"Done, done." Mei Wuchang spoke rapidly.
He had always regarded Jiu Yue as his benchmark and was well aware of her formidable strength. Had he not been uncertain about her memory loss earlier, Mei Wuchang would never have dared to provoke her.
Jiu Yue raised an eyebrow, casually leaning against the window as she sat down. With a playful grin, she reached out her hand. "You—"
Mei Wuchang instinctively dodged.
Only to be caught by Jiu Yue’s other hand.
"This part isn’t straightened out yet." Jiu Yue kindly adjusted the hem of his robe, then tilted her head and smirked. "What’s with the dodging? Afraid I’ll hit you?"
Mei Wuchang forced a smile. "No, you’ve misunderstood."
"Good then." Jiu Yue patted his shoulder amiably. "We’re all on the same side—relax a little!"
Mei Wuchang: "..."
He couldn’t shake the creeping unease in his chest.
Jiu Yue seemed even more terrifying than before.
Prince Ping had gone to Qingnan to manage flood control. Upon returning to the capital, he was required to report to the emperor, while the rest of his entourage returned to Prince Ping's Mansion.
After meeting the emperor, Prince Ping knelt and pleaded for punishment. "I apologize for my disheveled appearance before Your Majesty. Please reprimand me as you see fit."
The emperor: "..."
The emperor was indeed stunned by Prince Ping’s current state and couldn’t resist pulling Sima Qing over to take a look.
Prince Ping paused, then bowed again. "Imperial Uncle is here as well. Greetings, Imperial Uncle."
Sima Qing offered a perfunctory smile, his gaze sweeping over Prince Ping.
His face was bruised, his neck bore traces of blood, and there was a noticeable stiffness in his movements—likely due to hidden injuries beneath his robes.
"Were you ambushed?" the emperor couldn’t help but ask.
"...No." Prince Ping smiled faintly. "I merely took a fall."
Sima Qing studied him with amusement. "You can still smile after a fall like that?"
Prince Ping: "..."
He schooled his expression back to neutrality.
The emperor played mediator. "Xiuyuan has only just returned, Imperial Uncle. Must you be so harsh?"
The "harsh" Imperial Uncle personally helped Prince Ping up and encouraged him, "Then you should smile more—who knows when you might lose the chance?"
Prince Ping remained unfazed. "Imperial Uncle has grown ever more humorous."
The emperor’s lips twitched, and he quickly separated the two. "Xiuyuan, don’t take it to heart. You know how Imperial Uncle is—sharp-tongued with age, but he cares for you deeply."
Cared for him?
More like cared about when he’d die.
Prince Ping scoffed inwardly but maintained a grateful expression. "This younger brother understands."
The emperor changed the subject. "Let’s discuss Qingnan."
Prince Ping lowered his head. "As you command."
...
They had entered the capital at dusk, and by the time Prince Ping finished his report, it was already late into the night.
"You’ve worked hard, Xiuyuan." The emperor patted his shoulder and personally escorted him to the door of the study. "You’ve lost weight. There’s no need to attend court these next few days—rest well."
"Your Majesty’s kindness moves me." Prince Ping bowed, then glanced at Sima Qing, who remained seated inside. "I heard Imperial Uncle was injured. I’ve been concerned. Since it’s late, would Imperial Uncle care to leave the palace with me?"
Sima Qing chuckled lightly. "How thoughtful. But this game of mine isn’t finished yet—you may go ahead."
The emperor said nothing.
Prince Ping withdrew his gaze. "Then I shall take my leave. I’ll visit Imperial Uncle another day."
Only after Prince Ping departed did Sima Qing slowly walk to the window.
"Imperial Uncle," the emperor sighed beside him. "Next time, try to act a little more cordial."
"This prince hasn’t stabbed him yet—isn’t that cordial enough?" Sima Qing’s eyes gleamed darkly.
The emperor: "..."
"Never mind." The emperor resigned himself to his filial virtues and dropped the matter. "Now that he’s back, the net should move."
Sima Qing absently rubbed his fingertips, then tilted his head. "Your Majesty’s side—no issues?"
"None whatsoever." The emperor paused, then countered, "And Imperial Uncle’s side? No last-minute betrayals?"
"Prince Ping has returned. If Imperial Uncle delays any longer, it may be too late."
Sima Qing smiled faintly. "Does Your Majesty truly believe Prince Ping’s injuries came from a fall?"
The emperor studied him for a long moment before breaking into a knowing smile.
"Imperial Uncle works fast. This emperor thought..." He clapped Sima Qing’s shoulder. "Imperial Uncle might be reluctant to let go."
Sima Qing: "..."
Sima Qing rose calmly. "This subject will return another day to finish the game. It’s late—I shall take my leave."
The emperor watched him go, then murmured after a long silence, "It’s been too long since this emperor last saw Consort Xue."
The eunuch at his side immediately understood. "To Yuxi Palace—"
Sima Qing returned to his mansion under the moonlit sky, where Mo Jin promptly greeted him.
"What is it?" He frowned slightly, his mood clearly less than pleasant.
Mo Jin handed him a note without explanation.
Sima Qing halted mid-step. As he took the note, realization struck—he knew exactly who had sent it.
Now in no hurry to enter, he sat on a nearby stone bench and unfolded the message. The words were concise:
[I have returned to the capital with Prince Ping. Note: He remains suspicious. Avoid correspondence for now. If urgent, find another way to contact me.]
Quite the professional spy.
After letting Mo Jin and the others read it, Sima Qing destroyed the note.
The moon shone brightly, and a cool breeze carried a faint floral scent. His mood inexplicably lifted, and he noticed several unfamiliar clusters of flowers in the garden—utterly out of place.
Fu Yu volunteered an explanation. "Your Highness, when restoring the garden as you ordered, I threw in that bag of soil from your room."
Sima Qing propped his chin on his hand, staring at the flowers.
"Then tend to them carefully," he said, conflicted.
At least they hadn’t been a waste of money.
Once Jiu Yue entered the mansion, Mei Wuchang found himself in a dilemma.
In the past, Jiu Yue had always stayed by the prince’s side before being sent to monitor that person. The mansion had no prepared quarters for her... Mei Wuchang hesitated.
But Jiu Yue was eager to meet the Mute Girl. After waiting impatiently for Mei Wuchang to speak, she finally snapped.
"Where am I staying?" she demanded.
Mei Wuchang paused, studying her before tentatively asking, "Do you remember? You used to stay in that rundown courtyard in the southwest corner..."
The very place where the Mute Girl now resided.
"Southwest corner..." Jiu Yue feigned confusion, then nodded. "Fine, I’ll head there myself."
Mei Wuchang stared in astonishment as she walked away—he’d expected her to demand better accommodations given her current temperament!
He couldn’t help but marvel.
See? Even with amnesia, those old feelings must still linger!
So what if she punched the prince and kicked him? At least she hadn’t killed them! She must have returned for the prince’s sake.
But remembering Prince Ping’s orders, Mei Wuchang quickly hurried after her.
Jiu Yue turned back in confusion, only to see Mei Wuchang flash a considerate smile. "Prince Ping's Mansion is quite large, and since you don’t remember your past right now, I’d better take you there myself."
Jiu Yue: "..."
Jiu Yue: "Thanks a lot."
Damn this do-gooder.
