The guards opened the doors and knelt in unison, faces solemn.
The Third Prince did not acknowledge them. He crossed the threshold directly, the killing frost in his expression deepening the chill of the already austere chamber.
“I have heard that Mother is unwell and have come to pay respects. Eunuch Lu reports that prolonged residence in Linhan Palace exposed you to heavy earth dampness, resulting in wind-cold. I possess a remedy most effective against such ailments. It shall be sent presently.”
The words were courteous.
The tone was not.
Between the lines lingered a faint disdain, as though the woman before him bore no relation at all.
Consort Mu’s complexion blanched further. Though weak, she forced her trembling hands to steady.
“My son need not stand on ceremony. Since it is filial devotion, I shall take the medicine with care.”
“Then I shall not disturb Mother further. Pray return to rest. Your son takes his leave.”
He bowed, then turned away.
Consort Mu pressed a hand to her chest, her composure shattered. She stared after his departing back—not with longing, but with urgent anticipation, as though only his complete exit would ease her terror.
At the doorway, the Third Prince halted.
Without turning, he said coolly, “Does my presence trouble Mother so?”
No reply came—only ragged breathing and faint sobs.
Not a servant dared approach.
At last, Consort Mu coughed forth a mouthful of blood and collapsed to the floor.
The Third Prince gave a cold laugh and departed.
When he returned to Qinyi Courtyard, Mu Xueshi was awake, seated upon the table and busily fiddling with something.
Startled by the prince’s sudden entrance, he looked faintly flustered.
“You could at least make some noise before coming in!”
The prince regarded him in silence.
Mu Xueshi’s eyes darted about. With his left hand clutching his right sleeve, he pointed suddenly at a vase and cried, “Look! There’s someone there!”
In that instant, he hurriedly pulled two skewers of candied golden fruit from his sleeve and replaced them upon a plate.
When he looked up and saw that the prince had not even turned his head, he realized the entire performance had been observed.
He swallowed hard, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment—an expression so unexpectedly charming that the prince found himself momentarily distracted.
Yet Mu Xueshi burst out indignantly, “Why are you so slow to react? I even gave you a cue!”
The prince frowned, silent.
Under that unblinking gaze, Mu Xueshi gulped again. From a small pouch at his waist he produced two pieces of red plum cake. Then, under ever-deepening suspicion, he proceeded to lay out crystal sugar pellets, soft white pastries, delicate mountain fruits, palace-brewed sweet wine…
And, somehow, two silver ingots and three agate hairpins.
“What are you staring at? I only took a few things of yours! You’re the brooding type, aren’t you? A classic brooder—”
His teasing faltered, confidence draining from his voice.
Futile Devices Scans 
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