Chapter 22

Zhao Mingzhu stepped into the Eastern Palace, deciding to play dumb. If anyone asked tomorrow, she’d just say Gu Yu forgot to pass on the message. After all, there was no paper trail. She walked up to knock on the door—only to find Chang He opening it.

Zhao Mingzhu blinked in surprise. “You’re on door duty now? Got demoted for messing up?”

Chang He said nothing, simply waited for her to enter, then shut the door and lifted a lantern. “Crown Princess, this way.”

Zhao Mingzhu fell silent. So this was a setup.

Chang He always kept a polite distance from her. No matter what she asked, he’d reply with a blank “I don’t know.”

Getting nothing useful out of him, Zhao Mingzhu began to worry. Had she done something wrong since arriving in this world? Left behind any incriminating evidence? No.

Could it be the original host had laid some traps she didn’t know about?

Lost in thought, she followed Chang He to the study. He stopped and gestured for her to enter.

Zhao Mingzhu’s face instantly took on the look of a martyr marching to her doom.

Chang He: …

Creak.

She pushed the door open cautiously, then tiptoed behind the screen and peeked inside—only to lock eyes with Gu Qingheng, seated at his desk.

Zhao Mingzhu instantly switched to a friendly smile. “Your Highness, may I ask why you summoned me?”

Gu Qingheng didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in her eyes when she saw it was him. “Crown Princess, the Imperial Tutor came to see me today. He said the three of you skipped class together.”

Zhao Mingzhu was relieved—it was just about truancy. She walked over and sat down. She declared righteously, “Your Highness, I swear I’ll never let the Princess talk me into skipping again. From now on, I’ll tie my hair to the beam and stab my thigh with a needle—study with utmost diligence.”

Her skin was already fair, and now she wore a pomegranate-red pleated skirt embroidered with gold and green. Under the soft glow of the glass lamp, she looked even more delicate and lively. She swung her legs absentmindedly, the hem of her skirt fluttering like a butterfly in flight.

Gu Qingheng suddenly asked, “Was the Shangsi Festival lively?”

Zhao Mingzhu had expected him to bring up the truancy incident, but instead, he shifted the topic to whether the festival had been bustling. She nodded belatedly. “It was lively. Lots of people, and the fireworks were beautiful.”

“Were you happy?”

She nodded again, her smile bright and sincere. “Very happy.”

Zhao Mingzhu couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Gu Qingheng. While everyone else was out enjoying the festivities, he was stuck in his study, surrounded only by endless paperwork and lamplight.

Thinking of that, she added, “Don’t worry, Your Highness. We didn’t forget you. When I lit a river lantern, I made a wish on your behalf—for peace, smooth days, and success in all things.”

There were so many lanterns, she’d practically blessed everyone she’d ever known across lifetimes. And of course, she hadn’t forgotten the ones she disliked. May they rot, stink, and be remembered in infamy forever!

Gu Qingheng saw her smile and slowly looked away. “Don’t think you can flatter me and expect something in return.”

Zhao Mingzhu choked on her words. So unfair—this time she genuinely hadn’t meant anything by it.

“When you go out in the future, make sure someone reports your return. Otherwise, Chang He and the others might think the Crown Princess has been kidnapped without realizing it.”

That was an oversight on her part. She nodded obediently. Then came the blow that made her want to cry.

“From now on, you must return no later than dusk.” That was the new curfew.

Zhao Mingzhu forced a smile. “Your Highness, isn’t that a bit early?”

Back by seven? What if there was another festival? She’d have to leave just when things got exciting.

What a bitter pill.

Gu Qingheng opened a new document and replied, “It’s not early. Dinner, study, grooming, then sleep—it’s just right.”

Zhao Mingzhu, now fully scheduled like a production line, felt dazed and defeated. She tried to protest, but Gu Qingheng pointed to the hourglass. “Crown Princess, it’s time to sleep.”

No room for negotiation.

Zhao Mingzhu turned and trudged back to her quarters, on the verge of tears. Chang He watched her go with a smug little hum—clearly, she hadn’t thought about the consequences while she was out having fun.

An hour later, Zhao Mingzhu returned. She pushed the door open without ceremony, and Chang He quietly looked away.

The Book of Songs had over thirty thousand characters—how long would it take her to copy it all by herself? Clearly, she wasn’t sleeping tonight.

“Your Highness, may I borrow Chang He? Qiao’er and the others don’t know how to write.” She explained the punishment for skipping class. “See? I was coerced! It’s all Gu Yu’s fault—she insisted we go with her!”

Then she offered a jade turtle, casually swiped from An Yun. She didn’t feel the slightest pang giving it away. “This is Chang He’s wage for the night. Please accept it with a smile.”

Gu Qingheng took the green turtle and tossed it into a pearl bowl without comment. Zhao Mingzhu took that as tacit approval and cheerfully turned to fetch Chan He.

You little rascal, always scheming and teasing me—today’s karma has finally caught up!

But she’d barely taken two steps when a voice called from behind: “Come here.”

Gu Qingheng opened the Book of Songs and asked where she’d left off. Zhao Mingzhu, confused, pointed to the spot with her fingertip.

He clipped the page in place and looked up. “Didn’t you want someone to help you copy? Or is it that the Crown Princess insists on Chang He alone?”

Was this a buy-one-get-one-free deal? A shockingly low price!

Zhao Mingzhu immediately shook her head and launched into a flurry of flattery, “Your Highness, you’re truly beautiful inside and out—kind, generous, magnanimous, full of compassion. I must’ve saved the world in my past life to be lucky enough to marry you. I’ll go home and burn a whole cart of paper offerings to thank my ancestors for their virtue!”

Gu Qingheng paused mid-stroke. “Silence.”

Zhao Mingzhu obeyed instantly. “Yes, sir.”

Soon, Chang He brought over a suitable chair. Zhao Mingzhu stretched, then got to work, burying her head in the task. But somewhere in the haze, she felt like she’d forgotten something.

What was it again? Oh well—she’d remember eventually.

—

Meanwhile, Su Lu sat at her vanity, replaying the image of Zhao Mingzhu walking side by side with the other two. She recalled what the maid had said earlier—Zhao Mingzhu had stepped down from the Crown Prince’s carriage.

That was the carriage Gu Qingheng always used. Did he really bear no grudge against Zhao Mingzhu for scheming against him? He even let her ride with him!

The more Su Lu thought about it, the more suffocated she felt. Her bruised face still ached, and then there was An Yun. Su Lu couldn’t understand why she kept chasing her. She truly didn’t like Bai Mu; otherwise, she’d have claimed him long ago.

Staring into the bronze mirror, Su Lu muttered bitterly, “It’s all Zhao Mingzhu’s fault. If she hadn’t tricked her way into marrying the Crown Prince, I might’ve been Crown Princess by now. I wouldn’t be caught in this mess between An Yun and Bai Mu.”

She had once helped Gu Qingheng. With that advantage, they’d always gotten along well. Add her family’s influence, and she was sure she wouldn’t have missed out on the Crown Princess title.

It was all Zhao Mingzhu!

She couldn’t just sit and wait anymore. If Zhao Mingzhu could use every trick in the book, why couldn’t she?

But then doubt crept in. She was a kind person—if she gave in to such dark thoughts, wouldn’t she be sinking to Zhao Mingzhu’s level?

She shook her head fiercely. She was nothing like Zhao Mingzhu—vile, shameless, and low.