Li Jingyun pursed his lips: “You’re a servant—don’t you know the less you know, the longer you live?”

“That young master left the manor today was this servant’s oversight; that you returned injured is also this servant’s responsibility—this servant ought to ask.”

“Then why didn’t you just turn me in?”

“This servant feared Madam would worry.”

As expected.

Li Jingyun found it amusing: “You’re a maid in my courtyard now—as long as I wish it, I could keep you here in the East Courtyard forever. You should learn to think of me as your master.”

Huayue rolled her eyes.

Slightly stunned, he laughed in exasperation and pinched her chin, pulling her close: “Do you think I’m blind?”

“Young master, careful with your hand,” Huayue smiled. “This servant’s eyes just hurt a moment ago, there was no intent to disrespect young master.”

Not only did she think him blind, but a fool too.

Withdrawing his bandaged arm, Li Jingyun ground his teeth: “You may leave.”

Unhurriedly putting away the bottles and jars by the bed, Huayue looked up and asked, “What about the things young master bought?”

“…” Slightly stunned, Li Jingyun’s bluster instantly deflated, and he turned his head away guiltily.

Huayue stared at him for a moment, her expression suddenly darkening. “Young master went back on his word?”

“It’s a long story, and not really my fault,” he said vaguely. “Something happened on the way back, I didn’t get the chance to go to Baolai Pavilion.”

“Young master agreed to it when you left.”

“I was just about to go buy it too, who could have known…” Li Jingyun pursed his lips. “How about you let me out again tomorrow.”

“…”

Huayue smiled falsely, pointed at the carved main door, then shook her head with certainty.

No way.

Once wasn’t enough, and now he wanted to go out a second time? Who did he think she was? The general’s manor’s pass-token for leaving the grounds?

“Young master, please rest well,” she said, rising to bow. “This servant will wait outside the door.”

“Hey…” He still wanted to say something, but Yin Huayue had already swiftly shut the door.

A “bang” sounded, carrying some heat of temper.

Li Jingyun truly wanted to drag her back and give her a beating—since when did a servant get to make faces at her master? Even if… even if he was somewhat at fault, she had no business being this arrogant a servant.

It was just a broken hairpin—when could it not be bought?

Lying down angrily, Li Jingyun looked with disdain at the bandage wrapped around his arm, fell silent for a long while, and finally decided that tomorrow he would still send someone to Baolai Pavilion, to appease this fang-baring dog.

But before he could act, Yin Huayue acted first.

It was known throughout the East Courtyard that this young master had a severe temper upon waking—whoever went to rouse him would get pelted with something. Huayue’s reflexes were always sharp, and every time she managed to dodge the pillow or ornament he threw.

But today, at the crack of dawn, Huayue didn’t dodge.

She took Li Jingyun’s favorite painting, the Eight Steeds, and swiftly, precisely caught the red sandalwood wrist rest he threw.

A full spin and a half, perfect score; landing pose, perfect score; sincere smile, perfect score.

Only the Eight Steeds painting had a hole torn in it.

Li Jingyun finally woke fully, opened his eyes, and nearly fainted again from anger.

“What are you doing!”

Huayue stroked the painting with great pity, and upon hearing him, looked at him with reproach in her eyes: “What is young master doing?”

“Me?”

“This painting is a work by Master Tang, which the General went to great lengths to buy for you. There’s only this one in the whole capital—in both brushwork and mounting, it’s a treasure among treasures. How could you bear to smash it?”

“I…”

Li Jingyun was baffled: “I smashed it?”

Huayue looked toward the several rough servants standing behind her; the witnesses all nodded in unison: “Young master smashed it.”

“No matter how displeased young master is upon waking, you shouldn’t throw things at the painting—what a pity.”

Li Jingyun was bewildered for a moment, his expression gradually turning fierce: “Are you taking revenge on me on purpose?”

“Young master.” Huayue’s eyes were full of disbelief. “How could you think such a thing—this servant serves young master wholeheartedly, naturally putting young master’s interests first in all things. If this painting weren’t young master’s treasure, this servant certainly wouldn’t care so much.”

Her gaze was so utterly sincere that Li Jingyun began to doubt himself—could he really have been wrong?

As it turned out, in the blink of an eye, he’d eaten the breakfast she brought him and spent half an hour with diarrhea.

Li Jingyun was driven to laughter from sheer anger.

A mountain cannot hold two tigers—not even one male and one female.

Forget the hairpin—he and Yin Huayue would fight to the death, no rest!

Spring days were clear and bright, a hundred flowers blooming throughout the General’s manor, yet within the East Courtyard smoke and fire raged, the atmosphere grim.

Huayue now had even more work to do, essentially aimed at working her to death, but she wasn’t foolish—whenever she went out she’d find help if she could, and when she truly couldn’t, she’d endure it alone rather than let this young master see her humiliated.

Li Jingyun, too, refused to be outdone, tormenting her in ever more inventive ways. To appear sophisticated about it, he even had someone fetch masterpieces like “Compendium of Wei-Liang Tortures” and “Prisons of the Former Wei” for reference.

The East Courtyard, usually cold and quiet, had somehow grown lively.

Within a few days it was time for Miss Han’s birthday. According to reliable news, Miss Han had already returned to her household, and had also sent an invitation to the General’s manor.

Li Jingyun lounged in the courtyard with his legs crossed, and upon hearing the servant’s report, spat out an orange seed and sneered: “Not going.”

Qin Sheng scratched his head: “The General’s manor and the Han family have always been on good terms. By rights, young master ought to attend.”

“I don’t have time.”

Qin Sheng was puzzled: “It’s also been a long while since young master went to the training grounds. Your injury should be healed by now too—what has young master been busy with?”

Turning his head toward a certain corner of the courtyard, Li Jingyun pursed his lips in great displeasure.

Qin Sheng followed his gaze and saw Steward Yin weeding with a bowl of water balanced on her head.

“This… what is she doing?” Qin Sheng asked, puzzled. “Practicing some skill?”

“Steward Yin’s skill is unmatched—that bowl of water on her head won’t spill a drop all day, what more training does she need?”

Qin Sheng looked at her with admiration, then asked curiously, “What happens if it spills?”

“Nothing much,” Li Jingyun said, chewing on an orange slice. “She’d just go to the Managing Hall to take ten lashes.”

Qin Sheng: “…”

Li Jingyun looked left and right, thoroughly displeased: “Do you have any way to give her trouble?”

“Young master, Steward Yin is just a woman—why bother scheming against her.”

“Just a what? A woman?” Li Jingyun grabbed Qin Sheng’s head and turned it toward Yin Huayue, saying in disbelief, “Do you know what kind of monster she is? Put her on the training grounds and she’d be an unbeatable warrior, impervious to blade and spear, immune to all poisons.”

“How could that be…”

“Don’t believe me?” Li Jingyun patted his shoulder. “If you can think of a way to get her out of the East Courtyard, I’ll give you the fine sword just sent from the Qingye Workshop.”

Qin Sheng thought Li Jingyun was being far too childish—he was a grown man, how could he go after a woman over a mere sword?

His eyes turning, Qin Sheng said righteously, “Young master, this humble one has a good idea.”