Situ Xin’er froze, never having imagined that the very man she’d been so loudly counting on was sitting right there behind her.

But… what was wrong with him?

She’d known him since childhood, and yet she’d never once seen this man look quite so exhausted before.

For a moment, Situ Xin’er entirely forgot her own predicament, her heart flooding with worry instead. What was wrong with Beiyue-gege?

Seeing her finally calm down, Yingzi spoke up quietly, “Miss Situ, our lord’s been up all night and is exhausted—perhaps we should all step outside?”

Situ Xin’er didn’t even register Yingzi’s suggestion, too consumed with worry, yet also utterly captivated—she’d never realized Beiyue-gege looked so striking while asleep, his devastatingly handsome face free of its usual cold severity, peaceful in a way that felt entirely pure. Anyone who had never seen him would surely find themselves longing to see what he looked like the moment he woke.

“Miss Situ, our lord is tired—let’s step outside,” Imperial Physician Gu said quietly. Their lord’s behavior in the princess consort’s tent had already been strange enough—strange enough that even the revelation about the princess consort’s mysterious heritage hadn’t drawn much of a reaction from him. He genuinely didn’t want to imagine what might happen if Situ Xin’er kept carrying on like this.

“Can I please not leave?” Situ Xin’er asked weakly, still sprawled across the table, unable to tear her eyes away.

“You can’t, Miss Situ. You know our lord’s temperament well enough—we really should go now,” Yingzi urged hastily, moving to pull her along.

“I promise I won’t disturb him!” Situ Xin’er said earnestly.

“No, no, Miss Situ, let’s go. Our lord won’t be pleased!” Yingzi said, giving up on further persuasion and simply pulling Situ Xin’er up. She didn’t dare raise her voice, reluctantly letting the two maids support her as she was led out, while Yingzi and Imperial Physician Gu exchanged relieved, secretly delighted glances, hurrying along after her.

But the moment Situ Xin’er stepped outside her tent, something struck her as off at once.

“Wait a moment!”

Yingzi and Imperial Physician Gu froze in alarm, wanting to stop her but already too late.

“This is my tent!” Situ Xin’er declared, her voice carrying loudly.

“Shh…” Nearly everyone present hurried to signal her to keep quiet. Situ Xin’er immediately grew imperious, adopting the air of a proper mistress, waving a hand dismissively. “Ahem. You may all go now.”

But no one dared move.

“Go on, go on, no need to attend me further,” Situ Xin’er said again, her tone quite courteous on the surface, though she shot the maids a fierce glare beneath it. The maids hurried to withdraw at once.

Still a bit unsteady on her feet, Situ Xin’er leaned against the door frame, forcing a smile. “So… Imperial Physician Gu, Guard Yingzi, was there anything else you needed?”

“Well…” Imperial Physician Gu stammered, genuinely at a loss for how to answer—this was, after all, her own territory.

Yingzi, quicker on his feet, spoke up firmly. “Wherever our lord goes, this subordinate follows, ready to serve at his command.”

“Is that so.” Situ Xin’er laughed, practically glowing, her narrowed eyes making Yingzi involuntarily shudder, before saying with easy composure, “Then you’re welcome to wait outside as long as you like. I doubt Beiyue-gege will wake anytime soon.”

With that, she lifted the tent flap on her own, only for Yingzi to immediately reach out and stop her. “Wait a moment!”

Situ Xin’er, entirely unbothered, crossed her arms and asked earnestly, “Guard Yingzi, is there something urgent?”

“Well… Miss Situ, there’s a matter…”

Yingzi stammered, still unable to finish, when Situ Xin’er cut him off. “This young lady’s tired. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.”

With that, she deftly pushed his hand aside, and the moment she did, Yingzi immediately blocked her path again, wanting to scold her but unable to justify it, wanting to stop her but with no real grounds to do so.

“Or is it Beiyue-gege you actually need to see about something?” Situ Xin’er asked again, the implication clear enough—if he had the nerve, he was welcome to try waking Jun Beiyue himself!

Having watched everyone tread so carefully around him earlier, Situ Xin’er felt confident enough that none of them would dare actually wake him.

Yingzi fell resentfully silent, watching helplessly as Situ Xin’er slipped inside, exchanging a hopeless glance with Imperial Physician Gu, both entirely at a loss.

“I wonder if the princess consort’s woken up yet,” Imperial Physician Gu murmured to himself.

“Our lord, last night… could it be he didn’t… you know… did something spoil the mood?” Yingzi asked quietly, his words carrying a suggestive undertone—their lord’s mood and enthusiasm the night before had certainly seemed promising enough, even going so far as to apologize, something entirely unprecedented for him!

How had things changed so completely overnight? Was he simply exhausted, or was something else going on, that he’d ended up falling asleep in Situ Xin’er’s own tent of all places?

“I have no idea,” Imperial Physician Gu said, shaking his head repeatedly.

Inside the tent, meanwhile, everything had fallen silent. Situ Xin’er could barely contain her glee, her disheveled appearance doing nothing to dampen the delight written across her face. Not daring to make a sound, she pushed through her lingering dizziness, tiptoeing carefully toward the couch.

Suddenly, Jun Beiyue’s hand, propping up his head, shifted, rubbing at his temple, and Situ Xin’er’s foot, halfway through a step, froze mid-air, a cold sweat breaking out across her at once!

Such a rare, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—in truth, she had no real intention of doing anything untoward, nor did she dare. She simply wanted Beiyue-gege to stay asleep here in her tent a little longer, even just a little while would be more than enough!

Before long, Jun Beiyue settled his hand back beneath his head, growing still once more.

Situ Xin’er finally, slowly, set her aching foot back down, letting out a deep breath of relief. Not daring to get too close, she settled herself onto a couch some distance away instead, chin propped in both hands, expression utterly content, gazing foolishly at Jun Beiyue’s peaceful sleeping face. The longer she stared, the more she found herself unable to resist drifting into fantasy—how wonderful it would be, to wake up every single day to such a serene, beautiful sight; how wonderful it would be, to wake each morning cradled in his broad embrace!

The thought made her pout at once, a flicker of resentment crossing her eyes—Han Ziqing. Han Ziqing got to enjoy all of this, every single day. She was Beiyue-gege’s one and only woman.

In the silence, Situ Xin’er’s mind wandered endlessly between fantasy and resentment, both equally boundless, and before she knew it, evening had arrived.

And it was exactly then that Ziqing, having slept through an entire day and night, finally began to stir, dazed and groggy.

“My lady, does your head hurt?” Hongyi asked, overjoyed.

Ziqing pressed a hand to her aching head, brow furrowed, struggling to recall anything at all—but her memory simply stopped at last night’s victory feast, at Situ Xin’er’s drunken confession of affection toward Jun Beiyue, at her own stubborn insistence on demanding a direct answer from him. She only remembered that he hadn’t given one, that he’d wanted to send her away instead.

“My lady, drink this medicine quickly—Imperial Physician Gu said it’s for nourishing the liver and clearing the head!” Hongyi said, bringing over the herbal decoction, unable to suppress her giggling.

Ziqing sniffed it before drinking it down, saying flatly, “What are you so pleased about?”

Hongyi’s face flushed faintly, and she said nothing.

“How did I get back last night? Did I throw up?” Ziqing asked again—she could piece together, more or less, from the aftereffects, that she’d been quite thoroughly drunk.

“My lord personally carried you back, my lady. You gave him quite a fright last night, you know—he even apologized to you! Do you remember?” Hongyi said, growing more delighted the more she talked, practically beaming.

“Apologized?” Ziqing was faintly startled—was that man even capable of understanding what an apology meant?

Hongyi nodded eagerly. “My lord said he’d never let you drink again. My lady, my lord personally tended to you all last night—you were coughing up blood from how sick you were, and it turned his face pale with worry. Thank goodness… hehe…”

Hongyi, recalling the overbearing kiss Prince Yao had given her mistress the night before, couldn’t help but blush furiously, torn between embarrassment and genuine happiness for her mistress, momentarily at a loss for words.

Ziqing eyed Hongyi suspiciously, a faint sense of unease stirring within her, and said earnestly, “What exactly happened? Tell me clearly!”