ITVCFITB CHAPTER 12

 Chapter 12 – Are You Blind?

The day they went out, the weather played nice. Cloudless blue, bright as a polished mirror.

Great Xia’s customs were fairly open. Young ladies and gers alike came and went freely; many even fell in love on their own and chose their partners. When such matches succeeded, people called them a romance for the ages. Still, most marriages were arranged by parents through matchmakers. Once one comes of age, your elders would decide.

Thanks to the imperial betrothal granted to Luo Shuyu, Lady Liu’s standards for her children’s matches had suddenly climbed. If Luo Shuyu could win the royal family’s favor, then surely her own brood could land a fine match too, if not nobility, at least a scholarly clan.

In his past life, Luo Shuyu hadn’t paid such matters much mind. In this one, he meant to know what needed knowing and dig into what “shouldn’t” be known. Any overlap between Shen Mingyun and the Luo family would affect how well Luo Shuyu lived. That much the book had taught him: the more openly someone aligned with Shen, the more benefits they reaped; cross him, and tragedy followed.

Plenty of clans fell from grace for “opposing” Shen Mingyun, villains by the book’s logic, ending in ruin: families shattered, couples torn apart, children abandoned. To change that trajectory would be a long, hard road.

For now, Luo Shuyu’s priority was his own small household. Everything else could wait.

He set out with Qingwang and a sun hat.

He’d barely left the gates when Shen Mingyun also rode out, off to a date, decked out like a peacock with its tail fanned.

Since his rebirth, Luo Shuyu hadn’t stepped outside the residence. News from beyond came through Qingwang alone.

On the main street, less touched by Shen Mingyun’s “influence”, vendors cried their wares; life bustled on. The capital’s intrigues seemed a world away.

Truth be told, common folk worried about making a living, keeping families fed. They didn’t care who held power; they backed whoever made life better.

The carriage clip-clopped toward the main drag. Luo Shuyu wasn’t looking to cause ripples; he went straight to Fuman Tower. Li Mingjin had booked the private room, who would dare block a Third Prince from meeting his future spouse?

It was market day; thus crowds swelled. Fuman Tower’s first floor was packed. The waiter hustled, the kitchen sent dish after dish, and voices tangled with the clink of cups, pure, bustling warmth.

Faintly, Luo Shuyu even heard people praising Li Bai’s poems“Bring in the Wine,” “Viewing the Waterfall on Mount Lu,” “Drinking Alone Under the Moon” and someone reciting: “I raise my cup to invite the moon; with my shadow, we make three.”

A waiter led him to a second-floor room. It was much quieter there, each suite sealed off.

He hadn’t come here often. In his previous life, while he was pregnant, Li Mingjin had once brought home a pile of dishes from here in the depths of winter.

Li Mingjin had said it was “on the way.” Thinking back, Fuman Tower and the Third Prince’s residence sat in opposite directions, one south, one north, hardly neighbors. “On the way,” indeed.

He passed Qingwang his sun hat, still wondering how those dishes had stayed hot in winter. The more he thought about it, the more a sour ache filled his chest.

He had just arrived; the muffled noise outside suddenly dulled. Qingwang was pouring tea.

The door slid open. A young man in white stepped in, folding fan in hand, sword brows, starry eyes, a noble air in every movement. His lips were thin and pressed; his manner uninhibited, like a figure stepping down from a painted scroll.

No other than the man he’d come to meet: the Third Prince, Li Mingjin.

Today’s ensemble was miles from his usual style. No one would connect this refined, fan-bearing gentleman. No whip in sight, with the Third Prince’s ferocious reputation.

Even Luo Shuyu nearly knocked over his teacup. His hand trembled. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Why are you dressed like that?”

He’d never seen Li Mingjin like this. The prince favored dark colors; he almost never wore something so bright. Dashing, yes but not “him.” Then again, they hadn’t met before the wedding in the last life. Perhaps he really had dressed like this when he was younger. Who didn’t?

“Fresh clothes, fiery horse” that was youth. And Li Mingjin was only just eighteen.

Li Mingjin sat opposite, steady as ever. “You don’t like it?”

Luo Shuyu shook his head with a light smile, his brows softening. “Not dislike, just not used to it. Last time, you were in full black.”

Shadow Three opened the window; a soft breeze drifted in.

Li Mingjin thought, He’s smiling. He must like it. Last night’s overtime studying of romance tales hadn’t gone to waste. Those books swore everyone adored the elegant gentleman in white. He’d even ridden a white horse over.

No one had expected them to meet before the wedding. For Luo Shuyu, it was a rare, almost giddy surprise. How much had he missed, last time? Facing the pre-wedding Li Mingjin now, he felt both gratitude and regret, grateful for this moment, regretful for he hadn’t known him better before. He had not been a competent prince consort.

“I see,” Li Mingjin said. He slid the fresh pastries closer. “Try these.”

Summer favorites, soft, cool mung-bean cakes that melted on the tongue. Luo Shuyu ate one while Li Mingjin kept watching.

Luo Shuyu was a shade younger, red lips, white teeth, a clean, bright smile, and a faint dimple by the right corner of his mouth. The pale green robe fit him perfectly: a touch more would be gaudy; a touch less, too bland. However he looked at him, he looked good.

Being stared at like that, Luo Shuyu felt both shy and unable to stop smiling. “I’ll pause on the sweets. We still have lunch. I hear the braised pork knuckle here is excellent.”

“You like braised knuckle?” Li Mingjin was genuinely surprised. His earlier inquiries hadn’t turned that up.

“Mhm. I even learned to make it.” The one who loved braised knuckle wasn’t him, it was Li Mingjin.

Before they truly came together, Li Mingjin had eaten light with him.

One day during the pregnancy, Li Mingjin hosted a few generals in the front hall. Luo Shuyu, nauseous and off his food, idly asked the kitchen what the prince was eating. Feng Momo listed a few dishes; among them, braised pork knuckle. She’d added, “His Highness’s favorite, never tires of it.” Only then had Luo Shuyu learned the prince preferred meat. He’d been making the kitchen serve mostly vegetables; after dinner, Li Mingjin always went to the study. Did he sneak off for meat afterward?

Li Mingjin’s lips tightened; his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Knuckle is good. I like it too.” His future consort was still too thin; more meat would do him good. And he could cook, another point in favor of marriage.

Catching a glance, the guard stepped out to tell the waiter to add one braised knuckle.

While they waited, Luo Shuyu handed over the drawings he’d brought. “I asked you here to look at this.”

Li Mingjin had half expected a love letter. On opening it, there was a fleeting disappointment, quickly consumed by fascination. It wasn’t just a modified dragon-bone waterwheel plan; there were detailed annotations to match.

For once, his expression shifted. “A dragon-bone waterwheel?”

“The redesigned version,” Luo Shuyu said.

Business reclaimed Li Mingjin’s focus. His eyes finally left Luo Shuyu’s face, scanning the schematics again and again.

He remembered the Ministry of Works was handling a discreet project, was this connected?

His gaze darkened; when he looked back at Luo Shuyu, he found the young man calm, no guilty flutter, nothing to hide.

Luo Shuyu couldn’t reveal his rebirth yet and didn’t want to lie to Li Mingjin either. He opted for a measured truth.

“Someone gave me this redesign,” he said. “But I swear he’s trustworthy. He said if the Eldest Prince brings this out, it won’t help the people; it’ll spark disaster. I asked what kind; he wouldn’t say. I believe him. Your Highness, please believe me.”

“The poetry business, did he tell you that too?” Instinct told Li Mingjin to trust him, but how did a housebound ger know the world’s goings-on? The poetry trap he could accept. This blueprint required more thought.

“More or less,” Luo Shuyu said with a nod.

Li Mingjin folded up the drawings. “Has anyone else seen these?”

“My eldest brother also has a set,” Luo Shuyu answered frankly. “But they haven’t managed it yet, they’re using the wrong materials. The person told me the proper ones; I’ve written them in.”

“Why not help Luo Shumo?” Li Mingjin asked.

Luo Shuyu paused to gather his thoughts, then spoke plainly. “You and I will be one, we owe loyalty to each other. Besides, my eldest brother is the son of the concubine Father raised to wife soon after my mother died. For years, that woman diverted my mother’s dowry and let the servants dock my stipend. I endured. I won’t pretend there’s no rancor. Since my ‘cousin’ came, they’ve treated me worse. I was praying to leave the Luo house and then the imperial decree arrived. I’m giving these to you. They aren’t stolen. You can rest easy.”

“I believe you,” Li Mingjin said without hesitation. “Leave it to me.”

“The person stressed, do not let the credit go to the Eldest Prince or my brother,” Luo Shuyu added. “The consequences would be dire.”

“Understood,” Li Mingjin said, almost distracted. When Luo Shuyu’s eyes shone like that, there were stars in them.

Footsteps neared, the waiter murmured with the guard; thus, they dropped the topic.

Lunch went well. Li Mingjin was very satisfied with the braised knuckle. Luo Shuyu preferred lighter fare and ceded most of it to him.

Despite his refined getup, the way Li Mingjin rolled up his sleeves and ate the knuckle had its own charm. The smile at Luo Shuyu’s lips never faded.

Because the seamstresses were rushing his wedding robes, he had fittings that afternoon, so he didn’t linger.

They’d met in secret so Li Mingjin couldn’t escort him home. He saw him to the carriage, then arranged for covert protection.

Luo Shuyu took another long look. “I’ll go. Be careful.”

“Mm.” Li Mingjin wanted to say more, but only one thing came out: “Write to me.”

Luo Shuyu nodded. “All right.”

“And make it long,” Li Mingjin added.

A small, teasing smile. “Do a few more words count?”

“They count,” he said, low. So long as you write.

They couldn’t tarry. They parted there. Next time would be their wedding day, sweetly anticipated and agonizingly far.

At the door, Li Mingjin watched the carriage roll away, then asked Dark Three, “You’re sure he drew that himself?”

“Yes, Highness. Luo ger has met no one lately. The drawings are his hand, the notes his script. No one else touched them.”

Li Mingjin’s face settled into thought.

What they didn’t know: their rendezvous had been spotted by another diner at Fuman Tower, Shen Mingyun.

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That afternoon, back in Ruyi Courtyard, Luo Shuyu was seized for multiple rounds of fittings, wedding robes and a handful of new summer outfits. He was so tired he scarcely had time for a drink of water, much less other concerns.

At dusk, just as dinner was being set out, an uninvited guest arrived.

No other than Shen Mingyun.

The sight of him made Luo Shuyu bristle. Tired as he was, he found no smile for him.

“What do you want, cousin?”

For once, Shen forced himself to be “polite.” “Cousin Shuyu, guess who I saw at Fuman Tower today?”

So he saw. Had he caught sight of him and Li Mingjin together? Luo Shuyu kept his face smooth. “Who?”

Shen lowered his voice. “Your fiancé, of course, the Third Prince and guess what else I saw?”

“Just say it,” Luo Shuyu cut him off, hungry and out of patience. “I’ve not eaten.”

Shen’s face was all gossip and schadenfreude. “Fine, I’ll say it, your fiancé was there at lunch on a date.”

Luo Shuyu, stomach empty, stared at him, speechless. “…Are you blind?”

---

Author’s Note:
Third Prince: Wife, look at me—white robes fluttering, elegance on a white horse. Did you fall in love yet?
Luo Shuyu: …not really in the mood.

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