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

Actually, the water-soluble substance did not sink.

Those who practice martial arts year-round have heightened senses far beyond those of ordinary people. As soon as Wang Xifeng stepped into the Warm Fragrance Pavilion of the Prince of Beijing's mansion, the sound of her lowered skirt rustling with her breath reached her ears. Before she even opened her eyes, her mind was already awake.

The thought of her voluptuous and alluring body stirred a restless energy within him in the early morning, a heat rising to his core, making him somewhat uneasy.

Shui Rong muttered a curse under her breath for being "disrespectful," quickly put on a moon-white silk-lined jacket to cover her embarrassment, straightened her clothes and jade belt, and then gently pushed open the vermilion door of the inner room to go out.

He did not appear immediately, but first peeked through the gap in the window screen of the outer room of Nuanxiangwu—Wang Xifeng was sitting alone on a pear wood chair, her hands clasped on her knees, her brows slightly furrowed, and the beads hanging from her hair ornaments swaying gently, adding to her pitiful appearance, her expression full of trepidation.

Shui Rong stared at her face for a moment, his throat bobbing slightly, before he looked away, thinking to himself, "Just in time." He then quietly retreated back into the house, straightened his dark blue satin robe, and made sure his appearance was impeccable before walking steadily towards the outer room.

"Is it Second Madam Lian?" His voice was not loud, but it had a steady and magnetic quality, like a warm stove in winter, comforting the heart.

Wang Xifeng suddenly stood up, like a startled swallow under the eaves, hastily adjusting the red-gold and kingfisher feather hairpin at her temple.

She looked up and met Shui Rong's smiling eyes. His gaze was as warm and gentle as jade, and her heart skipped a beat. A hint of shyness crept into the light that lit up her eyes, and she quickly curtsied, her voice softer than usual: "Greetings, Your Highness."

Shui Rong spoke with a gentle smile and a soft tone, which softened the chill of the twelfth lunar month: "Second Madam Lian has arrived so early. I suppose you haven't had your morning tea yet? On an empty stomach, even if you take medicine, it won't be very effective. Be careful not to harm your spleen and stomach."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Zhong, the steward standing under the corridor, bowed and replied, "This servant understands. I will immediately send the maids to Qin Fang Xuan to prepare breakfast." After saying this, he quietly withdrew to make the arrangements.

At this time, the sky was still covered with a layer of pale light, the sun had not yet risen, and the chill still lingered on the window frame.

Shui Rong's gaze fell on Wang Xifeng's knee-length scarlet satin jacket. Her brows furrowed slightly, and her tone carried a hint of reproachful concern: "You came in such a hurry that you forgot to wear warmer clothes. Be careful not to catch a cold."

Having said that, he turned around and took down a black mink coat with a silver fox fur collar from the sandalwood coat rack hanging on the wall of Nuanxiangwu. The fur was glossy and smooth, and the fur was fluffy, clearly a top-quality item.

He stepped forward and naturally draped the mink coat over Wang Xifeng's shoulders. His fingers inadvertently brushed against her neck and shoulders, touching a delicate warmth. His fingertips paused slightly as the warmth, mixed with a faint scent of ambergris, instantly enveloped her.

Wang Xifeng's shoulders stiffened, and she subconsciously wanted to dodge, but she was a beat too slow. She just lowered her eyes and let him tie her clothes. The redness on the tips of her ears became even more intense, and she even breathed a little softer.

Such intimate gestures, without the slightest transgression, yet revealing affection. Although the two did not hold hands, as they walked side by side toward Qin Fang Xuan, their steps were inexplicably in sync, their clothes brushing against each other, revealing an undercurrent of emotion.

Wang Xifeng lowered her eyes, feeling the warmth on her shoulder and the presence of the person beside her. Her heart, which was already restless at the sight of him, was now like a fluttering deer, slowly surging, and even the tips of her ears turned slightly red.

Occasionally, a cold wind would seep in from under the eaves, and she would instinctively veer towards the warmer side, which happened to be right next to Shui Rong. He seemed to notice, slowed his pace slightly, and deliberately moved closer to her, shielding her from most of the cold wind. His gaze swept over her reddened ear tips, and the smile in his eyes deepened.

Before long, the two arrived at the flower hall of Qinfang Pavilion—this place was originally where the Prince's Mansion received his close and distinguished guests. The furnishings were elegant and there was no sense of extravagance or vulgarity.

By this time, the maids had already set out breakfast, which consisted of a few delicate side dishes, a basket of crab roe buns, and a bowl of rock sugar lotus seed porridge—all common home-style dishes.

Shui Rong reached out and gently tugged at Wang Xifeng's sleeve, his fingertips touching the lotus pattern embroidered on it. The fabric was delicate, and he rubbed it between his fingers, his tone sincere yet tinged with personal concern: "As you know, I don't usually like those extravagant and luxurious displays. These simple meals, though not as grand as a nobleman's feast, are clean and palatable. I hope Second Madam won't find them offensive."

Wang Xifeng felt a jolt in her heart as he pulled her sleeve. She wanted to pull away but felt it would be abrupt, so she sat down with her arm stiff and her fingertips clenched the handkerchief tightly.

Wang Xifeng quickly looked up, a polite smile on her face, her tone respectful yet familiar: "Your Highness is too kind. Such exquisite home-style dishes are much more to our liking than the lavish banquets in our mansion."

Just then, a soft but clear "gurgling" sound broke the silence—it turned out that Wang Xifeng had gotten up early in a hurry and her stomach was already empty. At this moment, attracted by the aroma, she couldn't help but make a noise.

Her face instantly flushed crimson, like a ripe cherry. She clutched her handkerchief tightly, feeling helpless, wishing she could disappear into the ground, not daring to even lift her head.

Shui Rong didn't seem to care at all, only a hint of playful tenderness in his eyes. He picked up a crab roe bun and handed it to her, deliberately avoiding her hand with his fingertips. He placed the bun in her bowl, took one for himself, and took a bite. His gaze was fixed on her, and he couldn't hide the emotions in his eyes. His tone was teasing: "Eat up. Being embarrassed on an empty stomach is harder to bear than being hungry."

Shui Rong, however, seemed unconcerned, a hint of playful tenderness in his eyes. He picked up a crab roe bun and offered it to her, then took one for himself and took a bite, his gaze occasionally drifting towards her figure.

Wang Xifeng was so intelligent and quick-witted, how could she not notice his gaze?

The warmth and appreciation in his gaze felt like lukewarm water washing over her heart, making her secretly delighted. However, she maintained the poise of a respected grandmother, taking small bites of the bun, chewing slowly and gracefully.

After taking a couple of bites, she glanced up at Shui Rong, only to meet his unwavering gaze. She quickly lowered her eyes again, her fingertips stained with porridge, and hurriedly wiped them away, her voice barely audible: "Your Highness..."

After a moment, Shui Rong put down his silver chopsticks, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

His gaze remained fixed on her face, and only after she swallowed her food did he casually ask, "When will your uncle, Wang Ziteng, return to the capital? He's been stationed in the southwest for three to five years now, hasn't he?"

As he asked her questions, he gently tapped the rim of the teacup with his fingertips, his eyes revealing a hint of inquiry, yet he spoke very slowly, afraid of disturbing her.

Upon hearing this, Wang Xifeng paused in her actions, looked up at Shui Rong, and seeing that he looked serious and not joking, she put down her chopsticks, suppressed her shyness, and softened her voice, saying with a hint of certainty: "Your Highness, I just received a letter from my uncle a few days ago, saying that his business in the southwest has been settled and he should be able to return for a reunion before New Year's Eve."

After saying that, she added, as if afraid he would worry, or as if she was deliberately trying to make conversation: "The letter also mentioned that he brought some rare treasures from the southwest. I will have Jia Lian pick out some that suit his taste and send them over to the Prince later."

"Um."

Shui Rong responded slowly, her fingers holding the teacup tightening slightly, a thoughtful look flashing in her eyes. She then looked at Wang Xifeng, her tone softening slightly: "There's no need to worry about Zhenbao. As long as your uncle returns to the capital safely, that's enough."

He knew very well that Prince Teng—the real backer and big shot behind these four great families—held military power and had connections throughout the court and the country. Even he, the Prince of Beijing, had to be careful in dealing with him and dared not show the slightest disrespect.

But looking at the woman's docile appearance, his consideration was mixed with a selfish desire not to let her get involved in the court's strife. His gaze fell on the mink coat on her shoulder and he was somewhat lost in thought.