Linyue choked on her tea so violently that Song Meiyu nearly toppled over the table trying to pat her back. "Sister Linyue?!"
He Yuying didn't even glance up. He kept chewing steadily, like nothing in the world could disturb him, least of all romance disasters happening in front of him. Shen Zhenyu, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of his nose again, silently mourning the decline of civilized conversation.
Linyue's head snapped toward Shu Mingye so fast it was almost frightening. Heat rushed up her neck, flooding her face. Husband?? They hadn't even finished talking about marriage. He had skipped the whole discussion, the ceremony, her agreement, and vaulted straight into husband?
Her voice came out sharp, firm, and very nearly a squeak. "Absolutely not."
Shu Mingye leaned back, a slow teasing smile curving his lips. "Good," he said softly. "Because I taste terrible with soy sauce."
For a second, her brain just… stopped. She blinked once. Twice. Then she lowered her gaze to the steamed bun in her hand. She studied its round shape, the soft folds, the perfect texture. Anything. Anything at all to avoid looking at him. She was calm. She was composed. She was absolutely ignoring the dumpling king sitting beside her. Totally. Completely. Perfectly—
…Until he nudged her hand lightly with his elbow.
She turned her head and shot him a sharp glare.
Shu Mingye, of course, looked perfectly pleased. No guilt. No shame. Just that same smug expression that made her want to throw a teacup. Or herself. Preferably out of the window.
He met her glare without even blinking. Completely unfazed. If anything, he looked more entertained by the second.
Did she think her glare would scare him? Not a chance. To him, it wasn't even intimidating. It was adorable. The way her eyes narrowed, her cheeks puffed slightly in frustration, and her lips pressed into a thin line of silent outrage. Hopelessly, painfully adorable. He didn't even feel like teasing her anymore. He just wanted to...
Before she could yell or reach for something sharp, he leaned in. Gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Warm. Soft. Completely out of nowhere.
Linyue froze.
Then as if nothing had happened, he leaned back with a satisfied smile. That smile clearly said, "Yes, I kissed you. No, I'm not sorry. Yes, I will do it again."
Linyue picked up her tea with painfully slow, careful movements. Not because she was calm, but because she was trying very hard not to throw it straight into someone's smug, infuriating face.
Song Meiyu was now staring at them with her mouth hanging open.
He Yuying finally glanced up from his dumpling, still chewing lazily. "Am I the only one at this table who hasn't been kissed?"
Shen Zhenyu stood up without a word and walked to the window. He stared outside for a long moment, possibly considering jumping. Sadly, the window wasn't high enough to make that plan worthwhile.
And so, the awkward breakfast continued. The only sounds came from the clink of porcelain and the steady crunch-crunch of He Yuying munching on something pickled. Somehow, he was completely unaffected by everything—the marriage talk, the forehead kiss, the heavy tension filling the room. A true hero. Or a true menace.
Finally, after everyone had finished eating (and suffering emotionally), Shu Mingye set his cup down with a soft clink. He glanced around the room. "So, who's going to start explaining?"
Song Meiyu perked up instantly, eyes shining. "The marriage? You have to get the masters' permission first! And maybe an astrologer to check your compatibility. Oh! And we'll need red silk—"
Shu Mingye nodded slowly, like he appreciated her effort. But then he cut her off. "Alright. But I wasn't talking about that."
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. His smile stayed polite, but his tone dropped a few degrees. "I meant… where did all of you go the other day? Without telling me. Not even a whisper."
Linyue raised her hand. "I left a note," she said.
She paused, then added with the faintest smile, "It wasn't without notice."
Shu Mingye let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "That note? Sightseeing? You expect me to believe that?"
Linyue nodded seriously, then put on her most innocent face. The one that had absolutely no business being on someone so suspicious. The one that made her look like she had never told a lie in her life, had never climbed over a palace wall, or disguised herself as a fake princess, or nearly stabbed someone with a chopstick.
Shu Mingye narrowed his eyes at her. That exact expression she was wearing now, all calm, polite and suspiciously innocent had been responsible for at least five of his recent headaches.
"So… sightseeing?" he said slowly.
"Yes," Linyue replied, her voice steady as she gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"In the outer wall. With three heavily armed friends," Shu Mingye said flatly.
"There are pickpockets," Linyue replied helpfully.
He Yuying was still chewing something fried and ignoring the tension in the room. He gave a little nod of agreement—possibly to the food, not the conversation.
Shen Zhenyu returned from his near escape at the window and sat down again with a quiet sigh. He raised one hand and gave a weak thumbs-up. Possibly in support. Possibly in surrender.
Song Meiyu, on the other hand, was already halfway through mentally planning wedding decorations and didn't even seem to register the conversation at all.
Shu Mingye's gaze swept over all of them, lingering longest on Linyue.
She smiled back, calm and unbothered.
He sighed. Clearly, the real crime here wasn't the pastry marriage. It was that no one had invited him.
His voice dropped lower, edged with danger. "So, no one wants to tell the truth, huh?"
That was when Song Meiyu's hand shot up. "I can explain!" she chirped, already halfway to standing.
Everyone turned to Song Meiyu. She stood there beaming, bright as the sun, absolutely glowing. They could only hope her "explanation" didn't involve another runaway chicken or exploding herbs.
And then, she began.
An hour passed.
There were hand gestures. Many. There were dramatic pauses so long He Yuying fell asleep with his eyes open. There were sound effects. At one point, she imitated a squirrel with such dedication it stunned the room into silence.
He Yuying clapped once. No one knew why. Shen Zhenyu aged at least five years. Linyue drank two cups of tea in total silence and didn't blink the entire time. It was unclear if her spirit was still in her body.
Finally, Song Meiyu finished with a big, proud smile, arms stretched wide like she had just saved the world.
Shu Mingye leaned back in his chair, his expression tight like his brain had just been stuffed with too many unnecessary details. He rubbed his temples slowly, as if massaging the headache out of his soul.
"So…" he said at last, his voice slow and strained. "You asked Shanjun to steal crossbows, iron bolts, even horses. You snuck out of the palace like thieves. Then you went outside the wall to prove your theories?"
Linyue raised a hand. "Not steal. Borrow. The others already put everything back where it was." She paused, then added lightly, "While I delivered the plants to you."
Song Meiyu nodded hard. "We returned everything! Except the iron bolts we used," she said proudly.
Shu Mingye just stared at them. His voice cracked with disbelief. "Do you think that was the problem?!"
Linyue blinked. "Well… we were prepared. And we're back. With all our limbs intact. We even got the plants. Possibly the cure."
Shu Mingye stared at her, completely speechless. His voice came out low, tight, almost dangerous. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Linyue met his gaze. "Less people meant less risk. We could protect ourselves. If anything happened, we could always escape."
Shu Mingye let out a long, tired sigh. He wasn't even angry anymore. Just… exasperated.
"Pie…" he said softly, "you really don't have any faith in me, do you?"
Linyue hesitated. Then carefully, she said, "...I do." She looked at him directly, her eyes softened. "But I have even more faith in me."
From the side, He Yuying muttered through a mouthful of pickled vegetables, "She's not wrong."