The moment Shen Jinghong lifted the door curtain and stepped inside, his eyes met those of the Crown Prince.
The air seemed to freeze, and even the doorway appeared to tremble along with it.
Shen Jinghong wore a crimson-and-silver brocade robe, fastened at the waist with a white jade belt. His hair was tied up with a red-gold hairpin, and his entire person was as dazzling as peach blossoms in March blooming across a winter snowfield.
In his hand, he carried a food box. Golden almond patterns had been painted across its lacquered surface.
It was clearly a choice creation from the Shen household kitchen.
Leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, the Crown Prince wore a faint, cold smile. His voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it carried an unmistakably mocking edge.
“Shen Jinghong, how many times a day do you run to the Yongning Marquis’s residence? The Imperial College is on break, so you’ve stopped going home altogether?”
Shen Jinghong’s peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly, but the curve of his lips did not change in the slightest.
He set the food box on the table and opened the lid. Inside was a delicate plate of almond tea cakes.
“Didn’t Your Highness come here as well? I’m only bringing some food for my classmate. That isn’t against the law, is it?”
Shen Jinghong’s voice was languid, carrying the innate arrogance of someone born to privilege. Yet the amusement in his eyes did not reach their depths.
The Crown Prince’s expression darkened.
Shi Huai lifted his teacup and took a sip. His gaze swept back and forth between the two men before he shifted it away as though nothing had happened.
He lowered his head, looking as if the matter had nothing to do with him.
Standing by the door, Qinghe watched the undercurrents surging between the Crown Prince and Shen Jinghong. Her palms were slick with sweat as she twisted her handkerchief again and again, nearly wringing it to shreds.
She secretly glanced at Shi Huai, only to find him sitting with his head bowed, his expression so calm that it was as though there weren’t two men in the room competing for his affection.
The Crown Prince drew a deep breath and forced down the anger boiling inside him. He turned away from Shen Jinghong and looked back at Shi Huai, his voice softening considerably.
“Shi Huai, I’m holding a banquet in the Eastern Palace. I’d like to invite you.”
Shi Huai lifted his head. His voice was clear and gentle, with a warmth that made refusing him seem almost impossible.
“Your Highness, I haven’t been feeling well these past few days. I’m afraid I won’t be able to go out.”
The Crown Prince’s expression changed at once, anticipation turning into concern. He leaned forward, nearly rising from his chair, his voice tightening with urgency.
“What’s wrong? I’ll have the imperial physician come and examine you.”
“There’s no need, Your Highness. It’s only a slight chill. A few days of rest will be enough.”
Shi Huai shook his head, a faint smile resting on his lips.
Yet the distance in his manner was perfectly clear, like a transparent wall of glass—visible, but impossible to pass through.
Listening to the exchange from the side, Shen Jinghong finally let the amusement in his eyes show. His expression was full of undisguised schadenfreude and smug satisfaction.
He picked up the teacup on the table and took a leisurely sip, deliberately letting out a small, contented sigh. Then, in a voice neither loud nor soft, he said, “Your Highness, since Shi Huai isn’t feeling well, you shouldn’t force him.”
The Crown Prince turned and glared at Shen Jinghong. The chill in his gaze was like shards of ice from the dead of winter, pelting Shen Jinghong one after another.
Shen Jinghong met his stare without changing expression. The smile in his peach-blossom eyes did not diminish in the slightest.
He even raised an eyebrow.
The look was so infuriating that the Crown Prince wanted nothing more than to flip the table and punch him squarely in the face.
Just then, Tangerine jumped down from the windowsill.
With elegant steps, it walked over to Shi Huai’s feet and rubbed its head against his boot.
“Meow,” it called, its voice soft and sweet.
Shi Huai bent down, scooped Tangerine up, and placed the cat on his lap. His fingers gently scratched beneath its chin.
The orange cat immediately began to purr with contentment, narrowing its eyes as it pushed its head into Shi Huai’s palm.
The Crown Prince and Shen Jinghong both turned their gazes toward the orange cat, and both felt an inexplicable surge of jealousy.
They were jealous of a cat.
Realizing this, the Crown Prince and Shen Jinghong simultaneously cursed themselves inwardly for being so hopeless.
Yet their gazes remained fixed on the hands with which Shi Huai stroked the cat, unable to look away.
Shi Huai’s fingers were long and fair, their joints distinct without being harsh. His fingertips were rounded and full, his nails trimmed neat and clean.
They moved through Tangerine’s orange fur like an artist’s hands caressing his proudest masterpiece.
The Crown Prince’s throat bobbed. He picked up the teacup on the table and drained a large mouthful.
The tea was cold. Its bitter taste exploded across his tongue, leaving him bitter from head to toe.
Inside his sleeve, Shen Jinghong clenched his fingers. His knuckles turned white several times, and the light in his eyes flickered between brightness and shadow. That lazy smile remained fixed at the corners of his lips.
Wang Ren was the third to arrive.
He wore a dark green brocade robe, and two deep dimples sank into his round cheeks.
Carrying a food box and a paper-wrapped parcel, he ran inside, panting for breath.
The moment he entered, he began shouting, “Shi Huai, Shi Huai! I had my cook make the crab roe buns you love most! And I brought a packet of newly arrived Longjing tea too! Try them!”
Wang Ren’s booming voice echoed several times through the small main hall, startling Tangerine into leaping off Shi Huai’s lap.
With a startled “meow,” it darted beneath the table.
Its round eyes warily watched the heedless fat man.
Wang Ren placed the food box and paper parcel on the table. Only then did he notice that the Crown Prince and Shen Jinghong were both there.
The smile on his face froze for an instant before he quickly returned to his usual honest, good-natured expression. He properly bowed to the Crown Prince.
“This student pays his respects to Your Highness. May Your Highness enjoy boundless blessings.”
The Crown Prince waved a hand dismissively. His gaze swept over the two food containers, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
“Wang Ren, you certainly have a talent for getting news.”
Wang Ren scratched his head and gave a few foolish chuckles. From the food box, he took out a steamer basket of crab roe buns and placed it in front of Shi Huai.
Steam billowed from the buns, carrying an enticing savory fragrance. Their plump white wrappers were crowned with golden crab roe, making them look utterly irresistible.
Shi Huai picked up a crab roe bun and took a bite. The rich, delicious broth burst into his mouth.
He narrowed his eyes, wearing the satisfied expression of a cat that had just been fed to fullness.
Watching him squint like that, Wang Ren’s heart pounded like a war drum. The dimples in his cheeks deepened and softened by turns.
Shen Jinghong looked at Wang Ren’s utterly smitten expression, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly. A trace of disdain flashed through his eyes.
He took the almond tea cakes from the food box he had brought and placed them in front of Shi Huai. His voice was languid, edged with provocation.
“Shi Huai, try this. It’s much better than crab roe buns.”
Shi Huai obediently set down the half-eaten crab roe bun and turned his attention to the almond tea cakes in the celadon dish.
The ivory-white cakes were lustrous as jade, their surfaces coated in a thin sheen that made them seem as though they had just been lifted from morning dew.
Up close, fine, indistinct patterns could be seen within the cakes, resembling faint cracks beneath a layer of ice.
They were the traces left by almond fragments blending with rice milk.
When a porcelain spoon gently scooped into one, its texture felt soft and yielding, yet possessed a barely perceptible resilience.
As the spoon sank in, the cake trembled ever so slightly.
The instant she put it in her mouth, the first thing she noticed was the coolness on the tip of her tongue.
A moment later, the pastry melted away.
“Delicious!”
