Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Essence of Green Tea

“Oh my, things are lively over here. Did I come at the wrong time?” Su Jingluo witnessed the scene without a hint of gossip in her heart; instead, a tinge of jealousy welled up within her.

Lin Feifei, standing nearby, was already unhappy. Seeing Su Jingluo arrive, she thought to herself that the timing was perfect—if anything, a little late.

“Sister, aren’t you going to release the Prince? The Princess has arrived,” Lin Feifei said, her displeasure growing as Su Jingluo appeared and Lin Wanwan still clung to Xiao Jingxuan.

“Forgive me, Princess, don’t blame the Prince. It’s only because of my face…” Lin Wanwan’s voice was heartbreakingly sorrowful, as she covered her face in distress but remained limp and nestled in Xiao Jingxuan’s arms.

“What am I to blame him for? And what about your face?” Su Jingluo watched her performance, neither happy nor sad, silently thinking: go ahead, you’re quite the actress. Let’s see how long you can keep it up.

“Don’t blame the Prince for being tender with me. I was the one who insisted on holding my cousin. I was just too frightened,” Lin Wanwan appeared weak and helpless, but every word was steeped in an air of cloying pretense.

Xiao Jingxuan tried to push Lin Wanwan away, but she clung to him like an octopus, refusing to let go.

“Well then, let Xiao Jingxuan dote on you. Maybe those boils on your face will vanish with his care. Since you have a fine doctor and miraculous medicine, I’ll take my leave.” Serves her right to be poisoned, Su Jingluo thought. Clearly, the true master of discerning fakes is my son, Xiao Yunbai—he did well with that poison.

“Su Jingluo, you’ve misunderstood me,” Xiao Jingxuan said, forcefully pushing Lin Wanwan away. She landed bonelessly against the table with a pitiful whimper, looking utterly forlorn.

Xiao Jingxuan glanced back, torn between concern—if he helped Lin Wanwan, Su Jingluo might be angrier; if he didn’t, his cousin seemed badly hurt.

“Little Luoluo, I think you and Xiao Jingxuan should talk things through. A man surrounded by beautiful confidantes day after day is hardly decent. If you ask me, you should divorce him,” Song Yunmo remarked. Though he hadn’t entered the room, everything inside was perfectly clear from the doorway.

“You needn’t worry. If you divorce, I’ll have an eight-carriage procession escort you to my house, and I’ll never take another concubine for the rest of my life,” Song Yunmo raised his right hand to swear, fearing Su Jingluo might hesitate.

Better to believe in ghosts than in a man’s promises. Besides, Song Yunmo was too prettily handsome, his words and actions always unconventional—clearly not a man to be trusted.

Su Jingluo shot Song Yunmo a glare, but before she could reply, Xiao Jingxuan darted out.

“Song Yunmo, what are you doing in my palace?” Xiao Jingxuan shielded Su Jingluo behind him, suspecting that this unruly fellow had his eye on her. But she was already his Princess, though with Song Yunmo—one of the Three Eccentrics of Great Shang—nothing was ever certain. Ethics and propriety meant little; Song Yunmo might well not care for them at all.

“Didn’t you ask me to be your son’s tutor? So, I’ve come for lessons,” Song Yunmo replied, unfazed by Xiao Jingxuan’s fiery glare.

“At night?” Xiao Jingxuan had indeed said it—there was no better teacher than Song Yunmo—but to arrive so quickly after yesterday’s invitation? So eager to teach? Why then, when instructing the Crown Prince, did he take leave every other day?

“You only asked me to be the tutor; you didn’t specify when to start. Why fuss over the details?” There were few in the capital who could persuade Song Yunmo to teach. Even the Emperor had summoned him repeatedly, offering kind words and generous rewards before Song Yunmo agreed. Yet now Xiao Jingxuan dared to be picky.