"Steward Yan, where are you taking Amei?" Jiang Tu and Lian Xiu were waiting outside. When they saw Mei Lin with her bundle, they couldn’t help but ask.
Qing Yan raised his chin high, not even glancing at the two women as he replied coldly, "Weren’t you taught when you entered the residence that it’s best not to ask questions you shouldn’t?" With that, he walked towards the courtyard gate.
The two women were left speechless, only able to look at Mei Lin with concern. Mei Lin shook her head slightly, indicating that she didn’t know either. Seeing that Qing Yan was urging her to hurry, she quickly picked up her pace to follow.
The journey was silent. As they neared their destination, Qing Yan finally spoke.
"Whatever happens, don’t forget your duty as a servant."
The duty of a servant...
Mei Lin was momentarily stunned but quickly realized that he was offering her advice. She respectfully responded with an acknowledgment, feeling even more grateful towards him.
Despite his sharp tongue and haughty demeanor, Qing Yan had become one of Murong Jing He’s closest attendants, not because he was inherently kind, but because he was perceptive and sensitive due to the deep-seated insecurity that came from his physical condition. It was a rare gesture for him to offer advice to someone of Mei Lin’s low status, and it was only because he hadn’t detected the usual disdain hidden beneath others' respect. If it had been someone else, he likely wouldn’t have bothered speaking at all.
* * *
Qing Yan led Mei Lin to the northern third floor of Danyue Pavilion and left to attend to other matters after reporting her arrival. Mei Lin was left to enter on her own.
From the outside, Danyue Pavilion appeared to be a single, solid three-story wooden building. But once inside, she discovered it was actually four interconnected buildings, forming a courtyard in the center. The northern building was three stories tall, while the eastern, southern, and western sides were two stories each. The entire second floor of the southern building was a stage, with a red carpet covering the floor and golden tassels hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to guess the purpose of the other three sides.
At that moment, a play was being performed in the southern building, though Mei Lin couldn’t tell what it was. A performer in a green robe waved long sleeves and sang in a high-pitched voice, the sounds blending with the afternoon sun, making one feel drowsy.
The third floor of the northern building was a large, open space, covered in luxurious, thick carpets. There was no furniture, just layers of light green silk hanging from the ceiling, creating a hazy atmosphere. Soft cushions were scattered around, and autumn chrysanthemums peeked out from behind the silk, their fragrance mingling with the incense that filled the room, chasing away the autumn chill.
Murong Jing He was reclining against some cushions, one hand resting on a carved wooden railing, the other holding a cup of wine. His gaze was fixed beyond the rooftop of the southern building, on the shimmering green lake in the distance. The gentle waves, the verdant mountains, and the wide blue sky made him close his eyes in contentment. The warm sunlight softened his features, making him look slightly healthier. Beside him, Adai sat with her legs folded, cradling a small, fiery red marten in her arms. A short distance away, Luo Mei stood leaning against the railing, dressed in a scholar’s robe with a blue headscarf, her posture exuding an air of nonchalance.
Mei Lin hesitated for a moment before removing her shoes and stepping onto the carpet, her skirt brushing the floor and concealing her plain socks.
"Your servant greets the Prince," she said, bowing from a distance without moving closer.
Her voice immediately drew the attention of all three. Luo Mei lightly tapped the folded fan in her hand against the railing, a spark of interest flickering in her eyes. Although the gesture was subtle, Murong Jing He noticed it. A faint, unreadable smile curled his lips as he turned his gaze to Mei Lin.
"Come over here," he commanded.
Mei Lin felt a wave of reluctance. Adai might not pose a threat, but the other two were enough to make her feel uneasy. She hadn’t forgotten what happened last time. If it had been anyone else, she might not have been so lucky. However, this understanding didn’t give her the option to refuse the Prince’s order.
Suppressing her frustration, Mei Lin lowered her head and slowly approached. When she raised her face again, it was adorned with a gentle smile.
Murong Jing He studied her for a moment, finding her somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. He turned to Luo Mei and said, "She’s here. Whatever you want her to do, just give the order."
Mei Lin was taken aback and looked at Luo Mei, who was dressed in men’s clothing yet appeared even more delicate. She couldn’t understand why Luo Mei would seek her out. Even if there was some jealousy, it shouldn’t be directed at her.
Luo Mei’s lips curled slightly, and without warning, she swung her fan at Mei Lin’s neck as if it were a sword. She moved so quickly that Mei Lin had no time to react. In her past life, Mei Lin’s instincts as a martial artist would have made her dodge or counterattack, but now, she remained dazed, unaware that she had just narrowly escaped death.
In truth, Mei Lin knew what had happened. Though her martial skills were gone, her reflexes remained, but she was too slow to respond before Luo Mei withdrew her fan. So, she decided to feign ignorance. However, inside, she grew increasingly uneasy, worrying that her true identity might have been discovered.
As she stood there in anxiety, Luo Mei snapped her fan open and, fanning herself, began walking out of the room.
"I’m taking her with me," she said to Murong Jing He, though she didn’t even glance his way.
Mei Lin hesitated, unsure whether she should follow or stay. She still didn’t understand what was happening.
"What are you waiting for? Follow me!" Luo Mei snapped, noticing that Mei Lin wasn’t moving.
Feeling cold sweat trickle down her back, Mei Lin instinctively looked at Murong Jing He, hoping for some clear instruction.
Fortunately, this time Murong Jing He didn’t take long to respond. Catching Mei Lin’s questioning gaze, he smiled faintly and suddenly reached out to grab her ankle, hidden beneath her skirt, pulling her into his arms. Mei Lin lost her balance, stumbling into him, but he caught her.
"I can’t let you take her," he finally said, wrapping the arm holding the wine cup around her neck and pouring the remaining half-cup of wine into her mouth.
When he looked up, he met Luo Mei’s furious, burning gaze.
"You’d better have a good explanation!" she demanded, clearly feeling mocked.
Murong Jing He, knowing her well, wasn’t intimidated by her anger. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed the corner of Mei Lin’s brow, only to notice a small, red mole there, revealed by her hair slipping down as she leaned against him. The tiny mark, catching the sunlight, seemed particularly endearing. This unexpected discovery momentarily distracted him, and he couldn’t resist affectionately licking it with his tongue.
"Murong Jing He!" Luo Mei’s voice echoed through the empty third floor, sharp and angry, contrasting with the soft, graceful singing coming from the performance below.
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