Jiu Yue was feeling conflicted.
Of course, if she carried out the mission—being an undercover agent—she could go easy on it.
But given her skills, wouldn’t slacking off be too unprofessional? That would be ruining her own reputation!
She was clearly incredibly capable.
Still… the original host’s previous assassination attempt on Sima Qing had failed, managing only to wound his leg.
With that precedent, holding back a little shouldn’t be too bad, right?
Jiu Yue stroked her chin, unable to shake the question of why Sima Qing would plan things this way.
Surely he hadn’t gotten addicted to sitting in a wheelchair?
She rolled her eyes at her own ridiculous thought, her lips twitching as she smacked her forehead.
Whatever!
He must have his reasons for doing this!
A mere assassination? She’d make sure he was satisfied!
With Mei Wuchang away, Prince Ping’s outings grew shorter.
Before, he’d leave early and return late, but now he usually went out in the afternoon and came back before dinner. Every time he returned to the estate, he’d visit Jiu Yue first, sometimes even bringing her little trinkets.
Today was no different.
As soon as Prince Ping returned, he spotted Jiu Yue lying on the roof, eyes closed in a peaceful nap, her face serene.
“A-Yue, here’s the mandarin duck pastry you used to love. Come try it,” Prince Ping called to her gently.
Jiu Yue glanced at him as he unwrapped the oil paper, and an idea struck her. She leaped down from the roof and naturally took the package from his hands.
“Let me do it,” she said with a smile, deliberately brushing her arm past him several times.
Prince Ping immediately noticed. “A-Yue, your injury… has it healed?”
Jiu Yue grinned, offering flattery. “The medicine Your Highness provided truly works wonders.”
“Good to hear.” He studied her for a moment longer before looking away.
Jiu Yue sat across from him and took a bite of the pastry—only to immediately gag and spit it out.
Prince Ping startled, frowning as he poured her tea. “What’s wrong?”
Jiu Yue stared at the pastry in horror, then at Prince Ping in disbelief.
How dare he try to poison her! This tasted like straight-up mud!
But then her eyes landed on the half-eaten pastry in front of Prince Ping. Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t help asking, “Does… does this taste good to you?”
Prince Ping blinked. “Of course. I had them make it fresh. What’s wrong, A-Yue?”
Jiu Yue set hers down with a strange expression, forcing an awkward laugh. “Nothing. Maybe I’ve just gone too long without eating it, so it tastes odd now.”
Prince Ping seemed moved by her words. He also put down his pastry and took her hand.
“A-Yue, from now on, I’ll buy you mandarin duck pastries every day.”
Jiu Yue: “…Thank you, Your Highness, but that won’t be necessary.”
She pulled her hand back with a stiff smile, silently vowing to demand compensation from Sima Qing for workplace hazards the next time she saw him.
Prince Ping didn’t take offense. He calmly withdrew his hand and sighed heavily.
Jiu Yue was just thinking of how to provoke Prince Ping’s anger toward Sima Qing so he’d send her to eliminate him—when the prince suddenly adopted a troubled expression.
Clearly putting on a show for her.
Suppressing a laugh, Jiu Yue played along.
“Your Highness, what’s troubling you?” she asked, her voice laced with concern, her brows faintly furrowed.
“A-Yue…” Prince Ping met her eyes and asked abruptly, “Would you return to my fief with me and spend the rest of our lives as a carefree, happy couple?”
Jiu Yue: “…”
Internally, she scoffed. Sure, they could be adversaries—but a couple? Might as well wish for the moon.
Yet the next second, an echo of the same words rang in her ears—
“Xiuyuan, let’s be husband and wife, shall we? Return to your fief, far from the chaos of the capital. Wouldn’t that be wonderful…”
Fragments of memories long buried resurfaced, vivid and sharp.
So sharp that Jiu Yue could see the hope in the original host’s eyes—and the mockery in Prince Ping’s.
“A-Yue?” Prince Ping noticed her dazed expression, the unconscious curl of her lips. He quickly smoothed his own smile back into the guise of a repentant lover.
But Jiu Yue hadn’t missed his fleeting expression.
The Prince Ping from her memories overlapped with the man before her. Her heart lurched as if struck, a wave of nausea rising.
Before Prince Ping could speak again, Jiu Yue suddenly stood and rushed to the side, doubling over as she dry-heaved.
“What’s happening?” Prince Ping’s face stiffened. He turned and shouted toward the shadows, “Summon the physician! Now!”
“No need, Your Highness…” Jiu Yue grabbed his sleeve, panting as she steadied herself. She managed a weak smile. “It must’ve been the pastry earlier. Please don’t worry.”
She returned to the table and sat down, gulping tea to suppress the lingering disgust—all while keeping up her act.
“Why bring this up so suddenly, Your Highness?” Jiu Yue feigned confusion, though her eyes sparkled with feigned delight.
Prince Ping gazed at her tenderly. “Because I don’t want to lose you again.”
Jiu Yue pretended to hesitate. “But the capital…”
He cut her off. “Nothing matters more than you.”
“…” She nearly choked on her tea. Under his expectant stare, Jiu Yue finally smiled. “Alright! When do we leave?”
Prince Ping exhaled in relief, pulling her into a tight embrace.
Jiu Yue clenched her fists, expression blank.
Just a little longer. Let’s see what nonsense he spews next.
She shut her eyes, enduring it, as Prince Ping began spinning dreams above her head.
With every word he spoke, the original host’s voice echoed in her mind—phrases she’d once said to him.
After an eternity of silence, Prince Ping finally got to the point.
“…Right now, the regent has leverage over me. Unless we deal with him, even if we return to the fief, we…”
Jiu Yue’s eyes snapped open. She jerked back to stare at him. “You want to move against the regent?”
It had been a long time since Prince Ping had seen such a look in her eyes.
A killing intent so sharp it felt like a beast lurking in the shadows, ready to strike.
He was reassured—this fury had to be directed at the regent!
Only after speaking did Jiu Yue realize her tone had slipped.
Damn it. The original host’s voice had been ringing in her ears, each word fueling her urge to slice Prince Ping into pieces. She hadn’t controlled her expression when she opened her eyes—had he noticed she was breaking character?
Blinking rapidly, she scrambled to recover—only to find Prince Ping looking… pleased?
Jiu Yue: “?”
Prince Ping confirmed it: “Exactly, A-Yue. Once he’s gone, nothing will stand in our way.”
Jiu Yue: “…”
Huh.
Maybe Sima Qing really was a genius?
