Meng Fu lowered her head and lifted the cup in front of her, taking a small sip. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, like a butterfly just squeezing out of its cocoon and stretching its wings. Then, she put down the cup, raised her head, and looked straight into Li Yue’s eyes. The two of them locked eyes. Meng Fu seemed to understand even better than Li Yue himself where his displeasure came from. She paused and said: “Your Majesty, I’m worried that if you go back to the Meng residence, you’ll be punished by my father again. So after we switch back in the future, I’ll handle this matter myself. I know what to do.”
“Hm?” Li Yue didn’t expect Meng Fu to say this. He might not even have noticed himself, but before Meng Fu had even finished speaking, his expression had already softened considerably. Still uneasy, he asked Meng Fu: “Can you?”
Meng Fu also asked herself in her heart—can I?
But then again, what can’t I?
It’s just a matter of getting some clarity on things from the past.
She nodded solemnly and gave this emperor a promise: “I can.”
Li Yue laughed. His tone was clearly more relaxed than before. He said: “Alright then. If you also get locked into the Fufeng Pavilion by Meng Yanxing, I’ll personally go and rescue you.”
Meng Fu also laughed. His Majesty personally going to save her—what kind of scene would that be?
“Probably won’t happen,” seeing Li Yue a little disappointed, Meng Fu continued, “By that time, my father might already be thoroughly versed in Nan De.”
It was the first time Li Yue had heard such a mischievous remark come from Meng Fu’s mouth. He immediately burst into laughter, and that hint of disappointment vanished in an instant.
He discovered that he really liked hearing Meng Fu say these teasing words. After she finished speaking, her eyes curved as she smiled—very pretty.
It was his own face, yes, but once filled with Meng Fu’s soul, it had taken on all sorts of new expressions that especially drew his gaze.
Now’s Meng Fu was much more spirited than when he first met her.
That was good. He hoped she would keep moving forward.
Meng Fu laughed happily. A gentle breeze passed by, tree shadows swayed, and the sunlight fell like golden powder, scattering down—onto the jade crown on her head, between her open, elegant brows, and the upturned curve at the side of her lips.
Only then did Li Yue notice that there was actually a shallow dimple on the left side of his own face. He couldn’t help wanting to raise his hand and poke at it. But just as he moved his finger, Li Yue came back to himself—what’s there to touch on his own face, rough and coarse as it was?
Tsk.
Then maybe…
Wait no, what was he even thinking?
Li Yue increasingly felt uneasy. He cleared his throat, adjusted his sitting posture, and turned his head to look elsewhere—yet the corner of his eye was still fixed on Meng Fu’s face.
In the past, Li Yue had never thought this face of his looked particularly good. But now, he felt like he just couldn’t look at it enough.
This shouldn’t be, he thought.
Could it be… that he’d become more handsome than before?
Seems like not really, either.
Meng Fu saw him constantly looking around, and considerately said: “I had Gao Xi send away all the palace attendants here in advance. Are you looking for someone? I’ll call Gao Xi over right now.”
“No need,” Li Yue said, then changed his words, “—though, call him over is fine too, have him go to Zichen Hall and bring some memorials. Right now I’ve nothing to do, I can help you look over them.”
He was finding something for himself to do, so he wouldn’t keep thinking about all sorts of things.
Meng Fu leaned her body forward. Seeing her suddenly come close, Li Yue’s body inexplicably tensed up a little. Then he heard her laugh softly and ask: “Your Majesty, aren’t you writing your book?”
“Oh—right, I still have to write the book.” Only now did Li Yue recall that the main body of his Nan De still hadn’t been started yet. Just now he was too engrossed in talking with Meng Fu and nearly thought the book was already finished.
Li Yue came back to himself, lowered his head to look at the two big characters on the paper, picked up the brush again, changed to another sheet of paper. Meng Fu saw that His Majesty was starting to write and, after thinking a moment, called in Gao Xi to bring the memorials.
She would work here together with His Majesty; if any problems arose, she could directly ask him.
However, it was His Majesty who ran into problems first. He held the brush and gestured with it for a long time, yet still didn’t manage to write down a single character.
His Majesty had the will but not the strength. If it were to curse someone, he could come up with a whole set of rhyming insults in no time, but writing a book—this truly stumped him. He felt that at this rate, he wouldn’t even be able to squeeze out six characters in seven days.
The memorials had already been delivered by Gao Xi. Meng Fu had just reviewed two when she looked up and saw His Majesty still stuck on the beginning. His brows were tightly furrowed, expression heavy. It looked like this national policy was facing quite the difficulty.
Meng Fu set down the imperial brush, observed His Majesty for quite a while, then softly asked: “Your Majesty, do you truly want to write a Nan De?”
“I truly do,” Li Yue said, looking down at the blank paper in front of him, sighing, and then looking up at Meng Fu, “but that I can’t write anything right now is also true.”
Meng Fu actually thought she saw a hint of grievance on His Majesty’s face. She thought for a moment, then softly reminded: “Actually, it doesn’t have to be written by Your Majesty personally.”
Li Yue’s eyes lit up. He put down the brush and asked Meng Fu: “Are you going to write it?”
Meng Fu shook her head: “Of course I won’t be the one writing it.”
His Majesty wanted to produce a Nan De only to strike back at Nü Jie, and Meng Fu could roughly guess what sort of content Nan De would contain. For a sovereign to write such a book really wasn’t suitable—let alone for Meng Fu herself. This kind of book had to be written by someone with prestige and position, and a man at that.
Meng Fu quickly sifted through the suitable candidates in her mind. Her expression gradually became serious, and in that seriousness there was also a trace of hesitation. When she looked up, she saw His Majesty’s face full of eager expectation. Her heart felt as though something had gently poked it. She said to Li Yue: “Your Majesty, I’ve thought of someone, but I don’t know if he’s suitable.”
“Say it,” Li Yue said.
Meng Fu still hesitated slightly. Her heart was conflicted—she didn’t know if what she was doing was right. She said to Li Yue: “I don’t know if I should say.”
Li Yue urged: “Quick, quick—what’s this ‘should or shouldn’t’ between the two of us? If you want to say it, just say it.”
Meng Fu’s hesitation wasn’t because of His Majesty, but because her heart was swaying between the so-called three obediences and four virtues and her own longstanding principles of conduct.
Seeing His Majesty’s encouraging gaze, Meng Fu finally chose to follow her own heart. She suggested: “How about… you have my father write it?”
“Meng Yanxing? Him?” Li Yue was puzzled at first, but then he immediately understood. His eyes lit up and he clapped his hands with a laugh: “Wonderful! Wonderful!”
Meng Yanxing was a renowned Confucian scholar of the current era, and had once been the Crown Prince’s tutor. The articles he wrote always stirred up waves of attention. If Nan De were truly written by him, and then backed by the emperor’s promotion, it could absolutely become a classic that the people of the world would all recite.
Li Yue felt this idea was simply excellent!
Meng Yanxing made people read Nü Jie to him? Then he’d have Meng Yanxing write Nan De himself—wasn’t that even more painful than copying Nan De a hundred times?
Right—Meng Yanxing would definitely be miserable.
Li Yue asked: “But will Meng Yanxing be willing?”
Since Meng Fu had already put forward this suggestion, naturally there was nothing more to push away. She said to Li Yue: “Let me speak to him about this matter.”
Before marrying, Meng Fu had lived many years in the Meng residence, often staying by Meng Yanxing’s side. What sort of temperament Meng Yanxing had—she probably knew better than anyone else in the world. He appeared to be someone who neither sought fame nor profit, with no particular hobbies, but in truth, he cared greatly about face and reputation.
Li Yue rubbed his chin and asked: “What if what he writes isn’t what I want?”
Meng Fu said calmly: “Then let Father revise it slowly.”
Li Yue stared for a moment, a bit stunned. A while passed before he suddenly called her with a touch of intimacy: “A’Fu…”
Meng Fu didn’t react at all in that moment. She looked up in a daze at Li Yue across from her. She had completely not expected His Majesty to call her like that.
A’Fu.
It seemed like… it had been a long time since anyone had called her that.
Just like every other time he praised her, Li Yue was extremely direct. He exclaimed: “You’re amazing.”
After Li Yue’s voice fell, a long moment passed before Meng Fu returned to her senses. She blinked, lowered her head slightly, and the tips of her ears were faintly red. She asked Li Yue, “…Why did you call me that?”
Li Yue smiled and said: “I heard Madam Meng call you that.”
But Madam Meng had only called her that once. Most of the time, she directly used Meng Fu’s name, while she always called Meng Yu “A’Yu.” She had never hidden her favoritism in front of anyone, and because Meng Yanxing was especially strict with Meng Fu, she believed her own partiality was only natural.
Li Yue felt that they had known each other for so long, and having even exchanged bodies, they were closer than anyone else in the world. Calling her “Miss Meng” or anything like that was just too distant.
“You don’t like me calling you that?” Li Yue asked.
“It’s not that.” Meng Fu’s lips curved slightly. She smiled for a while, the patchy light and shadow falling into her eyes. She looked up at Li Yue and said seriously—
“I like it very much, Your Majesty.”