Chapter 9

At noon, Zhao Mingzhu opened her eyes to find Gu Yu standing in front of her. “Awake now?”

Zhao Mingzhu tried to bluff. “No, I was meditating.”

Gu Yu snorted, looking at her like she was an idiot. “Then next time, keep your snoring down. You nearly blew the roof off.”

Exposed, Zhao Mingzhu remained unfazed. Seeing that everyone else had left, she stretched lazily. “I don’t know how to play the zither, so sleeping was my only option.”

Gu Yu looked at her and had to admit—Zhao Mingzhu was stunning. Her brows were like distant mountain mist, her cheeks like lamb-fat jade, flushed from sleep as if naturally blushed. She looked like a morning rose kissed by dew.

She tossed a handkerchief at Zhao Mingzhu. “Wipe your drool. It’s disgusting.”

Zhao Mingzhu didn’t mind. She grabbed it and wiped her face haphazardly—then suddenly remembered the plot from before she fell asleep. Her head instantly felt twice as heavy. She mumbled a quick “thanks” and dashed off to find Su Lu.

…

Zhao Mingzhu arrived at the side room and bumped into the person she’d previously arranged. She quickly grabbed them.

“Crown Princess, I’ve got it. Why are you here?” The person was holding the clothes they’d stolen while Su Lu was bathing.

Zhao Mingzhu let out a breath of relief—thank goodness she made it in time.

The original host had ordered someone to steal Su Lu’s clothes, then plant her sachet on a beggar and send him to the Su family to cause a scandal and ruin Su Lu’s reputation.

Zhao Mingzhu now felt Gu Yu had been absolutely right. These schemes were painfully dumb. Had the original host never considered how flimsy it was to smear someone with just a sachet?

Su Lu could easily claim she’d lost it. And if she interrogated the beggar, it wouldn’t take more than three questions to expose the lie.

Zhao Mingzhu coughed and reached out. “Just give me the sachet.”

The person didn’t understand but handed over the clothes anyway.

“Pretend this never happened. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Crown Princess.”

Zhao Mingzhu took the sachet and thought for a moment. She planned to throw it away—but the bundle of clothes was too bulky. Tossing it anywhere would be risky if someone found it. After a moment’s hesitation, she gritted her teeth and decided to return the clothes while Su Lu was still bathing.

No sooner said than done. Zhao Mingzhu turned and entered the side quarters, checking each room until she heard running water. That had to be it.

The nameplate read: Su Lu.

Zhao Mingzhu quietly pushed open the door, tiptoed in, and bent down to place the clothes back into the laundry basket. She was tense the entire time, silently marveling at how hard it must be to be a thief.

But of course—something went wrong.

Su Lu, somehow sensing something, suddenly shouted: “Who’s there?!”

Zhao Mingzhu didn’t hesitate and bolted. Behind her came Su Lu’s cry: “Thief! Thief! Someone help!”

The loud commotion quickly drew the attention of the academy’s female officials. Zhao Mingzhu, knowing only the way she’d come, glanced left and right—then scrambled up the wall with hands and feet.

Teacher, Zihan won’t sign up for any more transmigration plots.

T/N: Zihan is presumably the transmigrator’s original identity.

Thankfully, heaven showed her a bit of mercy. She managed to climb over the wall just before the crowd arrived. Ducking around a corner, she darted about like a headless fly, desperately searching for an exit. But just then, she overheard voices from the other side of the wall—female officials were ordering guards to block every exit. They were determined to catch the thief.

“…”

Zhao Mingzhu considered her options, then fixed her gaze on the central pavilion. Might as well hide and wait it out. She read the plaque: Observatory Pavilion.

No time to think—she pushed open the door and rushed inside to find a hiding spot. But the interior was cold and bare, with no cover in sight.

Left with no choice, Zhao Mingzhu bolted upstairs. Each floor looked nearly identical, save for the star engravings on the walls that changed slightly with each level. Finally, she reached the top floor. Here, layers of gauzy curtains billowed in the breeze, mist spilling through them like a dreamscape.

Zhao Mingzhu carefully parted the curtains and stepped inside—only to find a hot spring at the center. A mythical beast sculpture spouted water into a pool surrounded by ornate jade railings. The pool walls were paved with white marble, and the curtains were hooked with gold clasps inlaid with pearls, dazzling in the light. Steam rose gently from the warm water, curling like clouds and mist. It felt like stepping into a celestial paradise.

Then Zhao Mingzhu saw who was in the pool—and staggered back two steps. Who else could it be but Gu Qingheng?

He reclined against the edge of the spring, eyes closed, his long black hair fanned out across the water. His refined features were softened by the mist, ethereal and mesmerizing.

Zhao Mingzhu was about to sneak away unnoticed when a black-clad figure suddenly appeared behind Gu Qingheng, dagger raised to strike. She shouted instinctively: “Watch out!”

Then grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it.

The assassin flinched at her sudden appearance, dodged the vase, and missed his best chance to strike. He quickly sheathed the dagger and smashed through a window to escape.

Outside the pavilion, the sounds of weapons clashing rang out.

Zhao Mingzhu, still shaken, met Gu Qingheng’s gaze. “Good thing I spotted him in time. No need to thank me for saving your life, Your Highness.”

Just saying—life-saving favors deserve generous repayment.

Gu Qingheng looked at her calmly. “Why is the Crown Princess here?”

That stumped Zhao Mingzhu. She laughed awkwardly and said dryly: “Took a wrong turn. I didn’t know this was Your Highness’s private bathhouse.”

Seriously? A hot spring on the seventh floor? This was what royal privilege looked like.

Zhao Mingzhu felt a little bitter.

Gu Qingheng didn’t comment. Everyone at the academy knew what the Observatory Pavilion was. But he didn’t press further. Instead, he noticed her staring blankly at him and beckoned. “Crown Princess, come here.”

If someone had asked Zhao Mingzhu what she was thinking at that moment, she’d have said: Hot. A heat was rising inside her—tingly, itchy, and growing stronger. Especially as she got closer to Gu Qingheng, the heat intensified. She shook her head. Shameless! Lusting after someone’s body—how low!

But when she crouched in front of him, all those thoughts vanished. She stared dumbly and said, “You smell so good.”

As if possessed, she reached out to touch his face—just as Chang He walked in and saw everything. Why is she here?

He hesitated to speak, but one glance from Gu Qingheng told him to leave it alone.

Once Chang He left, Zhao Mingzhu got her wish. She touched his face—it was soft, fragrant, and oddly comforting. She giggled.

Gu Qingheng leaned back slightly, his voice low and magnetic. “Who are you?”

Zhao Mingzhu’s mind was a blur, but she still remembered her name. “Zhao Mingzhu.”

But clearly, that wasn’t the answer Gu Qingheng wanted. He leaned in closer, like a siren from the deep, a flash of wicked charm crossing his face.

“Which Zhao Mingzhu are you?”