The night wind was thin and cold, the moonlight faint.
Swaying tree shadows followed the moonlight and fell along the window ledge, like ferocious beasts.
Cui Yiyu sat silently leaning against a slender, short branch by the main room’s window, like an owl perched in the night, enveloped by darkness.
That tree was neither tall nor sturdy, merely an ordinary decorative tree; no one would ever imagine that someone could be hidden upon it.
Cui Yiyu quietly watched the shadow by the window ledge.
Warm lamplight enveloped the girl’s slender figure; even the shadow she cast upon the ground appeared especially frail.
The soft voices of conversation drifting from inside the room were faint, yet each word fell with utmost clarity into his ears, reminding him of the reality that the Crown Prince would come tonight to favor the Crown Princess.
Inside, where silver charcoal burned, it was warm as spring, shutting out the bone-cutting “whooshing” night wind outside the window, and also letting his heart slowly return to its original temperature.
It should be so.
Cui Yiyu’s gaze slowly shifted from the shadow on the ground to the girl herself, yet the moment it touched her face, he moved it away as if burned, and in that evasiveness, a trace of discomposure showed.
Very few knew what exactly had happened during the body inspection in the side hall at the banquet.
In front of the imperial physician, the prince removed his garments, revealing his body, but under such circumstances it was truly difficult to stir. The Second Prince had intended to summon two palace maids to “add some excitement,” yet was met with Cui Yiyu’s unhesitating refusal. The Second Prince mocked him for putting on airs, and only then ordered Eunuch Li to fetch two bowls of deer blood.
Even after drinking deer blood, the effects could not come immediately; the banquet was still waiting, so there could be no delay.
Seeing this, the Second Prince jested on the surface but mocked in truth: the Crown Prince had clearly already been with women, with several concubines, yet still acted like this, like a fledgling who had never known a woman. He even said that the Crown Princess was right outside—if needed, he could let her come lend a hand.
Cui Yiyu should have remained undistracted, still as a calm lake.
Yet when that person casually and frivolously mentioned the Crown Princess by his ear, he felt as if scorched over burning stones—both his neck and the hand he held grew hot.
For a moment, he was at a loss. Then an overwhelming surge of disbelief rose, an inconceivable shame flooding his mind, carrying with it a desire that should not exist, rushing down along his spine. It was as though he had been struck with sudden enlightenment, abruptly invaded by desires that did not belong to him, stirring his body and mind into unrest.
Irreverent, fearless, shameless.
That was the Crown Princess, not his Crown Princess.
Those simple words bent his spine, like a sheet of clean white paper suddenly stained with ambiguous colors. Not only did the veins at his neck swell faintly, even his eye rims were dyed crimson, like being smeared with poisonous cinnabar.
The chaos of emotions surged; he was like a ferocious beast bound by heavy chains, not knowing where to begin breaking free.
He was merely a tool—how could he defy the world and harbor thoughts of betraying his master, dare to form such rebellious and improper desires toward the Crown Princess?
The gentlemanly conduct and teachings he had learned following the Crown Prince warned him that this was disrespectful and disloyal, yet just as a sense of shame rose within him, Cui Yiyu immediately realized he should not possess human emotions.
A tool—what right did it have to desire or to feel shame?
His mind went blank. A sudden emptiness appeared upon his pale face. The mocking words by his ear, the gaze of the imperial physician—all faded before his eyes. Amid the boundless chaos, the girl’s figure suddenly appeared before him.
She had cried for help in the mud beneath the cliff, gasped for breath on his back, leaned on him as she took revenge, wore a well-behaved smile while pretending not to notice him, carefully reached out her hand toward him, tears falling as she said he was not an object…
She was saying she liked him.
Not to the Crown Prince, but to him—a negligible substitute shadow guard.
Cui Yiyu’s breath hitched. His pitch-black eyes lost focus. Having just drunk deer blood, his body already surging with blood and heat, trembled. An immense sense of moral transgression pierced through his heart and lungs, leaving him wounded all over—and then, this body, uncontrollable for the first time, shamefully spilled forth amid the trembling.
He was completely thrown into chaos.
Pleasure he had never experienced in over a decade climbed over his lean body like creeping vines, trapping him in dense, tingling numbness with no escape.
Cui Yiyu struggled to regain his senses from the void, ignoring the Second Prince’s incredulous gaze, and slowly put his robes back on.
He could be filthy, but he should not let this thought that should not exist become entangled with the Crown Princess.
Yet upon returning to the banquet, his gaze had only just brushed Lin Yuanjin’s hair, not even reaching her smiling face, when Cui Yiyu, like a beast of the night suddenly encountering dawnlight, swiftly averted his eyes, afraid it would scorch his pupils.
He had a guilty conscience; he did not dare look.
The Crown Princess was innocent.
Thus, after returning to the residence, when he heard the Crown Prince’s explicit order for him to stand guard outside the window, Cui Yiyu accepted the command as if nothing were amiss.
How could Cui Yiyu not understand the Crown Prince’s warning for him to remain in his place?
Even if the Crown Prince regarded him as a tool, he would still use other means to warn him repeatedly. After all, no matter what, he was still a living person. This was to make him witness with his own eyes the consummation between the Crown Prince and his consort, to make him understand his position, and not entertain any other thoughts.
Fortunately, Cui Yiyu had only, under unavoidable circumstances, tasted the flavor of human desire for the first time; he had not committed a mistake, nor offended or implicated others.
He could still calm himself, set aside this rebellious memory, and let it fade until forgotten.
Cui Yiyu repeated this over and over in his heart. Under the wash of too many unfamiliar thoughts, his gaze struggled once more, inch by inch moving upward along her gauze-like golden skirt, until it reached her face.
The youth hid within shadows that must not see the light, quietly watching Lin Yuanjin—afraid that his gaze would profane her, yet unable to flee again so weakly, only lightly tracing the outline of her form.
Wait a little longer.
Let this forbidden dream of fleeting splendor drift away like smoke and clouds.
— . ୨ ♡ ୧ . —
The Crown Prince had not yet arrived.
Inside the room, Lin Yuanjin had already changed into thin garments and put on delicate makeup. The corners of her eyes lifted slightly, like a fine little hook; her soft lips were crimson, and a golden huadian [forehead ornament] rested between her brows.
Lin Yuanjin looked at herself in the mirror, lost in thought, repeatedly hypnotizing herself.
She should be content. Now she was the Crown Princess; no matter what, it was better than dying silently beneath the cliff. Even if her body would be violated, at least she would live in honor and luxury—it was still better than falling into a poor place and being manipulated in every way because of her appearance.
It was already good enough.
What more did she want?
Lin Yuanjin watched the incense candle by the mirror melt bit by bit. The sorrow and resistance in her heart grew by the moment. Even the fragrance became cloyingly sweet like never before; she had to control her breathing lest the uncontrollable nausea rise to her throat.
The Crown Prince coming to favor her was a reward—she must not feel sorrow.
Nanny Zhang smiled at her side, speaking of the Crown Prince’s youthful days. The maid beside them removed the now-cold pastries from the tea table and replaced them with fresh tea, her face likewise filled with anticipation for the Crown Prince’s imminent arrival.
Lin Yuanjin’s smile was numb and quiet.
At the very least, before others, she could not let even the slightest untimely sorrow show.
Lin Yuanjin wanted to pray that the Crown Prince was incapable, but since he dared to come, it meant the medicine he had taken must have had some effect. If that path would not work, she even wanted to pray that some concubine might overstep and intercept him.
Even if none of that worked, at least the Crown Prince’s face was good-looking.
She raised her hand, her slender fingers pressing against her cheek, only feeling its coldness.
“With such beauty, Crown Princess, why worry?” Nanny Zhang looked at the girl’s dazed expression and could not help but smile. “With the Crown Prince’s favor, he will surely give you an imperial grandson soon, so that you will have someone to rely on thereafter.”
Nanny Zhang meant well, yet Lin Yuanjin only felt the dizziness before her grow stronger.
How could she want to bear a child? In this ancient era where one could only give birth naturally, where mother and child could easily both die—and for a Crown Prince she did not care about in the slightest, stake her life?
Lin Yuanjin feigned idleness as she looked toward the green chrysanthemum by the window, trying to see, through this carefully tended flower, the person who had given it to her.
Even if he had sent it to her under the constraints of his identity as the Crown Prince’s man, under the Emperor’s watchful eyes, it was still the only thing Cui Yiyu had ever given her.
Once the Crown Prince arrived, she would move this pot of green chrysanthemum outside, somewhere out of sight of the window.
She would not see the chrysanthemum, and the chrysanthemum would not see her.
Lin Yuanjin’s eyes flickered. As if sensing something, her gaze passed through the hook-like petals and landed on the tree not far outside the window. Under the faint moonlight, a breeze stirred, leaves swaying slightly—there seemed to be a dark shadow obscuring part of the foliage.
Lin Yuanjin’s lips parted slightly. Her face suddenly turned pale, her whole body tensing. Her clear, bright gaze froze within the dense leaves, her throat seeming to be sealed by medicine, burning with pain.
It was as if her skin had been suddenly stripped away, leaving her exposed on the road, pierced by sunlight—disheveled and with nowhere to hide.
There was more than one shadow guard in the Crown Prince’s residence, but that nearly imperceptible youthful figure not far away—she had an inexplicable certainty it was the person she had in mind.
Why must it be like this? Why must it be this way?
Lin Yuanjin was already the Crown Princess. The people around her formed walls upon walls; she could not resist. With no other choice, she would obey.
“Crown Princess? What is it?” Nanny Zhang noticed something amiss in her expression and asked considerately, “Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
“…Nothing.” Lin Yuanjin withdrew her gaze in a daze, lowering her lashes quietly, like a puppet with its strings cut. Her fingers curled as if in spasms, trembling, and she could only answer softly by instinct, “It just feels… a bit late.”
She did not dare look at the mirror again, afraid that the moment she saw her own pitiful reflection, the emotions she had finally suppressed would break free.
Lin Yuanjin felt like a joke—at the banquet she had fought others to defend the Crown Prince’s reputation, yet upon returning to the residence, she became a plaything to be manipulated at will, forced to fawn over the Crown Prince’s self-satisfied “favor.”
She could roughly guess what the Crown Prince was thinking—nothing more than base instinct at work. Even if he believed the existence of a shadow guard was nothing to fear, he would still instinctively resent anyone touching or even gazing upon what he considered his possession. Only by arrogantly marking his claim before that person would he be satisfied.
