Linyue froze mid-step.
Shanjun froze too, eyes going wide.
Shu Mingye's tone was calm and a bit cold. "I said leave." Then his gaze shifted toward her. She was still staring at the plate of moon dumplings like they were a long-lost lover. His voice dropped even lower. "Leave the dumplings."
Shanjun didn't argue. He held the plate out to Linyue with both hands, bowed quickly—probably to keep his head attached to his neck—and made a very strategic retreat. The door closed behind him with the softest click.
Now Linyue stood in the middle of the room, holding the plate. Her eyes sparkled. Her lips curved in satisfaction.
Shu Mingye looked at the plate. Then at her. Then back at the plate, his expression slowly darkening, as if trying to understand how steamed flour had somehow become his greatest rival.
Moon dumpling, he thought darkly.Who even gave it such a ridiculous name?
"I did," Linyue said, catching his look as if she had read his thoughts. "It's shaped like a crescent moon. And it has lotus paste inside. It's really good."
She sat down at the table and gently set the plate down. Then, perhaps still feeling slightly guilty for nearly crushing his foot the day before, she glanced up at him and asked, with royal generosity, "Do you want some?"
"Only if you say I'm the best."
Linyue froze mid-reach, dumpling halfway to her mouth. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. One elegant brow arched in disbelief.
Say he's the best? For sharing her moon dumplings? Shouldn't it be the other way around?
He stood there, tall and unshakable, looking every bit the untouchable king, except for the crease still etched between his brows. His mouth was set in a thin, grim line. Was he still mad? Still brooding? Still… jealous? Over dumplings?
The corners of Linyue's lips twitched. Oh no. This was funny. She shouldn't laugh. Absolutely shouldn't laugh. Instead, she smiled sweetly. Sweet enough to be dangerous. "Then it's all mine," she said, and popped the dumpling into her mouth in one victorious bite.
She bit into it happily, letting her eyes flutter closed for maximum dramatic effect. "Mmm. So soft. So sweet," she murmured.
Across the room, Shu Mingye stood perfectly still, staring at her. She sat there swinging her foot under the chair, perfectly relaxed, perfectly pleased with herself. She even hummed. A soft, tuneless hum.
A hum. While eating food that Shanjun had given her.
Shu Mingye felt his jealousy slowly roast him from the inside. His heart had not fully recovered from last night, from that kiss. A real one. The kind of kiss that meant something. At least, to him it had. And now here she was, sitting there as if nothing had happened, humming and munching dumplings as though his entire emotional existence wasn't dangling by a single, fraying thread.
Was she brushing it off? Pretending it meant nothing?
His jaw tightened as his gaze locked on her lips. Those lips. Soft. Cool. Sweet. Still slightly pink. Still chewing. Still—
He let out a slow, dangerous sigh. He was one breath away from committing a crime. A very specific, moon-dumpling-related crime. He stared a moment too long. And then he moved. It wasn't planned. It wasn't careful. It was pure Shu Mingye impulse. In three sharp strides, he crossed the room.
Linyue didn't even notice until the last step. She was too busy enjoying her second dumpling, her cheeks adorably full.
His hand caught her waist.
Linyue let out a tiny startled sound, her eyes going wide. The dumpling almost fell from her hand. "Wha—"
She never got to finish. Because Shu Mingye's lips were already on hers. Bold. Possessive. Jealous.
Her lips were parted—still mid-chew—but he didn't care. He kissed her like the moon dumplings were his mortal enemy and he needed to reclaim his territory.
Linyue froze, dumpling still in hand, completely stunned. His lips were warm, sure, faintly sweet, probably from the lotus paste she had just eaten. The kiss wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful. It was a declaration. A firm, undeniable, jealous declaration.
She blinked up at him, still half-shocked. And then finally, she swallowed.
Not the kiss. The dumpling.
He pulled away slowly. Just enough to let her breathe. Just enough to keep her exactly where he wanted her. His breath brushed her lips, warm and steady, teasing without even trying. His hands stayed at her waist, firm but careful, holding her in place. Their bodies remained close, so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.
Linyue stared at him, completely speechless. Her mind was still somewhere between the table, the kiss, and the dumpling she nearly dropped. He, on the other hand, looked entirely too calm. A little flushed, maybe, but still infuriatingly composed. Worse, he was smiling.
Shu Mingye leaned back just enough to look at her properly, his dark eyes gleaming with something wicked. His lips curved into that maddeningly perfect, smug smile.
"Yes," he said shamelessly, voice low and unbearably pleased. "It is indeed… delicious."
Linyue stiffened.
Delicious? Was he talking about the dumpling? The kiss? Her lips?? Or all of them?
Her heart gave a traitorous jump. Absolutely unfair. He looked far too pleased with himself for someone who had just stolen a kiss. No, two kisses. And now he was standing there like he deserved a crown and a standing ovation for it.
No. Linyue refused to lose. Absolutely not.
Her eyes narrowed a little as she tilted her head, letting a slow, sweet smile curve her lips. "Do you like it?" she asked, voice soft and innocent.
Shu Mingye raised a brow. "The dumpling?"
"No." Her voice stayed smooth, calm, perfectly innocent. "My lips."
Shu Mingye froze. She was so close. Her face just inches away. Smiling at him so sweetly, asking if he liked her lips with that calm, innocent voice that wasn't innocent at all.
It was illegal. Really. This version of Linyue was absolutely, utterly dangerous. A walking disaster for his self-control. And he was doomed. His heart was beating like a war drum. If it kept going like this, he wouldn't die from poison, or enemies, or even demons. He would die from her. The woman smiling at him like she didn't just set his entire soul on fire.
He forced himself to breathe, slow and deep. Focus. Do something kingly. Kings didn't get defeated by sweet smiles and one question. Kings didn't throw away dignity over a pair of lips. With great effort, he cleared his throat and looked away, refusing to meet her eyes again. If he did, he might kiss her a third time.
Then in the calmest, most serious voice he could manage, he said. "I think you already know the answer." But even as the words left his mouth, his ears—traitorous, betraying ears—burned bright red.
Linyue observed him quietly. His face was composed, perfect as ever. But his ears? Bright. Obvious. Glowing red. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. And this time, she understood. She wasn't emotionally stunted anymore. Thinking back, she had said some terrible things to him.
"Die standing properly."
"Prepare your funeral."
"Do you prefer burial or cremation?"
Yet, despite all that and despite her never telling him the truth about herself… not even her real name, not her past, nothing. He didn't demand answers, even when she knew he wanted them. He just stayed. Beside her. Without asking for anything in return. And now she knew one more thing: She didn't hate his touch. Didn't hate his embrace. Didn't hate his kiss. Actually, she liked them.
She said softly. "I'm sorry."
Shu Mingye's head snapped toward her.
She said… sorry?
His heart plummeted straight into his stomach. His hand, still resting on her waist, tensed slightly.
That was it, wasn't it? The rejection. She was letting him down gently. Of course she would. She was Linyue. Beautiful, calm, unreadable Linyue. The one person who never lied, but never gave too much either.
He tried to stay calm. Tried to keep his face from crumbling. His expression barely shifted, but inside… inside, it felt like something cold had settled deep in his chest. He should've known better. Someone like him—bloodstained, feared, too much—how could he deserve someone like her?
She was so beautiful. So clever. So untouchable. Precious in a way that didn't belong in his story. But he had been greedy. So greedy. Holding onto foolish hope. Keeping her close just a little longer. His fingers loosened from her waist, slow and reluctant.
He closed his eyes for a breath and said in quiet voice. "I understand."
The words came out resigned. Proud still, because he was Shu Mingye. But tired. Bone-deep tired.