"I will," Shu Mingye said without hesitation, setting his cup down with a quiet clink. He didn't even blink. His eyes were already on Linyue, like he was calculating how much teasing he could get away with before she threw the teapot at him.
Song Meiyu's face went bright. Her gaze snapped to Linyue. "Well?!" she demanded.
"I can think about it," Linyue said with a light shrug.
Another huge gasp. She looked like she might faint from shock and hope at the same time.
Shu Mingye's lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. "Take your time, Pie," he said softly.
He Yuying groaned and dropped his forehead into his palm. "Someone save us. It's happening again."
Shen Zhenyu, the peacemaker (or maybe just tired of third-wheeling a royal romance), tried to steer the conversation to safer waters. His voice was low and careful. "Then… did you ever think about revenge?" he asked, the question light but serious enough to change the mood.
Song Meiyu sat up straighter, breath hitching with excitement. Her eyes shone. "Right! Sister Linyue, I didn't know before. I thought he was a good emperor. But after what happened… he's the worst. He didn't deserve to live."
Song Meiyu slapped her palm on the table so hard that the teacups rattled. A splash of tea went flying across the surface, nearly landing in He Yuying's bowl. "If you want revenge," she announced with fire in her eyes, "then I'll definitely help you! After all, he's the reason Lingxu fell… and my family…"
Her words wavered at the end, her voice dipping softer, and for a moment, the mood shifted. But she pressed on anyway. "And come to think of it, brother Zhenyu, he was also the reason you lost your title and had to leave Shenlin. And Shu Wenxu helped him climb to the throne. Then Shu Wenxu became King of Shulin. And then…" Her voice trailed off as her gaze slowly turned toward Shu Mingye. "…Then your parents…" she whispered.
"They were innocent," Shu Mingye said flatly.
The room went silent again.
Song Meiyu blinked twice, then sat back and exhaled, her tone suddenly lighter. "So… we all share the same fate. In the most ridiculous, completely unexpected, messy, royal-family-drama kind of way."
Linyue gave a small nod. "Yeah, somehow."
He Yuying shifted in his seat, reaching for another dried plum. "Well," he said, chewing thoughtfully, "at least none of us can complain about a boring life. Betrayal, exile, tragic backstories, questionable life choices, and apparently romance. If we put this on stage, we'd sell out every night."
Song Meiyu snorted into her tea. "We'd need extra napkins for all the crying."
Shen Zhenyu gave a small, amused smile, the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth that counted as a full laugh by his standards.
Then, with a sudden spark of mischief, Song Meiyu lifted her cup high. "To shared trauma," she declared proudly.
Linyue raised her own cup and tapped it lightly against hers. "And terrible uncles."
Shu Mingye chuckled low in his throat and joined in with a slow lift of his cup. Even He Yuying raised his, though he muttered complaints about wasting good tea the whole time.
They drank together. For a heartbeat, it almost felt normal. Almost.
But Song Meiyu wasn't about to let the mood settle. She sat forward again with that sparkle in her eye, the one that usually meant trouble. "Wait a minute. No one answered my question!" she said, pointing at everyone in the room. "So? Did any of you ever think about revenge?"
Linyue glanced at Shu Mingye.
Shu Mingye looked back at her. For a moment, time felt still.
All this time, revenge had been the road he walked—a sharp, cold path lined with blood and silence. It had kept him alive, kept him moving forward, but it was a lonely path. And somewhere deep inside, one thought weighed heavier than the rest: if Linyue ever followed him too far down that road, she would bleed with him. She would suffer the same scars. And that… he wasn't sure he could endure. She had the same enemies. But he had always believed—always hoped—that she didn't carry the same kind of rage that consumed him.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he looked away. His voice was quiet at first, almost hesitant. "Pie…" Then, steadier, firmer, he said aloud, "I promised you. I wouldn't take the lives of the innocent. And I've always kept that promise."
His words weren't defensive. They were simply the truth, laid bare.
Linyue studied him, her eyes calm. Then she gave the smallest of nods. "Alright."
The sound of Song Meiyu's gasp shattered the heavy moment. "Wait… really? Then the rumors… were they all wrong?"
Shu Mingye turned to her slowly, his mouth curving into a smile that was far too lazy and far too dangerous at once. His eyes glinted, just sharp enough to make her regret opening her mouth. "Oh? Which one?"
Song Meiyu froze. She laughed weakly, words tumbling out too quickly. "Ah, nothing! Doesn't matter anymore! If Sister Linyue believes you, then I believe her!"
She gave him two thumbs up with the awkward smile of someone who definitely wanted to live another day, then slowly scooted back in her seat, just in case Shu Mingye had a sword hidden behind his teacup.
And just like that, without anyone really answering the original question about revenge, the group silently agreed that the story time was over. No more heavy topics. Peace reigned again. At least for five whole seconds.
Then Song Meiyu, unable to stand the silence, chirped brightly, "Brother Yuying! What about you?"
He Yuying didn't even lift his head. "What about me what?"
"You didn't go to that magic spring with us. But at least tell us about you, before you came to Xuanyi Pavilion!"
He let out a long, suffering groan. "What's there to tell?"
"Your family! Your life! Your hobbies! Or… or your secret backstory!" Song Meiyu said, leaning toward him.
He Yuying stared at her sparkly eyes and realized, with quiet horror, that he wasn't going to escape this time. "…Fine," he muttered. He slouched lower in his seat. "I'm originally from Luyan. My father was a soldier. One day, my mother ran off with a rich merchant and left us."
Song Meiyu gasped. The drama had begun.
"I was ten," he went on. "Then one day, my father went outside the wall to fight demons. I waited for him. One week passed. He didn't come back."
The group was silent now.
He Yuying kept going, voice flat, eyes distant. "So I went to the inner wall. I waited there instead. Still no sign of him. Maybe he was killed by the demons. Maybe he left, like Mother. Either way, he never came back."
There was a pause. Then he added, very dryly, "That's when Master Tian Mo showed up. He said I should wait for him at Xuanyi Pavilion." He raised an eyebrow slightly. "So I did."
"…Even though I knew he wouldn't come back anymore."
Song Meiyu's lips trembled. Her eyes turned glassy. "Brother Yuying," she said softly, "I didn't know you also have such a sad story…"
He Yuying sighed, already regretting everything. "Well, now you do. Are you happy?"
She sniffled. "Not really."
He Yuying passed her a napkin. "Stop crying, there's nothing to cry about."
Song Meiyu blew her nose loudly. "Too late."
Across the table, Shu Mingye looked entirely unmoved. Tears? Childhood tragedy? Emotional bonding? Absolutely not his problem. Before anyone could dive into another round of tragic confessions or accidentally adopt each other as siblings, Shu Mingye stood up. He ignored the confused stares aimed at him. Then, without asking and without a word, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Linyue's forehead.
Everyone froze.
Song Meiyu let out a small squeaking noise, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth.
Shen Zhenyu blinked slowly, his expression unreadable, like he wasn't sure if this was real life or a very awkward dream.
He Yuying raised both hands to cover his eyes. "Oh no," he muttered. "I didn't see anything."
Shu Mingye didn't care. He was far too busy being dramatic. Looking down at Linyue, his voice softened. "Pie, don't go anywhere without telling me. If you do it again…" His tone dropped lower, darker. "Remember what I promised. I'll definitely chain you to the bed and—"
He leaned even closer and whispered the rest directly in her ear.
Whatever he said, it made Linyue's ears and cheeks flare bright red. She turned her head and stared at him, her expression caught between murder and poking him straight in both eyes.
He only smiled back—smug, evil, entirely too pleased with himself. It was the kind of smile villains wore right before getting punched. Except this villain, annoyingly enough, was also extremely kissable.
Then, like he hadn't just whispered scandal straight into her ear and melted half her brain, Shu Mingye pulled a spirit transmission jade from his sleeve and placed it in her hand.
"Keep it with you. Always."
And with that, the feared, dangerous, and deeply annoying King of Shulin spun on his heel and strode out of the room.
Silence followed.
It lasted a good five seconds before He Yuying finally spoke in a deadpan voice. "I think I just witnessed a crime."
Song Meiyu, still sniffling from crying earlier, looked around helplessly. "What do we do now?"