He had only met her three times, yet each time she gave him a different impression.
She was beautiful but not coquettish, proper but not rigid—sometimes shy, other times warm and generous.
She was said to be well-behaved, and yet now, even after being told to wait, she had the nerve to fall asleep in this warm room. He couldn't help but wonder—who gave her such courage?
Dong Yuzhong noticed it but pretended not to. He quietly stepped out, gently closed the door, and left.
The soft noise didn't wake Lin Wanyi.
The emperor sat beside her without meaning to, quietly watching her without saying a word.
Lin Wanyi had been sleeping soundly, but it seemed she encountered something unpleasant in her dream. Her brows furrowed, then suddenly relaxed into a smile.
Then, all at once, she shouted, "Mother!"
The cry startled her awake.
As she opened her eyes, she found herself face-to-face with Emperor Yuwen Hong. Startled, she sprang up with a jerk—only to bump her knee hard against the corner of the table. The pain was sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes.
"Why are you panicking? I'm not going to eat you."
Yuwen Hong was slightly annoyed to see her so flustered—it was a far cry from the peaceful expression she wore in sleep. But when he noticed her flushed cheeks and trembling lips, clearly trying not to cry, he felt a pang of guilt.
Without another word, he pulled her back down to sit and deftly lifted her trouser leg.
Sure enough, her knee was badly bruised and already turning purple, with a bit of blood at the center.
That corner of the table was particularly sharp, and her abrupt movement had made the injury worse.
Lin Wanyi looked at the wound and inwardly cursed her luck. She had been fussing over the emperor for hours, hadn't eaten dinner, only sipped a few cups of tea—and now this? She dozed off while waiting, and when she woke, managed to hurt herself. Truly, a terrible day.
She was quietly upset, but couldn't say anything. So she simply stared at her knee and held back tears.
Yuwen Hong examined the injury and determined it wasn't serious.
"I have a blood-activating, bruise-healing ointment," he said. "Apply it for two days and it'll be fine."
He walked over to the medicine chest, retrieved a small green jar, scooped some of the white paste with a bamboo stick, and gently applied it to her knee.
The coolness immediately soothed the stinging pain.
After the ointment, he carefully wrapped her knee with gauze.
"Avoid water for a few days. Take the ointment with you later."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Lin Wanyi was mortified. Whether it was from getting hurt in front of the emperor or something else, she kept her head low.
When she spoke, Yuwen Hong detected a trace of a sob.
"You're crying?"
He tilted her chin gently, and sure enough—her eyes were red and watery.
"I didn't say I'd punish you. Why cry?"
He thought she was afraid she'd be scolded for falling asleep early. In truth, Lin Wanyi was just in pain.
She'd had a cold constitution for years and had been on medicine. Though the condition had improved, it left behind side effects—her sensitivity to pain was much higher than others'. Even minor injuries would linger. Her maid Chunqi and the rest of her household always treated her with extra care.
A bruise like this might heal in a few days for others—but for her, it could take half a month.
Of course, she wouldn't explain that to the emperor.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said, embarrassed. "It was really..."
The emperor could see her shame and didn't press further. Realizing it was already late, he softened.
"Fourth Uncle was in good spirits today and asked for two extra performances. That delayed me. He was supposed to dine with me, but I thought you might still be waiting—so I rushed back."
His explanation soothed her.
The emperor—cold and lofty in the eyes of all—had hurried back, hungry, just because he thought she might still be waiting? It surprised her. But then again, there were many women in the harem, and he was an emperor who knew how to treat them all with balance and care.
Perhaps he said these things to every woman.
The brief warmth in her heart faded before it could take root.
"Dong Yuzhong."
"Your servant is here."
"Serve the meal."
"Yes."
Soon, food was brought and set upon the nanmu square table before them.
It was made to suit the emperor's taste—light and mild. Lin Wanyi barely touched it.
At first, Yuwen Hong thought she was just being polite. He dismissed the others and kept only Dong Yuzhong to serve, thinking she'd eat more.
But she didn't.
He frowned. She hadn't eaten since noon. Wasn't she hungry?
"You have a small appetite?"
Lin Wanyi nearly choked on her soup.
Still, she put the spoon down with poise and asked, "Why do you say that, Your Majesty?"
"You've only had a few bites of rice and sips of soup. The dishes Dong Yuzhong brought are untouched. You don't eat much."
Then he added, "So you don't like these dishes?"
Lin Wanyi couldn't help wondering why she always seemed to talk about food with this emperor—what she liked, what she didn't.
It almost seemed like she was summoned to the palace just to have dinner with him.
She thought for a moment and answered carefully.
"I had some tea earlier, so I'm a bit full. I am hungry, but not enough to eat much. The food from the imperial kitchen is exquisite—but I prefer spicy food, so I'm not sure how to enjoy these milder dishes."
"You like spicy food? But isn't Prime Minister Lin also from Shengjing?"
Cuisine in Shengjing was generally light and fresh.
Partly because the region didn't produce chili peppers, and partly due to the cold, dry climate—spicy food could easily cause internal heat. People raised in Shengjing rarely developed a taste for it.
Lin Wanyi's love for spicy food came from spending five years at her grandfather's home and traveling in the south with his family.
Perhaps it was also because of her cold constitution. Spicy food warmed her, and over time, she grew to love the flavor.