The bright moon hangs high, beckoning him down from his pedestal.

Summer is gradually reaching its hottest time, with cicadas chirping incessantly and the sun blazing down.

On the surface, the palace was calm and peaceful. The Jiaofang Palace and Yilan Palace were both closed, as if the conflict at Shen Jingyan's birthday banquet had never happened.

However, the court was not so peaceful.

After entering the court, Shen Yinian became more composed and fair in his dealings. He handled several tasks well and gradually began to distinguish himself.

Some senior officials who adhered to etiquette and valued the distinction between legitimate and illegitimate sons looked at the young prince with more expectation, and there was a growing trend of supporting the eldest legitimate son.

These rumors naturally reached Shen Wangxi's ears.

He didn't show it on his face, but his eyes would darken whenever he heard certain ministers praising Shen Yinian and hinting at the establishment of an heir.

In contrast to the delicate situation in the imperial court, the scene inside the Taiji Hall was quite different.

Although Shen Qingruo had fair skin and a delicate figure, she was also sensitive to heat. The ice in Yilan Palace was never enough for her, and it would melt in no time, making the air stuffy again.

She then found an excuse to stay in Shen Wangxi's Taiji Hall every day.

The ice offerings in the emperor's bedroom were naturally unlimited; the enormous ice mirrors emitted a cool breeze, dispelling the summer heat.

Shen Qingruo wore a light, turquoise gauze dress, like a cat craving coolness, wishing she could stick her whole body to the ice.

She also came up with some novel ideas, having the palace servants chill fresh fruits and vegetables on ice, cut them into small and cute shapes, and serve them on white jade plates.

She ate happily by herself, occasionally picking up a piece and offering it to Shen Wangxi, who was reviewing memorials.

"Your Majesty, try this. It's icy cold and very sweet," she said in a soft, sweet voice.

Shen Wangxi's gaze remained fixed on the memorial, but she naturally opened her mouth to answer it.

The sweet juice melts in your mouth, which does indeed dispel some of the summer heat.

Shen Qingruo's excuse for coming to Taiji Hall was to have a beautiful woman by his side to help him with his official duties.

But her delicate hands could only hold the ink stick for a few strokes before she began to complain in a spoiled tone, "Your Majesty, my hands are sore."

She put down the inkstone, rubbed her wrist, and looked at him expectantly.

Shen Wangxi didn't even look up, only saying calmly, "Then rest."

Upon hearing this, Shen Qingruo immediately moved closer to him, not disturbing him, and quietly lay on his lap, or flipped through some random stories.

Shen Wangxi had little expression on her face, and spent most of her time focused on reading the memorials, only occasionally stroking her long hair.

But only he knew how much he loved having such a girl by his side, her fragrance lingering in his nostrils.

He enjoyed this silent companionship, and he enjoyed her dependent posture.

Occasionally, when Shen Wangxi saw probing words about establishing an heir in a memorial, he would subconsciously glance at the well-behaved girl beside him, then look at her lower abdomen, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

Shen Qingruo keenly noticed his gaze, looked up, gave him a sweet smile, and fed him a chilled lychee.

Shen Wangxi opened his mouth and ate, suppressing his complicated thoughts, then pulled the person into his arms and played with their slender hands.

"Are your hands still sore?" he asked, referring to her complaint while grinding the ink.

Shen Qingruo shook her head and took the opportunity to make a request: "It's not sour anymore. Your Majesty, I'd like to eat this lychee again tomorrow."

"Okay," he replied readily.

-

Not two days later, at the morning court session, an official from the Ministry of Rites stepped forward to submit a memorial:

"Your Majesty, it is now the height of summer, and the heat is unbearable. To ensure Your Majesty's health, shall we follow the old custom and move to the Western Hills Palace to escape the heat?"

Shen Wangxi sat on the dragon throne, his expression calm.

He grew up in the desert, where the sun was even more intense than in the Central Plains. Yet he still rode his horse and shot arrows without ever feeling the need to seek refuge from the heat.

The word "no need" was almost on Shen Wangxi's lips, but then she thought of Aruo.

These past few days, the little girl has been sitting on a small embroidered stool next to the ice jar, her green skirt spread out on the ground, as if she wanted to press her little body against it, both greedy for coolness and adorable.

The words lingered in his throat, but he changed his mind: "Okay. You should draft a plan first."

The official from the Ministry of Rites immediately bowed and said, "Your subject obeys the decree."