Chapter 61: Eager to Learn

Meanwhile, Chu Mingheng was also preparing to reprimand someone.

The sudden sound of a book snapping shut was particularly startling. Lan Wu stood before Chu Mingheng, secretly glancing up at him. She saw him toss one book aside and pick up another, flipping it open.

On the desk, a tall stack of storybooks had already piled up.

Lan Wu didn’t know what he was looking for, but this pre-storm atmosphere was clearly not a good sign.

She had been standing for a long time, and her legs were starting to ache.

Lan Wu couldn’t help but shift her feet.

Chu Mingheng slowly lifted his gaze to sweep over her, then with a flick of his finger, turned the open book around and casually spread it out on the desk.

His voice carried a faint smile as he said nonchalantly, “A toad lusting after a swan’s flesh.”

“Running into ghosts in broad daylight.”

“Ah Wu is truly eager to learn.”

As his words fell, a tingling sensation surged up Lan Wu’s spine, straight to her head, instantly sobering her up.

Those were indeed the words she had said to Xia Shurong and Fang Jieyu, and she had indeed learned them from storybooks.

But she hadn’t said anything wrong!

Lan Wu frowned, displeased, her eyes filled with a hint of anger.

“They were the ones… they deliberately provoked this concubine.”

Although Xia Shurong was of a lower rank than her, she relied on her longer time in the palace and spoke to Lan Wu without respect, calling her “little sister” and asking about Chu Mingheng’s preferences.

Why would she need to ask? Her clothes were almost identical to Lan Wu’s, so why come and ask?

Was she looking for trouble?

And that Fang Jieyu.

She had visited Lan Wu’s palace once before, and now she was imitating Rong Shu Yi, frequently standing by the pavilion at Bì Wēi Lake. Lan Wu had seen her twice, dressed all in white. Had Lan Wu said anything wrong?

“Am I the swan?” she was fuming, but Chu Mingheng suddenly spoke, leaving Lan Wu’s anger hanging in the air as she shrank back timidly.

Lan Wu’s hands hung at her sides, and she shook her head at Chu Mingheng in response.

She looked at Chu Mingheng, her eyes curved and bright, her words soft enough to melt anyone’s heart.

“Your Majesty is not a swan. Your Majesty is mightier than a heavenly god. Your Majesty is the best!”

Chu Mingheng clicked his tongue lightly, leaned over, and pulled her back, settling her in his lap as he kneaded her softened waist. Lan Wu squirmed, ticklish, trying to evade his hands.

“Then who is the swan? You?”

Lan Wu grew warm from his touch. Her legs, already numb from standing so long, now felt even weaker. Hearing Chu Mingheng’s words, she hastily hummed in agreement, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her soft lips to his jaw.

“Oh, little swan.” Chu Mingheng stopped his movements, smiled, and looked down, his deep, dark pupils fixed on Lan Wu as he whispered slowly, “Show me your wings.”

Lan Wu struggled to escape. It was still broad daylight, and indulging in such activities during the day was something she could only handle once—any more would be too much for her.

But clearly, Chu Mingheng didn’t share her thoughts.

Her kicking legs were no match for Chu Mingheng’s strength as he carried her all the way back to the Inner Palace. In broad daylight, Chu Mingheng shamelessly insisted on seeing her wings.

“This concubine… doesn’t have any!” Lan Wu sank into the soft bedding, her face flushed with heat. “No wings—!”

Chu Mingheng’s fingers traced lightly as he asked in a low voice if she intended to deceive the emperor.

Lan Wu trembled all over and hurriedly said no.

In the end, blushing, she half-heartedly showed Chu Mingheng her ‘wings.’

…

The entire afternoon passed before Chu Mingheng had his fill and finally released her.

Lan Wu’s eyes shimmered with moisture, her long lashes damp with tears.

She tried to push herself up to sit, but her hand brushed against a damp spot. Looking down, two more tears silently fell.

Chu Mingheng picked her up and carried her toward the bathing chamber.

“What is there to be ashamed of? I have seen it all before.”

Lan Wu turned her head away, sobbing quietly without a word, her tears dripping into the water.

Chu Mingheng wiped her tears away and gently tapped her forehead with his finger. “This bathtub is too small, don’t you think, A’Wu?”

Lan Wu’s tears stopped. She gazed at the water’s surface, then, as if lost in thought, gave a slight nod.

Her fingers, resting beneath the water, trembled faintly—a trembling that was clearly not born of guilt or fear.

Was Chu Mingheng saying that Longyu Pavilion was too small?

Was he going to move her to another residence?

Where could it be?

Surely not Lejing Pavilion again.

That night, Lan Wu slept deeply, but Chu Mingheng beside her was plagued by constant dreams.

He saw Lan Wu again.

She had moved into another palace but was not happy. Whenever she met him, she was always sorrowful, yet she still tried to please him.

The dream was silent.

Once, he stepped over the threshold and saw Lan Wu sitting by the window, lost in thought.

She wore a light green dress, a jade bamboo hairpin in her coiled hair, and silver earrings inlaid with tourmaline that made her skin appear as fair as snow.

She had been pampered into even greater beauty.

But as soon as she saw him, she began to cry again.

He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he watched as she stumbled toward him, her knees seeming to bear some great suffering, stumbling with every step.

His heart ached, and he wanted to reach out and hold her, but the figure in the dream remained standing.

Why didn’t he hold her?

Couldn’t he see she was crying?

The dream abruptly ended.

Chu Mingheng turned his head and saw Lan Wu sleeping soundly. He reached out and touched her soft, warm cheek, his heart gradually settling.

After watching her for a long while, he finally looked away, turned, and rose from the bed.

The sky outside was still dark, the hour unknown.

The palace attendants waiting outside the hall saw His Majesty emerge on his own and hurriedly prepared to bow and greet him, but he stopped them with a gesture.

“To the Imperial Study.”

Chen Kangan, who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, quickly responded in a hushed voice, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He glanced up at the sky, thinking it odd—why had His Majesty woken at such an hour?

The candles in the Imperial Study were lit, brightening the hall.

Chu Mingheng took a ledger from the shelf behind him, flipped through the first few pages, and then began writing on a new page.

Before meeting Lan Wu, he had recorded the scenes from his dreams. These chaotic, unrestrained dreams felt as though they had truly happened, leaving him with an emptiness upon waking—until he found Lan Wu.

No, it was Lan Wu who had come to him.

“In the palace, which residence has a slanting willow tree by the entrance?” Chu Mingheng suddenly asked as he wrote.

Luo Yun, who was grinding ink beside him, immediately recalled one place.

“Your Majesty, in the rear palace, the side hall of Yifang Hall where Lady Shufei resides, Lejing Pavilion, has a slanting willow tree to the left of the entrance.”

Chu Mingheng’s eyes darkened.

Consort Shu…

So that was why Lan Wu was unhappy.

Because she had moved into Consort Shu’s palace and was under her control.

“Tomorrow, have someone uproot that willow tree in Lejing Pavilion,” Chu Mingheng said slowly, continuing to write.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And seal Lejing Pavilion.”

Luo Yun was taken aback for a moment before bowing in response. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Chu Mingheng flipped through the booklet from front to back, recalling the events from his dream.

Lan Wu was Lan Wu, yet not entirely the same.

At the very least, the current Lan Wu was more unrestrained toward him, unlike the cautiousness she had shown in the dream.

No matter what, he should not have let Lan Wu cry.

Chu Mingheng closed the booklet.

The dim candlelight flickered, casting human shadows onto the wall. A massive dark shadow enveloped everything until a hand reached out and extinguished the wavering flame.