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Chapter 11: “I’ll Kiss You Back. Or, I’ll Let You…”

The moonlight was dim. In the courtyard, the artificial rockery and pool were still as a mirror, until the shadow of a crane swept past, shattering the illusion of tranquility and causing gentle ripples to spread.

Juchen brought over a purple floral stool and sat beside his desk, eyes focused on a series of financial records. Her delicate fingers danced across the abacus—utterly absorbed in her task.

By contrast, the man beside her—who had announced publicly that he planned to burn the midnight oil—was holding a scroll, but his gaze kept drifting toward her fingertips, clearly distracted.

He had finished his official documents much earlier. The “account-checking” was just an excuse to bring her over.

But seeing her so focused now, he dared not interrupt and seem tactless.

This was a rare opportunity. Juchen certainly wanted to show him that she was more than just a pretty face—that she had many talents, such as accounting.

Yet Song Mi didn’t seem to care.

Or so it seemed—because when she handed him the completed reports, he gave her high praise.

“For a young woman not yet twenty to organize the court’s finances this neatly… you’re already better than half the Ministry of Revenue,” Song Mi said with a slight smile. “When spring comes, I’ll take this to the Ministry just to shame them a little—maybe then they’ll start to feel some pressure.”

Naturally, Juchen was pleased by the praise, her face warming with blush.

She collected the papers and set them aside. When she looked up, she found herself locked in his deep gaze. Embarrassed, she turned to look out the window.

Song Mi raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze. Outside, snow was falling again—soft white flakes drifting in the night.

It had snowed unusually often this year.

Juchen, seemingly reminded of something, turned back. Her flushed cheeks had regained their usual fairness, and she used this opportunity—having helped him with the accounts—to make a small request.

She asked him to let her assist with some Ministry work, using the Empress Dowager’s wish for them to “learn more” as her reason.

At the end of the year, the Empress Dowager had announced new responsibilities for female officials. Most concerned internal affairs, but the final one allowed them to assist with the Six Ministries.

Juchen later realized this was the Empress Dowager’s way of opening the first crack in the door—allowing women into politics.

But right now, no one in the court cared.

Nervous that Song Mi would reject her outright, Juchen had already prepared a long list of arguments.

Song Mi glanced at her, then at the reports she had prepared. His lips curled. “You want something from me? There has to be compensation.”

Juchen, surprised but delighted that he didn’t immediately refuse, asked, “How much?”

Then she hesitated—Song Mi had always been incorruptible. Back when they were political rivals, she’d tried to dig up dirt on him constantly but found nothing.

Now, was he asking for compensation because he didn’t want to say no directly?

Song Mi asked, “What do you think it’s worth?”

Juchen held up a finger shyly. “This much.”

Song Mi raised a brow. “Five thousand taels?”

Juchen coughed. “Fifty taels.”

A short laugh escaped Song Mi’s nose.

Her cheeks flushed crimson. She resorted to heartfelt persuasion, explaining that she wasn’t doing this for personal gain. Everyone knew the Empress Dowager took the empire’s finances seriously, and with Song Mi in charge, there was no “grease” to skim from that department anyway.

“I just want to learn and help out. I think this ministry builds character. If you delegate some work to me, I guarantee it’ll lighten your staff’s load.”

Song Mi made a thoughtful noise, clearly agreeing. “Still, in my rulebook, anyone who asks me for something has to pay a price.”

“I’ll gather the money then. I don’t have much, but I’ve got rich friends,” Juchen offered.

“You planning to give me an IOU?” he asked.

“I’ll pay it off soon,” she promised earnestly.

Song Mi remained unmoved. “You’ll have to put up some collateral. Otherwise, how do I know you won’t skip out on your debt?”

Juchen drew a sharp breath. “What do you want?”

Without warning, Song Mi leaned in and kissed her.

“This… can serve as collateral for now,” he said.

Immediately, her face turned crimson, as if red ink had spilled across clear water—blush spreading all the way down her neck. She began to suspect he’d been playing her the whole time.

He was always this infuriating.

But now that his infuriating nature came wrapped in affection, she couldn’t tell if her heart was pounding from anger or love—her whole face flushed red.

She took a deep breath and asked, “If I raise the funds later, how will you return my collateral?”

Song Mi pretended to think seriously. “I’ll kiss you back. Or, I’ll let you kiss me.”

Juchen: “…”

Stunned speechless, Juchen stared at him for a moment—then suddenly leaned in and kissed him back. Fiercely.

So fierce it left Song Mi dumbstruck.

As he blinked in surprise, she smiled smugly.

The next moment, Song Mi narrowed his eyes, grabbed her by the wrist, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the desk—starting to undo her clothes.

Caught off guard, Juchen quickly shut her eyes. But the anticipated follow-through didn’t come.

Time seemed to freeze. She peeked through one eye—and saw him standing there with a robe in hand.

It was a green silk robe with curved lapels.

“Put this on,” he said with a half-smile. “I’m taking you out.”

Juchen: “…”

---

That night, all the lights in the residence had gone out.

Li Wanyu suddenly showed up outside Juchen’s room.

Inside, the maid Mingluan heard the knocking. She quickly drew the bed curtains and pretended to be drowsy as she opened the door.

“Second Miss?” she yawned. “It’s late. Is something wrong?”

Li Wanyu cleared her throat haughtily. “Has big sister returned?”

She peered inside and saw the bed curtains faintly rising over a small lump.

Mingluan stepped in front of her and raised a finger to her lips. “Big Miss has already gone to sleep.”

Li Wanyu relaxed, clenched her sleeves, and asked, “Did she say what she talked about with Prince Song?”

“How would I know that?”

“You two are like sisters. You must know.”

Mingluan scratched her head and grinned foolishly. “Something about the Ministry of Revenue… even if she told me, I wouldn’t understand.”

“No other topics?”

“What would Second Miss hope for?” Mingluan asked innocently.

“I hope…” I hope nothing happened.

Li Wanyu bit her lip, unsure how else to probe.

Just then, snow began falling again.

Mingluan feigned concern and ushered her back to her own room to avoid the cold.

Once she’d finally seen her off, Mingluan sighed with relief.

She opened the bed covers to find—another quilt hidden inside.

Mingluan frowned.

“Who knows where my lady went with that wild man to ‘check accounts’…”

---

At the summit of Mount Li stood the Huaqing Palace—an imperial sanctuary accessible only to the royal bloodline.

Juchen had heard of it but never visited.

In her past life, she could’ve gone. She could’ve crossed into the inner court—but never did.

Now, twelve palace maids lined the path, lanterns in hand.

Apparently on a whim, Song Mi had ordered the gates of Huaqing Palace opened.

Behind him followed a eunuch servant. When the others had all withdrawn, the servant peeked out—it was a strikingly handsome young man with delicate features.

In his dream the night before, Song Mi had seen Juchen dressed as a man—she’d slipped into male attire so naturally, her every movement convincing.

This time too, no one noticed anything amiss.

Finally, he asked, “How did you learn to do this?”

Juchen adjusted the wings of her official hat and grinned like a bright moon. “When I was little, my mother really wanted a son. I learned to dress like a boy to make her happy.”

She paused, smile fading. “But… she wasn’t happy.”

A moment of silence.

Then she shook off the mood with a smile and looked around. The palace was stunning—cloud-shrouded and golden, like a place of the gods.

She gawked at the enormous luminous pearl lighting the wall—nearly the size of her head. “Your family is really rich,” she joked.

But Song Mi’s gaze remained fixed on her.

He suddenly reached out and patted her head.

“I shouldn’t have let you wear this.”

In last night’s dream, her disguise had saved his life during a mission.

They’d both nearly died, but even after, they were still bickering as usual.

He owed her a thank you.

But he realized too late that “thank you”—like “I love you”—has an expiration date.

He had brought her here to soak in the hot springs, to make up for what she missed in her past life—a long-overdue gesture.

Of course, part of it was also selfish. He’d liked how she looked in the dream and wanted to see it again.

Now, though, he felt regret.

Juchen blinked. “But my disguise worked. No one noticed.”

Song Mi smiled. “Yes, it worked very well.”

Juchen caught him staring. She returned his gaze—only to turn beet red.

With a soft laugh, he scooped her into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, thinking he was about to do something else…

But he only undressed her down to a thin underrobe, then placed her in the hot spring.

“This spring drives away cold. Your hands and feet are always cold—stay in longer,” he said.

Juchen blinked, then obediently slipped into the water.

At first, Song Mi had truly meant nothing by it.

But once she was in the water, her figure became clearly visible under the wet silk.

He regretted leaving her even that much to wear.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again…