010
With the help of the medicine and silver frost charcoal sent by the Sixth Prince, Si Mianmian's illness gradually improved. Thanks to the Sixth Prince's special treatment, life in Zhuixia Pavilion seemed to get much better, and even the servants of the Imperial Household Department had more genuine smiles when they delivered their allowances.
The sun was shining brightly that day, and Si Mianmian felt a bit more relaxed. Accompanied by Qiu He, she walked deeper into the Imperial Garden, ostensibly to "get some fresh air and dispel her illness." She deliberately avoided the pavilions and towers that the concubines and princesses usually frequented, choosing instead to stroll along the secluded paths.
As they approached a plum grove, they heard a clear and melodious flute tune drifting over. Unlike the formal and restrained music of palace musicians, the flute music carried a touch of casualness and unrestraint, sometimes soaring high and sometimes lingering softly, making it particularly eye-catching on this quiet winter afternoon.
Si Mianmian paused to listen for a moment, a thought stirring in her heart. She gestured for Qiu He to walk quietly, following the sound of the flute. Passing through a moon gate hidden by withered branches, the view suddenly opened up to a small pavilion by the water, its platform extending onto the lake surface covered with a thin layer of ice. On the platform, with her back to Si Mianmian, stood a figure dressed in a crimson brocade robe embroidered with dark silver patterns.
The man was tall and upright, his dark hair tied up with a simple jade hairpin. He held a jade flute in his hand and was playing it with great concentration. Although it was winter, his clothes were not bulky, which only accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Even from behind, he exuded an air of dashing elegance and carefree detachment.
Si Mianmian's heart immediately sounded alarm bells. Such attire, such demeanor, and a young man who dared to play the flute so casually in the palace... A name quickly flashed through her mind—the heir of the Regent's Palace of the non-royal prince, Rong Jingyu.
Survival Handbook Rule 10: Unexpected encounters are often foreshadowing of fate. Whether they bring fortune or misfortune depends on how you respond.
Just as she was about to quietly retreat and leave, not wanting to deal with such a person at this moment, the flute music abruptly stopped.
The flute player seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, and slowly turned around.
Si Mianmian's breath hitched slightly.
The first thing that came into view was an extremely handsome face, completely different from the aloofness of the Sixth Prince Si Yujin and the gentleness of the hostage Xuan Jing. This face had bright, expressive eyebrows and naturally upturned lips, carrying a smile that was three parts lazy and seven parts unruly. His peach blossom eyes sparkled, as if they held tiny starlight, capable of drawing one in with just one glance. His gaze landed precisely on Si Mianmian, with undisguised scrutiny and interest.
"Oh, where did this little fairy come from, drawn here by my flute music?" Rong Jingyu twirled the jade flute between his fingers, his voice carrying a hint of casual teasing as he walked towards her with unhurried steps.
Si Mianmian quickly lowered her eyes, concealing her thoughts. A hint of panic and shyness, as if she had been caught in the act, appeared on her face. She took a small step back, curtsied, and said in a soft voice, "Mianmian was unaware that the young master was here. I have disturbed your enjoyment, so I will take my leave now."
She pointed out his identity to show that she was not acting out of ignorance, while adopting a very humble posture, which was in line with her "cowardly Ninth Princess" persona.
Rong Jingyu chuckled softly, taking a few steps to stand before her, so close that she could smell the faint, crisp scent of pine needles mixed with a hint of wine emanating from him. "Oh? You recognize me? But I don't recall ever having... well, a little princess like you... so pitiful?" He drawled, his gaze sweeping over her still somewhat pale face and slender body, his eyes seemingly frivolous, yet harboring a hint of inquiry deep within.
Si Mianmian felt a chill run down her spine. This young master was indeed as unconventional as rumored, and had a sharp eye. She kept her head down and said softly, "Your Highness is joking. Mianmian is the Ninth Princess, born to Consort Wen. I was ill some time ago and rarely saw outsiders, so it's natural that Your Highness doesn't recognize me."
“Consort Wen? Ninth Princess?” Rong Jingyu stroked his chin, pretending to think, then suddenly realized, “Oh—the one who fell into the water a few days ago and was sick for quite a while?” He changed the subject, with a hint of mockery, “It seems that the water in Taiye Pond not only didn’t drown her, but actually made her even more… charming?”
These words were already somewhat frivolous. Qiuhe, who was listening from the side, was annoyed but dared not utter a sound.
Si Mianmian's hands clenched slightly in her sleeves, but her face still looked like that of a frightened little rabbit, her eyes even slightly red, and her voice choked with sobs: "Your Highness... Your Highness, please don't make fun of Mianmian. That day... that day Mianmian almost met the King of Hell..." As she spoke, she seemed about to shed tears.
An ordinary man, seeing a woman cry because of his actions, would likely feel apologetic or at a loss. But Rong Jingyu was no ordinary man. Instead of restraining himself, he leaned closer, almost feeling his warm breath brush against her forehead. His voice was low and seductively magnetic: "Oh? But I heard that after the Ninth Princess fell into the water, she actually benefited from the misfortune. Not only did she gain the favor of the Sixth Prince, but even my arrogant uncle (referring to the Emperor) has shown more interest in you?"
He really knew everything! And he didn't hesitate to point it out! Si Mianmian felt a strong sense of alarm. This young master was not as simple as the playboy he appeared to be. He had many spies in the palace and was very shrewd.
She raised her teary eyes to look at Rong Jingyu, her gaze filled with grievance, panic, and a hint of sadness at being misunderstood: "Sixth Brother is only showing pity for Mianmian's frail health, and Father... Father was only inquiring as a matter of routine. If these words from the Prince get out, Mianmian... Mianmian will probably have nowhere to stand..." Tears slid down her pale face at just the right moment, dripping onto her clothes and spreading a small dark patch.
Seeing her like this, Rong Jingyu's interest deepened. He straightened up, crossed his arms, and looked at her lazily, saying, "So easily frightened? I was just saying it casually, look how scared you are." He took out a plain white handkerchief embroidered with bamboo from his sleeve and handed it to Si Mianmian, "Here, wipe yourself off. Anyone who didn't know better would think I was bullying you."
Si Mianmian hesitated for a moment, then did not accept the gift. She simply wiped her eyes lightly with her sleeve and whispered, "Thank you, Your Highness, but I dare not accept it."
Rong Jingyu didn't press the matter, casually taking the handkerchief back and raising an eyebrow, "What, are you afraid there's poison on this handkerchief?"
"Mianmian wouldn't dare!" Si Mianmian quickly denied, her voice filled with panic.
"Alright, I'm not teasing you anymore." Rong Jingyu seemed to find it boring and waved his hand. "It's so cold outside, and you've just recovered from your illness. Aren't you afraid of getting sick again if you come out in the wind?" His words sounded like concern, but coming from him, they carried a hint of nonchalance.
Si Mianmian lowered her eyes meekly and said, "Mianmian will go back now."
"Hmm." Rong Jingyu responded, but as Si Mianmian turned to leave, he slowly added, "I heard you're quite good at chess?"
Si Mianmian paused, her heart filled with shock. When did she learn to play chess? The original owner of this body was completely ignorant of it! Was he bluffing her, or... did he know something? She steadied herself and turned back timidly, saying, "Your Highness must have misheard. Mianmian is dull-witted and not good at chess."
Rong Jingyu stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter: "Haha, perhaps I'm mistaken. But life in the palace is so boring. If you really know how to play chess, you can come and play a game with me another day. It's more interesting than sitting alone facing these withered branches." He pointed to the plum trees around them.
Si Mianmian curtsied, but did not reply. She simply said softly, "Mianmian takes her leave." Then, she and Qiuhe left this place of trouble almost as if they were fleeing in panic.
Si Mianmian slowed her pace only after walking quite a distance, a thin layer of sweat breaking out on her back. This Rong Jingyu gave her an extremely dangerous feeling. He seemed carefree and frivolous, but every word he uttered was laced with sarcasm, as if he were testing her limits, or as if he had already seen through her disguise and was merely playing along.
Survival Handbook Postscript: When encountering an unfathomable opponent, the best strategy is to maintain your existing persona and remain unchanged amidst change. Too much talk leads to mistakes, especially in front of intelligent people.
Beside the plum grove, Rong Jingyu watched the direction where Si Mianmian and her servant had disappeared, the playful smile on his lips deepening. He stroked the jade flute in his hand, muttering to himself, his voice filled with unprecedented interest:
"Si Mianmian... a max-level innocent white lotus? Interesting. This lifeless palace has finally welcomed an interesting little thing."
"I wonder what kind of flower you, this little white lotus, can bloom in this muddy swamp?"
"I, the young master, am very much looking forward to it."
He turned around, brought the jade flute to his lips again, and a more unrestrained, even slightly provocative, melody resounded once more amidst the cold lake and mountain scenery. The flute music drifted on, as if announcing to this deep palace that a new, unconventional "player" had noticed the quietly blooming little white lotus.
A new game seems to have just begun.
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