Shu Mingye looked like he might cry, strangle someone, or marry her on the spot, or maybe all three, in that order. His jaw tensed. His fingers drummed against the table once, like he was weighing the exact number of guards it would take to keep her from ever sneaking out again.
He knew Linyue had lived outside the walls for at least nine years. Maybe even longer than she had lived inside. If anyone could survive out there, chasing down unknown plants, and returning looking mildly windblown at best, it was her. But still, she hadn't told him. That stung more than he expected.
Out of nowhere, as if she hadn't noticed the heavy air in the room, Song Meiyu turned to Linyue with a bright, bouncing smile. "Sister Linyue," she chirped, "didn't you promise to tell us everything? About you. About that scary masked man. About… everything."
Linyue paused. She had promised. And now, she couldn't keep hiding things. Not from them. Not from him. She wasn't alone anymore. And that made all the difference.
She turned to Song Meiyu, her voice gentle. "Sister Meiyu, what did you dream of that day? After drinking the water from the spring?"
Song Meiyu's smile faltered. Slowly, it slipped away as her eyes widened in surprise.
The room shifted. Something serious was unfolding, something they hadn't expected. Even He Yuying looked up from his last bun, which was rare, because very few things beat the last bun.
Shen Zhenyu straightened in his seat. Shu Mingye didn't move at all. He simply watched Linyue, his expression unreadable, but his gaze steady and sharp.
Song Meiyu swallowed. Her hands curled slightly in her lap. When she spoke, her voice was quieter than before. "Does it… does it have something to do with all this?"
Linyue looked at her gently. "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it."
Song Meiyu dropped her gaze to her lap. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve. "No. It's not that… but it's not a good story."
Her voice had lost its usual brightness. Which was alarming, because Song Meiyu was usually made of 80% sunshine and 20% herbal tea.
Then, out of nowhere, Shen Zhenyu cleared his throat and asked, "Should I tell mine first?"
Song Meiyu's head shot up. Her eyes sparkled. "Yes! Let's all tell each other our dreams!" she said, her tone suddenly bouncing again.
Linyue's lips curved into a small smile. "Alright."
And just like that, the tension in the room softened. It no longer felt like they were about to fight, or cry, or throw buns at each other. It felt more like… a family. A very strange family. Possibly cursed. But still hers.
Shen Zhenyu sat straighter, folding his hands neatly on the table. "I dreamed about something that happened thirteen years ago. I was eleven. Back then, I was still Crown Prince of Shenlin. Emperor Yun still ruled. And the Third Wall still stood."
Song Meiyu leaned in so far she was practically part of the table. Her eyes sparkled dangerously. Her nose twitched like a hound catching the scent of premium gossip. She clearly smelled a good story brewing. Possibly with swords and family drama. Her favorite kind.
"My father, King Shen, was invited to a banquet in the imperial palace," Shen Zhenyu started. "The emperor arranged it to thank him for helping Lingxu defend the Third Wall. My father brought me along. It was my first visit to the imperial palace. My mother came too. My little brother was still too young, so he stayed home."
"And then?" Song Meiyu asked eagerly.
Shen Zhenyu glanced at her, almost amused.
Across the table, Linyue smiled faintly. She remembered that banquet too. She hadn't been invited, of course. She was still young back then. Not quite a proper imperial princess. Not quite anything yet. But she had snuck a peek through the banquet hall window. Mostly because the pastry tower looked life-changing.
Shanjun, the world's best partner in crime and part time bodyguard, had helped. Mostly by knocking over a tray to cause a distraction, then sneaking out sweet buns and dumplings while no one was looking. Afterward, they shared the spoils and ate together in the corner. That was the first time she saw Shen Zhenyu—quiet, proper, very princely. She remembered thinking, Wow, he doesn't even blink. Like a statue. A well-dressed statue.
Shen Zhenyu continued, completely unaware of how pastry-related his past was to Linyue. "At that time, Fu Jingtao was still a general. He also attended the banquet."
Song Meiyu nodded. "Right! Before he became emperor, he was that famous general who traveled around the states and fought demons outside the walls. People loved him back then."
"Yes," Shen Zhenyu replied with a small nod. "The banquet went well. Emperor Yun praised my father's bravery and gave him rewards. From gold, armor, horses. Father was happy. Everything was peaceful."
Song Meiyu leaned in, eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper. "This sounds too nice for a dream. There must be a but somewhere."
Shen Zhenyu nodded. His voice remained calm, but there was something heavier in it now. "Right. After the banquet ended, my father stayed behind to talk with Emperor Yun. My mother and I returned to our guest chamber. But not long after, I saw her come out again."
He paused, eyes lowering. "I thought she was going to find Father, since he hadn't come back yet. So I followed her quietly. But instead of heading toward the banquet hall, she went the other way… to the back of the courtyard."
Song Meiyu's eyes grew even rounder. "Ominous courtyard moment," she mumbled under her breath.
Shen Zhenyu gave her a brief look. It said, "I heard that." Then he went on. "There, she met someone. Someone wearing a black cloak. They… exchanged something. I couldn't see clearly. I didn't know who that person was or what they were doing."
Song Meiyu gasped so loudly that He Yuying glanced up in alarm. "Could it be…?" she breathed.
"Yes. I didn't know back then. It was the love letter Yuying accidentally stole last time."
"At that time," Shen Zhenyu continued, "Father returned. I don't know if he saw what I saw, but that night… they quarreled. And after we went back to Shenlin, everything changed. Father grew distant. From her. And from me."
His voice was still calm. "Before that, he always guided me. Trained me. Loved me. But afterward…" His jaw tensed slightly. "He began to treat me… differently. Like I was a thorn in his eye. Like I was the one who betrayed him. He started to dislike me. Then hate me. Even… despise me."
Song Meiyu's lip trembled. "But why? That wasn't your fault!" she cried, tearing up. "You were just a little dumpling—I mean, boy!"
Linyue reached out to hand Song Meiyu a napkin.
Meanwhile, He Yuying silently reached out and pushed a dumpling onto Shen Zhenyu's plate.
"It's mushroom," he said. "For emotional support."
Shu Mingye didn't say a word. He just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, looking like he was either meditating or planning murder. If he had thoughts, he wasn't sharing them. Which, of course, made him all the more annoying.
Shen Zhenyu gave a faint smile. "Anyway," he said softly, "after that banquet, everything fell apart. My father stripped me of the crown prince title and made my little brother the new heir."
Song Meiyu gasped again. Her poor heart was clearly not designed for royal drama this intense.
He Yuying finally paused mid-chew, which was rare enough to make the dumpling on his chopsticks look confused.
"At that time," Shen Zhenyu continued, "I didn't understand. I tried to smile, to behave. But the people around me started to disappear. One by one. Guards, teachers, friends. Even my mother never came to see me again."
He paused, and Linyue noticed how his fingers tapped lightly against the table, like he was keeping time with a memory too old to forget. She didn't say anything, but she quietly placed another dumpling on his plate beside the mushroom one. This one was shrimp. For extra emotional support.
"Everyone focused on my younger brother. He was bright and well-behaved. Everyone liked him. One night, I overheard two servants talking. They said…" He hesitated, just for a second. "They said I wasn't the king's son. Just the result of an affair."
Song Meiyu slapped both hands over her mouth. "What?! That's… That's… That's terrible!" she squeaked, eyes wide, nose red.
He Yuying finally swallowed and muttered, "Yup. Classic royal scandal."