Chapter 107: Indeed, It Was a Banquet of Treachery

“Alright then, hurry up.” People always say you shouldn’t refuse twice; to do so would be shameless, especially since they were still on their turf.

The Emperor’s face brightened the moment Su Jingluo agreed. His eyes narrowed into joyful slits, beaming like a child weighing over a hundred pounds.

“Good, good. Come with me. I’ve arranged a banquet at the Plum Blossom Pavilion in the Imperial Garden. We can drink and dine while admiring the plum blossoms, with their faint fragrance wafting through the air,” the Emperor introduced today’s lunch spot to Su Jingluo as if presenting a treasure.

Su Jingluo frowned; this hardly seemed like a simple meal. Big brother, you’re making too much of a fuss. But dining outdoors in the Imperial Garden in midwinter—your lofty ideas will only freeze our legs. We’ll be in a deep freeze before finishing the meal. Still, Su Jingluo didn’t fuss too much; if the environment was unbearable, they’d just leave quickly.

To her surprise, the wealthy and powerful truly knew how to indulge. Around the Plum Blossom Pavilion hung nearly transparent veils of gossamer. Outside the veils, a ring of fire basins burned, with several more inside the pavilion itself. The thin veil softened the view of the plum blossoms outside—slightly hazy but still clear, lending a subtle, dreamlike beauty. Inside, the air was as warm as spring; so much charcoal must have been burned. Just looking at it, Su Jingluo thought, the poor simply cannot fathom how the rich never tire of extravagance.

The stone table beneath the food had a recessed groove running around its edge. Somehow, warm spring water circulated through it, keeping the dishes and wine on the table from cooling. Ancient wisdom was truly reserved for frivolous pleasures. Sitting down, Su Jingluo’s mind began to buzz with sarcastic thoughts.

Not a single servant was in sight—only the Emperor and Su Jingluo. This made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.

“So, how do you like it here?” The Emperor’s eyes sparkled with pride, like a child eagerly awaiting praise.

“Hm, quite a waste of silver,” Su Jingluo shot back bluntly.

“Uh!” The Emperor’s expression collapsed as if he’d just endured an ice bucket challenge in the dead of winter.

“Well, well, I’m a simple man—only see the money. Pretentious elegance is not my forte. Sorry, I’m a bit lacking in sentiment,” the Emperor hurried to explain, his face as bleak as a blizzard in the twelfth lunar month. Even Su Jingluo, no fool, could see it clearly.

“Are you Su Jingluo?” Suddenly, the Emperor’s gaze sharpened, and his tone changed as he fixed her with an intense look.

“Ah, I... I am,” Su Jingluo replied, puzzled. What, if I don’t indulge in your romantic fantasies or feign elegance, I’m not myself?

“No, you’re not. Then who are you?” The Emperor took a decisive sip of wine and said firmly.

“Is there something wrong with my face that Your Majesty doesn’t recognize me?” Su Jingluo touched her face, wondering if she’d changed or if the Emperor’s mind was failing him.

“That’s exactly it. But beneath this face is definitely not my junior sister, right? Someone else is here now,” the Emperor tapped his temple. Su Jingluo’s heart pounded—though transmigration wasn’t her intention, she hadn’t expected to be unmasked so quickly.

“Does Your Majesty have any proof for such a claim?” Su Jingluo decided to stubbornly deny it to the end. If you say it’s not me, then it’s not me.

“Do you know why you fell in love with Xiao Jingxuan? No—why the original Su Jingluo fell in love with Xiao Jingxuan?” The Emperor’s gaze deepened, as if he were peering straight into her soul, trying to unearth the original occupant.