She gathered his robe on her arm, her hand concealed beneath the hem, and said softly, “Your Highness, please forgive me. It was unintentional.”

Since he had already labeled her as impudent, wouldn’t she be wasting the reputation if she didn’t act a little bold? Especially when hearing his mocking, sarcastic words, the stubborn streak in her bones instantly refused to show weakness.

He remained rigid, unable to speak.

She said it was unintentional—how could he punish her now?

She wasn’t a palace maid specifically assigned to serve him. For a Hanlin Academy Compiler to help the Crown Prince undress in the Eastern Palace—whose reputation would suffer if this got out?

Seeing he didn’t speak, she quickly lowered her head, clutching his robes as she prepared to retreat. But just as she turned, she heard him call from behind: “Meng Tinghui.”

So she stopped and turned back to look at him.

His voice didn’t sound angry, yet it was cold: “That day outside Chongzhou City, you had already recognized me?”

She was momentarily startled, then nodded, saying, “I only recognized Your Highness as the noble person who saved me years ago, but didn’t know Your Highness was the Crown Prince.”

He asked again, “Why did you break protocol during the provincial examination?”

She vaguely sensed his questions carried a deeper meaning. Her heart tightened, unwilling to let him glimpse her true intentions. She simply replied coolly, “Your Highness, if someone were to enter now and see Your Highness standing unclothed with me, what would they think?”

After a moment of silence, he said, “You think I truly can’t do anything to you?”

Looking at his emotionless face, she smiled: “Your Highness forgets, our dynasty doesn’t execute scholars and officials. I now have an official rank.”

He said, “I may not be able to kill you, but I can demote you.”

She nodded, still smiling: “Your Highness certainly can demote me, but on what charges? For not serving Your Highness properly?”

This wasn’t the first time she had talked back to him.

No one in the entire court dared to address him this way, yet when she spoke disrespectfully to him, he surprisingly didn’t feel angry. Each question was meant to confirm his suspicions, but she was guarding herself against him.

Because he knew she was different, he increasingly wanted to probe into the depths of her heart—a desire he had never experienced before.

When she asked him about the charges, she clearly understood with perfect clarity that he was merely testing her, not truly angry or reprimanding her.

When had court law ever defined crimes for behavior like hers?

Traditionally, only the Emperor could favor officials for their appearance, hence the term “favored sycophant officials.” Even during his mother’s reign, the court only heard of her fondness for handsome men, never of men taking liberties with her.

Ultimately, if such matters got out, at most she would be labeled as opportunistic, while he would be the main culprit indulging in beauty and desire.

Her gaze upon him was calm, yet in its depths, as always, were threads of something else, completely unmasked.

He was no fool.

She was intelligent, unique, bold, impudent, and had designs on him, yet she could also be useful to him.

Meeting her gaze, his expression suddenly softened somewhat as he said deliberately: “Meng Tinghui if you make any mistakes in your position as Hanlin Academy Compiler, no one in court can protect you.”

Though it sounded like a warning, she merely smiled faintly and said softly, “I understand.”

He was again curious about her reaction.

She wasn’t afraid of him.

Not in the slightest.

She turned to put away his clothes, lowering her eyes and taking a deep breath.

No matter how cold or harsh his words, she would not fear him.

On that rainy night ten years ago, in that dilapidated temple shed, that handsome-faced youth had held her so gently, softly coaxing her to sleep, telling her what his mother had told him.

The closure of temples and nunneries beyond the imperial edict for the northern Chao’an route wasn’t meant to leave them homeless but to prohibit private ordination of monks and nuns, and forbid self-mutilation practices like cutting off limbs, burning fingers, hanging lamps, and wearing clamps that deceived common people.

Back then, she was shivering with tear-filled eyes, not understanding his words. She only knew that many copper Buddhist statues from temples and nunneries had been confiscated by officials to mint coins—but how could Buddha statues be used to mint money?

That youth told her his mother once said: “Buddha teaches people through goodness; if one is committed to goodness, one follows Buddha. How can copper statues be called Buddha? Moreover, I’ve heard that Buddha exists to benefit people—he would give even his head and eyes as alms. If my body can help the people, it is not something to be cherished either.”

In her childhood, she still didn’t understand, only staring at him foolishly, constantly trying to burrow deeper into his embrace.

He held her tightly and whispered to her again, “If my body can benefit the people, I will not begrudge it.”

After so many years, she finally understood what that sentence truly meant.

During the palace examination in Baohe Hall, the moment she saw him seated behind the gilded dragon desk, she knew he would certainly become the Great Ping Dynasty’s wisest ruler.

Looking at his frost-covered face, gazing into his eyes cold as an abyss, her mind only recalled that handsome youth from years ago.

How could she fear him?

He would never do anything unworthy of an enlightened ruler.

Shortly after, palace servants entered, lit palace candles on the tall desk in the corner of the outer hall, prepared brushes, ink, and paper, and placed brocade cushions on the stools, all with great efficiency.

He walked into the inner hall with his hands behind his back, brought out all the memorials submitted from the Inner Court today, piled them on the desk, and said to her: “Those submitted from outside the capital, the Pacification Bureau has sorted for my review; those from the Six Ministries and Three Departments in the capital, inform me according to urgency; those rejected by the Chancellery, send them all back.” After speaking, he looked at her, “Any questions?”

She shook her head gently, turned to go behind the desk, and began to bend over to grind the ink.

He stared at her for a while before returning to the inner hall, instructing palace servants to bring water for his bath.

His sweat-soaked robe felt cold and damp, yet somehow carried her faint fragrance, making him feel uncomfortable all over.

Her calm tone and gentle movements were so strongly imprinted in his mind, just like her bold, unrestrained actions, unforgettable from the first touch.

This feeling suddenly made him somewhat uneasy.

The sound of the night watchman’s drum outside the imperial city carried faintly from afar.

Deep into the night, the court gazettes on the desk remained unfinished, while his shoulders and neck were unbearably sore.

He threw his brush on the desk, leaned back, moved his neck, and involuntarily glanced toward her in the outer hall.

Through several layers of curtains, her silhouette appeared blurry in the dim candlelight, seemingly having fallen asleep at the desk.

For several hours, she hadn’t disturbed him, quietly doing what he had instructed except during mealtime.

Her “obedience” surprised him.

As he gazed at her, that body bent over the desk appeared so soft, suddenly reminding him of how she felt pressed against him that day.

Soft, fragrant—a woman’s body.

The way she looked at him, her words, her tone, and her fearless demeanor, were not without allure.

He was, after all, a young man in his prime.

Having experienced relations between men and women, he knew what it felt like.

But what about her?

He reached for the teacup on the desk, his mind replaying the feeling when she had accidentally touched his lower body.

The tea was scalding hot, making his fingertips tingle.

In this quiet moment deep into the night, thinking of these things, his bones seemed to cry out, steam rising within his body, making him slightly restless.

She was sleeping soundly.

Yet he found it difficult to sit still. Just looking at her made his mind uncontrollably conjure indecent images…

His hand involuntarily moved downward.

He imagined her bent not over the hard desk, but over him, her calm eyes gazing at him, her eloquent lips slightly parted, her restless, slender fingers encircling him, caressing him, making him sigh with pleasure.

Too obscene.

She would be his official, and he had treated her coldly, yet now he was doing such things to her in his mind.

But the more obscene, the more excited he became.

A different kind of stimulation…

A hoarse sound escaped his throat, a palm wet with fluid, and after a while, he regained his scattered thoughts and opened his eyes.

Looking up, he saw the curtain fluttering in the breeze. She had awakened at some point and was now sitting upright at the desk, a smile on her lips, gazing intently at his every move.