Huaisang lifted his head in innocent confusion as Wang Lingjiao spoke to him as though she was still a high-ranking mistress. That month and a half in the dungeon clearly hadn't made much of an impact on her attitude. He shut his book, slipping it into his sleeve and replacing it with his fan, which he opened between them as a courteous defensive wall. "Me?"

It was no surprise that she didn't recognize him. They'd been in the same location more than once, but they'd never had a reason to interact.

He sat up straight, eyes wide and scared under the force of her temper, hiding behind his fan. "Ah, Wang Lingjiao..." he started, gentle and pacifying, lowering his fan just enough to give her a pleading, placating look.