Jiu Yue returned to the small courtyard she had cleaned earlier that morning. The dew was heavy, leaving the stone table and chairs damp, so she leaped onto the roof beam and coiled there.
Hanging slightly upside down, she took in the sight of all the plants and flowers in the courtyard.
Quite a variety.
Her gaze settled on a cluster of tiny purple buds, and curiosity got the better of her. Just as she landed and was about to take a closer look, the door behind her suddenly opened.
Sima Qing’s voice came from inside, "Just one night, and you’ve already turned mute?"
Jiu Yue turned around and answered honestly, "I was worried I might wake you, Your Highness."
"Worried about waking me?" Sima Qing repeated, his tone unreadable, before letting out a light chuckle. "How considerate of you."
"Ah… no, I was afraid you’d punish me again for disturbing you," Jiu Yue admitted bluntly.
Sima Qing: "…"
Sima Qing: "Get in here already. Do I need to personally invite you?"
Jiu Yue faintly heard a cold snort.
Uncertain why he was so moody this early in the morning, she pursed her lips and hurried inside.
This was the first time Jiu Yue had entered Sima Qing’s room.
Admittedly, the onmyoji had taste. The room was modestly decorated, but every item clearly spoke of luxury. The incense burning in the brazier was unfamiliar, yet its fragrance was refreshing—Jiu Yue could practically feel her mind clearing.
No wonder Sima Qing woke up so early.
"Did you cause any trouble last night?" Sima Qing asked, seated in his wheelchair with his back to her.
Jiu Yue quickly recounted her cleaning duties from the night before.
After listening, Sima Qing: "…"
Unable to resist, he turned around, his expression shifting several times before settling into calm indifference. "So, last night, it was actually the imperial guards who cleaned for you?"
"That’s right, Your Highness!" Jiu Yue decided to flatter her boss. "Thanks to you making me bring that whip, I ran into that person as soon as I entered the palace. Hehe, you’re truly wise, Your Highness!"
Sima Qing: "…Oh, no, no. That was entirely your idea. It has nothing to do with me."
Jiu Yue waved her hand. "Come now, Your Highness, don’t be modest! If not for your guidance, I’d never have thought to grab someone to help!"
Sima Qing smiled faintly and pointed at the door. "Get out."
Jiu Yue: "?"
Confused but choosing to comply, she obediently rolled out, even considerately closing the door behind her.
Inside the room, Sima Qing took several deep breaths, trying to suppress—well, failing to suppress—the inexplicable fury rising in him. He even stood up from his wheelchair despite his leg injury.
Sima Qing simply couldn’t fathom what went through Jiu Yue’s head.
He had given her the whip to return it as an apology—not to threaten the imperial guards with it!
And yet, she fought them again and then forced them to clean up after her.
Even if she were pretending to be clueless, how could she take it this far? Did she even have a brain when she left the house???
Sima Qing closed his eyes, already imagining the emperor’s complicated gaze on him again.
After a long silence, he began to suspect:
Was this actually Prince Ping’s true motive in sending her here—to drive him to an early grave???
Sima Qing fell deep into thought.
—But then the door creaked open again.
Jiu Yue had returned.
Their eyes met abruptly. Sima Qing was puzzled, but Jiu Yue was utterly shocked.
"Your Highness! Y-you’re standing! This is a miracle!" she exclaimed dramatically.
Sima Qing: "…Would you like me to fetch you a megaphone?"
Jiu Yue immediately shut her mouth, though her eyes kept darting to his legs, her expression brimming with fascination.
Sima Qing’s gaze darkened further. He suddenly said, "About me being able to stand—"
Jiu Yue instantly caught on. "Don’t worry, Your Highness! My lips are sealed! Not a single word will leave this room!"
Sima Qing: "…"
He swallowed the question he had been about to ask and instead demanded flatly, "Was there something else?"
Jiu Yue grinned. "I brought you a little gift and forgot to give it to you earlier."
Under Sima Qing’s bewildered stare, she cheerfully placed the candied orange she had been carrying all night onto the table.
Finally delivered! Jiu Yue inwardly sighed in relief.
"Enjoy, Your Highness. I’ll take my leave now." She bolted out the door.
Left alone in the room, Sima Qing fell silent once more.
His eyes lingered on the oil-paper-wrapped candied orange, his expression shifting several times.
And she had the nerve to ask about his leg…
She, of all people, should know exactly why he was in that wheelchair.
Yet her reaction was baffling—she had acted so innocent, so curious, even promising to keep his secret.
Was she pretending not to know, or had she genuinely forgotten?
Absentmindedly, Sima Qing picked up the wooden stick. Unwrapping the oil paper revealed the candied orange inside.
The small golden fruit looked almost pretty when held up to the light.
The sugar coating had begun to melt, leaving sticky strands when the paper was peeled away. Sima Qing stared at those strands for a long time.
Given Sima Qing’s attitude, Jiu Yue concluded that she had passed her probation period.
Otherwise, he would’ve said "Get out of the manor" instead of just "Get out."
Having convinced herself, she spent the rest of the morning asking around the manor for directions to the dining hall.
And so… for the entire morning, the assassins lurking in the shadows—who had never once been detected—found themselves accosted by the same soul-searching question: "Had lunch yet? Where’d you eat?"
Assassins: "…"
Assassins: "???"
By the time Mo Jin and Fu Yu heard about this, Jiu Yue was already lounging on the rooftop, basking in the sun.
A shadow suddenly fell over her. Jiu Yue lazily cracked one eye open and, recognizing the reserved and polite colleague, offered a friendly smile. "Lovely weather today. Care to join me?"
Fu Yu studied her for a long moment before asking, "What were you doing with those assassins this morning?"
Jiu Yue replied, "Asking for directions."
Fu Yu stiffened, instantly wary. "Directions to where?" Was she trying to uncover some secret chamber?!
"The dining hall…" Jiu Yue sighed. "Didn’t realize the manor hired so many mutes. Guess it takes a disabled person to truly understand another, huh?"
A legless prince hiring mute assassins—made perfect sense!
Fu Yu: "…"
The word "disabled" rendered Fu Yu speechless.
This woman was truly shameless—not only had she been the one to stab the prince’s leg, but now she was going around slandering him as disabled!
Just as Fu Yu was about to defend the prince’s honor, Jiu Yue cut in again.
"Oh, right, right." She smacked her forehead, correcting herself. "Actually, the prince isn’t really disabled. I saw him standing today—not sure if it was his first time… Shh, don’t tell anyone. I promised to keep it a secret."
Fu Yu: "…"
A thought suddenly flashed through his mind. Fu Yu looked up in surprise and asked her, "Have you never seen the prince stand up before?"
