In front of Yin Huayue, Li Jingyun seemed detestable and full of schemes, the kind of man people wished they could throw out of the capital.
Yet every time he sat before Zhuang Shi, he fell silent, his whole body radiating distance.
At such times, Huayue was grateful that Zhuang Shi’s eyes were poor. No matter how deserving of a beating Li Jingyun’s expression looked, she could still say gently to Zhuang Shi, “The flowers bloomed beautifully today—young master said he wanted to come see you the moment he returned to the manor.”
Surprised and moved, Zhuang Shi tugged at her sleeve and said softly, “Quick, pour him some tea first.”
Huayue agreed, poured tea carelessly from the pot for Li Jingyun, then rinsed the cups, filtered water into the pot, and served Zhuang Shi the finest Tieguanyin.
Li Jingyun: “…”
He felt that Yin Huayue must be tired of living.
Zhuang Shi smiled, turning the teacup in her hands, her eyes only faintly able to make out the shadow of the person seated in the master’s chair. She parted her lips, then slowly closed them again, hesitating a long while before asking softly, “Is your health better now?”
“Reporting to Mother, quite well.”
“Then… how is the training grounds?”
“Reporting to Mother, quite well.”
“Are the trees in your courtyard blooming nicely?”
“Reporting to Mother, quite well.”
There was nothing more to say. Zhuang Shi clutched the hem of her skirt, ill at ease.
She wanted so much to be close to Jingyun, wanted so much to hear her son act spoiled with her, even if it were only complaints—to hear about whatever troubles he’d met each day, or whatever happy occasions were worth celebrating.
But there was none of that. Jingyun never wanted to say more than a few words to her.
Zhuang Shi sighed, smiling to herself, and touched her own eyes.
“Madam.” Huayue’s smiling voice suddenly sounded beside her. “On our way back, we passed by Baolai Pavilion. This servant was hurrying to come back and report, but who knew the young master suddenly took a liking to a magnolia hairpin, and insisted this servant buy it back to show you.”
“Do you like it?”
The jade was cool to the touch, smooth in her hand. Zhuang Shi traced its outline, her eyes brightening slightly. “Jingyun bought this?”
“Yes.” Glancing at Li Jingyun, whose face had gone rigid, Huayue leaned close to Zhuang Shi’s ear and said softly, “Our young master has always had a stubborn mouth, on the surface he never says anything nice, but he always remembers what you like.”
Her eyes reddening slightly, Zhuang Shi ran her fingers over the hairpin again and again, her hand trembling as she tried to insert it into her hair. Huayue took it from her and helped fasten it properly, praising, “Madam is naturally beautiful, anything would suit you—but the young master has a discerning eye. This magnolia truly complements you, outshining even the finest blossoms, unmatched in elegance.”
Li Jingyun wore an expression of being thoroughly choked.
He opened his mouth to say that this wretched servant was talking nonsense, but the moment his lips moved, Yin Huayue shot him a glance.
Cold, warning eyes.
Li Jingyun didn’t understand—how dare a mere servant glare at her master? But before he could react, he watched as she coaxed Zhuang Shi into a good mood, then came over to lead him out.
“When did you buy the hairpin?” he asked, bewildered.
“Reporting to young master, this servant has been keeping it in reserve for some time.”
“Then why say I bought it?”
“Reporting to young master, anything at all, as long as it’s said to be from you, Madam will love it.”
Nodding in understanding, Li Jingyun finally came to his senses, grabbed her shoulder, and said darkly, “Since when does a servant get to decide things for her master?”
Huayue folded her hands over her stomach, letting him grip her, smiling as docile as could be. “Young master’s reprimand is just.”
“Don’t put on that face for me, it won’t work.” Li Jingyun sneered. “You glared quite happily at me in there—away from Mother’s presence you tuck your tail right away?”
“Young master’s reprimand is just.”
“Do you think you have someone backing you, so you don’t take me seriously? Yin Huayue, once you came to my courtyard, you became my property. I could find an excuse to throw you into the Managing Hall three times a day.”
Huayue seemed to understand, then nodded. “Young master’s reprimand is just.”
A vein bulging at his temple, Li Jingyun’s fury boiled over. “Don’t fob me off with these empty pleasantries, it’s infuriating just to hear.”
The smile on her face faded slightly. Yin Huayue looked up at him. “Even a mother and son exchange empty pleasantries with each other—why can’t a master and servant do the same?”
Was she lecturing him now? Li Jingyun gritted his teeth, pinching her chin and pulling her close. “A dog given away to someone else, still barking for its former master—how loyal. Since you protect Mother so much, why not go crawl back to the main courtyard?”
If she could, she would very much like to go back to the main courtyard too.
Huayue lowered her eyes, glancing back behind her, unwilling—but only for a moment, before she calmed herself.
“Young master must be worn out from the journey. Better to return to the East Courtyard first to change and freshen up.”
Li Jingyun found her deeply irritating—the person before him was like a ball of cotton, no matter how much force he used he could never knock her down. Yet it was her, with a few soft words, that made him boil with anger.
He had to find a way to deal with her.
When he had a spare moment, Li Jingyun went to the main courtyard and grabbed a servant, asking curiously, “Do you remember when Steward Yin came to the general’s manor?”
The young servant thought for a moment. “It’s been three years. Three years ago the palace sent out a group of servants, and the manor took in ten of them—Steward Yin was among them.”
So she had once served in the palace.
Li Jingyun pursed his lips and asked again, “Does she have any particular preferences, in her daily life?”
The young servant scratched his head with effort. “As for preferences, Steward Yin really doesn’t have any. She works every day, busy from morning to night. But once a month, when she gets her wages, she does go to Baolai Pavilion.”
Baolai Pavilion was the capital’s famous jewelry shop—did she spend all her wages there? Li Jingyun was puzzled; he’d never noticed any fine jewelry on her head.
Recalling the magnolia hairpin Yin Huayue had produced out of nowhere that day, Li Jingyun paused, and inspiration suddenly struck.
Huayue returned from the back courtyard carrying water when she saw Li Jingyun standing by the corridor waiting for her.
“Does young master have some order?” she asked warily, holding the water bucket.
Li Jingyun stretched leisurely and said with great ease, “I have an appointment with someone tonight.”
“Reporting to young master, the General has ordered…”
“If you pretend not to see, tomorrow I’ll buy jewelry from Baolai Pavilion and deliver it to the main courtyard myself.”
“…” Her pupils shrank suddenly, Huayue looked up, stunned.
He—give jewelry to Madam, on his own initiative?
In all the time she’d been at the manor, Li Jingyun had almost always had to be dragged bodily into the main courtyard, never willing to show Madam warmth on his own—if not for her constant coaxing, Madam would have been infuriated to death long ago.
But just now, what had she heard?
The man before her turned his face aside, eyes narrowed slightly, looking somewhat impatient. Sensing her gaze, his head didn’t move, but his eyes turned slightly back toward her, and he smiled sidelong: “The General’s order, or Madam’s happiness—which matters more?”
Yin Huayue’s expression was, for a moment, quite something to behold.
She was an obedient servant; the General, as the manor’s true master, gave orders she must certainly obey. Even if Madam was brought up to argue with her, as a steward, she absolutely could not show favoritism.
Wind swept through the corridor, wind chimes under the eaves ringing on and on, making the surroundings all the more still by contrast.
After a long moment, a slightly hoarse voice sounded in the corridor.
“How long will young master be gone?”
For some reason, Li Jingyun suddenly burst out laughing. One laugh wasn’t enough—he leaned against the vermilion stone pillar beside him, laughing until his shoulders shook, laughing until Huayue’s face turned green.
Huayue wanted to slam the water bucket over his head. Of course, it was only a thought.
Patiently waiting for this man to finish laughing, she bent her knee and asked again, “How long will young master be gone?”
“One hour.” Li Jingyun wiped away a tear of laughter and held up an index finger toward her. “I’ll be back in one hour, guaranteed no one will find out.”
Huayue thought for a moment, then said, “Madam already has the hairpin. Might I trouble young master to bring back a comb as well—in the magnolia design.”
She paused, then added, “If there’s a dangling hairpin too, that would be even better.”
Li Jingyun truly hadn’t expected an opening to appear here—the person who had sworn to never disobey the General’s orders was now solemnly giving him leeway.
“Leave through the west side gate at the end of the You hour, and be sure to return before the Hai hour.”
“There’s a dog kept at the west side gate. Before returning, please throw a stone at the courtyard wall first, so this servant can come let you in.”
“Young master, is that clear?”
Perhaps his gaze was too teasing—Yin Huayue finally grew annoyed, pressing her lips together, her tone turning cold. “If you’re discovered, this servant will immediately bring people to seize young master.”
“Truly cold-blooded and merciless.”
Li Jingyun sighed with feeling, yet found it amusing too.
Yin Huayue was like a blade without feeling, sharp and cold, always causing people trouble everywhere. But when she suddenly revealed a weak spot, she seemed to turn back into a living, breathing person.
For a moment, he wanted to reach out and touch that pale, high-held neck of hers.
But that move might well get him a face full of water.
Li Jingyun shook his head and, with regret, withdrew his hand.