Chapter 6: Let Me Think About It

The Emperor’s command tent was pitched in a quiet area away from the bustle. Still, even in the quiet, the occasional sounds of servants and guards moving outside drifted in, keeping Ning Zhaorou’s nerves on edge.

Yin Mingyu didn’t seem to have decided how to deal with her. After she finished begging for mercy, he gave her no reply, instead turning to the memorials on his desk. The sound of paper rustling somehow made her feel a little more at ease.

But kneeling for so long hurt.

She waited and waited, until another servant entered to change the Emperor’s tea.

Yin Mingyu took a short break, his gaze lowering to her again. Steam rose gently from the tea, the scent of it spreading through the tent.

At last, he spoke again, asking, “Why were you dressed as a maid that night?”

Ning Zhaorou had originally planned to explain everything once her situation with Chu Changfeng was settled. But she hadn’t even had a chance to meet him before crashing headfirst into the Emperor himself.

How was she supposed to make something up now?

Yin Mingyu watched her still flattened on the ground, forehead nearly pressed to the floor. She stammered for a long time without managing a clear answer. He sighed lightly, closed his eyes, and pressed his fingers to his brow.

“Raise your head and speak.”

At his words, Ning Zhaorou cautiously straightened a little, revealing a tear-streaked, beautiful face. She quickly wiped at her eyes and dared not look up any higher.

Yin Mingyu rested with eyes closed a while longer, until he finally heard her speak. She was like a clam—needing a firm knock just to open her mouth a crack.

“That night, this subject’s daughter… was simply feeling playful. I wanted to walk around, so I dressed up as a maid.”

Silence.

Yin Mingyu opened his eyes to look at her. That was the most obvious lie anyone had dared tell him to his face.

He’d seen countless beauties, and while Ning Zhaorou was indeed as lovely as a flower, to him it made no difference.

Then he noticed her cheeks flush a delicate red, the timid shame of a young maiden on full display, and she continued haltingly:

“I also heard that Chu—Chu Little General was on duty. I thought… I thought…”

She trailed off, but Yin Mingyu understood.

So she had feelings for the young General of the Chu family.

Though nothing serious had happened that night, he had touched her, held her—by accident or not. And from the look of her now, it seemed she had no wish to enter the palace?

No—more than that. She was practically one step from saying she and Chu Changfeng had mutual affection.

Yin Mingyu cut her off, his voice smooth: “You and Chu Changfeng—are you engaged?”

Ning Zhaorou froze. Her lips parted slightly, but she could only shake her head in silence.

“Then… have you privately pledged yourselves to one another?” His eyes, a soft brown, were calm as he asked. Though she remained mute and unmannered, he didn’t show anger—just posed the question casually, even gently.

Ning Zhaorou flushed bright red. She didn’t dare admit to such a thing. She wasn’t even sure if Chu Changfeng would agree. What if he rejected her? Then the Emperor would know she’d declared feelings on her own—would that not be an even graver offense?

So she could only stammer: “No.”

“You don’t want to enter the palace,” Yin Mingyu said, cutting straight to the heart of her anxiety and panic. His earlier thoughts dissolved into a soft chuckle.

Ning Zhaorou quickly tried to explain, “Your Majesty, if I could serve you in the palace, it would be my greatest honor. It’s just that I—I’m willful and reckless, I lack proper decorum. And today, I… I’ve already offended the Second Princess. I fear… that once in the palace, I’d say or do the wrong thing and anger Your Majesty…”

She couldn’t say she didn’t want to. How could she dare say such a thing?

Yin Mingyu told her to rise.

Ning Zhaorou had been kneeling for a while. When she finally stood up, her knees were sore and aching, but the discomfort faded quickly. She steadied herself, hands nervously clenching at her sides, her gaze lowered, not daring to meet his eyes.

“If you’re afraid,” Yin Mingyu said calmly, “then go back for now. Let Me think about it.”

With that, he no longer looked at her.

Ning Zhaorou quietly responded with a “Yes, Your Majesty,” and cautiously withdrew from the tent.

Even after returning to her own tent, her mind was still adrift. She didn’t even register what Shuangwu was saying to her.

The Second Princess had quarreled with her, and it had escalated all the way to the Emperor. Though His Majesty had ultimately punished the princess and not her, and on the surface it seemed like he was taking her side, the more she thought about it, the less reassuring it felt. The Emperor might have chosen not to blame her, but he’d also done nothing to stop others from doing so.

Ning Zhaorou had just stepped back into her tent when word came that Consort Liang had sent someone over with medicine.

The maid who arrived was one of Consort Liang’s close attendants. She smiled as she handed over the medicine. “Consort Liang said the young lady suffered grievance today. Since the Second Princess has already been punished, let’s consider the matter settled. This is medicine from the palace—very effective. These hairpins and ornaments are also gifts from the consort.”

After speaking, the maid gave a slight bow and signaled her companions to hand over the items.

Ning Zhaorou’s expression faltered slightly. She tightly clasped her hands and forced a polite smile, properly bowed, and expressed her thanks.

No sooner had the consort’s people left than Ning Wanqing came to visit.

She was clearly there to pass on a message—and also to see for herself how miserable Ning Zhaorou looked.

“Father said,” Ning Wanqing announced, “if you can’t behave yourself on Mount E’ming, he’ll send you straight home. Save him the trouble of cleaning up after you.”

Her gaze drifted inward and spotted the pile of jewelry Consort Liang had just delivered. She gave a derisive snort. “Well, well, Second Sister. You’ve really turned misfortune into a blessing. The Second Princess was scolded by His Majesty because of you, and now Consort Liang is sending you gifts. Truly, what a kind and generous heart she has.”

Ning Zhaorou stepped back, tilted her head toward the jewelry, and walked over to pick some out, offering them to Ning Wanqing. “If you want them, take them all.”

That generous?

“What are you up to?” Ning Wanqing eyed her suspiciously.

Ning Zhaorou lowered her gaze. “I don’t want to be sent home.”

…

Ning Wanqing, after selecting a few hairpins, left briskly. At last, no more visitors came to the tent.

Shuangwu brought in hot water to help Ning Zhaorou wash up. When she removed her outer clothes and was left in only a thin dudou, the skin revealed beneath bore more than just the bruises from the other day—some faint blue marks still lingered, but new red welts had appeared too.

“Young Miss—!” Shuangwu gasped, rushing forward in alarm.

Ning Zhaorou sat on the couch, her head lowered as she looked at the red marks on her waist, left by being hit with the feathered arrow. Those weren’t too bad. She rolled up her trouser legs—her knees were the real issue, red and swollen, though not terribly so. She hadn’t kneeled that long, after all.

“Miss, how did it get this bad? I’ll go find some medicine!” Shuangwu hurried toward the cabinet.

The medicine Consort Liang’s people had brought was still sitting on the table, untouched. Ning Zhaorou hadn’t dared use it. The ointments she’d brought herself were just ordinary salves—they might help a bit, but the pain would linger for days.

She kept thinking about what His Majesty meant when he said, “Let Me think about it.”

Did that mean… he still intended for her to enter the palace?

But His Majesty hadn’t held a selection for consorts in a long time. For him to summon one young girl like her—what would that even mean?

She had thought he would punish her for kicking him, but today’s events suggested otherwise. His temper didn’t seem that terrible, and he hadn’t shown anger toward her.

So why… why was she still so afraid?