022
In the early summer imperial garden, pomegranate blossoms blazed like fire, and willows provided ample shade. Si Mianmian wore a light blue gauze dress, with only a newly picked magnolia blossom in her hair, adorned with no other ornaments. She was as pure and beautiful as a gardenia glistening with morning dew. She strolled leisurely, but her eyes were constantly watching the path leading to the martial arts training ground outside the palace.
Survival Handbook Rule #22: Sometimes, making a request is the best way to test the waters. What you ask for isn't important; what matters is the attitude and bottom line revealed in the other person's response—that's where the real value lies.
Sure enough, in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, a familiar voice with a lazy smile came from afar, accompanied by unhurried footsteps.
"Oh dear, did the sun rise in the west today? Instead of her embroidery and painting at Zhuixia Pavilion, our Princess Zhaochen has the leisure to come here to admire flowers under the scorching sun?"
Si Mianmian's heart skipped a beat. She quickly composed herself, and when she turned around, her face was beaming with a charming smile. With a touch of naivety, she lifted her skirt and ran to meet him, her voice sweet and clear, filled with undisguised joy.
"Brother Crown Prince!"
The newcomer was none other than Rong Jingyu. Today, he wasn't wearing the official robes of a prince, but rather a dark, fitted outfit embroidered with dark gold dragon patterns. His black hair was tied high, making him appear even more upright and handsome. He looked less of his usual carefree and unrestrained demeanor and more of a sharp, heroic air. He had clearly just returned from martial arts practice; fine beads of sweat still clung to his forehead, and he radiated a vibrant heat and a faint, refreshing scent, like that of pine trees bathed in sunlight.
Si Mianmian ran up to him, tilted her little face up, and looked him up and down with bright eyes. Finally, her gaze fell on the ornately decorated sword at his waist, and she made no attempt to hide her curiosity and admiration: "Brother Prince, did you just finish practicing martial arts? You look so smart! Like...like a hero from a picture book!"
Rong Jingyu raised a brow, a playful smile playing on his lips, clearly enjoying her straightforward praise. He stood with his arms crossed, watching her with a leisurely air: "Little darling, you're being so sweet-talking today, what trouble have you gotten yourself into that you need me to cover for you?"
"No way!" Si Mianmian's face fell, and she pouted as if she had suffered a great injustice. She subconsciously reached out and grabbed Rong Jingyu's sleeve, shaking it gently. Her voice also became coquettish and nasal. "Mianmian has been so good lately! It's just... it's just that I think the young master's martial arts seem really amazing..."
She paused, then raised her clear, almond-shaped eyes, which were filled with pure expectation and a hint of cautious pleading, and said in a way that was sure to shock:
"Brother Prince! Will you teach me martial arts?"
Before Rong Jingyu could react, she used both hands and feet to try and cling to him like a koala! Of course, she was very careful, only loosely wrapping her arms around his, leaning most of her weight against him, adopting an extremely dependent and affectionate posture, her face almost pressed against his arm, and softly pleading:
"Please, Your Highness! Mianmian promises to study hard! I will never complain!"
Survival Handbook Note: Appropriate physical contact is a catalyst for building closer relationships. Especially for someone like Rong Jingyu, who seems carefree and unrestrained but is actually very guarded, breaking the safe distance with a "disrespect" is sometimes more effective than a thousand words.
Rong Jingyu was clearly caught off guard by her sudden move, his body stiffening for a moment. Looking down at the small figure practically clinging to his arm, feeling the soft, fragrant touch through the thin fabric, and smelling the delicate scent of magnolia blossoms in her hair, a fleeting surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly transforming into a deeper, more inquisitive gaze. He didn't immediately push her away; instead, he leaned closer, his voice low and alluring, uttering a seductive, magnetic whisper:
"Oh? Practicing martial arts?" His warm breath brushed against her earlobe. "My little darling, wielding swords and spears is very tiring. You'll sweat, your hands will ache, and you'll fall. With your delicate skin, if you get even a scratch, the Empress Dowager and the Crown Prince will blame you, and I can't bear the consequences."
His words were half teasing and half probing, as he wanted to see if she was just being sarcastic or if she had a deeper meaning.
Si Mianmian felt the pressure of his sudden closeness and his unique masculine aura, and her cheeks flushed uncontrollably—this time, it was seven-tenths genuine. But she forced herself to remain calm, not retreating but instead holding his arm even tighter, tilting her face up, her eyes stubborn and earnest:
“I’m not afraid of hardship! Mianmian is serious!” She slightly furrowed her delicate brows, a hint of worry flashing across her face. “The other day… in the Imperial Garden, if it weren’t for Sixth Brother and Prince Brother’s timely intervention… Mianmian is still terrified when she thinks about it. In this deep palace, we can’t always rely on others to save us. Mianmian thinks… even if we only learn a little bit of self-defense skills, it’s better than having to depend on others for everything.”
She attributed her motives to "the accident a few days ago" and "wanting to protect herself," which was reasonable and subtly revealed her independence and unwillingness to completely depend on others. She adopted a very humble attitude, but her reasons were sufficient.
Rong Jingyu gazed at the genuine worry and determination in her eyes, his nonchalant smile fading slightly. He naturally didn't believe she simply wanted to learn some "self-defense skills," but the reason was indeed plausible, even... somewhat surprising. He had originally thought she would be more content to live a peaceful life by taking advantage of the Empress Dowager's favor and the Crown Prince's protection.
"Wanting to learn martial arts is a good thing." He straightened up, but didn't shake her off, letting her hang on him. His tone returned to its usual languidness. "However, learning martial arts isn't something that can be accomplished in a day; it requires perseverance. With your tendency to lose interest quickly, how many days can you keep it up?"
"I can manage!" Si Mianmian immediately promised, raising three fingers as if to swear, "If Brother Prince doesn't believe me, you can test Mianmian! If Mianmian utters a single complaint, then... then Mianmian will be punished by not eating any snacks for a month!"
Her childish vows and oaths, coupled with her serious little expression, finally made Rong Jingyu chuckle softly. He reached out with his other free hand and lightly tapped her forehead with his knuckles: "Snacks? Your threats won't work on this young master."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over her slender wrists and delicate waist, his eyes darkening, and suddenly said, "Teaching you isn't out of the question."
Si Mianmian's eyes lit up instantly, as if they were filled with stars.
“However,” Rong Jingyu’s tone shifted, a wicked smile curving his lips, “this young master never teaches for free. What do you plan to use to pay your tuition?”
He started again, with that familiar, ambiguous probing.
Si Mianmian understood, but her face showed just the right amount of confusion as she blinked: "Tuition? Mianmian... Mianmian's monthly allowance isn't much, but I can save it all for my brother, the young master! Or, or what does my brother like? Mianmian can ask the Empress Dowager for a reward..."
"Vulgar things." Rong Jingyu scoffed lightly, clearly looking down on these things. He leaned down again, getting close to her, their noses almost touching, his voice low and deadly seductive, "The fee I want is very simple."
He paused deliberately, admiring the girl's slightly held breath and the blush creeping onto her ears as he approached, before slowly and deliberately saying, word by word:
"From now on, when there are no outsiders, you are not allowed to call me 'Your Highness,' but 'Brother Jingyu.'" His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint. "Also, before practicing martial arts each day, you must first serve me a cup of 'Hidden Fragrance Soup,' brewed by your own hand, just like the one served at the Eastern Palace that day. How about it? Can you afford this tuition fee?"
This request, seemingly unreasonable, is actually... far more about intimacy than substance. What he wants is a more private name, a sentiment that is uniquely his own.
Si Mianmian's heart skipped a beat. She looked at the handsome face so close to hers, his peach blossom eyes reflecting her own somewhat helpless expression. She bit her lower lip, as if after a difficult internal struggle, before finally uttering a whisper:
“…Brother Jingyu.”
Her voice was soft and gentle, tinged with shyness, yet it clearly reached Rong Jingyu's ears.
Then, she nodded emphatically, as if she had made up her mind: "Okay! Mianmian promises you! I'll make you tea every day!"
Rong Jingyu smiled with satisfaction, a smile as gentle as a spring breeze across a frozen river, carrying genuine joy. Finally, in a moment of "mercy," he gently tapped her forehead with a finger, "pushing" her away from him slightly, maintaining a subtle distance that seemed distant yet still allowed them to feel each other's presence.
"Deal." He straightened up, patted his robes which were covered in dust, and said, "Tomorrow at 3:45 AM, in the bamboo grove in the southwest corner of the Imperial Garden. No waiting after that." After saying that, he turned and left without another word, his back view free and unrestrained.
After taking a few steps, he stopped again without turning around, and just waved his hand lazily: "Remember, dress neatly, don't trip over your skirt, or I won't comfort you if you cry."
Si Mianmian stood there, watching the figure in black disappear into the distance. Her forced composure slowly relaxed, and she let out a soft sigh. She raised her hand to touch her forehead where his fingertips had touched her; a trace of warmth still lingered there.
Survival Handbook Revisited: The art of negotiation lies in getting what each party needs. Sometimes, what appears to be a concession is actually a strategic retreat, using the least cost to obtain the most crucial entry ticket.
She succeeded. Not only did she gain the opportunity to learn martial arts from him, but more importantly, she established the more intimate address of "Brother Jingyu" and the daily "tea-serving" time alone together. This undoubtedly took a significant step forward in the ambiguous relationship between them.
Learning martial arts was a pretense; her true purpose was to use the opportunity to get closer to, observe deeply, and even... subtly influence this unpredictable prince.
As for Rong Jingyu, he seemed to have been "tricked," but who can say that he wasn't just going with the flow and happy to see it happen?
The final chapter of the survival manual: The most skillful hunters often appear as prey. While you think you're setting the stage, you may have already become the most conspicuous pawn in someone else's game. This process of teaching and learning is destined to be anything but peaceful.
At 3:45 AM the next day, as dawn broke and the bamboo forest was still and quiet, Si Mianmian, dressed in a neat light blue narrow-sleeved riding outfit, appeared precisely at the agreed location. Rong Jingyu was already waiting with his sword in hand, a playful smile on his face.
"Little darling, you're on time. Come on, let your brother see how long you can last in your first lesson as an apprentice."
The rustling of bamboo leaves concealed the "teaching" that was about to begin in the forest, as well as the undercurrents surging in everyone's hearts.
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