Not noticing her breath catch, Huayue immediately shut her eyes, pretending to already be asleep, gripping the edge of the bed even tighter.

She didn’t know what Li Jingyun meant by those words, but she simply didn’t dare move, her heart pounding rapidly, her ears growing hot. She wore only her inner garments, the thin fabric pressed against the bedding, letting her feel every softness beneath — let alone anything more…

But thankfully, after those two words, Li Jingyun said nothing more. He tucked in the edge of the blanket, gave a yawn, and stopped moving.

The taut string within her slowly relaxed; she let out half a breath, tentatively opening one eye to glance sideways.

Tonight’s moonlight was bright and clear, streaming through the flowered window, half the room bathed in soft light, falling across his high, straight nose bridge, sketching out a fine mountain-ridge silhouette. He seemed tired too, his lashes lowered, breathing steady and even, the collar of his blue inner robe slightly open, his throat moving faintly.

Huayue watched, growing more and more confused, unable to understand why he was here, and even less why she herself was here. Slowly, she withdrew her gaze and closed her eyes too.

This sleep wasn’t particularly restful, since she was perched at the very edge of the bed — she woke with a start several times from a sudden sense of falling, and eventually, too exhausted to keep it up, shifted a little further inward.

Li Jingyun hadn’t been asleep at all — the moment Yin Huayue’s eyes had closed, his had opened, watching with amusement as she nearly slipped off the bed several times, then watching with equal amusement as she gradually shifted closer to him.

By day, Steward Yin appeared so rigid and strict, yet curled up in the blanket now, she was just a small huddled shape, hair loose and spread across the pillow, her forehead unusually pale and fair. Her hands both gripped the edge of the blanket, curled into small fists, as if guarding against something.

Smiling silently, Li Jingyun propped his head up with one hand, took the folding fan he always carried, snapped it open, and reached it out past the edge of the bed, fanning her gently.

The mountain’s spring air was still slow to warm this time of year, and after the rain, the night had grown rather cold. Even in her sleep, Huayue felt the chill, instinctively curling further into the blanket, shifting again, and bumping into something warm — without thinking, she reached out and hugged it.

His arm grew warm; Li Jingyun, satisfied, put away the fan and tucked the blanket around her once more.

Now, this was what being obedient looked like.

If Wen Guzhi had been present, he surely would have recorded this shameless, brazen behavior in some notebook to be passed down as an unofficial history — but fortunately, he wasn’t here, so Li Jingyun continued watching the person beside him without restraint, his eyes filled with a tenderness and joy he himself hadn’t even noticed.

The place in his chest that had always felt empty now seemed suddenly filled to the brim, solid and a little swollen, making him unable to help but want to smile.

Just a dog he’d tricked into his hands, nothing special — he was simply happy the goal had been achieved so smoothly.

That’s how Li Jingyun explained it to himself, then contentedly continued watching the person beside him.

……

At the first light of dawn, Huayue woke. She turned over drowsily, lazily rubbing against the blanket, then realized something felt off about it.

It was blue, and still warm.

Startled, she suddenly looked up — only to bump her head straight into something, with a loud thunk.

“Ow.” Li Jingyun winced, covering his chin, looking down at her, his gaze deep and full of anger.

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then jolted, pushing him away and sitting up on her knees, hands folded together, saying anxiously, “This servant has offended you.”

A flash of clear displeasure crossed his eyes. Li Jingyun rubbed his chin. “The self-address you were just taught yesterday, and today you’re already reverting?”

Huayue froze, then quickly corrected herself. “This concubine acknowledges her fault.”

“Kneeling and admitting fault first thing in the morning, what’s there to admit fault over?” He still looked half-asleep, glancing toward the sky outside, then reached out and pulled her back down, his heavy arm pressing down from her shoulder, forcing her back onto the pillow.

“So early — what’s the rush to get up for.”

Checking the time, Huayue was startled. “It’s already the hour of the Tiger. This concubine needs to go instruct the kitchen on today’s meals, and check the luggage with the accompanying servants. The white deer in the back courtyard needs feeding too — naturally I need to get up.”

She tried to pry his arm off her, but the moment she exerted force, he abruptly pulled her entirely into his embrace, chin resting on top of her head, saying impatiently, “This lord hasn’t woken up yet. Don’t be noisy.”

Huayue’s eyes went wide in his embrace. Shifting slightly, her breath filled with the scent of sandalwood from him. Her eyes drifted upward, seeing only the wrinkles of his blue inner robe.

Her face grew inexplicably warm; she mumbled quietly, “If you’re not awake yet, keep sleeping. This concubine should get up.”

Li Jingyun, eyes closed, said in a heavy, nasal voice, “Sleep another hour.”

Having said this, as if afraid she might resist again, he patted the top of her head.

Huayue: “…”

Previously at the General’s Manor, with so many chores to do each day, she’d only ever gotten two hours of sleep. Now, pressed down like this, she reluctantly closed her eyes, and found that she wasn’t entirely unable to fall back asleep after all.

Her long-exhausted mind gradually relaxed, the tension that had been holding her together finally loosening. Huayue yawned, buried in his embrace, and truly fell back asleep.

His half-lidded dark eyes gazed at her, transfixed. Li Jingyun twirled a strand of her black hair spread across his fingers, tiny points of light gradually brightening in his eyes.

While he indulged in this romantic reverie, back at the original courtyard, chaos had erupted. Wen Guzhi and Xu Changyi had received the news early that morning and rushed over, only to find Shen Zhiluo sitting grimly in the main room.

“What happened?” Wen Guzhi looked toward Su Miao beside him.

Su Miao, chin propped on both hands, turned at the sound, smiling brightly. “You two are here — nothing much really. I heard yesterday that Cousin was taking a concubine and wanted to come see. Turns out there was no one in the room; I waited a whole night and they still hadn’t come back.”

Was this really “nothing much”?

Xu Changyi’s face turned green; he stood stunned for a while, processing the implications of Miss Su’s words, then looked at Shen Zhiluo. “Grand Diviner, why are you here too?”

Shen Zhiluo pressed his lips together, saying nothing, only sweeping a slightly hostile glance toward him.

“Why are you glaring at me?” Xu Changyi, also quick-tempered, immediately flared up. “This is the Third Young Master’s room. Miss Su, being from the General’s Manor, has every reason to sit here. You’re an outsider — what right do you have to put on such a face here?”

Wen Guzhi quickly pulled him back, smiling and lowering his voice. “It’s early morning, everyone’s been woken up, tempers are running short. Let’s all calm down.”

Su Miao shifted her position, stepping in front of Shen Zhiluo, continuing to smile. “It’s simple enough, no need to panic. Cousin’s a grown man now — he won’t get lost in this temporary palace. At most, having just taken a concubine and being in a good mood, he’s probably taking her around somewhere. Let’s just wait for him to come back.”

Wen Guzhi nodded in agreement.

Xu Changyi turned to glare at him. “How are you not the least bit surprised? The Third Young Master taking a concubine — a concubine! You haven’t even asked who it is, or why he suddenly did this?”

Wen Guzhi froze, awkwardly scratching the side of his face, not yet answering, when Su Miao laughed and cut in. “Cousin couldn’t have pulled this off alone. Since you clearly didn’t know about it, Physician Wen must have been involved somehow.”

She thought about it, then snapped her fingers. “Young Master Liu probably knew something about it too.”

Xu Changyi’s eyes widened, stunned for a while, then looked a little hurt. “So they kept it from me on purpose?”

Wen Guzhi, full of kindly sympathy, patted his shoulder. “It’s not that the Third Young Master was excluding you on purpose. You got drunk yesterday and got into a fight with someone — there wasn’t really time to tell you.”

That did seem to make sense, and it wasn’t really the Third Young Master’s fault. Xu Changyi, resentful, thumped his own thigh, then pulled at him, asking, “Who did he take?”

Glancing at Shen Zhiluo with some interest, Wen Guzhi laughed. “Who else could it be — there’s only that one girl by the young master’s side.”

Shen Zhiluo looked up, his gaze icy and forceful.

Rarely seeing him this angry, Su Miao raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You haven’t slept all night — your body can’t take it. Lord Shen, you should go back to your room first. I’ll have someone keep watch and let you know the moment Cousin returns.”

She curved her brows sweetly, leaning her head down toward him. “Bags under your eyes wouldn’t look too good.”

“No need to trouble yourself, Miss Su.” Full of anger, unable to speak calmly at all, every word he spoke sparked with fire. “I’d like to wait here.”

The smile on her face stiffened, then faded somewhat, her fox-like eyes fixing steadily on his. “This isn’t the way to treat someone kindly — do you have anything better to do here?”

“That’s none of your concern.” He frowned.

Such an attitude was quite disrespectful; even Xu Changyi, watching from the side, couldn’t stand it and rolled up his sleeves, ready to argue with him.

But before he could take a step, Su Miao had already lifted her leg and set her foot on the couch Shen Zhiluo was sitting on — a sharp slap sounding out, her red skirts flaring bright and vivid as flame.

“Not troubling me, and none of my concern — then why did you agree to the marriage in the first place?”

She stared directly at him, not flinching in the least. “Did I hear wrong, or did you object when the Crown Prince first brought up the marriage?”

His brow furrowed deeper; Shen Zhiluo glanced at the embroidered shoe stepping beside him, feeling somehow even angrier. “You’re a young lady — where did you learn such manners?”

“I’m asking you a question — answer it first,” she said, chin lifted. “If the Grand Diviner says no right now, I’ll go straight to the Crown Prince to call off the engagement.”

His expression darkened; Shen Zhiluo closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

Wen Guzhi stepped forward with a smile, smoothing things over. “A marriage already sanctioned by His Highness the Crown Prince — how could it possibly be called off? Miss Su, please calm your anger. Lord Shen is just in a poor mood from lack of sleep.”

“He can be in a poor mood toward others, that’s fine.” Su Miao pressed her lips together, stubbornly. “Just not toward me.”

The words, fierce as they started, ended with a hint of grievance, her voice even trembling slightly.

Shen Zhiluo heard it, and let out a helpless breath, sweeping his sleeve to pour the cold tea beside him and hand it to her.

“Just a broken teacup, and cold too.” She grumbled unhappily, but still reached out and took it, tilting her head back to drink it down.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

Su Miao pouted, propping her chin back on her hand to look at him, saying resentfully, “You can’t just keep being fierce with me and then coaxing me.”

Xu Changyi watched all this with great feeling — no wonder they said those afflicted by love-gu were fools. Someone of Miss Su’s caliber, showing not the slightest bit of temper in front of Shen Zhiluo, bending however was needed.

This Shen Zhiluo was strange too — clearly not fond of Su Miao, yet still willing to yield to her. That corpse-like face of his was infuriating to look at, but at least his brows had loosened somewhat now.

“The divination reading says the Third Young Master shouldn’t have taken a concubine this trip — that great disaster would follow otherwise. That’s why I’ve been so anxious.” After a long silence, he finally explained.

Su Miao raised an eyebrow at this, though nothing else about her changed.

Shen Zhiluo found this puzzling. “Aren’t you worried about your cousin?”

“Worried, of course I’m worried, but this divination…” Su Miao laughed lightly, her eyes full of teasing. “The divination also says you and I have no fated bond.”

His expression stiffened slightly; Shen Zhiluo felt a flicker of irritation. “Forcing fate against its course — how can you blame the divination for being inaccurate?”

“If the divination couldn’t even predict my going against fate, then what’s the point of trusting it?” Su Miao said, unbothered. “According to what Imperial Physician Wen said, Cousin took his own Steward Yin as a concubine. I’ve met that girl a couple of times before — she used to serve under Madam Zhuang. She’s a good person, not the sort to bring harm to my cousin.”

Rising in anger, Shen Zhiluo said, “What if your cousin brings harm to her instead?”

Su Miao froze, not yet able to respond, when a voice cut in coldly from the doorway: “That’s none of your business either.”

Everyone turned toward the sound in unison, to see Li Jingyun striding through the doorway, morning sunlight pouring over his sky-blue carp-patterned robe. Half a step behind him, Yin Huayue followed him in — her previously half-loose hair now neatly gathered up high, her clothing changed to a new style.

Xu Changyi let out a whoop and rushed over. “Third Young Master, congratulations on this great joy!”

Li Jingyun, quick to react, pressed a hand on his shoulder and smiled faintly. “Don’t forget to add to the wedding gift.”

“No problem.” Xu Changyi glanced past him toward the person behind him, sighing with emotion. “Round and round it went, and in the end it was still her, huh.”

Something about this remark sounded off. Huayue looked up in confusion, only to find Su Miao already coming forward to greet her.

“Steward Yin.” She blinked at her, then shook her head. “No, wait — shouldn’t I now call you Little Sister-in-law?”

Su Miao had always been a pleasant person, and Huayue had a good impression of her, so she curtsied toward her as well. “Miss Su.”

“I never counted on this old iron tree suddenly blooming here.” Circling around her twice, Su Miao clapped her hands and laughed. “I’ll have to tell Madam Zhuang when we’re back — quite the double blessing.”

“Double blessing?” Huayue didn’t understand.

Su Miao happily pulled Shen Zhiluo forward from behind. “You and my cousin have gotten together, and Lord Shen and I are about to be engaged too — isn’t that a double blessing?”

The four of them stood facing each other. Li Jingyun smiled faintly, though that same restless irritation stirred within him once more.

He had expected a scene like this. Having personally arranged the match between Su Miao and Shen Zhiluo, and having schemed his way into taking Huayue as his concubine, he’d known she and Shen Zhiluo would sooner or later end up standing face to face like this, each lamenting their own fate, their shallow bond with the other.

Since childhood, there had never been anything in this world that the Third Young Master couldn’t obtain. Yin Huayue was no exception — even if her heart belonged to someone else, he had every means to ensure they could only exchange tearful glances, never able to act on it.

Having achieved his aim, by rights he should now be here to enjoy the show — but for some reason, the moment he imagined the resentment and reluctance that might appear in Yin Huayue’s eyes toward Shen Zhiluo, he felt irritated instead.

Irritated enough that he wanted to drag her away from here at once.

“Oh?” Su Miao suddenly spoke. “Do you know my Little Sister-in-law?”

Li Jingyun turned his head and saw Shen Zhiluo’s face pale, staring at the person beside him, bloodshot lines in his eyes making him look almost feral.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Li Jingyun turned and stepped in front of him, blocking him entirely, then lowered his head to look at Yin Huayue. “Come have breakfast with me.”

Huayue looked up, her clear, unclouded eyes meeting his. “Didn’t we already eat when we came in?”

The restlessness in his chest, as if doused with a ladle of clear spring water, faded instantly; Li Jingyun was taken aback, looking at her in surprise.

She didn’t seem the least bit troubled — not even a flicker of response toward Shen Zhiluo’s anger. Her fair face, catching the morning light, was tinged with a warm glow, her whole demeanor gentle and calm.

“Weren’t you full?” she thought about it and added, “Should this concubine have the kitchen send more over?”

This concubine.

Hearing this self-address, Shen Zhiluo closed his eyes. Li Jingyun really was skilled — moving fast enough that no one had the slightest chance to intervene. And Yin Huayue was capable too, willing to so readily entrust her entire life to someone else.

Trying to spite him, just to prove she wouldn’t grow old alone?

Nearly laughing from anger, he swept his sleeves sharply. “There’s nothing more for me here. I’ll take my leave.”

“Not seeing you off.” Li Jingyun said with a smile.

Su Miao looked at them both, baffled, about to ask something, but after weighing it, waved a hand instead. “Consider the clothes and jewelry my wedding gift to Little Sister-in-law. May the two of you enjoy a flourishing, harmonious life together — I’ll go check on him.”

“Not seeing you off either.”

The two of them ran out one after the other, and the main room fell suddenly quiet. Li Jingyun took Yin Huayue’s small hand and looked toward the two remaining people, still cracking sunflower seeds and watching the show.

Xu Changyi, startled by his gaze, nearly choked on a seed shell, hastily saying, “We only just got here — surely we don’t have to leave too?”

“You two aren’t leaving.” He led her to sit down on the couch, handed her a bag of preserved fruit to eat, then looked up at Wen Guzhi. “There’s plenty of work to be done.”

“What do you mean?” Xu Changyi, baffled, leaned in. “What kind of work?”

Patting his shoulder, Wen Guzhi said, “Don’t sit idle today either — go up the mountain and do some hunting.”

“None of you are going, so who am I supposed to hunt with alone?”

“Liu-xiong is already up there.” Wen Guzhi smiled. “Just head east and find him.”

A flicker of understanding crossed his eyes; Xu Changyi didn’t ask further, tossed away his sunflower seeds, and rose. “Then I won’t intrude any longer.”

He nodded toward Huayue, who lowered her head in return, watching him quickly stride out through the doorway, pressing her lips together lightly.

“Don’t move.” Li Jingyun gripped her fingers, saying with evident distaste, “Why haven’t you trimmed your nails?”

Turning back, she flushed slightly, trying to pull her hand back. “All servants are like this.”

“I said don’t move.” He frowned, gripping her hand firmly, taking out a pair of scissors from a drawer to carefully trim away the hangnails on her finger.

The sun had risen, golden light pouring in through the front doors, brightening the whole room considerably. Wen Guzhi stared, dumbfounded, at the two people on the couch, feeling somewhat dazzled.

What had the Third Young Master said before? Just a maid, unimportant — what mattered was dealing with the Princess Imperial and the Han family.

Yet here he was now — an “unimportant” maid, and he was personally taking up scissors to trim her nails? Most absurd of all, Yin Huayue looked entirely ordinary, dutifully kneeling beside him in the manner befitting a proper concubine, yet this lord insisted on pulling her into his embrace, flustering her until her face flushed red.

If it weren’t for fear that those scissors might suddenly go flying his way, Wen Guzhi truly wanted to ask whether the man’s real intent was the wine or the company.

“Reckoning the time, I should get to the pharmacy too.” He rose with a sigh. “I’ll certainly be summoned today, so I’d best prepare my medicine chest early. The two of you should rest. I’ll take my leave first.”

Hearing this, Huayue’s heart tightened.

The door opened and closed again; the room now held only the two of them. Li Jingyun tossed the scissors aside and glanced at her. “Scrunching up your face like that — what are you worrying about now?”

“Nothing.” She lowered her eyes, cheeks puffing slightly. “This concubine is worrying about what to have for lunch.”

Unable to resist, he reached out and poked her cheek. Li Jingyun said through gritted teeth, “You’re so used to being a servant, you don’t even know how to enjoy yourself, do you? Now that you’re with me, why worry about such things?”

The person before her kept her posture composed, though her eyes began darting about again. “Then… what should this concubine be worrying about now?”

“Worrying about how to keep this lord happy.” He raised an eyebrow, his gaze falling on her brows, which had suddenly furrowed then quickly relaxed, amusement rising in his eyes again. “That’s all a concubine needs to do.”

Huayue wasn’t particularly pleased with this, but didn’t dare show it, lowering her head to look at her own skirt hem, her whole bearing radiating obedience.

“Young Master.” A young servant boy suddenly rushed to the doorway, saying anxiously, “The Princess Imperial sends word that you’re to begin the hunt today. It’s already getting late — you should set off quickly.”

At these words, the person beside him trembled slightly.

Li Jingyun looked at her with amusement, reaching out to gather her small hand into his palm, then rose from the couch. “Let’s go — today there’s a real hunt to be had.”

She said nothing, following him out to mount their horses and head toward the hunting grounds, keeping her head low the entire way, no different from how she used to behave as a servant — eyes lowered, demeanor humble.

Today’s trip to the hunting grounds was bound to be far from peaceful; her soft, vulnerable demeanor left Li Jingyun somewhat concerned.

Yet, three sticks of incense later.

Huayue stood atop the viewing platform at the hunting ground, a faint smile at her lips.

The Princess Imperial’s gaze today was especially frightening, her expression coldly severe. The servants all around dared not even breathe too loudly; even Han Shuang beside her had been frightened into sitting further away.

But Huayue seemed to notice none of it, standing closest to the Princess Imperial, quietly looking down at her own fingers.

“I’ve heard there’s been quite a commotion in Jingyun’s courtyard.” The Princess Imperial said with a smile that carried no warmth. “Since I’m bored anyway, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Hearing this, Huayue stepped forward before her, bowing respectfully. “This servant is guilty. Please, Your Highness, punish me as you see fit.”

Those around who had already been listening in now all turned to look over.

Li Jingyun looked up too, just in time to see, beneath the phoenix throne, what looked like a begonia blossom unfolding — Huayue kneeling with dignity, unbowed, her head lowered slightly, a strand of loose hair falling from behind her ear, brushing lightly against her cheek.

Zhou Ji lowered her eyes to look at her, saying solemnly, “What crime have you committed?”

She pressed her lips together, the corner of her mouth curving into the faintest smile, her amber eyes turning toward him — her gaze gentle, full of longing.

“As a servant, to covet the young master’s brilliance — that is truly an unforgivable crime.”

His heart, entirely unguarded, was struck suddenly, without warning.

Li Jingyun stared at her, stunned, lost for a fleeting moment.