012
As the twelfth lunar month approached, preparations for the New Year began in the palace, and a busy yet festive atmosphere permeated the air. The Empress Dowager's return to the palace and her obvious favoritism were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, subtly but significantly altering Si Mianmian's situation in the harem. The once deserted Zhuixia Pavilion now occasionally saw lower-ranking concubines or head eunuchs coming to "visit," their words tinged with a cautious attempt to curry favor.
Si Mianmian maintained her docile and timid demeanor, treating everyone with utmost politeness, neither appearing arrogant nor overly affectionate, striking the perfect balance. She knew that the Empress Dowager's favor was a protective shield, but certainly not a panacea. In this deep palace, one wrong step could lead to utter ruin. She needed to leverage this "tailwind" to weave a more solid network of relationships for herself.
Survival Handbook Rule Twelve: Rise with the tide, not become arrogant. True wisdom lies in using the momentum of advancement to quietly lay more pieces on the chessboard.
On this fine day, the winter sun shone with a lazy warmth. Si Mianmian heard that the old plum trees in the southeast corner of the Imperial Garden were blooming beautifully. Remembering that the Empress Dowager seemed to have mentioned liking the refreshing fragrance of plum blossoms, she had an idea. She wanted to pick a few of the best ones and send them to Renshou Palace to be placed in a vase, both to show her filial piety and to please the Empress Dowager.
She led Qiuhe, deliberately avoiding the paths where she might encounter other concubines and princesses, and walked slowly along the path beside Taiye Pond. When she passed the familiar pond shaded by green bamboo where she had "coincidentally" met Xuanjing, Si Mianmian paused almost imperceptibly, her eyes flashing back to the cold and lonely figure of the hostage prince from that day, before she resumed her usual pace.
Just past the artificial hill, a grove of red plum blossoms in full bloom came into view. The gnarled branches twisted and turned, the flowers were a riot of color, and the cool fragrance was truly refreshing. As Si Mianmian carefully selected the blossoms, a magnetic voice with a touch of languid laughter suddenly rang out from behind her:
"Oh, isn't this our Ninth Princess? What a coincidence!"
Si Mianmian's back stiffened slightly. That voice… She slowly turned around and saw Prince Rong Jingyu leaning against an old plum tree, his arms crossed, looking at her with a half-smile, under the sparse shadows of the gnarled branches. He wasn't wearing his formal princely robes today, but only a dark crimson brocade robe with flowing cloud patterns, over which he wore a black fox fur cloak. His dark hair was loosely tied up with a simple jade hairpin, with a few stray strands falling across his forehead, adding to his untamed and dashing air. He wore that signature, cynical smile, and his peach blossom eyes shone brightly, as if filled with dappled sunlight, yet more insightful than the winter wind.
"Mianmian greets Your Highness." Si Mianmian quickly lowered her eyelashes, concealing the fleeting wariness in her eyes, and gave a proper bow. Her voice remained soft and sweet. "I never expected to meet Your Highness here."
Rong Jingyu chuckled softly, straightened up, and slowly approached, his boots crunching softly on the snow strewn with petals. He stopped a step away from her, his height giving him an undeniable air of authority. He leaned closer, his gaze unabashedly fixed on her face, his tone laced with undisguised mockery: "My little darling, we meet again. It seems this Imperial Garden... has quite a connection with both me and the Ninth Princess?"
He deliberately emphasized the words "Little Darling," his tone tender and affectionate, but it sent alarm bells ringing in Si Mianmian's heart. The term was far too intimate and frivolous; it should never be used to address a princess.
Two blushes appeared on Si Mianmian's face at the right moment. She took half a step back like a startled deer, lowered her head, and unconsciously twisted her clothes with her hands. Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz: "Your Highness... Your Highness, please don't tease Mianmian."
"Teasing?" Rong Jingyu raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over her slightly red nose and her restless little hands, his smile deepening. "This young master is truly sincere. I heard that the Ninth Princess was quite favored by the Empress Dowager a few days ago? That's truly something to celebrate."
His information network was indeed excellent. Si Mianmian sneered inwardly, but on the surface she appeared bewildered and flattered: "It's...it's because Grandmother is kind and doesn't despise Mianmian for being foolish."
“Foolish?” Rong Jingyu chuckled softly as if she had heard an amusing joke. Her laughter was particularly clear in the silent plum grove. “If the Ninth Princess is foolish, then there are probably very few smart people in the entire palace.”
He changed the subject, his gaze sweeping over the blooming red plum blossoms on the branches: "Is the princess here to admire the plum blossoms?"
Si Mianmian secretly breathed a sigh of relief and replied in accordance with his words, "Yes, seeing that these old plum trees are blooming so well, I wanted to pick a few branches to send to my grandmother."
"Oh? Your filial piety is commendable." Rong Jingyu nodded, seemingly casually strolling to a plum tree with a unique shape. He pointed to a branch that was growing sideways with particularly full and dense flower buds, "I think that one is quite good. Its shape and artistic conception are both excellent, and it is most suitable for the Empress Dowager's demeanor."
The flower branch was indeed exquisite, but it grew extremely tall, far beyond the reach of someone of Si Mianmian's stature. Upon seeing this, Qiu He was about to step forward when Rong Jingyu glanced at her indifferently, causing her to instinctively stop in her tracks.
Rong Jingyu withdrew his gaze and looked at Si Mianmian again, a meaningful smile curving his lips: "This young master helped the princess pluck this plum blossom, so how should the princess thank me?"
"He's here." Si Mianmian thought to herself, "He really won't let me off easily." She raised her clear, helpless eyes, like a doe's, and said softly, "Mianmian... Mianmian is of lowly status and has nothing of value. I don't know what I have that could catch the eye of the young master... I'm afraid I can't repay the young master's kindness."
"Who said that?" Rong Jingyu said slowly, taking out a small and exquisite sandalwood chessboard and two boxes of jade chess pieces from his sleeve, and casually placing them on the stone table beside him. "I recently acquired a fine chess set and was worried about having no one to play with. I have long heard of the Ninth Princess... well, she is quick-witted. How about she play a game with me as a token of my gratitude?"
His words, spoken lightly, sent a jolt through Si Mianmian's heart. He had indeed investigated her! The original owner of this body knew absolutely nothing about chess; where did his "long-standing knowledge" come from? Was he testing her background after her transmigration, or did he have another purpose?
Si Mianmian's face showed just the right amount of panic and shame, and she waved her hands repeatedly: "Your Highness, please don't listen to other people's nonsense. Mianmian... Mianmian doesn't know how to play chess. She doesn't even recognize all the chess pieces. I'm afraid she will spoil Your Highness's enjoyment."
Rong Jingyu ignored her refusal and sat down on the stone bench, starting to arrange the chess pieces. His tone was leisurely and unquestionable: "It's alright. My chess skills are also mediocre. It's just a pastime. Why is the princess being so modest? Or... is the princess unwilling to do me the honor?"
The last sentence was delivered with a slightly rising tone, carrying a hint of barely perceptible pressure.
Si Mianmian knew that she couldn't avoid this game of chess. If she insisted on refusing, it would only make her seem guilty. In a flash, she made her decision. She timidly stepped forward, sat down opposite Rong Jingyu, and whispered, "Then... then Mianmian will make a fool of herself. If I don't play well, please don't laugh at me, Your Highness."
“Of course not.” Rong Jingyu, playing black, made the first move, placing her piece decisively.
At the start of the game, Si Mianmian indeed behaved like a true beginner, hesitating when picking up pieces, making moves without any strategy, and even "accidentally" placing pieces in insignificant places several times, making Qiu He, who was watching from the side, secretly anxious. She deliberately created a sense of clumsiness, as if she was trying hard to play well but was powerless to do so.
Rong Jingyu didn't expose her, but leisurely placed his pieces, a playful smile always playing on his lips, as if watching an interesting performance. His chess style seemed bold and expansive, but in reality, every move was full of hidden tricks. Whenever Si Mianmian thought she could get away with it, a single move would force her fragile defenses into a desperate situation.
Survival Handbook Note: Sometimes, feigning weakness isn't true weakness, but rather a way to see through your opponent's tactics. In a situation of absolute disadvantage, a perfect defeat is more effective at lowering the opponent's guard than a forced draw.
Sure enough, in less than half an incense stick's time, Si Mianmian's white pieces were completely routed. Looking at the chessboard, her face fell, her eyes reddened, and she said in a tearful voice, "Your Highness's chess skills are superb, Mianmian... Mianmian admits defeat."
Rong Jingyu did not immediately put away the game. He held a black piece between his long fingers, playing with it, while his gaze remained fixed on Si Mianmian, as if trying to see into the depths of her heart through her tearful eyes. “Ninth Princess,” he said slowly, his voice lower, “your game… is quite well-structured.”
Si Mianmian's heart tightened suddenly, but her face showed even more fear: "Your Highness, please don't make fun of Mianmian, Mianmian just made a rash decision..."
"Is that so?" Rong Jingyu slammed a chess piece onto the corner of the board, the very spot where Si Mianmian had seemingly unintentionally but cleverly defused one of his killing moves. "On the thirty-seventh move of the opening, this 'pong' seemed illogical, but it precisely blocked the key point of my side development; on the seventy-second move of the middle game, this 'retreat' seemed cowardly, but it preserved a large area of territory in your lower right corner. If you hadn't later... unintentionally lost a few pieces, the situation would still be uncertain."
With each word he spoke, Si Mianmian's heart sank a little deeper. He had seen through her chess moves so thoroughly! She thought she had disguised herself perfectly, but she never expected that she would still be full of flaws in his eyes.
“Princess,” Rong Jingyu leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them. The crisp scent of pine needles mingled with a faint plum blossom fragrance wafted towards them. He lowered his voice, speaking in a volume only the two of them could hear, “Why must you always wear a mask before me? You go to such lengths to curry favor with the Empress Dowager, to maneuver between the Sixth Prince and the hostages—what is it all for? Perhaps… we can cooperate?”
Si Mianmian suddenly looked up, meeting his all-seeing, captivating eyes. In that instant, she felt all her pretense stripped away, leaving her completely exposed to his gaze. A chill ran down her spine.
But she was, after all, Si Mianmian, a "max-level player" who could navigate modern society with ease. After the extreme shock came extreme calm. She quickly lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling violently, as if frightened by his words, her voice trembling genuinely: "Your Highness... what are you saying? Mianmian doesn't understand... Mianmian just... just wants to live well with my mother in the palace..." As she spoke, a tear slid perfectly down her cheek, landing on the stone table and spreading into a small, dark dot.
Rong Jingyu looked at her like this, his eyes probing deeper, yet a faint hint of appreciation also flashed across them. He leaned back in his chair, resuming his languid posture, as if his earlier earth-shattering remark was merely a casual remark: "Fine, if you don't understand, you don't understand. It seems the princess is truly 'not good' at chess."
He stood up, dusted off non-existent dust from his robes, and looked up at the sky: "It's getting late, I should head back." He walked to the old plum tree, lightly touched the ground with his toes, and gracefully leaped up, easily breaking off the exquisite branch he had just pointed to, and handing it to Si Mianmian.
"Here, I promised you."
Si Mianmian accepted the flower branch, its fragrance of plum blossoms refreshing and invigorating. She whispered, "Thank you, Your Highness."
Rong Jingyu gave her a deep look, turned to leave, took two steps, then seemed to remember something, turned back and smiled, "By the way, Ninth Princess, next time if you want to show weakness, you can be more precise with the timing of your tears. However... this young master still appreciates it."
After saying that, he laughed loudly and strode away, his crimson figure quickly disappearing into the depths of the plum grove.
Si Mianmian held the cold plum branch, standing still for a long time. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows on her face.
Rong Jingyu is more difficult to deal with than I imagined, and also... more interesting.
Survival Handbook Reiteration: When your disguise is exposed, instead of panicking and denying it, play along and maintain your lowly persona. The most skillful lie is nine parts truth and one part falsehood, with that crucial one part hidden deep within. This game has only just begun.
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