Chapter 9: Your Highness, Please—Third Chapter, Asking for Monthly Votes

In the wooden cabin’s room.

Beneath the flicker of an oil lamp, Xia Mingyu tossed and turned on the hard bed, unable to fall asleep.

His thoughts remained trapped in what had happened at dusk.

“I just left like that—Anliya must be terribly disappointed.”

Xia Mingyu held his palm before him, recalling how the girl had diligently cared for him these past days, and felt overwhelming guilt.

He turned his head and saw a full basket of vivid, glistening red fruits sitting in the corner of the room—gifts from Simp, the man he’d met in the orchard today.

The basket of fruit intensified his guilt.

His hand clenched into a tight fist, the knuckles whitening from the strain.

“I want to help them too!”

“But right now, I only bring them disaster.”

“If only my identity’s blessing were real—no, strictly speaking, it seems it truly is real, but it’s useless here!”

“Repaying kindness is my principle, Xia Mingyu—think back to the determination you had when you raised your college entrance exam score by two hundred points in the final three months!”

Xia Mingyu lightly tapped his forehead, trying to force himself to find a solution to this predicament.

“The village’s crisis stems from failing to pay taxes—that is, two words: no money!”

“The cause is that damned Klei merchant who swindled the village, leaving the red fruits unsold and unable to pay the agricultural tax.”

“Wait—the merchant…”

Xia Mingyu faintly felt he had found a way to break the deadlock.

Tap-tap-tap.

As he sank into thought, the door to the room suddenly knocked.

“Your Highness, are you asleep?” came Anliya’s soft voice from outside.

For some reason, Xia Mingyu felt the girl’s voice trembled slightly.

“Not yet.” Thinking of what had happened at dusk, he felt ashamed, and his voice grew naturally lower.

“Your Highness, may I come in?”

“Of course.” Xia Mingyu rose and opened the door.

Only when Anliya stepped into the circle of lamplight did he realize she seemed different today.

Though still wearing the same linen tunic, her golden hair—soft as an autumn wheat field—had clearly just been washed, damp at the ends and carrying a faint, delicate maidenly fragrance that stirred his spirit.

Her fair, delicate cheeks flushed a lovely crimson, and her brilliant blue eyes glistened like those of a newborn fawn, gazing at him.

For some reason, Xia Mingyu sensed a subtle allure in her gaze.

“What is it?”

He was about to ask when he saw the girl slowly unfasten her belt and slip off the tunic.

Beneath it was a beautiful blue dress, its light fabric clinging to her graceful curves, the hem swaying like blue bellflowers trembling in morning mist.

Even in her worn-out clothes, Anliya had rivaled the top stars of the Blue Planet’s entertainment world; now, with her golden hair and blue dress, she was as beautiful as a fairy stepped from a fairy tale—breathtaking, each movement radiating an indescribable charm.

Even Xia Mingyu, who had seen countless beautified internet beauties on his phone, was stunned by the girl’s beauty.

“Your Highness, please take pity on me!”

Before Xia Mingyu could react, a warm, soft body rushed into his arms.

So soft, like cotton candy.

So hot, like a feverish body.

He felt as if a gentle fawn were licking his face, stirring his blood.

“What are you doing?”

Forcing himself to calm down, Xia Mingyu gripped the girl’s smooth shoulders and gently pushed her away.

By the lamplight, he saw Anliya clearly now.

The once cheerful, open girl now had her ears flushed crimson with shame, her body burning hot, her blue eyes clouded with mist.

“Your Highness, I offer you my humble body—only ask you to show mercy and save everyone in the village.”

“Your Highness, I swear before the gods that from now on I will be your faithful servant, obeying every command, devoting my life to you—washing your clothes, combing your hair.”

“Your Highness, please!”

Anliya’s plea trembled with sobs, like a blue bellflower helplessly swaying in the storm, yearning for even a sliver of shelter from a towering tree.

But he was no tree—only a blade of grass drifting with the wind.

“Anliya, calm down,” Xia Mingyu said calmly.

He reached out and gently stroked her golden hair, cascading like a waterfall, to soothe her trembling heart.

“I swear by the kingdom that raised me—I will do everything in my power to help you.”

“But my strength is meager, so my help depends on you also striving to find a solution to your own plight.”

“Is that acceptable, Anliya?” Xia Mingyu asked softly.

Anliya nodded, half-understanding.

Though some parts eluded her—like why such a noble prince would speak so humbly—she understood one thing: Xia Mingyu had decided to help her.

Thinking of this, the heavy stone on her shoulders instantly lightened, and for the first time in a long while, a sweet smile broke through her tear-stained cheeks.

“Your Highness, as agreed, should I remove my clothes myself, or will you?”

“It’s my first time—please be gentle,” Anliya said, blushing, her gaze toward Xia Mingyu now tender.

Everyone she had lived with would be saved; her adoptive father could live his final years in peace; and all she had to give was her body and loyalty—this was the best outcome!

Xia Mingyu: “.”

Silence was tonight’s Cambridge.

He suddenly realized how cruel this world was to commoners.

Cruel enough to make a young girl grateful to a man to whom she offered her body.

“No. Wait until I’ve truly succeeded. And just call me Your Highness.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Until that day comes, I will prepare myself,” the girl bowed low, kneeling on one knee, her bare back glowing like a white wall in the lamplight.

“I will look forward to it,” Xia Mingyu said calmly.

He had not refused outright—like a doctor before life-or-death surgery accepting a family’s red envelope to ease their anxiety.

Though he suspected it was likely a fabricated story, he held the same mindset now.

After all, he didn’t want to see such a wonderful girl cry again.

Who’s still writing at midnight during the New Year? o(╥﹏╥)o

Folks, during this new book’s launch, monthly votes are the most important metric—please give me some monthly votes~

I won’t ask for follows—because asking won’t help; those who want to read will follow anyway, and those who don’t won’t care no matter what.

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(End of Chapter)