014

The Empress Dowager's gift was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, subtly changing Si Mianmian's situation in the harem. Even the provisions and supplies for Zhuixia Pavilion became much more timely and plentiful. Si Mianmian was happy to have some peace and quiet, spending her days either talking with Consort Wen or going to her small study to peruse the books sent by the Sixth Prince, Si Yujin. Her days were quite peaceful.

That afternoon, the spring sunshine was bright, and the crabapple blossoms in the Imperial Garden were in full bloom. Thinking about the recent unpredictable weather and Consort Wen's slight cough, Si Mianmian decided to pick some fresh crabapple blossoms to make candied fruit for her mother to soothe her throat. She deliberately chose a secluded path and took only Qiuhe with her.

Just as I rounded the artificial hill, I heard a familiar voice with a hint of lazy laughter coming from behind me.

"Oh, isn't this the Ninth Princess? What a coincidence."

Si Mianmian paused, then slowly turned around. Beneath the crabapple tree, Prince Rong Jingyu leaned against the trunk, arms crossed, watching her with a half-smile. He wore a sky-blue brocade robe, which accentuated his tall and imposing figure. His dark hair was tied back with a simple jade hairpin, a few stray strands falling across his forehead, adding a touch of untamed spirit. Sunlight filtered through the blossoms, casting dappled shadows on his handsome face, his peach-blossom eyes sparkling as if filled with tiny starlight.

"Mianmian greets Your Highness." Si Mianmian quickly lowered her eyelashes, gave a proper bow, and her voice remained soft and sweet.

Rong Jingyu walked slowly closer, stopping a step in front of her. His height gave him an invisible sense of pressure. He leaned down slightly, his gaze landing on her face without any attempt to look away, his tone undisguisedly teasing: "It's been a few days, and the Ninth Princess's complexion has improved considerably. It seems the Empress Dowager's gifts are quite nourishing."

These words, though seemingly out of concern, actually highlighted her recent success. A blush rose to Si Mianmian's face, as if she were embarrassed and flustered by the teasing, and she replied softly, "Thanks to Grandmother's good fortune, Mianmian was just lucky."

“A lucky break?” Rong Jingyu raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the small flower basket in her hand. “Princess, are you here to pick flowers again? Which noble person are you planning to present them to this time? The Empress Dowager? The Empress? Or… your brothers?” The probing meaning in his words was obvious, his eyes sharp, as if trying to see through her delicate appearance into her heart.

A slight alarm bell rang in Si Mianmian's heart, but her face remained blank and earnest. She gently lifted the small flower basket, which contained only a few scattered crabapple blossoms: "Your Highness is too kind. The crabapple blossoms are beautiful. Mianmian just wanted to pick some to take back and make into candied fruit for my mother to soothe her throat. My mother has been coughing a bit lately. Although the loquat syrup from the Imperial Hospital is good, it's not as mild as this fresh honey." Her tone was sincere, filled with concern for her mother, leaving no room for criticism.

Rong Jingyu stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly chuckled, "The Ninth Princess is truly commendable for her filial piety. Consort Wen is fortunate to have such a daughter." He then changed the subject, his tone becoming somewhat enigmatic, "However, with such a clever mind and thoughtful approach, doesn't the Princess find it tiring?"

Survival Handbook Rule Fourteen: When faced with probing that strikes at the core, the best defense is not denial, but rather using a purer form of "truth" to defuse the situation. The most skillful disguise is a genuine outpouring of emotion that even you almost believe to yourself.

Si Mianmian raised her eyes, and a thin layer of mist quickly welled up in her clear almond-shaped eyes. She bit her lower lip slightly, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible grievance and stubbornness: "Your Highness... Mianmian doesn't understand what you mean. Mianmian just... just wants to live peacefully in this palace with my mother. If thinking things through and weighing the pros and cons all the time is tiring, then Mianmian... might already be exhausted." As she spoke, she turned her head slightly, as if trying to hold back tears. The sunlight shone on her slender and fragile neck, making it appear incredibly delicate.

Rong Jingyu's eyes darkened, and he didn't immediately reply. He had seen her quick wit defuse the Seventh Princess's difficult questions, and he had seen her "innocent" and charming demeanor before the Empress Dowager. He had also seen her seemingly weak but actually clear eyes during her illness. How much of her current appearance of extreme grievance, as if hurt by his words, was genuine and how much was feigned?

He stopped dwelling on the topic and instead said in a more languid, even slightly roguish tone, "Since we've met, it must be fate. How about I help the princess pick some flowers? Those few blossoms on the highest branches over there, having received plenty of sunshine, must be even sweeter." He was referring to a crabapple tree not far away that was in full bloom. The highest branch was indeed covered in blossoms, but it was definitely beyond Si Mianmian's height to reach.

Before Si Mianmian could answer, Rong Jingyu had already lightly touched the ground with his toes, gracefully leaping up and easily plucking the most beautiful flower branch. Holding the flower, he didn't hand it directly to Si Mianmian, but instead toyed with it between his fingers, looking down at her with a seductive yet dangerous smile playing on his lips:

"Flowers, I can give them to you. But..." He drawled, a mischievous glint in his peach blossom eyes, "Shouldn't the princess show some appreciation? Like... a sweet cry?"

Si Mianmian's heart skipped a beat; her premonition had come true. A blush rose to her face, this time not entirely feigned, but carrying a hint of genuine embarrassment and annoyance. Her voice was barely audible: "Your Highness... please don't tease Mianmian."

"Teasing?" Rong Jingyu leaned closer, almost able to smell the crisp pine needle scent emanating from him. He lowered his voice, his magnetic tone carrying a seductive quality, "I'm serious. Always calling him 'Your Highness' sounds too formal. Look, the Sixth Prince is your elder brother, and you even address the hostage Xuan Jing as 'Your Highness.' But when it comes to me, am I not even allowed a special title?"

His words seemed like a joke, but in reality, he was pressing her step by step, determined to differentiate between close and distant relationships in their address, forcing her to express her opinion.

Si Mianmian's hands, which were hanging in her sleeves, tightened slightly. If she called out, it would be an invisible step closer to him, an admission of some special connection, and also confirm the suspicion that she was "intentionally trying to curry favor" with him; if she didn't call out, it would be an immediate rejection of the face of this capricious prince, and the "harmony" she had worked so hard to maintain might be destroyed in an instant.

In a flash, Si Mianmian made her decision. She raised her flushed face, her eyes filled with girlish shyness and a hint of forced panic, glanced quickly at Rong Jingyu, then swiftly lowered her head, calling out in a barely audible, trembling voice:

“…Your Highness…Your Highness.”

These four words, light and soft, carrying a hint of reluctant grievance, brushed against my heart like a feather.

Rong Jingyu was visibly taken aback. He hadn't expected her to actually scream, especially not in such a... devastating way. The playfulness in his eyes was instantly replaced by a deeper emotion, but that emotion vanished too quickly, too fast to be grasped.

"Hmm?" He deliberately dragged out the last syllable, as if he hadn't heard clearly. "What did the princess just call me? I'm hard of hearing, I didn't hear you."

Si Mianmian blushed so much that her ears turned red. She suddenly raised her head, her eyes also reddening, as if she had been bullied badly. She said in a tearful voice, "Young Master! Are you... are you satisfied now?" After saying that, she seemed to be unable to stay any longer, and forgot about the money. She turned around and ran away.

"Hey, don't rush." ​​Rong Jingyu stretched out his long arm and easily blocked her way, handing her the crabapple blossom in full bloom. His tone was full of undisguised laughter. "You haven't taken the flower yet, little darling."

This "Little Darling" sounded incredibly natural, even more intimate than her earlier "Young Master Brother."

Si Mianmian stopped, her back to him, her shoulders heaving slightly, as if trying to calm herself. After a few seconds, she slowly turned around, her face still flushed, tears welling in her eyes. She looked at the flower, then at Rong Jingyu, and in a fit of pique, snatched it away, clutching it tightly in her hand, muttering under her breath, "Bad guy..."

This series of reactions perfectly portrays the shy, aggrieved, and slightly coquettish emotions of a girl who has been teased.

Seeing her like this, Rong Jingyu finally couldn't help but burst into laughter, startling a few birds on the branches. He seemed to be in a very good mood and stopped teasing her, saying only, "Alright, I won't tease you anymore. Go back now, be careful not to get sunburned."

Si Mianmian curtsied and said softly, "Mianmian takes her leave," then grabbed Qiuhe, who was already stunned, and practically fled.

Rong Jingyu only stopped laughing when the figures of the master and servant disappeared at the end of the road. He raised his hand, his fingertips still seeming to retain the touch of the flower branch from before, and... the echo of that soft, trembling "Young Master Brother" in his ear.

A playful smile curved his lips, but his eyes remained clear and lucid.

"Si Mianmian..." he murmured to himself, "How much of that 'brother' you called me was genuine, and how much was fake?"

However, whether it's true or not, this game is getting more and more interesting. He wants to see how many more "surprises" this max-level innocent girl can bring him.

Meanwhile, Si Mianmian walked briskly until she felt the piercing gaze disappear, then she slowed down. The blush and embarrassment on her face quickly faded, replaced by a calm expression. She looked down at the delicate begonia in her hand, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

Survival Handbook Postscript: Sometimes, fulfilling seemingly unreasonable demands is not submission, but a strategic retreat. A simple greeting can bring temporary peace and might even lead to unexpected concessions. The key lies in whether the price paid is within a controllable range and how to guide the conversation afterward.

Rong Jingyu is indeed a difficult character to deal with. But today's "brother" might temporarily appease him and buy her more time to observe and plan.

This path through the deep palace is fraught with peril, yet she must continue on it.