The Weeping Moon: The Moon That Sheds Vermilion Tears Chapter 68. Uninvited Guest (4)

Prince Lu, the very picture of elegance and defiance, only smiled wider. “What’s the hurry?” he said lightly. “Now that I’m here, I plan to stay for a few days. I heard Shulin is known for its rich forests and a fine collection of dicinal plants.”

Shu Mingye’s face didn’t move an inch. No flicker, no twitch, nothing. But inside, he was already drafting a new law: No more princes. Ever.

Bold. This man was bold. Or stupid. And maybe just a little bit insane. Shu Mingye narrowed his eyes slightly. Did insanity spread like a cold? Was it contagious? Because lately, he was surrounded by chaos in human form. And now here was another one—sitting across the hall and talking about staying in Shulin like he owned the place.

He cut a sideways glance at Linyue. Clearly her fault. Sohow. She didn’t even need to try. Trouble just walked in and bowed politely at her doorstep.

Prince Lu, still smiling, set his cup down neatly. “It’s late. Thank you for the welco banquet,” he said smoothly. “It’s been… festive.”

Festive? Linyue stared at the table. There had been seven cups of tea, zero music, and an awkward silence held together by sheer tension.

Without waiting for a reply, Prince Lu rose from his seat and strolled out of the hall. His maidservant followed silently, the perfect shadow. He didn’t rush. He didn’t bow. He didn’t even look back. Just left, as if the evening had gone exactly the way he wanted.

Linyue slowly turned her head toward Shu Mingye. His hand was still wrapped around hers like he fully intended to tie it to his belt. He didn’t say a word. His eyes were already full of dangerous calculations—maps, strategy, possible assassination routes, maybe even a trap or two.

“…Are you going to let go?” she asked carefully, already calculating the number of steps between her and the nearest window in case she had to make a dramatic exit.

He looked down at their hands. Then at her. Then at the door Prince Lu had just walked through. “…No,” he said flatly.

Linyue blinked. “…Why not?”

Shu Mingye’s dark gaze locked on hers. “Do you know him?”

Ah. There it was. The interrogation disguised as a polite question.

What should she say? The truth? A half-truth? Pretend she had sudden mory loss? Her brain sprinted through possibilities. She didn’t know why Prince Lu ca here yet. He hadn’t exactly handed her a script before crashing the royal dinner. Should she answer as Princess Fu Yuxin? Or as herself?

She decided to go with neither. She gave a soft smile and said, “Oh wow, look at the ti. It's ti for my beauty sleep.” She stood up, gave her hand a little tug, and—

Nope. It did not work.

Shu Mingye pulled her hand closer to him instead. “You don’t need beauty sleep,” he said grimly, eyes locked on hers.

Was that… a complint? It sounded like a complint. Except it was delivered in the sa tone soone might use to say, You’re under arrest. Dark. Serious. Possibly offended.

He must be jealous of her beauty. Yes. That was the only explanation.

Fine. He wasn’t going to let this go. Clearly his brain had entered Investigation Mode. Suspicion everywhere. Suspicion of Prince Lu, suspicion of her, suspicion of the air in the room.

So she gave him a little truth. “The elegant Princess Fu Yuxin,” she said with an extra air of drama, “doesn’t know him. But I do. He often cos to Xuanyi Pavilion.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why did he co?”

Linyue shrugged, playing innocent even while her fingers were still very much imprisoned in his. “I don’t know.”

He stared at her harder. “I ant,” he said slowly, “why did he co to Xuanyi Pavilion? Not here.”

Behind them, Song iyu slid a dumpling off the table and into her mouth. Her eyes sparkled like she was watching her favorite romantic cody storybook unfold live in front of her, and she muttered to herself, “This is so much better than the palace plays…”

Linyue looked back at Shu Mingye.

Wait. What? Why did he care about that?

She tilted her head, puzzled but honest. “He and his sister ca to play,” she said. “Drink tea. Steal snacks. Break furniture. Occasionally run away from palace duty.”

Shu Mingye narrowed his eyes, slow and suspicious. “That’s it?”

Linyue raised both eyebrows. “There’s… more?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at her. Hard. Silent. Suspicious enough to make the air feel heavier.

Linyue, still caught halfway between sitting and standing, sighed in defeat. “Are you ever going to let go of my hand?”

“…No,” he said again. Completely serious. Not even pretending to think about it.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, lowering herself back into her seat. “Guess I’ll sleep at the table then.”

And right then, finally, Shu Mingye laughed.

It wasn’t a loud, wild cackle. It was low, warm, and a little rough, the kind of sound that suggested laughter wasn’t sothing his voice box was used to producing. But it was unmistakably a laugh. His shoulders shook slightly, his grip on her hand loosened, and there was a flicker of sothing strange in his eyes. Amusent, maybe. Or affection. Or both.

Then, with an actual smile tugging at his lips, he released her hand at last. “Go sleep in your chamber,” he said smoothly, as if he wasn’t the exact reason she had been stuck there this whole ti.

Linyue did not wait for him to change his mind. She fled the palace hall, skirts brushing fast against the floor. Her feet felt light, but her mind was heavy, and her grip on reality was... slippery at best.

Naturally, Song iyu was already bubbling with gossip the mont they stepped outside.

“Why did the prince co here?” she fired off, eyes wide with both suspicion and delight. “Why did the Demon King keep holding your hand? What’s going on between you two? Tell everything. Everything.”

Linyue walked faster, hoping the night air would calm her thoughts. “I don’t know either,” she said smoothly, dodging the last two questions. “The dicine must be just a cover. Could it be… Master Yin Xue asked him?”

Song iyu narrowed her eyes. “He has no reason to co here otherwise. You think Master Yin Xue sent him to spy on us?”

“Or,” Linyue muttered, voice low and serious, “to cause trouble.”

Song iyu gasped, clutching her chest. “I haven’t told Master Yin Xue about the Dream Star Leaf yet…”

At the ntion of the plant, both girls froze. The na alone dragged the mories back—blood, more blood, too much blood, and that awful vision of skeletons stacked like firewood.

A long, grim silence followed.

By the ti they reached the chamber, Linyue quickly stripped off the suffocating layers of her formal princess disguise and slipped into her usual white robes. Comfortable, loose, simple. She sighed, relieved to feel like herself again.

Song iyu, however, was not about to let the night end in peace. She plopped herself into a chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp, ready to collect the rest of the juicy story. Linyue could almost hear the questions ready to leap from her mouth. But before a single one could escape, a faint knock sounded from the back window.

Knock. Knock.

Both of them froze.

“Did you hear that?” Song iyu whispered.

“I’m pretending I didn’t,” Linyue whispered back.

Knock. Knock. Again. Soft, almost polite. But persistent.

Song iyu slowly turned her head toward the window. “It’s a demon, isn’t it?” she whispered. Her eyes went wide. “A polite one. The worst kind.”

Linyue let out a long sigh. “Oh yes, because demons are famous for good manners. Excuse , may I eat you politely with so soy sauce?”

Despite her words, she crossed the room, pulled the curtain aside, and cracked open the window.

She paused.

A familiar face stared back at her.