Linyue opened the door to her chamber quietly.
Standing in the middle of the room was Song Meiyu, dressed in a flowing white gown. One hand delicately placed over her heart, the other holding a teacup.
As soon as Song Meiyu saw her, her eyes lit up. She gasped and rushed forward, grabbing Linyue by the arm.
"You're back! I was this close to fainting on the floor for dramatic effect!"
Linyue, unfazed as always, allowed herself to be dragged into the room.
Behind her, He Yuying stepped in as well, still protectively clutching the white silk bundle in his arms. Song Meiyu immediately pointed at it.
"What is that?"
Before anyone could answer, Shen Zhenyu stepped into the room, brushing invisible dust off his clothes.
He looked at Linyue. "How did it go?"
"Everything's done," Linyue said with a small, proud smile, as if she hadn't just kidnapped someone, looted an underground chamber, and robbed the imperial kitchen all in one night.
Shen Zhenyu, however, had the eyes of a hawk and they were currently locked on the bundle in He Yuying's hands. His brow twitched. "What is that thing?"
Linyue, expression perfectly calm and innocent, replied, "Leftover food. From the banquet."
Shen Zhenyu narrowed his eyes, arms folding. "Really."
He Yuying nodded eagerly. "Yes. Food. Nothing suspicious. Just buns. Perfectly legal buns."
Song meiyu gasped dramatically. "Did you… steal them?"
He Yuying blinked innocently. "It's leftover food. We're helping them eat it."
Linyue nodded. "Mhm. It would've been a waste."
Shen Zhenyu gave them both a long, judgment-filled look. Then he sighed. "Did Master Tian Mo teach you to be this shameless?"
Linyue didn't even flinch. "We learned from the best."
He Yuying nodded proudly. "Definitely. We can't disappoint our master."
Song Meiyu leaned in and took a sniff. "Well… it does smell good."
He Yuying walked to the table and began unwrapping his precious bundle. One by one, delicious treasures spilled out—dumplings, meat pies, sticky rice cakes, crispy pancakes, sweet cakes, steamed buns, golden-fried breads.
Shen Zhenyu stared at the growing mountain of food. "That's enough to supply an entire troop."
He Yuying and Song Meiyu immediately answered in unison: "It's not!"
Linyue, still calm as ever, reached for a pancake. "Anyway, if we didn't take them, they would've gone to waste. There were still a lot in the kitchen."
Shen Zhenyu massaged his temples. "I feel like I've joined a criminal snack syndicate."
He Yuying passed him a meat pie. "Welcome to the family."
Shen Zhenyu stared at the meat pie.
Linyue helpfully added, "It would be a crime not to eat them."
Shen Zhenyu sighed and finally took the pie. He took one bite… then chewed in silence… then slowly nodded. "… It is indeed a crime to waste food."
Across the table, Song Meiyu had already shoved two sweet cakes into her mouth. "Sister Linyue, you promised to tell me everything," she mumbled. "You can't distract me with food."
"I can definitely try," Linyue said, then pulled something from her robe and gently set it on the table.
It was the flute. Elegant, dark green jade, carved with swirling wind patterns.
Linyue casually grabbed a meat pie and began eating. "Sure, sure. I'll tell you. After I finish this."
Song Meiyu leaned in with sparkling eyes. "What is that flute, Sister Linyue?"
"Hidden weapon."
"Really??" Song Meiyu's jaw dropped.
Linyue nodded calmly and kept chewing.
Song Meiyu wasn't done. She slammed a sweet cake onto the table and pointed a finger at Linyue. "Now tell us! Why did you kidnap him? Why are you helping that demon king? And how do you know about the secret passage under the palace?!"
Linyue took a slow bite of her meat pie and chewed in peace. "One by one, Sister Meiyu," she said calmly, already bracing herself for incoming interrogation. The night wasn't over, not when Song Meiyu was in the room. And definitely not with snacks still on the table.
Sure enough, Song Meiyu gasped and clutched her chest. "And where is that demon king?! He didn't come back? He just vanished?!"
"He's heading back to Shulin," Linyue replied between bites. "Apparently some people decided to attack while he was gone. Demons are pouring in too."
Song Meiyu slapped both hands on the table. "What?? He just left us?! What about us?! What if the emperor suddenly changes his mind and throws us into prison?! I just got used to the bathwater!"
"Relax. We can leave too," Linyue said, waving a hand. "The emperor won't stop us. He already gave me the thing."
Song Meiyu narrowed her eyes. "Oh right, that." Her tone dripped with suspicion. "Are you seriously going to do what the emperor told you to do?"
Linyue had already told them about her private meeting with the emperor earlier. She didn't leave out the details—the request, the strange gift, the vague mission.
If it weren't for the fact that Linyue was calmly sipping tea while telling the story, Song Meiyu might've thought she made it all up on the spot. Honestly, she still wasn't sure Linyue didn't make it all up on the spot.
Of course, Song Meiyu didn't believe for a second that Linyue was actually going to follow the emperor's orders. First of all, she wasn't the real Princess Fu Yuxin. Second, she was Linyue—the unpredictable, logic-defying, chaos-summoning disaster who only followed one law: her mood.
And then, of course, Linyue decided it was time for a proper explanation. She stood up slowly with one hand still holding a meat pie. She looked extremely wise. And slightly full.
"Alright," she said, "let's start from the beginning. The kidnapping… because it was fun. Why I helped him… because I felt like it. The secret passage… someone told me. As for what the emperor wants me to do… I'll think about it."
Everyone stared.
Then Linyue clapped Brother Yuying on the back. "Brother Yuying will tell you the rest of the story."
He Yuying choked on a dumpling.
And without waiting for any reaction, Linyue turned, walked over to the bed, flopped onto it, and announced, "Now I'm going to sleep."
Song Meiyu stared at the bed with her mouth open, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's it?? Just like that??" Her voice cracked somewhere between disbelief and betrayal.
Linyue, of course, was already halfway buried under the blanket, one foot sticking out, completely unfazed.
The other three in the room—Shen Zhenyu, He Yuying, and the now very royal-looking Song Meiyu in her borrowed princess gown—exchanged a long, heavy silence.
"… Should we start making a new list of theories?" Song Meiyu finally asked, voice tired but determined.
"Yes," He Yuying nodded. "And this time, let's not leave out the possibility that she might just be doing all this for her own entertainment."
Shen Zhenyu sighed. He reached for a piece of fried bread on the table.
Song Meiyu sighed and reached for a paper scroll. It was going to be a long night. Again.
He Yuying was the first to speak, his tone completely serious for what he was about to say.
"What if she's just really, really bored?"
Shen Zhenyu stared at him. "You think all this… is because she's bored?"
He Yuying nodded. "Yes. Look at her face. That's not the face of a spy or a thief. That's the face of someone who wanted to see how far she could push the emperor before bedtime."
The group paused. All eyes drifted to the lump on the bed.
Linyue, eyes closed, gave a peaceful sigh.
… They began writing that down too.
Then Song Meiyu suddenly gasped, slamming both hands on the table. "I'm just saying… maybe she fell in love with the demon king Shu Mingye, but she doesn't know how to express it, so she helped him escape, and is now pretending like she doesn't care while secretly suffering in silence."
There was a long, stunned pause. Even the meat bun He Yuying was about to bite paused midair.
He Yuying slowly turned to look at her, expression flat. "That sounds more like you."
Song Meiyu grabbed the nearest cushion and launched it at his face. "So what if it does?! Love is universal!"
Shen Zhenyu cleared his throat. "Or," he added thoughtfully, "she's not in love at all. Maybe she's actually an old immortal pretending to be a young lady for fun."
Song Meiyu frowned. "Then why does she nap so much?"
"Maybe immortals just nap more," Shen Zhenyu said with a shrug. "A thousand years of existence must be exhausting."
The theories kept coming. By the time they were done, the scroll Song Meiyu had started was filled with increasingly strange and suspiciously dramatic theories: cultivator from secret sect with secret missions, secret twin of the real princess with memory loss, bored cultivator looking for drama, time travelling pastry chef (Song Meiyu insisted on that one).
In the end, Song Meiyu crumpled the scroll and tossed it aside with a huff. "Forget it. She's just Linyue. No logic applies."
And for once, no one argued with that.
Because no one, not even the stars or the moon, could predict what Linyue would do next.