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Song Jinhahe was momentarily stunned, her conjectures about Sheng Congyuan playing the pig to eat the tiger fluctuating wildly in her mind. If he weren’t pretending, this guileless appearance of his would make it difficult for him to force his will upon her. But if he were still acting, he hid it far too deeply.

"Only leftovers remain." Sheng Congyuan turned back, cutting off her train of thought, the lid he had just lifted from the stove still in his hand.

The kitchen had been largely tidied up. On the central counter sat the remnants the maids had cleared from the banquet—perhaps even the plate Song Jinhahe hadn't finished earlier. Beside the stove were a few jars of wine yet to be decanted and some plates of side dishes. Aside from those, there was nothing fresh or clean left to eat.

Song Jinhahe: "..."

She was too helpless to speak. Though she was a bit of a glutton, she hadn't sunk so low as to steal leftovers.

*Gurgle, gurgle—*

Her stomach chose this moment to protest once more. Song Jinhahe quickly covered her belly, somewhat exasperated. "Forget it, then. I only came to have a look anyway."

With that, she cast a wary glance at him and warned, "I am not here to do anything wicked!"

Sheng Congyuan set down the lid and turned to survey the area where ingredients were stacked. "Noodles are quick to make, but more complex dishes will take time. What would you like to eat?"

Song Jinhahe paused, her intention to turn and leave halted. She asked uncertainly, "You are going to cook?"

"If you stay hungry, I fear you will find it hard to sleep tonight." Sheng Congyuan looked away, appearing somewhat embarrassed, and took the opportunity to ask, "Is the sachet still working well?"

Song Jinhahe had no mind for sachets now. She leaned in, curious. "You know how to cook?"

Sheng Congyuan’s subtle attempt at affection was ignored, leaving him a bit deflated, but he answered promptly, "My mother was skilled in the culinary arts. I learned by her side since I was small, so I picked it up."

In truth, ever since he could remember, his father had intended to use him as cheap labor. The household chores his father had handled before his birth gradually became his responsibilities once he arrived. Furthermore, he learned everything quickly, so eventually, even cooking—which his father couldn't do but was picky about—fell to him.

Looking back, it was likely due to a heartfelt compliment from his mother: "An'an, you are so amazing." Most men cannot resist praise, and young boys, with even less mature minds, are no different. At the tender age of three, he was filled with enthusiasm for cooking just to keep earning his mother’s praise. By the time he realized it, he had inherited his mother's mantle, taking on the responsibility for all three meals a day until his family returned to the capital, sparing him from the chore of heading to the kitchen the moment he opened his eyes.

Song Jinhahe’s eyes lit up. She didn't think Sheng Congyuan’s skills could rival the legendary Lady Sheng, but surely a great teacher produced a great student. "Can I eat anything I want?"

"Yes." Sheng Congyuan nodded without hesitation.

Song Jinhahe didn't quite believe him. She tilted her head, thinking with a bit of mischief to name a complex dish that would stump him. Just as she was thinking, a sound suddenly came from outside the door.

Song Jinhahe was startled, her train of thought interrupted, her instinct screaming at her to hide. But she quickly realized that she and Sheng Congyuan had entered openly; Sheng Congyuan had said that coming for food was not against the rules.

But the next instant, a familiar voice drifted in from outside: "Huh, why are there no maids guarding here?"

Now, Song Jinhahe was truly alarmed. She lowered her voice in a panic: "It's Xiaoxiao! Quick, hide, hide..."

"Never mind, it's better that no one is here. Come, I'll take you in."

There was more than one person!

Footsteps drew closer. Song Jinhahe, desperate to avoid being seen by Cen Xiaoxiao with Sheng Congyuan, panicked and grabbed Sheng Congyuan, pulling him toward a pile of hay in the corner of the kitchen. As the door was pushed open, she pressed him down, and they both tumbled behind the hay, finally hidden from view.

"Come in, there's no one."

Hearing Cen Xiaoxiao’s cheerful voice, Song Jinhahe finally breathed a sigh of relief. But as she looked up, her breath hitched.

In the dim corner, Sheng Congyuan’s face was right before her. A wave of heat radiated from his body—the warmth of her entire person pressed against him. The brawny arm she had grabbed was firm with muscle, feeling hard and solid, as if he were stunned by her sudden movement. In the cramped corner, with only a pile of hay for cover, Sheng Congyuan sat on the ground with his long legs spread, a somewhat awkward posture that left only a gap between his thighs for Song Jinhahe to crouch in.

Her calves went weak, and she ended up sitting on his lap. The position was incredibly awkward, but neither dared to move, fearing that the slightest motion would inevitably lead to contact with places that should not be touched.

Sheng Congyuan’s dark eyes were dazed yet deep and shadowed, staring fixedly at her. In the space of a breath, his familiar scent washed over her, making her heart leap. Song Jinhahe’s eyelashes trembled with nerves, unsure whether she should worry about Cen Xiaoxiao discovering them or regret dragging Sheng Congyuan into such a place.

The proximity made it impossible to know where to rest her eyes. Looking up, she felt drawn into the depths of those dark, profound pupils; looking down, she saw the steady, rhythmic heaving of his sturdy chest. The sensation beneath her was even more unsettling—hard and abrasive. Every time she thought to shift, the heat radiating from his knees made her temples throb.

If she were still that innocent, naive girl, she would have had nothing but nerves in her mind. But even though she was unmarried, she understood everything. The scenes from her dreams were so clear, the sensations so real. How could she not know where the heat against her knees came from?

Between her nerves, she couldn't help but blush and feel her heart race. Song Jinhahe instinctively moved her knees, wanting to distance herself because she understood. Just as she moved slightly, a large hand reached out, cupping her knee and pressing her back in.

Song Jinhahe turned in shock, meeting Sheng Congyuan’s face shrouded in shadow. She saw his tense expression as he formed a silent word: "Don't move."

Outside the hay, Cen Xiaoxiao continued, oblivious: "Are you holding a grudge against me?"

The other person, who had been silent until now, spoke slowly: "No, this subordinate would not dare."

"Chu Xun! There is no one else here, must you still speak to me like that!"

Song Jinhahe was stunned. She certainly remembered this name, which had made her feel so bewildered earlier that day. Chu Xun—Cen Xiaoxiao’s guard.

"Princess, you and I are master and servant; it should be this way whether in public or in private."

Song Jinhahe’s tension eased, and she pricked up her ears to listen to the secret Cen Xiaoxiao hadn't yet told her. So, the person she favored was her own guard. No wonder she said what she did at the racetrack today. To her, Chu Xun was ordinary, yet he was what her heart desired—more precious than anything else. But Chu Xun, it seemed, was too rigid, unable to cast aside the hierarchy of master and servant.

Cen Xiaoxiao raged: "You are holding a grudge against me! Didn't I explain it to you already!"

Chu Xun fell silent.

Cen Xiaoxiao rushed to add: "Today I was just watching the competition as usual. When Lord Sheng won, everyone was cheering; I just admired his bravery, that is all. Are you jealous because of that?"

Song Jinhahe listened intently. When she heard Sheng Congyuan mentioned, she instinctively turned to look at him. They locked eyes for only a second before she quickly looked away. She was listening with great interest, but he seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed intently on her, clearly not listening. It was better if he didn't; she didn't want Sheng Congyuan to know Cen Xiaoxiao’s secrets.

Chu Xun: "How can I be compared to Lord Sheng? It is only right that you honor and respect him."

Song Jinhahe clicked her tongue at this sour remark. From her angle, she couldn't see Chu Xun’s expression, but remembering that rigid, cold face saying such a thing while feeling wronged, how could it not make Cen Xiaoxiao’s heart flutter?

Sure enough, a muffled sound suggested Cen Xiaoxiao had reached out to hug Chu Xun. She said urgently, "Don't talk nonsense. What 'right' or 'not right'? In my heart, you are the best; no Lord Sheng, Lord Li, or Lord Liu can compare to you."

Song Jinhahe felt her face flush. She was both intrigued and repulsed; it was truly nauseating. But Cen Xiaoxiao wouldn't stop there, hurrying to add: "And you are not allowed to babble about me and Lord Sheng. He is the man Jinhahe has set her heart on. I am on Jinhahe’s side; I cheered for him only for Jinhahe’s sake. If you say things like that, aren't you trying to sow discord between us sisters!"

Chu Xun: "...Ah?"

Song Jinhahe: "...Ah?"

She turned immediately to meet Sheng Congyuan’s dark eyes, which were clearly startled and shining with light. Song Jinhahe panicked and instinctively raised a hand to cover his ears. But she couldn't block his lips, and she saw them move, forming the words: "Truly?"

"Fake!" Song Jinhahe’s mouth mimed the word exaggeratedly; if she hadn't been afraid to make a sound, she would have shouted. What man she had set her heart on! Who was setting their heart on whom!

But Cen Xiaoxiao saw that her words were effective and continued to add fuel to the fire: "It’s true. You don't know, but today, when Jinhahe saw Lord Sheng’s heroic posture during the archery, her eyes were fixed on him. She hasn't told me the story between her and Lord Sheng yet, but I’ve already guessed most of it, so you must not babble anymore, and don't be jealous, okay?"

Song Jinhahe: "..."

She pressed her hand against Sheng Congyuan’s ear with force, attempting to drown out Cen Xiaoxiao’s voice. But the way Sheng Congyuan’s brows and eyes bloomed with light clearly showed he had heard every single word. In the narrow space, the sound of accelerating heartbeats became increasingly distinct.

Song Jinhahe looked down for a moment, confirming the heartbeat wasn't her own. When she looked up, her gaze was quickly captured by Sheng Congyuan, as if an invisible hand were hooking her, pulling her deep into those dark eyes. His body began to grow hot, the temperature climbing to an undeniable level. His breathing grew heavy, and his chest heaved violently.

Song Jinhahe pulled back her hand, but her peripheral vision caught the fixed shadow by the hay pile, so she dared not expose herself further. Whether just now or before, she didn't dare to imagine what would happen if she and Sheng Congyuan were exposed to Cen Xiaoxiao—she wouldn't be able to explain it even with eight mouths.

Sheng Congyuan’s breath washed over her neck without restraint, and the large hand resting on her knee tightened unconsciously, his heat clearly seeping through the layers of her dress. Song Jinhahe felt her mouth go dry.

She let her gaze drift. When it fell lower, her eyes widened, and she hurriedly pulled her hand away.

"Hm? What was that sound?"

Sheng Congyuan wrapped his arm around her, pressing her waist so she was pinned against his chest. Song Jinhahe’s world plunged into darkness; her forehead rested against his chest, and her whole body felt as if it were being set ablaze. The sound of his heartbeat in the nearby cavity made her ears numb. Sheng Congyuan’s robust frame was much broader than Song Jinhahe’s, and in such a tight, gapless embrace, she was almost entirely hidden within his body.

Cen Xiaoxiao peeked toward the hay pile, then quickly looked away. "Since we've cleared the air, you must keep your promise. You agreed."

Chu Xun said in a low voice: "Alright, but do not overindulge."

"Mhm!" Cen Xiaoxiao replied obediently, crouching under the stove to rummage around. "I remember I hid it right here. Where is it... Ah, found it."

Chu Xun: "If the Prince knew you were hiding wine in the South Garden, I fear he would regret not having the South Garden kitchen thoroughly searched at the time."

"Who cares about him!" Cen Xiaoxiao was not ashamed but proud. "This wine is my treasure. If my father really found it and dared to confiscate it, I would definitely turn the world upside down."

As they spoke, the two seemed to start walking away. Cen Xiaoxiao was still muttering: "Such good wine, I must take a jar for Jinhahe tomorrow. I wonder if she will like it."

*Like it, like it.*

Song Jinhahe was a mess of panic, answering silently, praying she would leave quickly; she was being suffocated by Sheng Congyuan. She even suspected that Sheng Congyuan was taking advantage of the situation to satisfy his own private desires. He held her so tightly, his heart beat so fast; he must have been thinking of a thousand surging, selfish desires.

Little did she know, Sheng Congyuan’s mind was a complete blank. He couldn't even spare a thought to hope that Cen Xiaoxiao and her guard would stay longer.

But Cen Xiaoxiao suddenly stopped. Song Jinhahe turned instinctively, her lips brushing against a patch of skin on Sheng Congyuan’s chest, causing his muscles to tremble. Her forehead was released, but her cheek was inevitably pressed against him instead.

After a brief silence, Cen Xiaoxiao suddenly whispered: "No one is here now, shouldn't you..."

Before she finished, her voice abruptly stopped. Then, the ambiguous sound of lips and tongues entwining followed—urgent and intense. Behind the hay pile, the two closely pressed bodies stiffened simultaneously. Mixed with the distinct sounds of kissing in the kitchen, the surrounding atmosphere grew thick and heavy.

Song Jinhahe’s ears were buzzing. Her hands, clenching unconsciously, had already crumpled Sheng Congyuan’s clothing and arm. Embarrassment, panic. The heat she couldn't avoid feeling near her knees had already pressed against her calf, arrogantly flaunting its loss of control.

It was killing her.

Song Jinhahe inexplicably found the capacity to let her mind wander: if she dreamed of Sheng Congyuan again tonight, she wouldn't dare look at those scenes. She dared not look, yet she had to look. She would be tossed about by him over and over, once not enough, then twice, then three times. Just like the intense threat currently pressing firmly against her.

*Oh no, can't he control himself?*

The kissing outside the hay pile grew softer, the intensity fading. The honeyed affection settled into a lingering, gentle, and tangled enjoyment of the afterglow. Song Jinhahe’s entire body was taut, her heart rate long since imbalanced, blending into the still-unsettled, violent thumping of Sheng Congyuan’s heart, as if they had melted together.

Fortunately, the two in front of the kitchen door finally had enough. Cen Xiaoxiao’s voice became soft and tender, seemingly carrying a hint of shyness: "Let's go, come drink with me."

Chu Xun replied: "Alright."

With the sound of the kitchen door opening and closing, the two sets of footsteps were finally cut off.

Song Jinhahe came to her senses instantly, pushing off Sheng Congyuan’s chest, struggling to get up and move away. But her long-bent legs refused to cooperate; a wave of numbness surged up, causing her to collapse. Sheng Congyuan instinctively reached out to steady her. Because of the posture he had been forced into—leaning back—as he reached out to catch her, his palm landed on a rounded, soft curve.

It was warm and full, impossible to cover with one hand. Though the sensation was foreign, his vision was clear. Sheng Congyuan’s pupils constricted, his throat tightened, and his Adam’s apple rolled heavily and uncontrollably.

Song Jinhahe’s tailbone went numb, and she stared wide-eyed, the water in her eyes trembling. The skin touched by the light visibly flushed with a crimson hue creeping over her fairness. She covered her backside with one hand, sprang to her feet, and pointed at his nose, flushed with shame and anger: "Sheng Congyuan, you have no shame!"