Chapter 12

“If Your Highness can’t even agree to this,” Zhao Mingzhu dabbed the corner of her eye with a handkerchief, “then that’s just too heartbreaking.”

Gu Qingheng looked at her and suddenly smiled. “I can.”

Zhao Mingzhu peeked through her fingers, confirming again, “No matter when, where, or why—if I cause a catastrophe, Your Highness will step in to save my life?”

Gu Qingheng nodded.

The surprise came too easily. She’d expected to haggle a bit, but he agreed just like that.

Zhao Mingzhu exhaled deeply, a sense of security blooming in her chest. Without missing a beat, she pulled out a prepared document from her sleeve. Verbal promises? Not reliable. It had to be in writing. She eagerly ground the ink. “Then I’ll trouble Your Highness to sign your name and stamp it.”

As expected, once he agreed, Gu Qingheng was fully cooperative.

Zhao Mingzhu beamed at the signature and seal, grinning from ear to ear. This was her true goal today. Minimal effort, maximum gain score.

Now that the deal was sealed, Zhao Mingzhu knew it was time to leave. She closed the food box, put on a benevolent smile, and her fondness for the man before her shot up like a rocket. “Then enjoy your snack, Your Highness. I’ll leave you to your work.”

Outside, Chang He heard footsteps and turned toward the sound, then quickly looked away, inwardly scoffing at her outrageous demands. And yet His Highness actually agreed to them.

As Zhao Mingzhu passed him, she suddenly turned back with a wicked grin. “If you keep badmouthing me in your head, I’ll come for you next time.”

Chang He returned to his blank expression. “Safe travels, Crown Princess.”

After she left, a white dove circled down and landed on his arm. He removed the message tied to its leg and brought it into the study, presenting it to Gu Qingheng. He spoke with indignation. “Why did Your Highness agree to her? She just bought knockout powder strong enough to fell a bull—clearly preparing for a backup plan if her scheme fails.”

Zhao Mingzhu’s foolishness used to be out in the open. Now she was learning to hedge her bets.

And as Changhe looked at Gu Qingheng, words caught in his throat. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was some kind of seductive troublemaker, a fox spirit sent to confuse the crown prince.

Gu Qingheng glanced at the letter, his tone unchanged. “Just sparing a life.”

Chang He was about to protest again, but then it hit him—there were plenty of punishments in the Eastern Palace dungeons that could keep someone alive and make them wish they weren’t.

Meanwhile, elsewhere—

Qiao’er was in the courtyard when she saw two maidservants approaching. They curtsied to her.

“Greetings, Sister Qiao’er.”

Qiao’er waved her hand. “And you are?”

Ever since her young mistress married into the palace, there hadn’t been anyone in the main hall besides the outer cleaning maids—and even those were clueless about everything, clearly not favored.

Qiao’er had expected her mistress to kick up a fuss about it, but surprisingly, she accepted the situation quite quickly.

The personalities of the two maids were immediately apparent. The lively one spoke first: “I’m Jin Zhu, and she’s Yin Zhu. The Crown Princess bestowed both names.”

Jin Zhu, Yin Zhu, Ming Zhu—just hearing them sounded auspicious and wealthy.

Yin Zhu nodded gently. “His Highness assigned us to serve the Crown Princess.”

Just then, Zhao Mingzhu returned. Qiao’er hurried over and asked if she’d gotten everything she asked for. Zhao Mingzhu lifted the food box with a sigh. “Let me sleep with an extra pillow under my head tonight.”

Qiao’er couldn’t help but snicker. She’d said those demands were way too outrageous. Forget the rest—just asking for ten boxes of property deeds in the capital was already bold beyond belief.

But Zhao Mingzhu, having secured her life-saving promise, was in high spirits. She dragged a lounge chair under the pomegranate tree and settled in for a nap.

It was early spring, the leaves lush and green, with the occasional glimpse of crimson peeking through. Qiao’er, Jin Zhu, and Yin Zhu sat under the veranda playing leaf cards.

Jin Zhu asked, “Aren’t we supposed to be attending to the lady? Won’t she be upset?”

Yin Zhu echoed, “Won’t she be upset?”

Qiao’er played a card without even looking up. “Don’t worry. She won’t.”

The old version of her mistress was far harder to serve. The current one—though sometimes hard to figure out—was surprisingly easy to get along with.

Meanwhile, in Zhao Mingzhu’s dream. She stood at her office workstation, looking dazed, glancing down at her work uniform. Ah, yes. She remembered now—those days of being a corporate workhorse.

She turned, ready to storm off and settle scores with her stingy boss, but a coworker grabbed her. “You’re still here?”

“I haven’t gotten my paycheck. I’m going to confront him.” Zhao Mingzhu rolled up her sleeves, determined to raise hell.

“Aiya, don’t bother. Last week, he got stabbed over unpaid wages, then got hit by a car and flung two miles. The doctor said he’s paralyzed from the neck down. His wife, kids, and even the dog left him.”

Zhao Mingzhu was thrilled. She was just about to ask for more juicy details, but the scene shifted abruptly. She was now wearing her palace gown, standing in an unfamiliar hall. Where was this?

She called out a tentative “Hello?” but no one answered. Suddenly, someone grabbed her wrist—the icy touch made her spin around in fright.

“You’ve come to keep me company?”

That word—”me”—Zhao Mingzhu instantly knew who he was.

“Yes,” she said, “I’m here to keep you company.”

She rubbed her hands together, scheming. “Your Highness, don’t you remember? I even held you when you were little.”

Oh heavens! He was too adorable. Young Gu Qingheng was pale and soft, with curved brows and eyes like shattered starlight—like a celestial child descended from the heavens.

Little Gu Qingheng tilted his head, puzzled. “Then why don’t I remember?”

Zhao Mingzhu took his hand and began spinning her tale. “I was your sworn godmother when you were still in swaddling clothes. But villains forced me into hiding, so I never got the chance to see you. Qingheng, if you’re willing to recognize me, call me ‘Mother.’ Even if you’re not, I will understand.”

She clutched her handkerchief and sniffled, but when she peeked at him, she caught a flicker of “Is she serious?” in his eyes.

Zhao Mingzhu sighed. Even the big bad villain turned small wasn’t easy to fool.

Gu Qingheng led her to the table with a sweet smile. “Since you’ve come to keep me company, I won’t let you go hungry. Have this bowl of sugar-steamed yogurt.”

Zhao Mingzhu was touched. At least he had a conscience.

The jade bowl was filled with snowy, delicate yogurt, topped with glistening crushed ice and a dollop of fragrant red bean paste. She scooped up a spoonful and casually asked, “Is that hawthorn jam in the ice?”

It was bright red and looked quite pretty.

Gu Qingheng rested his chin on his hand. “It’s human blood. They’ve been slacking lately and didn’t process it properly.”

Zhao Mingzhu froze. Human blood?!

She stared at the spoon, then at the sticky red bits in the ice. The faint metallic scent made her scalp tingle—she wanted to fling the bowl two miles away.

Gu Qingheng tilted his head, looking innocent. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Who brought you this yogurt?” Zhao Mingzhu asked, suppressing her nausea.

There had never been mention of Gu Qingheng’s childhood in the plot. But he was the crown prince—noble and exalted. Who would dare treat him like this?

Gu Qingheng looked disappointed that she wouldn’t eat, then said something even more chilling. “Today’s batch came from my mother’s brain matter. If you don’t eat it, you won’t be able to leave.”

Then he calmly picked up his spoon and ate, one slow bite after another—his movements graceful but disturbingly numb and cruel.

Zhao Mingzhu would never forget that scene for the rest of her life.