Jiu Yue paused for a moment but eventually picked up her chopsticks.
Sima Qing had been watching her closely, ready to intercept any attempt she might make to escape...
Yet all she did was obediently pick up a bite of food—only to unexpectedly pop it into her own mouth.
Sima Qing froze.
Jiu Yue narrowed her eyes and chuckled. "Trying to trick me? Save your energy."
Sima Qing: "..."
The System: "..."
The System grumbled and exited the channel, unwilling to watch any longer.
Sima Qing’s gaze darkened slightly as his eyes swept over her sly expression. He remained silent, merely placing one hand on the back of her chair while picking up his chopsticks again with the other, leisurely serving her a piece of meat.
"Your Highness could have just asked if you wanted me to serve you," Sima Qing said with a faint smile. "Such subtle hints might be lost on most people."
Jiu Yue: "..."
After swallowing the bite, Jiu Yue forced an awkward laugh. "Misunderstanding. I’ll handle it myself."
She tried to push his hand away.
But instead, he brought the food to her lips.
"Your Highness," his voice softened, carrying an unspoken plea. "Open your mouth."
Jiu Yue stared at him for a long moment before sighing deeply. "Fine. I’ll trust you this once."
Sima Qing: "...Then eat already."
Summoning her courage, Jiu Yue opened her mouth.
To her surprise, the food tasted perfectly fine—even delicious.
She blinked at him in confusion, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "If you can cook, why were you grinning like a poison-peddling witch earlier? Made me think you’d drugged it."
Sima Qing: "..."
He set down his chopsticks and stood. "Enjoy your meal, Your Highness."
"Ah—you’re not eating anymore?" Jiu Yue glanced at him timidly.
Sima Qing shot her a cold look. "No. Wouldn’t want the poison to kick in and kill me."
Jiu Yue: "..."
It was a metaphor! Just a metaphor!
Because of the dinner incident, Jiu Yue was treated to a rare display of Sima Qing’s passive-aggressive side.
He refused to look at her directly, only sparing her disdainful sidelong glances.
Jiu Yue: "..."
Rubbing her face, Jiu Yue watched as Sima Qing haughtily washed dishes in the distance, falling into silence.
Qiu Dongfang had left after dinner, leaving only Jiu Yue and Sima Qing in the villa.
At the moment, Sima Qing was in the kitchen, staring blankly at the flames.
Sparks crackled and popped as Jiu Yue eagerly pulled him aside, enthusiastically adding firewood.
"You’re frail. Let me handle the hard labor," she said with a friendly smile.
Sima Qing glanced at her sidelong, folding his arms as he stepped back, his smile icy.
"So in Your Highness’s eyes, I’m so useless I can’t even tend a fire."
Jiu Yue quickly added, "No, I’m just concerned about you."
"Ah, concern. How touching. For a moment, I thought you were worried I’d slipped something into the hot water." He didn’t even look at her now.
Jiu Yue: "..."
She took a deep breath.
"Haha, of course not," she forced a smile, speaking calmly. "Just a joke... I’ll help you carry the hot water later!"
Sima Qing arched a brow, suddenly recalling a certain memory.
"Jiu Yue," he called abruptly.
"Huh?" she responded, confused.
He said flatly, "Your forced smiles are painfully stiff."
Jiu Yue: "..."
The past came rushing back. She stopped smiling.
"Carry it yourself," she said flatly before walking away.
Sima Qing, who’d been shoved into the wall: "..."
He stopped smiling too.
Now deep in thought—why had she gotten angry so suddenly?
...
Half an hour later.
Jiu Yue luxuriated in her bath.
Ah.
Bliss.
This was hot water personally boiled by Sima Qing (poison-free edition)!
The System silently observed the love meter struggling to reach 3%, reasonably suspecting its host wasn’t interested in a tragic romance—she wanted domination.
The kind where she rode roughshod over her partner.
If not for Sima Qing’s cooperation, the System couldn’t imagine how impossible this mission would be!
By the time it returned to headquarters, the main System might even have grandchildren...
A sudden wave of camaraderie with Sima Qing washed over the System.
The spring chill lingered, so Jiu Yue didn’t linger in the bath. As she finished washing, she kept an ear out for movement outside—just as footsteps approached.
Probably Qiu Dongfang returning.
Nearly two months had passed since they’d used their injuries as an excuse to stay in Jin Yu Ridge. News from the capital arrived frequently.
After the Qingming Festival, envoys from neighboring nations would visit Great Yan for diplomatic exchanges. Following tradition, the imperial hunting grounds would open during this period to host foreign dignitaries—a display of power and alliance.
Now, Qiu Dongfang had likely returned after exchanging intelligence with Wu Liang to deliver updates.
It was almost time to return to the palace.
With this in mind, Jiu Yue quickened her movements.
...
Qiu Dongfang had indeed returned with news from the capital.
But spotting Sima Qing standing at the villa’s entrance, he didn’t dare barge in.
"Your Highness’s Consort, a message from the palace," he said, handing over the letter.
It was Emperor Yan’s personal correspondence, delivered covertly by Wu Liang.
Sima Qing didn’t open it immediately. After waiting a moment, he finally turned to enter.
The trap around the Luosha Gang was nearly set. He was contemplating how to lure Consort Ning into a pit of her own making when the sound of a door opening interrupted his thoughts.
A graceful figure emerged from the steamy room.
Jiu Yue casually tied her robe as she spotted the letter in his hand. She strode over and snatched it.
"This must be Father’s letter, asking when we’ll return..." she muttered while unfolding it.
The contents were brief—most of it inquired after her recovery.
Since the Wuying Sect affair involved the martial world, which operated separately from the court, Jiu Yue had instructed Wu Liang to keep details from Emperor Yan for now. She’d explain everything upon her return.
Thus, Emperor Yan remained unaware that his supposedly frail daughter had been ruling Jin Yu Ridge like a tyrant.
The latter half of the letter mentioned the hunting event.
In past years, with Great Yan’s only prince, Yan Zhouheng, still young and the other princesses lacking skill in archery, the honor of hosting fell to young generals and promising sons of officials.
But this year, Great Yan had its Crown Princess.
Many envoys would come specifically to meet this mysterious heir.
Jiu Yue would need to represent Great Yan as host.
Lost in thoughts of the hunting event, she didn’t notice Sima Qing’s prolonged silence.
Her skin still glistened with moisture, damp strands clinging to her temples as droplets trailed down...
He belatedly averted his gaze, firmly fixing his eyes on the sky.
Yet the air around him had somehow become infused with a faint, intoxicating fragrance, drawing him in without notice...
It was identical to the scent that clung to her.
For a fleeting moment, he felt as though he had been transported back to that afternoon, wrapped in her heavy cloak.
Jiu Yue had just settled on a few possible dates for their return journey and was about to discuss them with him when she looked up and saw Sima Qing gazing at the moon, lost in thought.
Jiu Yue: "..."
She blinked, then reached out to nudge him. "Are you alright?"
Sima Qing snapped out of his daze, feigning composure as he took a step back. Just as he was about to shake his head, Jiu Yue’s eyes widened slightly, and she closed the distance between them with a long stride.
"Sima Qing..." she called softly, gripping his shoulders as her fingers lifted in disbelief.
The space between them had grown unnervingly close.
Sima Qing’s throat moved as he swallowed, making no effort to resist—if anything, he seemed to lean imperceptibly into her touch.
But then Jiu Yue’s expression shifted to horror. "You’re bleeding. From your nose."
Sima Qing: "..."
