Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 22

The attic was silent as a grave.

Yuan Zheng broke the silence first, speaking up for Juchen with a conciliatory smile. “Your Highness, you weren’t well, because you weren’t our classmate. If I recall correctly, you only came to the princess’s estate to escape the summer heat for two months.”

Song Mi countered, “Lu Feng wasn’t your classmate either, and he stayed even shorter than I did.”

Yuan Zheng forced a smile. “Lu Erlang he’s always been overly familiar with everyone. You know how he is…”

Song Mi curled his lips. “And what about me? Just because he talks more than I do, I should be treated differently?”

Though his tone was light, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was cold, and an oppressive chill seemed to emanate from him, as if he had no intention of letting anyone else speak for the matter he was waiting for one person to address him directly.

Yuan Zheng was completely at a loss and could only shoot Juchen an apologetic glance. Was he actually taking this seriously? Brother, I can’t help you any further.

Juchen had no choice but to steel herself and stand up. “It’s my fault. I forgot.”

She bowed slightly in apology, her manners impeccable, as if she and Song Mi were complete strangers. Yet she couldn’t help defending herself. “Though we once lived under the same roof… Your Highness is like snow atop a mountain, the moon in the sky I didn’t dare presume familiarity.”

Everyone present shared the same sentiment. Naturally, they understood her reserved behavior.

But Song Mi only said coolly, “Clearly, you were the one ignoring me.”

If he remembered correctly, during his time at the princess’s estate, she had avoided him at every turn, making him wonder if he was some kind of harbinger of misfortune.

His relentless questioning felt like an outright accusation. Juchen bit her lower lip, gripping the hem of her robe, her ears turning red.

The two of them stood locked in this awkward standoff until Xu Yang finally intervened with a soft chuckle.

She looked at Juchen. “I remember you saying something quite different back then.”

Juchen blinked. “What?”
Xu Yang turned to Song Mi with a grin. “When I asked her what she thought of you, she said, ‘A good-for-nothing old man who just fishes all day!'”

Juchen: “…”

A brief silence fell before the room erupted in laughter, everyone teasing her for her boldness.

Juchen shot Xu Yang a reproachful look, unsure whether to thank her for piling dirt onto her already half-buried corpse. Finally, she took a deep breath and resigned herself to the situation. “He did spend the whole summer fishing at the princess’s estate!”

She had merely spoken the blunt truth no one else dared to voice.

Sidelong glances darted toward Song Mi. The coldness in his expression faded, and he seemed to brighten, not denying it. “I was fishing.”

Juchen lifted her chin. “See?”

But Yuan Zheng couldn’t resist asking, “How did you know he was fishing the whole time?”

Truly, husband and wife were of one mind. Juchen was starting to wonder whose side they were really on.

Surprisingly, Song Mi spoke up first, explaining for her. “She spent the whole summer reading by the waterside pavilion.”

Juchen’s eyes widened. She never expected never dreamed he would actually remember her from back then!

Yuan Zheng laughed in disbelief. “Reading? Really?”

Juchen swallowed. “Why not?”

“I just don’t buy it.” Yuan Zheng narrowed his eyes at her.

Back then, if Juchen didn’t prevent him from covering up skipped classes during breaks, didn’t prepare cheat sheets for exams, or didn’t make knee pads for punishment kneeling, he would have been burning incense to thank the heavens. How could she possibly have obediently studied?

Juchen’s face flushed red as she barely concealed the guilt in her tone, “Believe it or not.”

Yuan Zheng’s smile deepened, about to expose her further when Juchen handed him a pastry, “Here, your favorite dragon beard cake.”

She shoved it directly into his mouth, effectively silencing him.

Yuan Zheng chewed helplessly, his eyes softening with resigned tenderness.

Song Mo observed this interaction quietly, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around his cup’s rim as he watched their intimate exchange.

Lin Zongbai noticed immediately, seeing the whitening of Song Mo’s fingertips. He smoothly redirected Juchen’s attention from Yuan Zheng by asking, “Little Chen, do you still work with ceramics?”

Juchen paused, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

After a brief silence, she shrugged with a smile, “My mother disapproves.

Says it’s a frivolous distraction.”

As night deepened, the summer insects’ soft chirping rose from the grass by the waterside pavilion.

Reluctant to end this rare reunion, Xu Yang glanced outside and proposed a group game. Never one to summon servants during gatherings, the attic had no attendants. When Xu Yang suggested pitch-pot, the group obligingly rearranged the tables themselves into a circle to clear space.

But the game equipment wasn’t stored in the attic.

While directing the table arrangement, Xu Yang called to Juchen, “Ah Chen, the double eared pot is in its usual place fetch it for us.”

Remembering the bronze vessel’s weight, he added, “Yuan Zheng, help her.”

Yuan Zheng, having just moved tables at Xu Yang’s bidding, scoffed, “Do I look like I can be in two places at once?”

Lu Feng, adjusting chairs nearby, glanced over and chuckled, “There’s another idle person here.”

Xu Yang wouldn’t dare order Song Mo around.

Song Mo, arms folded, looked at Juchen, “Let’s go.”

Juchen: “…”

Yuan Zheng, recalling their earlier tension, interjected protectively, “Your Highness, Ah Chen won’t be much help.”

His implication that the pot didn’t require both a man and woman to carry was logical. But his obvious concern that Song Mo might mistreat her drew a cold smirk from the prince. “Yet this prince doesn’t know the way,” Song Mo said icily, each word deliberate with displeasure. He rarely used royal pronouns or rank this was pointed.

Undeterred, Yuan Zheng continued rearranging furniture, “Then wait till I finish.”

Before he completed the sentence, Song Mo had already steered Juchen downstairs: “Lead the way.”

Yuan Zheng could only watch helplessly, mentally lighting incense for her safety surely the noble Prince Pengshan wouldn’t harm her over an unattained figurine?

Once outside, Juchen quickened her pace, dutifully guiding him. But after one turn, she found Song Mo keeping effortless stride beside her.

Nearly meeting his downward gaze, Juchen quickly turned her face away, looking elsewhere.

Song Mi stared at the back of her head and had no choice but to call out, “Lady Li.”

His voice was low, carrying the cool clarity she was accustomed to.

Juchen stiffened, frozen for a long moment before turning back with feigned nonchalance. “What is it?”

Song Mi studied her, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “I know our relationship isn’t exactly innocent, but acting like this will only make others find it even stranger.”

Juchen paused, meeting his deep, starlit eyes in the darkness. Was he implying she was overcompensating, warning her not to let others notice anything amiss?

Her gaze darkened imperceptibly as she smiled calmly. “Was I?”

“Yes.”

“But we were never close to begin with.”

“Still, there’s no need to avoid looking at me the entire time.” Song Mi raised a brow, accusingly. “I’m not that unattractive, am I? Compared to Consort Yuan, at least I’m fairer more noticeable in the dark.”

Unable to explain her own flimsy behavior, Juchen latched onto his words.

“Consort Yuan’s complexion is only like that because he’s spent years campaigning on the frontier.”

“I know.” Song Mi cut her off, his chest tightening as if he had swallowed a mouthful of bl00d.

He had merely made an offhand remark about Yuan Zheng, yet she rushed to defend him.

But he had never cared to compare himself to others.

After a moment of composure, Juchen lifted her eyes to argue, “I just thought that if I appeared too familiar with you, it would raise more suspicion.

Besides, it’s not just me who isn’t speaking to you.”

Song Mi held her clear gaze for a long while before responding indifferently, “Fair enough.”

Juchen, having muddled through, exhaled silently in relief.

Then Song Mi spoke again. “That night.”

Bracing herself, Juchen looked up at him with a practiced smile. Song Mi watched her, his lips parting slightly before falling silent.

He still could not bring himself to ask why she had not come that evening.

He wasn’t sure if her absence had been a silent declaration of their relationship’s end.

He wanted to ask, but for some reason, the words stuck in his throat.

A faint trace of hesitation lingered beneath the surface.

Meeting her puzzled gaze, he let out a self-deprecating chuckle and lowered his eyes. “Never mind.”

Entering the west chamber, Song Mi asked, “Where is it?” Juchen pointed to the amphora.

He strode toward it without hesitation. Remembering the arrows were kept in the storage shelf, Juchen opened the cabinet only to find them missing. After a quick glance around, she spotted them on top of the shelf.

Standing on tiptoe, she couldn’t reach. She glanced back at Song Mi, who was bent over retrieving the amphora.

Resigned, Juchen turned to a nearby stool, carried it over, and stepped up to grab the arrows.

Song Mi turned just in time to see her standing on the violet-upholstered footstool. Without a word, he set the amphora down and strode over, his hands settling firmly on her waist to steady her.

Her summer robes were thin, and the heat of his palms against her slender waist sent her pulse racing. Her body trembled slightly, throwing her off balance.

As her foot slipped, Song Mi caught her.

Juchen fell into his embrace, her gaze landing on the folds of his robe. The refined, clean scent she knew so well enveloped her, and before she could stop herself, she looked up at him.

She couldn’t control her increasingly frantic heartbeat, nor could she avoid recalling his words “When the time comes, we’ll cut ties completely.”

Even though Juchen could see from the tenderness in his eyes now that this wasn’t the “time” he spoke of, her pride still got the better of her, leaving a sour ache in her heart. This feeling of waiting for him to pronounce her death sentence was worse than being killed outright.

Juchen lowered her head and muttered “Thank you,” her gaze dimming.

Her utterly dejected expression made the man holding her feel as though she was disappointed it was him embracing her now.

Song Mi couldn’t help but purse his lips and say, “Even if he didn’t come to help you, there’s no need to be this upset.”

Juchen was lost in thought and didn’t catch his words clearly: “Hmm?”

Seeing her feign ignorance, Song Mi gave a cold smirk, set her back on her feet, and said nothing more.