While Jiu Yue was busy with official duties, Sima Qing devoted himself to improving his culinary skills. After making a special trip to the imperial kitchen to learn, he returned to the Eastern Palace and spent an entire day crafting a dish so unpalatable that even the dogs wouldn’t eat it.
Lianqiao: "……"
Qiu Dongfang & Mei Wuchang: "……"
Sima Qing ate it without batting an eye—then spent the next day and night vomiting.
Two days later, Mei Wuchang bravely and sincerely offered some advice: "Royal Consort, sometimes one must learn to accept one’s imperfections."
Qiu Dongfang & Lianqiao: "……"
Sima Qing ate it again and was so nauseated he couldn’t eat for two days.
Three days after that, Qiu Dongfang picked up his chopsticks with the air of a man marching to his death… only to be pleasantly surprised. "Royal Consort, this actually tastes decent now!"
Mei Wuchang and the dog both enjoyed it.
Sima Qing finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He prepared for Jiu Yue’s return, memorizing the recipe and waiting—from dawn till dusk, then dusk till dawn again. Three days passed, and there was still no sign of her.
Even Lianqiao found it strange this time. "Has Her Highness really been this busy?" She hadn’t seen the princess in nearly two weeks!
Sima Qing casually passed by her and smiled politely. "Tell me… have we moved into the wrong residence?"
Lianqiao froze.
Then, in a melancholic tone, he added, "This doesn’t feel like the Eastern Palace. It feels more like the Cold Palace."
Lianqiao: "……"
Her lips twitched, and she couldn’t help but pity the royal consort. Barely married, and he’d already been left alone for half a month… At this rate, he wasn’t far from losing his mind.
Mei Wuchang quickly sidled up to her. "Sister Lianqiao, if this keeps up, the Eastern Palace really will turn into the Cold Palace. That wouldn’t be good, would it? Think you could lend a hand?"
Lianqiao was fully on board.
She, too, was worried something might have happened to Her Highness.
So Sima Qing immediately retreated into the kitchen and meticulously prepared a meal. Half an hour later, Lianqiao set off with the Eastern Palace’s hopes in hand.
……
In the imperial study.
Emperor Yan, who had been pulling all-nighters with his daughter, finally reached his limit.
"Zhaoning, the New Year’s still a ways off…" He turned to Jiu Yue, who was buried in paperwork, and urged, "Why don’t you go back and get some rest?"
Jiu Yue glanced at the dark circles under her father’s eyes and felt a pang of guilt.
Her system piped up, "You’re abusing an old man by exploiting your own good health."
Jiu Yue: "……"
Her lips twitched. She rubbed her temples and looked at the stack of completed memorials.
"Father is right. I’ll finish this last one and return to the palace."
Despite her words, Emperor Yan could hear the reluctance in her tone.
"Zhaoning, are you… unhappy with that royal consort of yours?" He frowned. "We don’t have to keep him. If you’re displeased, just say the word—your father has plenty of ways to persuade him."
Jiu Yue: "……"
Her eyelid twitched. "Father, it’s nothing like that."
The truth was, she just hadn’t figured out how to face Sima Qing yet.
But Emperor Yan sensed she was hiding something. "Tell me the truth—did Sima Qing disrespect you?"
"How could he dare?" Jiu Yue forced a smile. "Really, Father, don’t worry. I suppose I’m just… not used to having a man in my bed yet."
Emperor Yan studied her skeptically.
"Then fill your palace with more men. You’ll adapt faster that way," he suggested.
Jiu Yue: "……"
She nearly dropped to her knees. "Father seems quite energetic. Perhaps you’d like to take over these memorials—"
Emperor Yan immediately stretched, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and strode toward the door.
"This emperor is exhausted and must rest now." He fixed her with a stern look. "And you will return to your palace and rest. That’s an imperial decree!"
Jiu Yue chuckled and shook her head, rising to follow him out.
Outside, the sky was overcast, and a biting wind howled. Jiu Yue stretched again—then spotted Lianqiao approaching with a food box.
"Your Highness!" Lianqiao hurried over, her smile fading when she saw Jiu Yue’s gaunt face. "Your Highness, how have you worked yourself to this state?"
The thought of herself growing plump in the Eastern Palace while her princess toiled day and night in the study nearly brought her to tears.
"Your Highness, when will you return? The royal consort personally prepared this meal for you. Qiu Dongfang, Mei Wuchang, and even the dog have tried it—it’s not poisoned." She gazed at Jiu Yue with concern.
Jiu Yue: "……"
Amused, Jiu Yue glanced at the gathering storm clouds and patted Lianqiao’s cheek. "Let’s go back. Now."
"Really?!" Lianqiao’s eyes lit up. "Wonderful! Your Highness can finally rest… Oh, and the royal consort has been waiting for you all this time!"
Jiu Yue paused, then scoffed. "I never asked him to wait."
"Of course not! He did it willingly…" Lianqiao leaned in conspiratorially. "Your Highness, without you, the Eastern Palace has practically turned into the Cold Palace."
"The royal consort is like a deranged concubine in exile—appearing out of nowhere, lurking in shadows. Even the dogs, Laba and Lingdang, don’t dare bark around him. Honestly, it’s a bit terrifying."
There was an unhinged, death-defying aura about him now. Lianqiao didn’t dare provoke him.
Jiu Yue: "…Surely it’s not that bad?"
"It is!" Lianqiao embellished further.
In her telling, Sima Qing had become a madman who sang and danced at midnight, brewing poisonous concoctions to force his subordinates to drink.
Jiu Yue pictured the scene—then shuddered.
…What a lovely image.
Eastern Palace.
Since Lianqiao’s departure, Mei Wuchang had been perched on the wall, keeping watch.
Qiu Dongfang watched as Sima Qing groomed Laba, feeling increasingly uneasy.
"Someone’s coming!" Mei Wuchang suddenly announced.
Sima Qing looked up, his eyes gleaming with anticipation… only to see an unfamiliar face appear at the gate.
"The Eastern Palace keeps a dog? How unexpected." Consort Ning smiled faintly. "The royal consort must have gone to great lengths to win Her Highness’s favor."
Sima Qing: "……"
Expressionless, he returned his attention to the dog.
Mei Wuchang and Qiu Dongfang remained on the roof.
All three acted as if they were blind.
Consort Ning’s smile stiffened as she was utterly ignored: "……"
