He kissed her.
Right on the lips.
No warning. No dramatic pause. No polite royal permission slips. Just a sudden, fierce, clumsy kiss that short-circuited her entire nervous system.
Linyue froze. Her eyes went wide, her heart slamming against her ribs like it had somewhere urgent to be. This was not in the plan. She had come here for snacks, not… smooches.
He kissed her like he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing but was absolutely determined to do it anyway. And the worst part? She didn't hate it. Her lashes fluttered shut before she could think better of it. Her hand moved on its own, reaching up until her fingers curled around his arm. Not to push him away. Not to break the moment. But to hold on tight, like an anchor. Because her thoughts were starting to float somewhere very far away. They were floating, spinning, scattering, colliding with a dozen different memories, a hundred questions, and one very loud, very distracting thought that sounded suspiciously like, "Oh no." And also, "Oh yes."
This was definitely not how midnight snack missions were supposed to go. Midnight snacks were supposed to involve dumplings, maybe sweet tofu. Not… whatever this was. But at the moment, she couldn't even remember what dumplings were.
Meanwhile, Shu Mingye wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. The second she had leaned in earlier, her face far too close and her faint gardenia scent curling through his senses, his brain had quietly packed its things and left. All that was left inside him was instinct. Stubborn, reckless, slightly panicked instinct.
She had been right there. Close enough to touch. Close enough that her lips looked soft, pink, and unfairly tempting. His hand had moved before his mind caught up, and he kissed her. Not perfectly. Not smoothly. Not like some noble, well-rehearsed royal seduction. Just raw, clumsy instinct.
At first, he barely brushed the corner of her lips. Testing. Waiting for a slap. Or a glare. Or maybe a dagger between the ribs. But she stayed still. More than that, she held onto his arm. Tight. As if she had no intention of letting go. That was all it took for his brain to fully short-circuit. Whatever rational thought he had left vanished in a puff of smoke.
With a low, uneven breath, Shu Mingye tilted his head and kissed her again. This time there was no hesitation, no testing. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer until there was barely a sliver of air between them. His other hand slid up to her cheek, thumb brushing her cool skin in a way that made her shiver all the way down to her toes. He kissed her like he had been waiting years or even centuries for this one moment. And maybe he had.
Linyue felt dizzy. Completely dizzy. Her mind went blank. This kiss was her first, and it was nothing like she imagined. It was warm. Overwhelming. Unfairly soft. Consuming in a way that made it impossible to breathe, impossible to think. How was she supposed to think when he was kissing her like that?
She hadn't decided what she truly felt for him yet, but one thing was certain. She did not dislike this. Not the warmth. Not the closeness. And definitely not the kiss.
Meanwhile, Shu Mingye seemed to have made every decision for both of them already. He kissed her again. And again. Greedily. Like a man who had been lost in the desert for years and had finally found water and she was the water. Each kiss was messier than the last, less controlled. His cool, terrifying kingly image had completely evaporated.
Linyue felt like she might float away. Or faint. Whichever came first. She opened her eyes and tried to move, needing air, needing space, needing to think. But his arm only tightened around her waist, holding her in place. His other hand cupped her cheek, keeping her still. So she chose the only method that made sense to her in that moment.
She stepped on his foot. Hard.
Shu Mingye flinched the moment her foot landed on his. His eyes snapped open, and all the fog in his head cleared in one sharp jolt. Reality returned along with a rush of panic. He loosened his arm around her and slowly pulled back, lips leaving hers with clear reluctance.
What on earth had he just done?
Maybe he pushed it too far. No, definitely. His heart raced, but not with excitement this time. What if she ran away? What if she got mad? What if she kicked him again but harder?
But she didn't run. So naturally, he started inspecting her.
She wasn't looking at him. Her head tilted down, her breath coming out in soft little gasps. Her cheeks were a delicate pink. Her ears too. And her lips were a little swollen from the kiss.
Shu Mingye's heart did a joyful flip. Was she… flustered?
A slow smile tugged at his mouth. Dangerous. Hopeful. Maybe a little stupid. In a low and rough voice—part nerves, part something else he didn't dare name, he asked carefully, "I'm sorry. Do you… dislike it?"
What he really wanted to ask was: Do you like it? Can I do it again? Maybe forever?
But common sense, thin as a hair, kept his mouth from going that far. He'd probably get stomped twice if he went that far. He valued his feet.
Linyue was still trying to catch her breath. Her lips parted slightly as she looked up at him. He had the nerve to look sheepish and apologetic, but also very much not sorry at all. That smile on his face was too smug, too happy, and absolutely criminal. She wanted to throw something at it. Maybe his own shoe. Or maybe she should have stomped harder.
Still, she answered truthfully, her voice soft and a little breathless. "I don't dislike it."
She instantly regretted it. Because the moment the words left her mouth, Shu Mingye's eyes lit up. His smile stretched wide—foolish, bright, far too pleased.
Linyue narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. That grin… that ridiculous, hopelessly lovesick grin… was trouble. Clearly, he was enjoying this way too much. She quickly reviewed her options.
Option one: stomp his other foot. Quick and satisfying.
Option two: knee to the stomach. Even quicker, precise, unexpected.
Option three: drag in the royal guards and file a dramatic complaint. That would be glorious. Also useless, since he was the King.
Or option four: the wisest choice, the safest choice.
Escape.
Before Shu Mingye could react, Linyue crouched down—gracefully in her mind, chaotically in reality—and ducked under the arm still lazily wrapped around her waist. She slipped free and scrambled for the door. His hand swiped at the empty air uselessly as she darted out of reach.
Too late. With deadly precision, she yanked the door open, slipped through the gap, and slammed it shut behind her. No glances back. No goodbyes. No snacks.
Shu Mingye stayed frozen, staring at the closed door. His hand was still half-raised like he couldn't believe she had escaped him that easily. Meanwhile, Linyue was already sprinting down the hallway. Her heart thudded louder than her footsteps. Her face felt like it was on fire. Her lips still felt…
No. Absolutely not. She was not going to think about that. Not now. Not ever.
When she reached her chamber, she shut the door, locked it twice, and collapsed face-first onto the bed. Her cheeks burned. Her heart still raced. And worst of all… no snacks. Not a single crumb. Not even a whiff of roasted chestnuts.
She groaned into the pillow.
Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful.
With a heavy sigh, she rolled over and burrowed herself deeper into the blankets. Face squished, hair a mess, soul mildly shattered.
Sleep. Sleep would fix everything. It would erase the missed dumplings, the stolen kiss, and most importantly the foolish grin of a certain someone's face.
Yes. Sleep was her only escape.
…Except sleep betrayed her too.
The next morning, she was dragged out of a lovely dream involving warm dumplings and lotus seed pie by a series of firm, insistent knocks on her door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.