After a long ride—longer than it had any right to be, thanks to a suspiciously slow horse—they finally reached the palace gates.
Waiting there, as if she had been carved out of marble and glued in place, stood a young girl.
Linyue blinked. That face looked familiar.
Ah. It was the same girl from the other night. The one who had been waiting outside the gate when they returned from fighting demons. Was she the official "Welcome Home" greeter? Did the palace just recycle her for all occasions?
Before Linyue could think too deeply about palace staffing policies, she remembered something more important: Shu Mingye was still wrapped around her. Completely unfazed by the decorative statue-girl glaring holes into the ground as she stomped forward. The girl's steps hit the stone path with the intensity of a small earthquake. Each stomp louder than the last, as if she had been waiting not just all day, but all week, rehearsing this exact dramatic entrance.
Linyue gave her a bland, politely uninterested look. The look that said, Please don't make this weird. Please don't make this weird. We are too tired, too bloody, and far too emotionally unstable for weird right now.
Then the girl arrived. Right beside the horse. Eyes locked on Shu Mingye. He still hadn't let go. And now things were, indeed, about to get weird.
Shu Mingye let out a long sigh.
Princess Han again. Of course. What now?
Reluctantly, he released Linyue. Not because he wanted to, but because people were staring and, unfortunately, he had to get off the horse like a civilized person. He landed in one smooth motion, all dark robes and quiet menace, then turned and offered his hand to Linyue. His movements were practiced. Strong grip, steady hold, and just the right amount of gentleness. And the moment her boots touched the ground? He grabbed her hand again.
"What now?" Shu Mingye asked, his tone flat and dripping with impatience.
Princess Han greeted him with a sweet smile, "I was waiting for you," she said softly. "I prepared tea and dessert for us to share."
"No need," Shu Mingye replied, not even blinking. "Just go back to your place."
Ouch. The palace guards standing nearby actually winced.
Princess Han's shoulders drooped. She lowered her head, voice trembling just enough to tug on pity. "I only wanted to thank you… for bringing back my brother."
Shu Mingye's entire expression shifted. His face darkened. "You think I did it because I wanted to?" His voice was sharp and cold. Cold enough to freeze tea, dessert, and whatever hopeful fantasy Princess Han had built in her head.
Linyue still stood right beside him, very much feeling like the third wheel on a very uncomfortable cart. Her expression was neutral, but inside, she was screaming.
Why was she still here? Why hadn't he let go of her hand? Why was she forced to witness this drama like some decorative background plant?
She tried to gently tug her hand free
No luck. Shu Mingye's grip only tightened. Apparently, she was now part of this awkward play whether she liked it or not. The tension thickened until it felt like even the palace statues might shift uncomfortably on their pedestals. Princess Han looked tragic. Shu Mingye looked furious.
And then, salvation arrived.
Someone came sprinting up the path, stumbling and gasping for breath. "Lord!" the man huffed, out of breath. "Prince Lu from Luyan has arrived at the palace. He just got here!"
Linyue's head snapped up in surprise. Prince Lu?
That was unexpected. She knew him well. He had fought beside her and the others outside Luyan's wall, swinging his sword with one hand and flinging sarcastic remarks with the other, like he was trying to annoy the demons to death.
Xuanyi Pavilion had supplied medicine to the soldiers in Luyan. Prince Lu and his sister used to drop by Xuanyi Pavilion like it was their private garden. Mostly to drink tea, steal snacks, and break at least three pieces of furniture each time. But showing up here, in the South? In Shulin Palace of all places?
Linyue frowned. Did he come because of Master Yin Xue? That was the only explanation she could think of, and even that felt like a stretch.
Behind her, Song Meiyu, He Yuying, and Shen Zhenyu all stared at each other with big eyes and tight lips. Not a word passed between them, but their faces screamed in unison: Did you hear that??
Meanwhile, Shu Mingye was still glaring at the messenger. "Why did he come here?" he asked, voice sharp.
The poor messenger, who probably regretted volunteering for this job, straightened his back and delivered the line as bravely as possible. "The prince said he heard about the recent demon attack… and came to deliver medicinal supplies."
Silence. A heavy, awkward, dangerous silence.
Shu Mingye's expression said it all: Medicinal supplies? Really?
As if people ever came to Shulin Palace with hugs and bandages. No one ever came to his palace just to help. They came to poison him, spy on him, or suggest he "die peacefully for the good of the realm."
Medicine? From Luyan?
Sure. And maybe next week the emperor himself would show up at the gate in a frilly apron, holding slightly burnt cookies, and asking, "So… still like your tea extra salty?"
Linyue tilted her head. Medicinal supplies? That was… suspiciously thoughtful and convenient.
Song Meiyu mouthed, He's lying.
He Yuying gave a small nod.
Shen Zhenyu just pinched the bridge of his nose, already done with this entire situation.
Shu Mingye, on the other hand, looked like he was mentally calculating how much trouble it would be to throw a prince out of his palace.
Princess Han, not one to give up easily, stepped forward with her sweetest smile. "I can accompany you to greet Prince Lu."
Without even sparing her a glance, Shu Mingye turned to Linyue instead. "You come with me to greet him."
Linyue blinked.
Princess Han blinked harder.
There was a moment of silence. A long, icy moment filled with invisible daggers flying through the air with most of them aimed at Linyue's back. She could feel the girl glaring at her. There was something flickering in her eyes. Anger? Jealousy? Hunger?
Then it hit her.
Oh. Right. Her appearance. She looked like she had just crawled out of a haunted well after losing a fight with a tomato demon. Hair tangled, robe crumpled, and face smeared with blood enough to scare ghosts back into their graves. No wonder that girl looked at her like that.
Linyue kept her voice calm, casual and professional. "Alright." She was Princess Fu Yuxin right now, after all. If there was a guest, it only made sense for her to greet them as Shu Mingye's... whatever she was pretending to be today.
Shu Mingye nodded, clearly pleased.
Then Linyue tilted her head down toward their hands. His hand. Still holding hers tightly. She raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to go and greet the prince like this?"
Shu Mingye followed her gaze down to their joined hands and then back up to her face. For one long second, he just stared. Processing. Then a laugh slipped out, quick and quiet at first, then helpless and amused.
The poor messenger, who was still standing there silently like a decorative palace tree, flinched. Princess Han stiffened beside him, clearly not expecting that reaction.
Shu Mingye, still chuckling under his breath, finally let go of Linyue's hand. "Good point," he murmured, clearly amused at his own nonsense.
Linyue gave him a long look. She couldn't tell whether he was finally relaxing or slipping into a very specific kind of madness. Either way, at least he had stopped crushing her fingers.
...…
It was already noon when they arrived at the palace. And by the time everything settled down, the sun was almost gone.
Linyue sighed deeply. Great. Another day, another round of disaster, another nap cruelly denied.
After a hot bath that could have boiled cabbage, she changed into a light blue dress. The silver embroidery delicately curled around the sleeves and hem. It was simple, clean, elegant just enough to look like she tried, but not like she was competing in a royal beauty contest. She had limits.
Not long after, Song Meiyu popped into her chamber, armed with a brush, a hairpin, and way too much energy for someone who hadn't napped either.
"Sit," Song Meiyu commanded, already yanking a comb through Linyue's half-dry hair before she could protest.
Ten minutes and several near-scalpings later, Linyue looked presentable. No one would guess she was seconds away from falling asleep standing. Then it hit her.
She didn't know where the palace hall was.
A moment of pure blankness washed over her face. Was she supposed to know that? Why did no one give her a map? Or a palace tour? The palace had at least six confusing wings, three hundred twisty corridors, and possibly one cursed hallway that looped forever. She might as well get lost and walk into the royal kitchen—intentionally, or prison—accidentally. Palace navigation was clearly not her strong suit.
Well. She'd just walk around and ask someone later. Couldn't be that hard.
She opened her chamber door and froze.