Jiu Yue felt a bit dazed.
But upon hearing Sima Qing’s words just now, she recalled that Nangong Xun had once mentioned Sima Qing was on good terms with his father.
Wait—
How was she supposed to explain her acquaintance with Nangong Xun?
Jiu Yue froze for a moment, then mechanically turned her head, only to meet Sima Qing’s faintly amused gaze.
"Never thought Your Highness would be so well-connected with the martial artists of Tianqi," he said, picking up his chopsticks to serve her food. "Come to think of it, I’ve never heard Your Highness speak of your past."
Jiu Yue: "...Haha, nothing worth mentioning."
She braced herself and met his eyes. "Before returning to Great Yan, I was a beggar in your Tianqi."
Sima Qing: "..."
This topic was far too delicate to dwell on. Jiu Yue hastily piled food onto his plate, awkwardly steering the conversation elsewhere. "Didn’t you say this dish was delicious last time? I had them make extra today—eat up!"
Lowering his gaze to the exquisite dishes in his bowl, Sima Qing obliged and didn’t press further.
Jiu Yue exhaled in relief, though she couldn’t shake the frustration of being cornered.
The system chimed in, smug as ever, "Exactly. You can’t wear that mask forever, can you? What’s there to fear, host?"
Jiu Yue fell into thought.
It wasn’t exactly fear… She couldn’t quite put it into words, but she suddenly felt a little ridiculous for overthinking.
Her mood grew oddly unsettled as she glanced up at Sima Qing, who was quietly eating.
Was there really anything to fear?
Their marriage alliance was purely political, binding Great Yan and Tianqi. Even if he discovered that the former Jiu Yue was still alive—now Yan Zhaoning—what could he do? Even if he dared report it to the Tianqi emperor, the emperor wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her.
She had the might of Great Yan behind her!
Besides, after spending time together, Jiu Yue had noticed an air of exhaustion emanating from Sima Qing, deep and unshakable.
He probably had no desire to stir up more conflict either, right?
With that in mind, Jiu Yue suddenly felt they could have an honest talk.
She set down her chopsticks, mustering the courage to speak—
But Sima Qing chose that exact moment to look up at her.
Jiu Yue faltered, the words dying on her lips under his calm stare.
"W-what’s wrong?" she asked stiffly.
"Your Highness," Sima Qing said, his tone deliberate, "don’t even think about taking a consort."
Jiu Yue: "..."
Her eyes widened in shock. "When did I ever mention taking a consort?!"
"Good." He lowered his gaze. "Your Highness must have heard—I have less than four or five years left. For the sake of our nations, I hope you’ll let me die in peace."
Jiu Yue: "..."
So if she took a consort, he’d die with regrets?
That… was tragic.
Her gaze softened with pity, and she thumped her chest in assurance. "Don’t worry, I’ll take responsibility for you."
"Many thanks, Your Highness." He looked up with a smile.
It was just an ordinary glance, yet Jiu Yue inexplicably flustered. Damn it—since when could Sima Qing’s mocking, teasing eyes hold such tenderness?!
Struck dumb, she schooled her expression and excused herself to go downstairs.
The cold breeze cleared her head, and she shook it off.
Four or five years… Who knew? She might leave this world before Sima Qing did.
Thinking this, she pulled up the progress bar in her mind and was stunned to see it had jumped from 53% to 65%!
How had it risen so fast?!
She hadn’t done anything noteworthy!
The metrics were easier than she’d expected.
Her mood lifted slightly, but then she noticed the colored segments within the progress bar.
Had those been there before?
Puzzled, she summoned the system. "What do these colors mean? Degrees of progress?"
"They represent the individual angst and romance values between you two—" The system cut itself off in surprise. "Host, you can see them now?"
Jiu Yue was equally startled. "I couldn’t last time, but they’re clear now."
The system was baffled until it noticed the latest 1% increase was a faint purple hue. Then it understood.
"Ah, it’s nothing," the system said airily. "You just felt a flicker of attraction toward Sima Qing, so the romance value rose by 1%. Now that your metrics aren’t zero, you can see the breakdown."
"Oh, just a flicker? I thought the progress bar was glitch—" She froze.
A… flicker of attraction?!
Jiu Yue clutched her chest in horror. "You must be mistaken!"
When had she felt anything?! She’d been terrified!
The system smiled knowingly and said no more.
With the wedding approaching, Jiu Yue no longer stayed at the princess’s residence—which suited her just fine.
She wasn’t ready to face Sima Qing yet.
And finally, she could take off the mask.
Despite not doing any hard labor, Jiu Yue felt utterly drained. She shook her head, pushing the matter aside for now.
While idly swinging from a beam to clear her mind, Lianqiao rushed in. "Your Highness, the Sixth Prince is here."
Jiu Yue blinked, flipping down just as Yan Zhouheng strode in with a solemn expression.
"Greetings, Crown Princess." Yan Zhouheng bowed properly.
"No need for formalities." Jiu Yue tossed him a fruit, biting into one herself as she sprawled on the couch. "What brings you here?"
Yan Zhouheng fumbled with the sudden fruit, then stared at Jiu Yue’s careless posture—the epitome of "unprincely" his mother often scolded.
Too young to hide his thoughts, his eyes briefly flickered with envy. Noticing, Jiu Yue got up and led him to the backyard.
"Did your sister say anything to you before she left?" she asked as they walked.
Yan Zhouheng shook his head. "She only told me to study hard and not disappoint Father, Mother, or the Grand Tutor."
Jiu Yue glanced at him.
Yan Zhouheng had been groomed as a crown prince candidate, and his talent was undeniable—even her grandfather praised his essays.
"Do you like the way they’re raising you?" she asked suddenly.
Yan Zhouheng hesitated, momentarily lost, then shook his head. "I don’t know."
Jiu Yue rephrased. "Do you dislike it?"
Again, he shook his head. "Not really."
Jiu Yue smiled but said nothing more.
"Your cat’s over there. Go play." She led him to a corner of the yard where a kitten dozed on a cushioned perch.
Yan Zhouheng pressed his lips together, suppressing a grin, and turned to thank her—only to find Jiu Yue already swinging lazily from a beam again.
Yan Zhouheng: "..."
His sister had called the Crown Princess composed and dignified…?
Yan Zhouheng fell into silence.
