The Weeping Moon: The Moon That Sheds Vermilion Tears Chapter 142. Revenge

Linyue stared at Shu Mingye, completely puzzled. Why did he look like soone had just stabbed him right in the heart and then stepped on it for good asure?

His face stayed calm, but not the good kind of calm. It was the kind that silently scread, "Everything is fine. Definitely fine. I am absolutely not falling apart inside. Please do not notice I am falling apart inside."

Did he misunderstand?

All she had done was apologize. That itself was a rare, high-value, limited-edition event. She didn’t hand those out often. Surely he should feel touched, or honored, or at least overwheld with gratitude. At the very least, he shouldn’t be looking like soone just told him he had eaten spoiled buns for breakfast and was about to die a slow, tragic death.

Linyue tilted her head, her dark eyes fixed on him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t heard her properly. She tried again, this ti with a little more care. Her voice stayed soft and honest. “I’m sorry for the things I said in the past.”

His brows twitched. Barely. Still no words. So she kept going, clearer this ti, just in case he sohow forgot the details of her past insults. “The die properly part. The funeral part.”

Shu Mingye’s lips parted slightly in surprise.

Linyue frowned, as though sorting through her thoughts one by one, choosing them carefully. “And… the other things I might not rember. Or didn’t realize would hurt you,” she added quietly.

He just stared at her.

That was what she was apologizing for?

For a mont, his mind went blank. He could still rember every single word she had ever thrown at him. Yes, they had stung. Yes, he had worn his usual calm mask and acted like it ant nothing. But the truth? Each one had landed. Each one had left a mark. And now, she was apologizing for them? She finally understood?

Sothing in his chest tightened painfully, then loosened all at once. For a dizzying second, Shu Mingye actually felt like he might be floating. Or maybe it was just the emotional rollercoaster he had just ridden. He had almost given up. Almost. He had nearly accepted his fate as the forever friend-zoned king, dood in quiet, noble suffering while she ignored him and ate dumplings. But maybe he had been wrong.

He let out a slow breath and decided to risk it. To push a little. His voice ca out low, careful. “Then I’m not… rejected, am I?”

Linyue blinked at him. “Rejected?” she echoed, her tone soft and lightly confused.

His heart jumped into his throat. Was this a trap?

He cleared his throat, aiming for casual, but it ca out suspiciously rough. “You know… you didn’t say no.”

“No to what?”

“To… ?” His voice dropped so low it was almost a whisper.

Linyue studied him in silence. Just a mont ago, he had looked like a tragic hero—eyes dim, lips pressed so tightly they could have drawn blood. Now, he looked completely different. His ears were red. His shoulders were tense. And his eyes… his eyes were hopeful in a way that made him seem ridiculously adorable.

Her lips curved slowly, a hint of mischief flickering across her face. This man had kissed her. Twice. No warning. No permission. Completely rude. Unapologetically bold. And absolutely unforgivable. Which, of course, ant only one thing: revenge ti.

Without a word, she leaned in a little, close enough that she saw his breath catch. Then, with perfect precision, she pressed the lightest, softest kiss to the corner of his lips. Barely there. A whisper of a touch.

Shu Mingye’s eyes went wide. He looked like he had forgotten how to breathe.

Linyue leaned back, her expression smooth and innocent, like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down. She even added the sweetest, most innocent smile she could manage. The one that said, “I did nothing wrong, Your Majesty,” while also saying, “Yes, I absolutely did that on purpose.”

Shu Mingye couldn’t believe what just happened. She kissed him. On purpose. And then smiled. Sweetly. With dimples. Yep, this was definitely going to be a problem. His brain promptly short-circuited, sparks and all. He couldn’t even tell if he was dead, dreaming, or simply a fool so helplessly in love that he had officially passed the point of no return. Before he could even process it—

BANG!

The door slamd open with a loud crash.

Both Linyue and Shu Mingye turned their heads in perfect sync toward the door.

Song iyu stood in the doorway, one leg still lifted mid-air from the dramatic kick. She was holding a big pot of sothing steaming and slled suspicious. Her eyes went wide when she saw the very obvious scene before her: The infamous Demon King holding Linyue way too close. Both of them caught red-handed. Both looking mildly guilty but not even remotely sorry.

A slow, wicked grin stretched across Song iyu’s face from ear to ear. “Ehem,” she said. “Did I disturb sothing again?”

Shu Mingye stiffened. His hands dropped from Linyue’s waist instantly. His ears betrayed him again. Red, bright, and impossible to miss.

Linyue, as usual, remained calm and completely unbothered. She turned to Song iyu with a perfectly innocent face that no one believed for a single second.

“What’s that, Sister iyu?” she asked lightly, as if there hadn’t been a romantic cri scene unfolding five seconds ago.

Song iyu wiggled her eyebrows, clearly delighted. “Garlic dumpling noodles,” she said proudly. “Do you rember? The one we never got to try in the capital?”

Linyue’s eyes lit up instantly, her calm deanor lting into sothing bright and excited. “Of course! Thousand-layer pie, garlic dumpling noodles, and moon rabbit cake!”

Shu Mingye stared at her with a completely deadpan look. A mont ago, she kissed him. And now... she was back to talking about dumplings again. This woman was definitely going to be the death of him, either from being way too cute or making him insanely jealous of flour.

Song iyu walked into the room like she hadn’t just kicked the door open and ruined a perfectly good romantic mont. She didn’t even blink at the tension lingering in the air. Instead, her eyes landed on Shu Mingye’s bright red ears, and she gave him a sly grin that said she knew exactly what was going on. She didn’t say a word. Which, of course, made everything a hundred tis worse.

Still wearing her best “I’m so innocent” face, she walked over to the table and set the steaming pot down right in the middle. “Thousand-layer pie and moon rabbit cake are too hard to make,” she declared brightly. “So, I went for sothing easier. Garlic dumpling noodles! Just flour and garlic. Easy!”

Linyue’s gaze drifted toward the steaming pot. Her voice ca out faint and trembling. “Sister iyu, you… made it yourself?”

Song iyu nodded so hard her hair bounced. “Of course! I made a lot! I already told the others to co too. We’re having a garlic breakfast party!”

Linyue didn’t look excited at all. Her eyes went blank. Her lips parted slightly. Her hands gripped the edge of the table so tight her knuckles turned white, like she was holding on to the last bit of sanity she had.

Shu Mingye, who had been watching her like a hawk since the mont she smiled earlier, caught every subtle shift in her expression. He leaned back with his arms crossed and said with irritating calm, “I wanted to ask the palace kitchen to prepare breakfast earlier, but they told your very loud friend was already cooking. So I ca here instead.”

Linyue turned to him slowly, her eyes wide and full of quiet horror. She leaned in and whispered like she was afraid the pot might overhear. “So you knew… and you let her cook?”

“What’s the problem?”

Linyue’s look was one of pure, silent betrayal. “You have no idea what’s about to happen to us.”

Right on cue, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Shen Zhenyu and He Yuying appeared at the door, looking curious and totally clueless about the culinary disaster waiting inside.