Repay Kindness with Spring Water

Did he see her secretly rubbing her shoulders? Did he see the way her cheeks puffed up as she ate osmanthus cake?

When she stretched just now, had she squinted her eyes? Had she made those little humming sounds?

When she rubbed her shoulders, had she pressed especially hard? When she ate the osmanthus cake, had she looked a little inelegant?

These thoughts flapped wildly through Luo Zhao’s mind like a flock of birds whose nest had been disturbed, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

Her cold, aloof mask nearly shattered in the same instant.

A blush appeared across her cheekbones. At first, it was only a faint layer, so light that it was barely visible.

But in the blink of an eye, that blush seemed to have been doused with a ladleful of boiling oil. With a whoosh, it spread across both cheeks.

Luo Zhao slowly turned her head.

She moved so slowly that it was as though she were overcoming tremendous resistance.

First her shoulder, then her neck, then her chin, and finally her eyes.

When her gaze at last collided with Gu Chengyin’s, Luo Zhao’s lashes trembled violently, like the wings of a butterfly drenched by rain.

“Pre... Pre... Junior Preceptor Gu...”

Luo Zhao switched forms of address twice in succession. The first syllable was swallowed the instant it left her lips.

She only managed half of the second before biting down on her tongue.

At last, she found the safest form of address, and the one most befitting the Crown Princess’s status.

Yet when Luo Zhao finally called him by those three words, her voice trembled and the final syllable drifted away.

Her phoenix eyes brimmed with mist, embarrassment, and helplessness.

All her cold aloofness shattered into dust in that instant.

And her cheeks were still slightly puffed, with half a mouthful of osmanthus cake yet to be swallowed.

Gu Chengyin, meanwhile, sat down beside Luo Zhao as naturally as could be.

Not across from her, nor in the guest seat, but directly on the armrest.

Once seated, his gaze swept across the desk and landed on the plate of osmanthus cakes, of which Luo Zhao had already eaten half.

He casually picked up a piece and took a bite.

The cake had gone a little dry, its edges faintly hard, but its sweetness remained rich. Mixed with the fragrance of osmanthus, it melted across his tongue.

Gu Chengyin chewed twice and swallowed, then turned his head to look at Luo Zhao’s still-fluttering phoenix eyes.

In a leisurely, casual tone, he asked, “Your Highness, if the cakes have gone this dry and you still want to eat them, why not have someone bring you a fresh plate?”

Luo Zhao forcefully swallowed the piece of osmanthus cake lodged in her throat.

Because she swallowed too quickly and too hard, her throat felt dry and raw.

She snatched up the cup of tea Gu Chengyin had personally placed before her and gulped down a large mouthful.

The tea was warm—not hot, not cold, but just right as it slid down her throat.

Yet instead of suppressing the blush on her face, the warmth only made Luo Zhao flush even deeper.

Gu Chengyin had even poured her tea.

He had placed it exactly where it was easiest for her to reach, at the perfect temperature.

Had he calculated that she would certainly choke on the osmanthus cake, and brought the tea especially for that reason?

“I... I just like eating them dry.”

The moment Luo Zhao finished speaking, she wished she could bury her face in the teacup.

She liked eating them dry?

Since when had she liked dry osmanthus cakes?

But if she did not say that, what else could she say?

Gu Chengyin glanced at Luo Zhao but did not expose her.

This appearance of speaking against her own wishes, desperately trying to take back a lie only to make it more obvious, was far more adorable than the Crown Princess she had been while reviewing official documents.

And this adorable Luo Zhao was just as much the real her.

Gu Chengyin stuffed the remaining half of the osmanthus cake into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Then he reached into the front of his robe and felt around, pulling out a small package wrapped in oil paper.

The robes of the Celestial Master’s Residence were plain and streamlined to begin with, so the oil-paper package looked especially conspicuous tucked inside his chest.

It almost seemed as though he had casually taken it from somewhere.

Gu Chengyin placed the package on the desk. The moment he opened it, a sweet fragrance drifted from the paper.

It mingled with the lingering scent of osmanthus cake, filling the hall.

Inside the oil paper were several pieces of candied fruit.

They were golden and glossy, coated in a fine layer of sugar crystals that glimmered enticingly in the sunlight.

Luo Zhao’s gaze fell upon them involuntarily.

These were not made by the Palace Commissary.

She had eaten the Palace Commissary’s candied fruit for nearly twenty years. She could distinguish it with her eyes closed.

The Palace Commissary’s candied fruit was always uniform in size and color, arranged beautifully on a plate.

Each piece had to be pierced with a special silver pick before it could be eaten. Even eating a single piece required an elaborate ceremony.

These pieces, however, varied in size, their colors ranging from light to dark, and the sugar coating was rough and uneven.

They were clearly bought from a street market—and they looked as though they might be delicious.

Luo Zhao unconsciously swallowed.

“On my way back just now, I saw people lining up to buy these, so I picked up a portion for Your Highness.”

Gu Chengyin lightly tapped the edge of the oil-paper package with his finger.

“I wasn’t sure whether Your Highness would be accustomed to this sort of coarse, common fare.”

Luo Zhao said nothing.

Her gaze remained fixed on the candied fruit, but her fingers had already quietly moved from her lap to the edge of the desk.

Her fingertips tapped lightly against the rosewood surface once, then again, as though she were hesitating—or gathering her courage.

Then she reached out and picked up one piece.

The movement was so quick that she looked like a thief caught in the act.

The instant the candied fruit entered her mouth, an intense fruitiness, sweet and tart, spread across her tongue.

The Palace Commissary’s candied fruit would never use such a rich, powerful sugar coating. They would never add so much sugar.

They would never taste so sweet that she found it almost cloying, yet still could not bear to spit them out.

But Luo Zhao liked sweet things.

And she liked these even more than the uniformly sized, beautifully arranged candied fruit from the Palace Commissary—the kind that required such an elaborate production just to eat a single piece.

As she chewed, Luo Zhao’s cheeks puffed up slightly, and the corners of her lips lifted into a small, uncontrollable smile.

She did not say they were delicious, nor did she thank him. She simply reached out and picked up a second piece.

Gu Chengyin watched her take the second piece, the smile in his eyes deepening.

No matter how much one observed, nothing compared to personally placing a cup of tea before her.

No matter how much one calculated, nothing compared to casually bringing her a packet of candied fruit.

Luo Zhao’s cold aloofness was real. So were her thoughtfulness, consideration, and ability to balance strength with gentleness.

But beyond all that, there were aspects of her that were even more genuine.

They could not be observed, nor calculated.

They required him to sit beside Luo Zhao and accompany her as she finished those few pieces of candied fruit.

“If Your Highness likes them, I’ll bring you a portion every time I return.”

Luo Zhao’s fingers paused as she reached for the candied fruit, and the tips of her ears flushed red again.

But she neither nodded nor shook her head.

She merely placed the second piece in her mouth and chewed twice.

Then, in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, she murmured, “Thank you, Pre...”

Before she could finish, Gu Chengyin suddenly leaned toward her and interrupted her.

At the same time, his words reached her ears.

“Between us, there’s no need for thanks.”

“As the Junior Tutor to the Crown Prince, I will impart everything I know in the days to come.”

“So long as Your Highness remembers to repay me with a spring of gratitude.”