Chapter 39

Li Yin held the white ivory chopsticks with his fingertips, casually drew half a circle around the edge of the plate, and then lazily picked up a piece of shepherd's purse with his chopsticks.

As soon as the leaf touched his lips, he frowned, curled his lips, and said in a voice full of undisguised disgust: "It's too salty."

Then he wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief and picked up the three dishes from the plate.

After chewing the lotus root slices twice, he said "Tsk!" and said, "Too sweet!" The impatience in his tone was even stronger than before, as if the whole table full of delicacies was nothing but inedible dregs in his eyes.

Luo Sanrong sat opposite, and his hand holding the chopsticks tightened slightly.

The shepherd's purse he had just tasted was refreshing, and the fermented rice was mellow, clearly the perfect taste, but he criticized it completely.

Seeing Li Yin's eyes fall on the braised spare ribs, she couldn't help but hold her breath.

The ribs were stewed until they were tender and boneless, and the sauce was thick. There was really nothing wrong with it.

But Li Yin used the tip of his chopsticks to pick up a small piece of pork ribs in a very perfunctory manner. As soon as the meat entered his mouth, he slammed the ivory chopsticks on the table!

With a crisp "pa" sound, the ivory chopsticks bounced on the smooth dining table and rolled to the ground.

“It’s so fishy!”

"How dare you serve something like this? It's simply an eyesore to me!"

Luo Sanrong looked at Li Yin's disgusted expression and said with dissatisfaction, "You're still so picky!"

Li Yin glanced at the almost untouched dishes on the table, frowning even more. He said to Luo Sanrong, "I can't eat it. You eat it!"

Luo Sanrong tried to persuade Li Yin: "No, even if you see the sincerity of the person who cooked it, you should still eat some!"

Li Yin withdrew his hand, tucked it into his wide sleeve, and leaned back lazily. "I have no choice but to let them take it away! Someone, come!"

Looking at the table full of dishes, Luo Sanrong couldn't resist the temptation of delicious food and compromised and said, "I'll eat it."

Li Yin showed a triumphant smile where Luo Sanrong couldn't see.

Luo Sanrong picked up the ivory chopsticks and picked up all the dishes one by one, and soon the table was "cleared".

Even Li Yin couldn't help but say: "With such a small body like yours, where did all the food go?"

Luo Sanrong smiled awkwardly.

Most of the dishes on the table had been eaten. When Luo Sanrong put down his ivory chopsticks, his fingertips were still stained with the sauce of the braised pork ribs.

She picked up the tea beside her and rinsed her mouth. The arc rolling in her throat was somewhat satisfied. As soon as she put down the teacup, she couldn't help but burp.

The sound was particularly clear in the silent hall. Luo Sanrong's ears turned red first. She subconsciously raised her eyes to look across, but met Li Yin's smiling gaze.

Li Yin propped up his chin, his fingertips gently stroking his smooth jawline, a hint of mischief in his eyes. Seeing Luo Sanrong looking over, he slowly stood up and said in a long, teasing voice, "Are you full?"

Luo Sanrong nodded.

"Now that you're full, let's go!" Li Yin stood up.

Suddenly, Luo Sanzhen called Li Yin to stop him. Li Yin sat back down. Luo Sanzhen mustered up the courage to ask, "Your Highness, my master once said that a gentleman should not be ashamed to ask questions."

Li Yin interrupted him and said, "I see. Just ask!"

Luo Sanzhen lowered her head, but forced herself to meet Li Yin's gaze and asked, "Um...what do you mean by asking me to stay by your side?"

As soon as Luo Sanrong finished speaking, the hall became so quiet that one could hear the soft sound of incense ash falling from the incense burner.

Li Yin looked at his bewildered look and suddenly chuckled softly. The laughter lacked the previous teasing and instead had a bit of straightforwardness and frankness.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his fingertips absentmindedly.

"What else does it mean?" He said calmly, as if he was talking about something very ordinary. "It means literally."

"I just want to keep you by my side," he said, his voice rising slightly at the end, with a sense of self-assurance. His eyes fell on Luo Sanrong's tightly pursed lips, "Isn't this strange?"

Luo Sanrong looked at Li Yin's frank expression, and couldn't tell whether he felt disappointed or something else. He murmured softly, "So that's what you mean."

After Li Yin finished speaking, he stood up and walked out of the hall. He heard no footsteps behind him, paused, turned back to look at Luo Sanrong, and said, "Come over quickly, what are you daydreaming about?"

Luo Sanrong concealed his disappointment, stood up and followed Li Yin: "Yes, Your Highness."

The bluestone pavement under the corridor was hot from the sun. Li Yin walked in front, and the hem of his clothes swept across the ground, raising dust.

Luo Sanrong followed two steps behind, his hands hanging at his sides, his fingertips still numb from clutching the hem of his clothes.

The two men walked one in front and one behind, their shadows stretched long by the sunlight, overlapping and separating on the ground.

Li Yin's steps were neither fast nor slow, and the soles of his boots made a steady sound on the stone slabs. No one could see the faint smile that lingered at the corner of his lips behind his slightly raised jawline.

Luo Sanrong lowered her head even lower. No one knew whether panic or helplessness was in her eyes when she looked at the tall figure in front of her.

The words "stay by my side" are still echoing in my ears, but my heart feels empty, like there is a hole that can never be filled.

She had expected to hear... but she hadn't expected such a straightforward answer, so straightforward that she didn't know whether to be happy or terrified. The feeling of loss crept up her ankles little by little, causing her steps to become heavier.

The wind passed between the two of them, sweeping away the cool fragrance on Li Yin's body and the thin layer of sweat on Luo Sanying's temples.

No one spoke, only two shadows moved silently on the stone road, one hiding a secret joy, the other wrapped in an inexplicable melancholy.

——

The west wing of the Prime Minister's Mansion was silent. The chirping of cicadas in the dense shade broke into bits of gold foil, which fell on the bluestone slabs through the carved lattice fans.

Ji Zeming put down his brush and frowned slightly at the unfinished scroll on the desk. The beauty on the rice paper already had some charm, but the arc at the end of her eyes, which seemed to be smiling but not smiling, lacked some liveliness.

He raised his hand and rubbed his temples. His fingertips were still stained with azurite powder, and light blue traces spread across his plain white shirt, looking like stars scattered in the night sky.

The aroma of agarwood wafted from the Boshan incense burner on the desk, and in a trance, his thoughts were brought back to Luo Sanrong, who was wearing a dancing costume at the envoys' banquet.

That day he was strolling around the palace, but he ran into a young woman in a dancing costume at the corner of the pavilion.

The pale white veil was lifted by the wind, revealing a familiar face underneath. It was Luo Sanrong. He was startled, and when he looked up again, Luo Sanrong had left the place, as if hiding from someone.

Ji Zeming came back to his senses, picked up the pen again, dipped the tip of the pen in the pine soot ink in the inkstone, and his eyes fell on the blank space in the upper right corner of the rice paper.

"You're back, sir." The butler's voice came from outside the door. Ji Zeming was shocked to realize that it was getting late and his father should be back.

Inside the house, he carefully put the scroll into a rosewood box. He did not dare let his father know about Luo Sanrong's existence.

"Is Zeming in there?" The old voice was filled with a sense of majesty.

Ji Zeming didn't hear what the housekeeper said, but no matter what he said, at this moment, his father was sitting opposite him.

Ji Ke's eyes were sharp as a torch. He first swept over the scattered books, including "Zhenguan Zhengyao" and "Yalty and Iron Theory". On top of them were several pages of "Zizhi Tongjian" with dense annotations. The fragrance of ink mixed with the fragrance of agarwood filled the air.

His eyes swept across the plain paper under the paperweight. The blank space where the painting should have been written now only had half a line of words smudged by ink.

"Are you reading?" Ji Ke's voice was not loud, but the ending tone was a bit inquiring. His eyes moved around the pile of books on state governance, and finally fell on Ji Zeming's fingertips stained with azurite powder.

The ink in the inkstone on the desk was still rippling, clearly showing that the pen had just been put down, and the edges of the pages were smooth, obviously not having been turned many times.

"Yes... my son is studying the civil service of the previous dynasty," his Adam's apple moved.

Ji Ke did not expose his poor cover-up and stated his purpose directly: "I have proposed marriage to the daughter of the Minister of War."

Ji Ke's tone softened and he continued, "After you get married, I will make you the crown prince."

He believed that the marriage was a done deal, even though Zhao Wanyong had not yet replied, but he had no choice unless Zhao Wanyong wanted to end his official career.

Ji Zeming's throat tightened, and he finally whispered, "Father, I'm not ready yet."

Before he finished speaking, the bronze paperweight on the desk was suddenly pressed down heavily. Ji Ke leaned forward unconsciously, his eyes locked with Ji Zeming: "Do you think this is just your marriage?"

"How long are you going to do nothing?" he said, feeling disappointed.

Ji Zeming choked up, clutched the corner of his sleeve, and dug his fingertips into his palm, "Father, I..."

The candlelight in the room flickered, casting his shadow on the carved screen, sometimes long, sometimes short.

Ji Ke finally slowed down his tone, with a certainty that was beyond doubt: "You just need to listen to my instructions." He reached out and picked up the teacup, and the boiling hot tea rippled in the cup, and the hot steam blurred the fine lines at the corners of his eyes.

"Zhao Wanyong's daughter has been famous for her beauty and intelligence since she was young. She is proficient in everything from music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. You don't have to worry about anything."

"Father..." Ji Zeming wanted to say something, but was interrupted by Ji Ke raising his hand.

"No need to say more." Ji Ke stood up and looked at Ji Zeming with an unclear emotion in his eyes. "I have made up my mind."

Ji Zeming lowered his head, as if he agreed to everything.