“Miss!” Zhizhu wasn’t a fool; she caught the teasing in Su Mingyu’s tone at once.
Su Mingyu curled one corner of her mouth. “Alright, let’s get back. I’ve been away too long — I’ve missed home.”
Zhizhu wiped her eyes and murmured assent. She hooked her arm through Su Mingyu’s as they walked inside, but after only a few steps she froze.
Su Mingyu looked up and saw Tang Ziyan standing there. It had been a long time. “Young Master Tang,” she said easily, “it’s been a while — you’re as striking as ever.”
Tang Ziyan’s mouth lifted at the corner. “Princess, you’ve certainly caused quite a commotion these past few days.”
“Are you laughing at me?” Su glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you’d already left.”
“How could I, not until I saw you return safe and sound?” Tang’s voice was as gentle as ever. Su smiled. “I’m worn out today. Rest a couple of days and I’ll make a point of inviting you to a proper meal.”
He bowed slightly and stepped aside, letting them pass.
They walked from the main gate up to Su Mingyu’s chamber. She sat on the solid wooden stool and her voice turned cool. “Gu Ruobai, go to the study. Close the door when you leave — I’ll come for you in a while.”
Gu Ruobai had seen that look before and understood at once. His expression flickered, he nodded, and obediently left.
The door clicked shut. Zhizhu had already spread out the bedding. “Miss, you should rest. I’ll go prepare your favorite supper.”
“No.” Su Mingyu’s face tightened in a way that didn’t suit sleepfulness. “Zhizhu, come here. Tell me honestly — what’s going on between you and Tang Ziyan?”
Zhizhu’s ears flushed; she couldn’t meet Su’s eyes. She shifted, shy and awkward. “N—nothing.”
“You’re that embarrassed and you say it’s nothing?” Su Mingyu was not foolish — the way Zhizhu had looked at Tang earlier had said plenty.
Pressed, Zhizhu bowed her head until she almost looked at the floor. “It’s not— it’s nothing like that, Miss. I like Qingfeng; I couldn’t possibly—” She shook her head so hard it was almost comical. “Someone like Young Master Tang is far above me.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re blushing like a beet and hiding your face,” Su remarked with an arched brow. Zhizhu’s behavior was giving away more than she wanted.
Zhizhu hugged her knees and, in a small voice, pleaded, “Miss, I’ll only tell you. Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
Su Mingyu’s eyes narrowed in amusement, but she nodded. “Speak.”
Zhizhu swallowed and felt the heat crawl up her neck. “I’ve been managing the household while you were away. Everything fell to me — the prince and Mu Yi were always busy, and I had to take care of everything.” She pressed her lips together. “Young Master Tang noticed I was struggling and offered help. He gave me advice, came by to see how things were going…”
Su Mingyu listened with the patient interest of someone already filling in the gaps.
“One day when I was checking the accounts,” Zhizhu continued, “Young Master Tang brought me tea. When I reached to take it, I accidentally spilled it — the books got soaked through. When I tried to rewrite the ledgers, my hand was burned and I couldn’t hold a brush properly. So… Young Master Tang stayed and helped me redo the accounts all night. We worked together until dawn.”
At that, everything clicked into place for Su Mingyu. The late-night solitude of a man and a woman alone in a room — by their era’s standards, it was enough to set tongues wagging and reputations at risk. If Tang had decided to, many would see reason for him to take Zhizhu as a wife; and if the story leaked, Zhizhu’s name would be ruined.
Su Mingyu exhaled slowly. “I thought you’d done something scandalous,” she said with a dry little laugh. “You’re actually adorable. Don’t worry — it’s nothing. I’ll cover for you.”
Relief burst from Zhizhu in a single breath. “Thank the heavens,” she whispered. “It’s been like a stone on my chest, Miss. I couldn’t bear it.”
Seeing the girl’s spirits lift, Su Mingyu shook her head with a touch of exasperated affection. “Alright. Now that that’s settled, you can go. I still have matters to attend to.”
“You’re still working?” Zhizhu’s face was anxious. “Miss, you should rest — so much has happened lately.”
A thought occurred to Zhizhu and she couldn’t help but lean in, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper. “Miss… people outside are saying… you want to divorce the Prince?”
Su Mingyu blinked, as if the notion had slipped her mind, and batted her eyes innocently. “Who… who said that?”
“It’s what everyone’s saying,” Zhizhu fretted. “I know I have no right to speak, but… men have always taken more than one wife. They—” Her voice trailed off, worried for the woman she served more than for court gossip.