Chapter 84: You're Very Clever—Smarter Than My Cat!

Chu Liuchen reached out again, pressing gently on her long hair. He watched as her large, glistening eyes lifted to glare at him—she really did resemble it more and more. Having been away from the capital for some time, he missed the little cat he kept at home. No wonder the indignant young lady before him seemed so familiar. The corners of his light-colored lips curved upward, and his brows arched as he smiled, warmth lighting his eyes.

Qin Wanru widened her clear eyes in surprise, truly feeling as if she'd seen a ghost. Had she just found this Prince Chen’s smile... warm?

This prince, known for his gloom, cunning, and unpredictable tempers, actually gave her a sense of gentle warmth when he smiled. She must be imagining things.

She blinked once, then opened her eyes again.

By now, the voices inside had faded. She could hear Qin Huaiyong leaving, his heavy footsteps receding, and quiet settling around them.

“Your Highness, can we go now?” Qin Wanru asked, shifting her hand which was still tightly held. The vat was large enough—there was no need for them to huddle so closely.

It made her quite uncomfortable.

“What’s the rush? It’s nice here,” Chu Liuchen replied lazily, leaning back against the vat’s wall, gazing up at the sky. It was midday; the sun was warm and there was no wind—a perfect spot to bask in the sun.

Qin Wanru also looked up, squinting against the brightness. “What’s so nice about this? It’s the stars at night that are beautiful.”

“Hiding in a vat to stargaze at night?” Chu Liuchen laughed, his handsome brows arching. He rather liked this idea. Perhaps he’d have a large vat placed outside his palace; at night, he could hide inside and watch the stars—a vast expanse of sky above, not nearly so lonely as gazing from an open rooftop. “Have you tried it before?”

“I… Of course not!” Qin Wanru blushed, stubbornly denying it. Yet she had—more than once, in fact.

Since her rebirth, she often struggled to sleep at night. She’d sneak out and curl up in the large vat in the courtyard, feeling safe there. The sky was right overhead, and in that snug, hidden space, she truly felt she’d been reborn—a whole person, not someone cut in half.

“Next time you come to my residence, I’ll prepare a big vat for you. We can move it onto the roof for an even better view of the stars,” Chu Liuchen offered, with a hint of youthful pride and nonchalance.

A grand vat atop the high palace halls, beside the upturned beastly eaves, with someone’s head poking out, gazing at the stars against the solemn backdrop of the great hall…

Qin Wanru dared not imagine further—the image was both beautiful and dangerous. If anyone ever found out, what a story that would make.

The future emperor of a great nation, with such an eccentric hobby as hiding in a vat at midnight—this indulgence might well lead the future ruler down a most peculiar path.

It was hard to picture, but seeing Chu Liuchen’s earnest expression, Qin Wanru wisely lowered her head to hide her smile.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Whatever the chances, it was best to thank him anyway, she thought with tact.

“Does your father harbor feelings for the bride inside? Did he create this spectacle on purpose?” Chu Liuchen resumed the earlier topic, stroking his smooth chin with amusement.

“Don’t speak nonsense.” Qin Wanru’s heart skipped a beat as she looked up abruptly.

“Nonsense?” Chu Liuchen raised a brow, a faint smile touching his lips, his eyes sharp and chilling. “You’re bold indeed, accusing me of nonsense.”

“I… I wouldn’t dare!” Color drained from Qin Wanru’s face, and she hurriedly lowered her head, reminded by the small, enclosed space that he was still capable of being cold and calculating.

“The bride in there is your father’s cousin?” Chu Liuchen chose not to press the matter, but a cold gleam flashed in his eyes. In that moment, he was no longer the languid, petulant youth but the proud, unfeeling crown prince she remembered—distant and powerful.

“Yes, she’s my father’s cousin. My Aunt Shui grew up in our household, raised by my grandmother. She later married, but had no children. Grandmother brought her back, and she’s lived quietly in the rear courtyard ever since. If the Madam hadn’t plotted against her, she would still be just my Aunt Shui.”

Qin Wanru explained quickly, anxious that Chu Liuchen might misunderstand Shui Ruolan and cause her trouble later.

“Your father’s never done anything improper?” Chu Liuchen smiled, a trace of indolence in his tone.

“No, my father rarely saw Aunt Shui. He’s always been respectful, even though they grew up together—there was never anything between them,” Qin Wanru replied carefully, her pale face earnest.

“So in the end, the general’s wife did him a favor. It seems General Ningyuan stands to gain the most,” Chu Liuchen remarked offhandedly.

His words sent Qin Wanru’s heart pounding, as if something was about to break through the surface, but she suppressed it. “Your Highness jests. Shouldn’t we leave now? If someone finds us together, it won’t look good, especially with you dressed as a servant.”

She tried again, hoping to end their awkward proximity.

“What, afraid you’ll be seen with a servant boy?” Chu Liuchen released her hand, straightening his own clothes with satisfaction.

Freed at last, Qin Wanru glanced at her reddened wrist, speechless.

“Weren’t you going to take me somewhere fun—where I’ve never been before? Well, lead the way,” Chu Liuchen said, feigning reluctance as he prepared to stand.

Quickly, Qin Wanru grabbed him. Just now, she’d only wanted to coax him to the back window to peek at the bridal chamber; there was nothing else to offer. Somewhere fun he’d never been? She racked her brains.

“Your Highness, have you ever played in a vat like this before?”

“No!” Chu Liuchen looked her up and down with disdain. He lived by the rules—how could he do something so improper?

“Well, since you haven’t, doesn’t this count as something new?” Qin Wanru smiled triumphantly, her lips curving with childish pride and mischief.

Chu Liuchen chuckled softly, his beauty unmatched.

“Are you trying to say this vat is your idea of fun for me?”

“Isn’t it fun, Your Highness?” Qin Wanru replied sheepishly.

“Qin Wanru, you’re clever—much cleverer than my cat,” Chu Liuchen said, his words laden with meaning.

But Qin Wanru was startled by the praise, sweat prickling her back as she eyed the seemingly harmless youth with cautious wariness.

“Your Highness, can it count or not?”

“Yes, it counts. I’ll let you off this time,” Chu Liuchen replied in good spirits. He stood and leapt out of the vat.

Relieved, Qin Wanru reached for the rim and, though it was high, nimbly climbed out as well.

Seeing them emerge, Xiao Xuanzi and Qingyue quickly followed.

Together, they slipped out through the back door.

“Your Highness, are you tired? Should you rest?” Once they reached a secluded spot, Qin Wanru looked at Chu Liuchen’s face, noticing he seemed even paler than before.

“Master, you need to take your medicine soon. You can’t stay here any longer,” Xiao Xuanzi exclaimed, alarmed by his master’s weakness. He hurried to support him.

“Let’s go,” Chu Liuchen replied, uncharacteristically agreeable, and nodded. “Qin Wanru, see me to your residence’s back gate.”

So his carriage was at the back gate after all?

Qin Wanru thought helplessly, but seeing his condition, she dared not delay. Leading them through winding paths, she brought them to the back entrance.

The gate was ajar; the gatekeeper must have been busy with the day’s events and was nowhere to be seen.

Pushing the door open, they saw a wide carriage outside. Though ordinary at first glance, its size was extravagant, and the curtains were subtly embroidered with real gold thread—only visible upon close inspection. Opulent, yet understated.

Xiao Xuanzi helped Chu Liuchen into the carriage. Seeing how weak he was, Qin Wanru lent a hand, helping him inside.

Once Chu Liuchen was settled and the coachman expertly turned the horses, the carriage rolled away smoothly. Only then did Qin Wanru finally relax. She had truly feared he would have an episode in her home—no one could bear such responsibility.

After the carriage disappeared, she and Qingyue returned, closing the door behind them.

The carriage moved slowly. Reclining inside, Chu Liuchen took the bowl of thick black medicine Xiao Xuanzi handed him and drank it all in one gulp. Setting the bowl aside, he massaged his brow.

“Are you very tired, Master?” Xiao Xuanzi took back the bowl, anxiously studying his master’s face.

Chu Liuchen closed his eyes and murmured a low “hmm.”

“Master, shall we visit the abbess at Jingxin Nunnery later? I think it’s helping. In the past, if you went this long without resting, you’d be much worse off. What do you think?”

Xiao Xuanzi cautiously inquired about his condition after the medicine.

“What use is it? It’s only a temporary effect,” Chu Liuchen replied, eyes closed, his jade-like face expressionless—as if speaking of someone else’s body.

“Master, even if it’s temporary, we should try. If we find the person Doctor Qi mentioned, your illness might be cured,” Xiao Xuanzi urged.

This time, Chu Liuchen made no sound, only waving his hand to silence him.

Xiao Xuanzi hesitated, then couldn’t help asking, “So, Master, shall we go to Jingxin Nunnery?”

“Let’s go,” Chu Liuchen replied indifferently.

“Yes, Master!” Overjoyed by this rare acquiescence, Xiao Xuanzi’s eyes filled with tears. Doctor Qi had often said that for his master to recover, it would take both external help and his own cooperation. If he didn’t care for his own health or follow treatment, how could he ever get better?