Chu Mingzhao was happily venting to herself in her mind, completely unaware that a crack had suddenly appeared in Pei Lin's smile.
His eyelashes trembled slightly. An incredible sound suddenly flooded into his ears.
—Good-looking, but his heart and liver are all black?
—A schemer? A player?
These words… who was saying them?
Pei Lin cast a subtle, sweeping glance around him.
The closest person to him was Chu Mingzhao and her maids and attendants behind her. Further away were clusters of court officials' family members chatting in small groups.
No one was speaking.
Those words just now hadn't come from anyone's mouth.
The smile in Pei Lin's eyes faded for a moment, and his gaze landed back on Chu Mingzhao's face without a trace.
In his twenty-three years of life, he had never been appraised on the color of his internal organs—heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—right to his face in such an unheard-of manner.
The woman before him was demurely twisting her handkerchief, looking like a shy, overwhelmed maiden caught off guard by his considerate concern.
The tips of her ears were crimson, her eyelashes fluttering, and even her breaths were soft and rapid.
She was exactly like a white butterfly that had strayed into a spring boudoir—reserved yet unconsciously alluring.
If you looked only at her face and her demeanor, she was the perfect picture of a maiden's budding affection, flawless in every way.
But Pei Lin had clearly sensed that those scathing, almost outrageous remarks seemed to have come from this direction.
So close that it was as if the speaker was standing right in front of him, talking directly to his face.
Pei Lin unobtrusively lowered his eyes, suppressing his surging shock beneath that three-tenths gentle smile.
He raised his hand and, as naturally as can be, took a plain white handkerchief from his sleeve, and handed it to Chu Mingzhao with a smile.
"Zhaozhao, there's some melted snow on your temple. Wipe it off."
Pei Lin's voice was tender. He leaned in slightly, and a faint scent of cold sandalwood enveloped Chu Mingzhao.
Those amorous peach-blossom eyes were filled with a focus that could make anyone dizzy.
If it had been the original Chu Mingzhao, she'd probably be already picking out names for their children by now.
But in her heart, Chu Mingzhao rolled her eyes so hard she nearly flipped her skull.
—What a load of bull! I’ve been keeping warm in the carriage with three charcoal braziers the whole way. Where the hell would I get melted snow?
Whip out a cheap handkerchief to seduce a decent woman? Pfft, you two-faced fox spirit!
When a scoundrel is being nice, he’s up to no good!
While cursing passionately in her head, Chu Mingzhao pretended to be flattered and extended the tips of her fingers to pinch the corner of the handkerchief.
"Thank you for your consideration, Your Highness. I... I'll do it myself."
Pei Lin's hand, holding the handkerchief, froze in midair.
He heard those rapid-fire, vulgar street curses loud and clear.
The voice was crisp, and even carried a hint of gritted teeth. It was a world apart from the demure, eyes-downcast, dignified and beautifully radiant young lady from the Prime Minister's residence in front of him.
A fox spirit seducing innocent women?
As the most favored prince of the Great Qian Dynasty, Pei Lin was used to flattery and sycophancy. Never had he been cursed at so creatively, right to his face.
The most absurd part was that only he seemed to hear the cursing, and its source was clearly this woman who appeared to be head-over-heels in love with him.
Interesting.
Extremely interesting.
Instead of backing off, Pei Lin stepped closer. A glimmer of intrigued amusement rose in his usually warm eyes.
Not only did he not withdraw his hand, but he moved his fingers, lightly rubbing the back of Chu Mingzhao's hand through the handkerchief.
"Zhaozhao, you seem a little different today," Pei Lin said in a low voice, laced with a seductive hoarseness. "Could it be that you're still feeling distant with me because of the arranged marriage? You know my heart. From the time we were young, you've always been the one I've cared for."
The hair on Chu Mingzhao's entire body stood on end.
—Help! Fox spirit! Fox spirit! Fox spirit! Stay away from me! I don't want to be seduced!!
Hearing the frenzied, stomping-furious female voice in his head, and looking at this blushing, shy, affectedly posturing girl before him, Pei Lin genuinely wanted to laugh.
So this is what was in the head of the eldest Miss Chu?
All that arrogant, willful, head-over-heels-for-him act... was it all an act?
Interesting. Positively fascinating.
He suddenly didn't want to let her off so quickly. He wanted to see what other creative things she would say to herself.
Pei Lin’s fingers tightened slightly, just as he was about to probe further, when a clear voice with a hint of unruliness interrupted them.
"Third Brother!"
The Seventh Prince, Pei Yuan, strode over energetically. His hair was tied up in a high ponytail, he walked with a confident stride, and he was very tall.
Standing next to Pei Lin, who was as gentle as jade, they were two completely contrasting but equally breathtaking extremes.
Pei Yuan barged in unceremoniously, like a loach, squeezing himself between the two of them. He used his broad shoulders to nudge Pei Lin half a step aside and casually draped his arm over Pei Lin’s neck.
"Third Brother, what are you dawdling over here for? Father will be here soon. The ministers are all waiting at the banquet to toast you!"
Pei Yuan grinned, flashing a mouthful of brilliant white teeth.
His mood dampened, but Pei Lin's warmth didn’t waver. He calmly pulled Pei Yuan's arm down and shook his head in exasperation. "You're always so hasty and unrefined. Didn’t you see I was catching up with Miss Chu?"
Pei Yuan then turned his head and appraised Chu Mingzhao from head to toe, as if he had just noticed her.
Chu Mingzhao felt creeped out by his stare.
According to the original novel, this Seventh Prince was a brusque martial arts brute with a bad temper. The original Chu Mingzhao had fawned over him with gifts to curry favor for Pei Lin’s sake.
She quickly bent her knees and curtsied flatteringly. "Your subject pays respects to the Seventh Prince."
Pei Yuan waved his hand dismissively.
"Oh, stop that. No need for all this bowing and scraping every day. Isn't that tiring?"
As he spoke, his gaze casually passed over Pei Lin's shoulder and locked directly onto Chu Mingzhao's face.
He stared at her for a good long while. Chu Mingzhao’s heart was pounding, and she started to wonder if her beauty mark had gotten crooked.
Just as Chu Mingzhao couldn’t bear the oppressive stare and was about to raise her hand to touch her cheek, the notoriously violent, wild, and untamable Seventh Prince suddenly moved.
The handsome, devil-may-care expression on his face contorted, looking like a facial nerve spasm. He winked at her forcefully with his left eye, baring a bizarre smile.
Immediately afterward, his right hand quickly made an incredibly strange gesture in front of his body—
Making a circle with the thumb and index finger, the remaining three fingers sticking straight up.
While Chu Mingzhao was thoroughly bewildered, he suddenly and silently turned his head away, as if nothing had happened.
Chu Mingzhao: …?
Her brain short-circuited on the spot.
What the hell? Had all the princes of the Great Qian Dynasty been possessed by some evil wind or something?
One was smiling like a fox spirit that had just come to life, the other had a twitching eyelid like he was having a seizure.
And that gesture—was she seeing things?
Had Pei Yuan just flashed her an "OK" sign?!
