After changing into a fresh robe—one Shu Mingye had, of course, offered to help her with again and was politely rejected—they walked out hand in hand. They looked like an overly elegant pair of troublemakers pretending very hard to be normal.
At the palace gate, her chaos family had already gathered.
Song Meiyu spotted them first and started waving. "Sister Linyue! We're going on a trip!"
Shen Zhenyu stood nearby, hands behind his back, managing to look like the one responsible adult among a group of unsupervised children. It was impressive, especially considering He Yuying was next to him, dragging a suspiciously heavy bag with both hands.
"Is that snacks?" Linyue asked, eyeing the bag.
"Emergency supplies," He Yuying said without a trace of shame. "For long-suffering cultivators."
Waiting for them were two plain carriages, each with a pair of sturdy horses and a quiet driver holding the reins up front. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screamed "royalty on the move."
Shu Mingye gestured casually toward them. "I tried not to make it too obvious. Better to avoid attention."
Linyue nodded. Of course. It looked plain on the outside, but she was sure half his shadow guards were hiding in nearby trees, crouched on rooftops, or pretending very convincingly to be clouds. Still, she wasn't worried. He was here. Her chaos family was here. She had a carriage, a bag full of snacks, and a smug villain holding her hand. What could possibly go wrong?
She took one last look at the palace behind them. The tall rooftops. The quiet courtyards. The hallways she used to sneak through at night. It had become her home. Somehow. Unexpectedly. And now she already missed it. But she would be back. She told herself that firmly. This wasn't goodbye. Just a very long, slightly dramatic, Shu-Mingye-sponsored road trip. With that thought in mind, she turned and marched toward the carriage with full determination. Or at least, she tried to. Because, of course, Shu Mingye couldn't resist showing off. The second she lifted her foot to step into the carriage like a normal, fully functioning adult—
"Not so fast," he said with that infuriatingly smooth voice.
And then—whoosh—Linyue was suddenly off the ground, scooped up sideways like some fragile princess with zero leg muscles.
"Seriously?" she muttered.
The inside of the carriage was nothing like its boring outside. There were soft cushions, low shelves for tea and books, and silk curtains swaying gently with the breeze.
Her chaos family boarded the other carriage. Hopefully.
Shu Mingye sat down with her still in his arms, as if letting go wasn't even on the table. She ended up sitting sideways on his lap, his arm snug around her waist. Honestly, she wasn't even surprised anymore. At this point, he stuck to her like glue enchanted by love spells and delusion.
Linyue tilted her head and gave him a small smile. "We'll be together every day in the future. Won't you get sick of me?"
Shu Mingye's expression froze. Then his brows pulled together in a deep frown. "I will never get sick of you. I never get enough of my Pie." His voice dropped quieter, softer, almost nervous. "Are you getting sick of me already? Am I being too clingy? Is it too much?"
His arm loosened slightly around her waist, like he was preparing for rejection, heartbreak, and possibly a dramatic leap off the moving carriage.
Wait. Wait.
She had been teasing. Just a little light flirting. And now this big, terrifying king was looking at her like she had stabbed him straight in the heart with a spoon. He looked genuinely sad. His voice even changed. There was no smugness, no teasing, just a worried, slightly crushed villain who might actually need a hug and a candy.
"I'm not getting sick of you," Linyue said softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "And I never will. I was just teasing you."
Then she rested her cheek against his chest. Right in that familiar spot she always liked, where his heartbeat was strong and steady, and his robes were warm and faintly scented with something dangerously addictive. Probably his ego.
Shu Mingye let out a long, quiet breath and stroked her hair with careful fingers. His eyes drifted shut. She didn't mean it. She wasn't pulling away. Not yet. But the ache in his chest didn't vanish so easily.
He had believed it. For a single sharp moment, he had really believed she might be starting to grow tired of him. That one day she would look at him and feel… nothing. Because that cursed array inside her was still there. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't his either. But it was there. Slowly and quietly, it was stealing her emotions, locking them away one by one.
He had searched. He had searched everywhere. From ancient scrolls to secret library collections. He had chased rumors and begged stubborn old men for answers. Nothing explained it properly. Nothing, except for one faded scroll left behind by her master.
He knew there would be a day. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe years from now. A day when she would truly turn distant. When she would stand beside him like a stranger. When she wouldn't remember how it felt to rest her head on his chest or laugh at his terrible jokes. He had told himself he could accept it. That he'd be fine. If that day ever came, he would not be a tragic, graceful man watching her walk away with quiet dignity. No. He would kidnap her. Chain her to the bed. Lock her in a beautiful room. Feed her peaches and poetry until she smiled again. That was how terrible and greedy he really was.
He held her tighter, burying his face in her hair. No one needed to know how terrifying his love truly was. Except maybe her. And even then, only in small, carefully measured doses.
Linyue sat in his lap like a worried dumpling, feeling very responsible for the gloom cloud now hovering over his ridiculously handsome royal head. He hadn't said a proper word since she made that stupid joke. She had teased him a little. Just a little. But who would have guessed the great King of Shulin was actually a secretly sensitive villain husband?
Linyue leaned closer, her voice soft and sweet. "My adorable future husband," she said gently, rubbing his back in slow circles like she was soothing a very large, very tragic cat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Mm," he muttered.
That was it. No movement, no glare, not even an eyebrow twitch. Her noble back-patting had earned her exactly one sound effect.
She scrambled for ideas. "I will give you kisses," she tried, keeping her tone bright. "Ten kisses as an apology."
"Mhm."
Still nothing. Just automatic hair-stroking.
"Okay, fine," she said, voice rising in desperation. "Unlimited kisses. Endless. Lifetime supply."
"Mm."
Great. She had just offered him the romantic version of a buy-one-get-infinite deal, and he still looked like a sad, abandoned poetry scroll. Just a few "mm"s and "mhm"s, like a broken puppet who could still stroke her hair but had lost his will to live.
This was bad. Very bad.
Linyue narrowed her eyes. Clearly, the villain needed a stronger bait. Desperate times called for desperate bribery. "How about…" she said slowly, "I give you unlimited time… extra… bonus… love credits... emotional coupons... whatever you call it in the future?"
That finally did something. One of Shu Mingye's eyebrows twitched.
Linyue held her breath. Victory was close.
At last he shifted, his hand pausing in her hair. His voice was low, suspicious, and far too interested. "What exactly does this bonus include?"
Linyue smiled, triumphant. "Anything you want. Except imprisonment. Or chaining me to bed. Or—"
"I want all of those," he said immediately.
She stared at him. "...You're back."
He smirked, tilting her chin up with one finger, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. "I was never gone. I was just waiting to see how far you'd go to win me over."
"You villain," Linyue muttered, smacking his chest lightly.
He caught her wrist, grinning. "And you like this villain," he said smugly. "You even called this villain adorable. Repeatedly."
Her ears grew warm. "That was strategic flattery," she insisted.
"Strategic or not," he whispered, leaning closer, "it is now recorded in this adorable future husband's heart forever."
Linyue narrowed her eyes and pouted her lips, the full, dramatic kind of pout that could melt glaciers or summon forgiveness from the heavens.
"Shameless," she declared.
Shu Mingye stared at her pout like it was the most serious political matter of the year. Those lips. Soft. Pink. Tempting. Utterly weaponized. In that moment, he felt like he could do anything: build her a palace, burn down a state, or more realistically, chain her to their bed and never let her leave again. With permission, of course.
"Pie," he said, voice dipping low and dramatic. "I'm still wounded. Deeply. Emotionally. Spiritually. I need more bribes."
Linyue sighed deeply, letting her hand flop against his shoulder as if she were the tragic one here. "I've already given you everything I could. Kisses, unlimited time with bonus, emotional coupons. I've run out of apology currency."
"The chain," he said, eyes gleaming.
Linyue stared at him. "Why are you so obsessed with that chain thing? Is that your preference?"