Chapter 21: Clearly, You Were the One Who Ignored Me

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The attic was silent.

Yuan Zheng was the first to break the silence. On behalf of Ju Chen, he spoke up with a calming smile:
“Your Highness, the reason she didn’t… is because you weren’t actually our classmate. If I recall correctly, you only stayed at the Princess’s Manor for a couple of months during the summer.”

Song Mi said flatly, “Lu Feng wasn’t your classmate either. He stayed even less time than I did.”

Yuan Zheng forced his smile, “Second Young Master Lu is just naturally friendly—you know how he is…”

Song Mi raised an eyebrow, “So what? Just because he talks more than I do, I deserve to be treated differently?”

He seemed to be joking, but the coldness in his tone and the icy air around him made it clear he wasn’t giving anyone room to argue. He was waiting for a certain someone to speak up herself.

Yuan Zheng was completely stumped. He glanced apologetically at Ju Chen.
I tried. You’re on your own now…

Ju Chen had no choice but to muster up the courage. She stood and admitted,
“It’s my fault. I forgot.”

She offered a proper courtesy, formal and distant, as if she were addressing a stranger. Yet, she couldn’t help trying to explain:
“Though we once lived under the same roof, Your Highness was like snow atop a high mountain, or the moon in the sky. I dared not overstep.”

Everyone present shared similar feelings; they understood why she acted so reserved around him.

But Song Mi said coolly, “You were the one who avoided me.”

If he remembered correctly, back when they stayed at the Princess’s Manor, she would hide the moment she saw him—as if he were cursed.

His words were blunt and accusatory. Though Ju Chen felt cornered, she clenched her lips, gripping the hem of her clothes tightly, her ears gradually turning red.

The tension between them thickened, until the awkward silence was broken by Xuyang, who let out a quiet chuckle.

She looked at Ju Chen and said, “That’s not what you said back then.”

Ju Chen was caught off guard. “What?”

Xuyang turned to Song Mi with a grin.
“I remember asking her what she thought of you. Her answer was—‘An idle fisherman with nothing better to do.’”

Ju Chen: “…”

A short pause—and then the room burst into laughter. Everyone was teasing her for being so bold.

Ju Chen shot a resentful look at Xuyang. She couldn’t decide whether to thank her or bury her for throwing dirt over her not-quite-dead reputation. Finally, she sighed and admitted,
“Well, he was fishing the entire summer!”

All she did was speak the blunt truth that no one else dared to say.

Everyone subtly glanced at Song Mi. Surprisingly, the cold look on his face faded. His mood seemed to lift, and he didn’t deny it:
“I was fishing.”

Ju Chen raised her chin: “See?”

Yuan Zheng asked curiously, “But how do you know he fished all summer?”

Clearly, these two were in sync. Ju Chen wasn’t even sure which side Yuan Zheng was on anymore.

To everyone’s surprise, Song Mi answered first on her behalf:
“She spent the whole summer reading near the pavilion by the water.”

Ju Chen’s eyes widened.
He actually remembers me from back then?!

Yuan Zheng laughed in disbelief, “Reading? Seriously?”

Ju Chen swallowed nervously. “Why not?”

“I don’t believe it,” Yuan Zheng squinted at her.
Back then, Ju Chen relied on him to help her skip class, smuggle cheat sheets, and stitch knee pads for her punishments. He had to light incense in thanks every time she managed to study for real.

Ju Chen blushed and tried to sound firm, “Believe what you want.”

Yuan Zheng smirked, clearly wanting to call her out again. But before he could, Ju Chen handed him a piece of dessert.
“Here—your favorite, dragon’s beard candy.”

She shoved it straight into his mouth, successfully silencing him.

Yuan Zheng had no choice but to chew, his eyes softening with reluctant affection.

Song Mi took in the whole interaction. Watching their casual closeness, his fingers tightened slightly around his teacup.

Lin Zong, ever observant, noticed the pale hue at Song Mi’s fingertips. He quickly cut in to divert Ju Chen’s attention:
“Chen-meimei, do you still work with ceramics?”

Ju Chen hesitated, then replied, “Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

She paused before shrugging with a smile:
“My mother doesn’t like it. She thinks it’s a waste of time.”

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As night deepened, the rustling of summer insects rose from the bushes near the pavilion.

Xuyang, reluctant to end the rare reunion, glanced out the window and suggested a game.

Since she disliked having attendants around during gatherings, the attic had no servants. She suggested a game of “touhu” (pitch-pot). Everyone went along with the birthday girl’s wish and moved the tables to form a circle, leaving space in the middle.

However, the game set wasn’t in the attic.

Xuyang was directing the table setup when she noticed Ju Chen was free. She called out:
“Ah Chen, the double-eared pot is still in the usual spot. Go grab it!”

Then she remembered the pot was made of bronze and a bit heavy, so she told Yuan Zheng to help her.

Yuan Zheng, having already been bossed around moving tables, snorted:
“I can’t be in two places at once!”

Lu Feng, helping move stools, glanced around and laughed:
“Isn’t there another free pair of hands right there?”

Xuyang didn’t dare order Song Mi around.

Song Mi folded his hands together, then turned to Ju Chen. “Let’s go.”

Ju Chen: “…”

Yuan Zheng looked up, recalling the tension earlier. He was worried:
“Your Highness, Ah Chen probably can’t help much…”

He meant: it’s just a bronze pot. A man alone can handle it; no need to drag her into it.

The logic made sense—but Song Mi’s cold little smile said otherwise.
He replied coolly: “But I don’t know the way.”

He rarely used the title “this prince” or leaned on his status, but this time each word came out clipped and cold, clearly showing his displeasure.

Yuan Zheng remained clueless and continued:
“Then wait until I finish moving this—”

Before he could finish, Song Mi simply turned and dragged Ju Chen away:
“I’ll trouble you to lead the way.”

Yuan Zheng watched them disappear and silently lit a candle for Ju Chen in his heart.
Surely the noble Lord Pengshan wouldn’t take revenge over an unrequited crush… right?

Once outside, Ju Chen deliberately walked faster, carefully guiding the way. But after turning a corner, Song Mi had caught up, walking nearly shoulder to shoulder with her.

Feeling his gaze, Ju Chen quickly looked away.

Song Mi called out: “Lord Li.”

His deep voice had that usual calm edge.

Ju Chen stiffened completely. After a pause, she replied as casually as possible,
“What is it?”

He looked at her, the corner of his lips lifting.
“I know our relationship isn’t exactly pure, but avoiding me like this only makes things seem worse.”

Ju Chen stared at him under the night sky. His eyes were like cold stars.
Was he warning her not to draw suspicion by acting too obvious?

Her eyes darkened slightly. She forced a smile.
“Did I?”

“You did.”

“But we’re not close.”

“Still, not looking at me once all night is overkill,” Song Mi said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not that unpleasant to look at, am I? Compared to Yuan the Prince Consort, I’m a bit fairer—easier to see in the dark.”

Ju Chen couldn’t explain her awkward behavior. So she latched onto his words:
“He’s tanned from years at war…”

“I know.” Song Mi cut her off sharply. Hearing her defend Yuan Zheng made something sour bubble in his chest.

He never cared for comparisons—but her quick defense stung.

After calming herself, Ju Chen looked up and explained:
“I just thought acting too familiar would draw more suspicion. And besides, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t talk to you.”

Song Mi stared at her clear eyes for a while, then said lightly,
“That’s fair.”

Ju Chen breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Then Song Mi added, “That night…”

Ju Chen steeled herself and looked up. But he paused, lips parted—then fell silent.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask why she hadn’t come that night.

He wasn’t sure if her absence meant she was ending things without a word.

He wanted to ask—but strangely, he hesitated.

Seeing her questioning gaze, he chuckled self-deprecatingly and murmured,
“It’s nothing.”

---

Inside the west wing room, Song Mi asked where the pot was. Ju Chen pointed it out.

As he moved toward it, she searched for the feathered arrows needed for the game. They weren’t in the cabinet. Glancing around, she found them on the top shelf.

She stood on tiptoe but couldn’t reach. Glancing back, she saw Song Mi still bent over the pot.

She went to get a stool, stood on it, and reached up.

When Song Mi turned around, he found her standing precariously on the decorative cushion. Without a word, he set the pot down and moved to steady her by the waist.

His warm hands pressed gently against her thin waist. Ju Chen’s heart pounded, her body trembling slightly from the contact, causing her to lose balance.

She slipped—and he caught her.

Falling into his arms, her eyes landed on his chest. His scent—clean, noble, and familiar—wrapped around her. She couldn’t help but look up at him.

Her heartbeat was deafening.

She couldn’t help recalling his words:
“When the time comes, we’ll cut things off cleanly.”

She could see the gentleness in his eyes—but that only made her heart ache more. If this wasn’t the “right time,” then this waiting was worse than a clean end.

Ju Chen looked down and murmured,
“Thank you.”

Her voice was dull, her gaze dim.

To Song Mi, her expression looked like disappointment—like she regretted it was him who had caught her.

He pursed his lips.
“Even if he didn’t come help you, you don’t need to look this heartbroken.”

Ju Chen was dazed. “Hmm?”

Seeing her pretend not to understand, Song Mi sneered and set her down without another word.