Prince Bei Jing of the Red Chamber, starting from saving Qin Keqing

As for Shui Rong, after leaving the warm pavilion, he arranged for a maid to help Wang Xifeng get dressed, and then strolled towards his study, "Hanhui Hall".

It was nearly late afternoon, and the warm winter sun shone through the carved window lattice, casting dappled light on the blue brick floor of the study.

A faint scent of lilies burned on the table, quite different from the sweet, powdery smell in the warm room. It exuded a cool and solemn atmosphere, which I tried to use to calm my mind.

Shui Rong sat down behind the large sandalwood desk, where Zhao Zhong had already neatly arranged the several registers and gazettes sent by the Imperial Clan Court on the desk.

He casually picked up a register of the royal family's sacrificial rites, his gaze falling on the densely packed, tiny characters, trying to use the complicated official business to dispel the lingering image of the crimson figure in his mind.

However, the more he tried to calm himself, the clearer the image of the beautiful woman on the couch, with her captivating eyes and charming smile, appeared in his mind, refusing to leave. He couldn't help but sigh softly, his fingertips pausing on the register, ultimately somewhat absent-minded.

Just then, the curtain of the study was gently lifted, and a cool breeze carrying the faint scent of plum blossoms drifted in, instantly dispelling some of the stuffy heat.

Shui Rong subconsciously looked up.

Wang Xifeng was standing at the door, wearing a large, moon-white brocade robe with dark patterns—clearly her everyday clothes.

The brocade robe was already loose, and when worn by her, it made her figure appear even more petite and delicate, like a plum blossom wrapped in moonlight.

Her dress trailed on the ground, obscuring her feet and revealing only a small section of her slender ankles, which appeared and disappeared with her movements.

Her sleeves were so long that they almost covered the back of her hands. Only when she raised her hand could a glimpse of her fair, jade-like fingertips, like tender lotus roots, be seen.

Her hair had been recombed and loosely tied into a bun, with a few stray strands hanging down her temples. This contrasted with her cool, moon-white robe, creating a rare sense of vulnerability and brokenness.

Wang Xifeng clearly also found this outfit too strange, her face showing a hint of awkwardness and shyness. She took a deep breath and walked in gracefully. Her wide robes swayed gently with her movements, exuding an indescribable languor and charm, like a white fox who had strayed into the mortal world.

She stopped in front of the table, lowered her head slightly, and clasped her hands together in front of her abdomen. Her wide sleeves slid down, completely covering her hands, revealing only a small section of her fair wrists.

"Your Majesty, I have come to pay my respects."

Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz, with a barely perceptible tremor. In the quiet study, it sounded exceptionally clear, yet it stirred the heart.

Seeing her like this, Shui Rong slammed the roster in her hand onto the table with a "thud".

He was stunned.

The woman before him, having shed her usual flamboyant and extravagant attire and donned his clothes, resembled a white lotus touched by morning dew, her beauty exuding a breathtaking allure.

That moon-white brocade robe, which was his favorite, now looked as if it had been tailor-made for her, perfectly highlighting her innate allure.

Shui Rong composed herself, suppressing the turmoil in her heart, and a meaningful smile appeared on her lips.

He stood up, walked slowly to her, stared intently at her, and spoke in a deep, magnetic voice with a hint of amusement:

"Second Madam's attire... is quite unique. Wearing my clothes, it actually fits her better than it does me."

Upon hearing this, Wang Xifeng's cheeks instantly flushed red, like ripe cherries, and even her ears were tinged with a faint blush.

She unconsciously twisted her wide sleeves, lowered her eyes, and gently stroked the fabric with her fingertips. Her posture carried a touch of girlish innocence and shyness, completely different from the decisive and ruthless Second Madam Lian she usually was.

Seeing her like this, Shui Rong felt a tightness in her throat.

The person before me was dressed in my own clothes, their garments fluttering in the breeze, their skin as white as snow, and their languid and charming demeanor was so alluring it made one's soul almost fly away.

He forced himself to remain calm, knowing that if he continued to watch like this, he feared he would lose his "gentleman's" mask.

He suddenly turned around, his back to Wang Xifeng, and pretended to tidy up the books on his desk in order to cover up his lapse in composure.

His voice was slightly hoarse and tense, as he tried to maintain his usual composure:

"Miss Feng... please wear my attire for now. However... this is, after all, the Prince's residence, and there are many people around. You should not leave the residence casually, lest someone see you and spread rumors that could ruin your reputation. It's not too late to leave after your clothes have dried."

Then, Shui Rong took a sip of the cool tea on the table, and his eyes gradually regained their clarity, though a suppressed flame still lingered.

He turned around and looked at her, his tone calm yet concerned: "If there's nothing to do in the manor, you can walk around on your own to clear your mind. I've already instructed Zhao Zhong to find you a clever maid to guide you, so you don't get lost."

At this point, Shui Rong seemed to realize that his tone was too frivolous. His gaze fell on her flushed cheeks, and his heart stirred. He inexplicably raised his hand, wanting to touch her delicate skin and brush away a stray hair from her temple.

However, just as his fingertips were about to touch her temple, he suddenly came to his senses, abruptly stopping in mid-air. He then casually touched his sleeve and coughed lightly to cover up his momentary lapse in composure.

He suppressed the smile in his eyes, his expression regaining some of its usual coldness and authority, and his tone became more serious:

"However... there are some forbidden areas in the manor, which were bestowed by the late King or are important locations within the inner court, and are guarded by special personnel. Although you are a guest, Second Madam, the rules of this manor are very strict, and you must never go to those places. I hope you will be mindful of this."

His gaze became deep and sharp, devoid of the previous mockery, and instead exuded an undeniable sense of oppression, as if to say: "Although I treat you with courtesy, if you dare to cross the line, it will be disrespectful to the Royal Palace."

Wang Xifeng was taken aback by his sudden action and change in expression. In that instant, she clearly felt his fingertips approaching, her heart skipped a beat, and she subconsciously took half a step back, widening the distance between them.

When she saw him regain his haughty princely demeanor, Wang Xifeng breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, a strange sense of loss rose in her heart.

She composed herself, straightened her wide brocade robe, and revealed her usual shrewdness and competence. She curtsied to Shui Rong, her tone carrying a businesslike politeness, yet subtly revealing a hint of an elder sister's reproach towards her younger brother:

"Your Highness, please rest assured. I am not some reckless young man who doesn't know his place. I am well aware of the rules of this palace. Please rest assured, I will just walk around here and will not wander in, so as not to cause any trouble for Your Highness."

Her voice was clear and resonant, completely devoid of its previous softness. Her phoenix eyes shimmered, scrutinizing Shui Rong as she looked at her, as if to say, "Who was the first to act rudely?"

Shui Rong watched as she instantly switched back to her "Second Madam Lian" persona and couldn't help but secretly admire her.

This was the Wang Xifeng who had once held sway over the Rongguo Mansion. He smiled slightly, the gloom in his eyes dissipating, replaced by admiration and indulgence.

"That's good. Second Madam is a discerning person, and I naturally trust her."

Wang Xifeng knew very well that the Prince of Beijing's mansion was more than ten times larger than the Jia family mansion, with countless pavilions and towers.

As for those so-called forbidden areas, she's not stupid, so naturally she wouldn't provoke them.

But... watching Shui Rong turn around, sit back down at his desk, and pick up the register to look at it seriously, as if the person who had just fallen for her and looked at her with ambiguous eyes was not him at all, Wang Xifeng felt a strange sense of loss and unease.

Could it be that... even a beautiful woman like herself, dressed in his clothes and standing in front of him, is not as good as those boring and tedious documents?

The thought made Wang Xifeng feel a little wronged, and her competitive spirit rose up. She couldn't stand being ignored, especially when she was deliberately trying to be charming.

She moved gracefully to the table, her wide, moon-white brocade robe flowing gently across the ground like water as she walked, carrying a faint fragrance.

She didn't touch Shui Rong directly, but instead extended a slender finger and gently placed it on the register of the Imperial Clan Court. Her fingertip, carrying a slightly cool temperature, brushed against the back of Shui Rong's hand, then gently pressed it onto the register, stopping him from turning the page.

She tilted her head slightly, getting very close, her phoenix eyes shimmering with a captivating allure and curiosity, her voice sweet and cloying, carrying a hint of coquettishness.

"Your Highness... what precious thing are you looking at so intently? Why are you so focused on it, ignoring everyone standing right next to you? Do you think I'm less important than these few pieces of paper in your eyes?"

Shui Rong felt a slightly cool touch on the back of her hand, and her whole body stiffened as if she had been struck by an electric current.

He turned his head and looked at the pretty face so close to his. Her breath gently sprayed on his neck, carrying a faint scent of perfume mixed with plum blossoms, making his heart itch.

His gaze fell on the register that her finger was pressing on. It was a register of marriages for members of the imperial clan sent by the Imperial Clan Court, not some top-secret document concerning important military or national affairs.