ya had been by Prince Jian'an’s side since he was fourteen. Initially… she had been his "teaching aunt."
Back then, Prince Jian'an hadn’t yet been enfeoffed or established his own household. Like the other imperial princes, he lived in the palace’s royal quarters.
At fourteen, every prince was assigned an experienced woman to guide him into adulthood—a rite of passage.
Xin Ya had been a model of virtue and talent in the palace, beautiful yet not seductive. Her dream had been to become a palace official, not to marry when she came of age. In her eyes, men were unreliable—even family. She had learned that young, sold into the palace by her own parents.
Being chosen to serve a prince meant that if she performed well and pleased him, she’d become his concubine. For Xin Ya, who aspired to be a palace official, it was a devastating blow. She was much older than the third prince—becoming his concubine would mean being locked away in the inner chambers, waiting to die.
But she spent two nights in the third prince’s quarters without sharing his bed. He confessed he couldn’t accept a stranger and knew she had no desire to be a concubine. So they struck a deal, fooling the palace attendants. Xin Ya left the palace as his nominal concubine.
Now, the third prince had been enfeoffed as Prince Jian'an, and she had become one of his trusted aides, managing his estates.
And in all these years, Prince Jian'an had never taken a woman… It seemed this was his first experience with romance.
Xin Ya thought for a moment, then quickly withdrew with the servants, planning to send for some… instructional materials.
Soon, the room was empty again except for Lu Meng and Wu Linxuan.
Lu Meng didn’t understand.
Why hadn’t the male lead left yet?
Their thoughts were worlds apart, each harboring their own schemes as they sat across the table in silence so thick… it could’ve been lifted straight from a horror movie.
This wasn’t right. Lu Meng vaguely remembered that in the novel, Zhangsun Lumeng and the male lead had hardly any peaceful moments alone together.
Wasn’t that the very thing the tragic heroine longed for but could never have?
The proper dynamic for a tragic romance should’ve been—misunderstanding, drama, misunderstanding, drama, with their only interactions being violent and physical.
Even though Lu Meng’s transmigration had altered the plot, she hadn’t reached a point where she and the male lead could just… coexist peacefully, had she?
Today, she’d nearly scalded him into a plucked chicken, yet here he was, stubbornly planted in his seat like glue.
Since when did imperial power struggles leave so much free time?
Guess it was true—whether in novels or dramas, whether it was a domineering CEO or an ancient prince, they could all afford to waste time instead of handling actual business.
"Um… Your Highness." Lu Meng finally broke under the funeral-like atmosphere.
She spoke first: "It’s almost dinnertime. Would you like to dine here tonight?"
Please say no! I don’t want indigestion!
Fortunately, the male lead finally snapped back to normal. He rose from the table, looking down at her with icy disdain as he delivered a double-edged remark: "Wishful thinking."
Then he turned and swept out of the room.
Lu Meng blinked in confusion before realizing he’d been referring to her invitation. She couldn’t help but chuckle.
"Wow, this guy’s such a tsundere," she muttered to herself.
He looked like the aloof immortal or sadistic villain type—all sharp edges and cold fury.
Who knew he’d be a little tsundere?
That evening, Lu Meng enjoyed her meal immensely. Though lacking modern seasonings, the spread was delicious. She devoured two bowls of rice, stuffing herself until her belly was round, then let the maids help her wash up before turning in early.
Ancient settings were so boring—no phones to scroll through, and reading romance novels by candlelight strained her eyes. Plus, the language in those books was too archaic for her taste.
So she went to bed early.
And then woke up in the middle of the night to vomit.
She retched violently, as if trying to expel her own organs.
Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned against Xin Ya’s ample bosom, suddenly missing her mom a little.
Sickness made people vulnerable—but only a little.
Her modern life had been a patchwork of split and reassembled families. She was the unwanted cabbage—okay, that was an exaggeration. She hadn’t stayed with either parent, living off their alimony before dropping out to sell bubble tea.
Later, her parents had new children with their new partners. She got along fine visiting either household, but neither was truly home. So she didn’t feel any desperate urge to return after transmigrating. She could live anywhere.
Her parents would grieve if they knew she was gone—but not devastated.
And here? She was being pampered. It was practically paradise.
Lu Meng’s melancholy evaporated when she spotted the pure gold crown still displayed on the shelf.
Once her stomach was empty, she sipped some water and felt much better.
Xin Ya helped her back to bed, and Lu Meng wondered—was this some kind of post-transmigration adjustment sickness?
Soon, the palace physician arrived and diagnosed her with… indigestion.
In short: she’d overeaten.
After the physician left, Xin Ya returned. Lu Meng buried herself under the blankets, embarrassed and aware that this was out of character. But she was too tired to think of a fix tonight. She’d deal with it tomorrow.
This wasn’t that big of a deal… right?
"Madam Meng," Xin Ya's voice was gentle as she tucked the blankets around Lu Meng with delicate care, reminiscent of how Lu Meng's mother had done when she was very young.
Lu Meng peeked out from under the covers with one eye, her usual wariness and vigilance from since she arrived in this world softened by the emotional stirrings of the evening. Her gaze at Xin Ya even held a trace of dependency.
It was the kind of moment when overeating led to a rare glimpse of one's true self.
"It's almost Yin hour. Will Madam Meng still be going to light the lamp for His Highness today?" Xin Ya asked softly.
Lu Meng, now in her "true self," immediately shook her head, her movements as exaggerated as a spinning rattle-drum.
Was she insane? She had nearly vomited her guts out last night—why would she go light the lamp for the male lead now?
She could support her boss going to court in spirit, but working while sick was out of the question. As the saying went, the fear of death was the ultimate motivator.
Right now, she was miserable. Unless it was a life-or-death situation like yesterday's summons from the Empress Dowager, she wasn't moving.
Seeing her like this, Xin Ya curved her lips slightly.
Prince Jian'an appeared mature and steady, but he was only eighteen this year. This Madam Meng was even a year younger—just a child in Xin Ya's eyes. To her, this was nothing more than a lovers' spat.
After all, when the prince had left before dinner, he hadn't looked happy either. Neither of them understood the ways of love—it was likely neither had enjoyed the day.
"Very well, then Madam Meng should rest." Xin Ya stood and extinguished all but one candle.
Lu Meng fully intended to sleep, but halfway between wakefulness and dreams, she jolted awake again.
She remembered how yesterday morning, in her effort to understand the household dynamics, she had volunteered to light the lamp for the male lead. He had misunderstood, thinking she insisted on going, and had ordered her to continue doing so in the future.
Lu Meng truly didn’t want to go, but if the prince didn’t see her there… would he be angry?
The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. Just as Xin Ya was quietly retreating, Lu Meng called out to her.
"Nanny, are you going to rest too?"
Xin Ya stopped, turned back, and approached the bedside. "No, this servant will keep watch over Madam Meng tonight."
It was the rule—no servant in the courtyard would sleep tonight, not after the mistress had just been seen by a physician.
Lu Meng’s eyes flickered with an idea.
"Then, could you…" She paused, nearly slipping into pleading before remembering her status as the "mistress." She quickly rephrased, "Then go light the lamp for His Highness in my stead."
Xin Ya responded immediately, "As you wish."
Only after Xin Ya left did Lu Meng finally relax enough to sleep.
Meanwhile, Wu Linxuan, who had wasted half a day at his concubine’s quarters yesterday and consequently worked late into the night only to rise early for court, discovered that the very culprit responsible for his exhaustion hadn’t come to light his lamp this morning!
Wu Linxuan was a man of grand ambitions. Ordinarily, he paid little attention to trivial matters within the palace—such as who lit his lamp.
Otherwise, Nanny Wu wouldn’t have grown so audacious before being discovered.
But now, this newly wedded concubine had insisted on lighting his lamp, crying when refused, only to not show up when permitted!
Wu Linxuan stared at Xin Ya standing obediently nearby, and a surge of fury—ignited from the spot where he’d been scalded yesterday—shot straight to the crown of his head.
"Where is she?" Wu Linxuan strode to the brightly lit entrance, struggling to suppress his temper but failing.
He turned sharply to Xin Ya, his voice icy. "Didn’t Madam Meng weep and beg to light this prince’s lamp? Why isn’t she here?"
Xin Ya’s eyes flickered with surprise. Wu Linxuan had been called "inscrutable" by his enemies since childhood—a man whose emotions were so deeply buried, they must be twisted beyond recognition.
For him to display such open irritation now… Xin Ya hesitated before replying, "After Your Highness left yesterday, Madam Meng was… distressed. She forced herself to eat far too much at dinner—enough for two people. Last night, she suffered from indigestion and vomited incessantly."
She continued, "She only took medicine half an hour ago and is too weak to rise. Yet she refused to sleep, repeatedly instructing this servant to come in her stead, to light Your Highness’s lamp and see you off to court."
Words, truly, were an art. In just a few sentences, Xin Ya transformed Lu Meng—currently dead asleep—into a pitiful, lovesick maiden, as if Lu Meng had been so heartbroken over missing dinner with Wu Linxuan that she sought to punish herself, nearly to the point of death.
Had the original host possessed a nanny like Xin Ya—one who had served several favored imperial consorts—she might not have suffered so cruelly at the male lead’s hands.
Alas, the original protagonist had neither the skill to complain nor such a formidable nanny.
Sure enough, Wu Linxuan fell silent for a moment, picturing his Madam Meng sorrowfully eating his share of the meal in his absence, only to suffer through the night. The fire in his head cooled by half.
Seizing the moment, Xin Ya asked, "Does Your Highness have any words for this servant to relay to Madam Meng?"
Wu Linxuan scoffed. This woman had lost her position due to her own scheming—he was already showing mercy by not punishing her further. And now she wanted him to send her a message?
With a derisive laugh, he flicked his sleeve and boarded the carriage, treating the matter of his "gravely ill" concubine with utter disdain.
A classic early-era scoundrel.
Yet Xin Ya watched him stride haughtily into the carriage with an "I understand" look in her eyes.
In her view, it was rare for the prince to show such concern for a woman. Xin Ya had lived well these years, indebted to his kindness. Naturally, she would repay him by taking good care of Madam Meng and smoothing over their minor lovers’ quarrels.
Just as Xin Ya turned to leave, Wu Linxuan pushed open the carriage window and coldly ordered, "Tell her to come light the lamp once she’s recovered."
If he couldn’t sleep well, why should the woman who cost him his position rest easy?
Besides, hadn’t she schemed relentlessly to get close to him? If she’d vomited herself sick yet still sent someone to flaunt her suffering, wasn’t it all just an act to win his pity?
Wu Linxuan had seen every trick in the book—did she really think he’d fall for such a weak, feminine ploy? Let her come. He’d uncover her fox tail sooner or later.
After the carriage departed, Xin Ya returned with Wu Linxuan’s "greetings."
Unaware that a single night’s sleep had turned her into a cunning vixen in his eyes, Lu Meng slept soundly until noon. By the time she woke, her stomach was growling with hunger—youth and resilience had restored her appetite.
But when she sat down to eat, she found only bland congee and side dishes on the table.
The drastic drop in meal quality killed her appetite instantly.
To Xin Ya, however, this only confirmed her longing for the prince.
Approaching gently, Xin Ya coaxed, "Even if Madam Meng has no appetite or feels unwell, please eat a little. His Highness was deeply concerned for you this morning. Before leaving for court, he specifically instructed this servant to ensure you recover quickly so you may accompany him again."
Lu Meng’s eyes widened—not because she believed Wu Linxuan actually cared, but at the sheer audacity of the lie.
How many romance novels had she read? She knew the tropes all too well—only the secondary male lead would fuss over whether the female lead in a tragic story was taking care of her health.
Her wide-eyed glare wasn’t shock—it was fury!
What now? Was she seriously stuck with this early-morning chore no matter what?
The male lead was clearly setting her up!
Lu Meng angrily downed two bowls of porridge. Health was her top priority—she needed to build herself up.
Xin Ya watched as Lady Meng ate after hearing her message and immediately started planning. She’d make a trip out today to pick up some high-quality goods. With the newlyweds still in their honeymoon phase, full of affection, maybe they could conceive in one go.
After finishing her meal, Lu Meng heard Xin Ya was heading out to shop for household supplies and was instantly green with envy. But it was only her second day married—she hadn’t even made her ceremonial return visit to her family yet. By tradition, she couldn’t possibly step outside the prince’s manor.
Lu Meng wasn’t ignorant enough to ask, and doing so would’ve shattered her character’s image anyway.
Still, the itch was unbearable. Finally, she ordered, "Bring me back some street snacks."
That couldn’t count as breaking character, right?
Xin Ya showed no sign of surprise, smiling gently instead. "What would Lady Meng like?"
"Just… a bit of everything." Lu Meng thought to herself—I’m loaded now, why choose? Kids pick favorites, not me!
Xin Ya agreed and left, but as nightfall approached, she still hadn’t returned. Lu Meng grew restless. Dinner was more bland porridge and side dishes—she’d been counting on those snacks to fill her up!
In truth, Xin Ya had arrived back at the manor a quarter-hour earlier and gone straight to Wu Linxuan’s quarters.
Earlier, a maid claiming to serve the Vice Minister of Revenue’s household had discreetly intercepted one of Xin Ya’s shopping companions, bribing her to deliver a letter to Lu Meng.
Xin Ya, loyal to Wu Linxuan and sharp as a palace veteran, noticed the girl’s evasive eyes and instantly sensed trouble.
Through a mix of threats and coaxing, she soon pried the letter loose.
Wu Linxuan opened it, read it, then resealed it, his expression icy.
"Give her the letter," he told Xin Ya. "Do whatever she asks afterward."
The fox’s tail was already out—and so soon. Wu Linxuan radiated cold disdain. Pathetic.
