Outside, the laughter and chatter from the others suddenly cut off, no one quite sure why.

Huayue felt her expression was fairly composed — it was just that her neck had grown a bit hot. She turned her head away and said in a low, mildly annoyed voice, “There are still people outside.”

Li Jingyun coughed lightly and straightened up, calling out toward the outside, “Anyone there?”

“No one,” Su Miao, Wen Guzhi, and the others all answered in unison.

Huayue: “…”

The person before her smiled smugly, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “Hear that? No one.”

She slapped him away with one hand and, flustered and embarrassed, gathered her sleeves and dashed outside, moving so quickly that he couldn’t even catch her in time.

The curtain over the partition lifted and fell, brushing past the side of his face, soft and lingering.

“Little sister-in-law?” A round of teasing calls rose from outside, but she seemed not to hear, her footsteps flustered as she headed straight for the door.

Had he teased her too far? Li Jingyun withdrew his hand with some regret and stood up straight, glaring at the group of culprits outside.

“That’s not our fault.” Meeting his gaze, Su Miao shook her head repeatedly. “Can’t even handle your own woman — who’s to blame for that?”

Wen Guzhi laughed, steadying himself against the edge of the table as he chuckled. “This is the first time we’ve seen a young lady Third Young Master couldn’t hold onto.”

“Not just couldn’t hold onto — more like he’s the one who’s been caught instead,” Liu Chenghe sighed with feeling. “Third Young Master, don’t bother looking outside anymore. She’s long gone.”

Li Jingyun withdrew his gaze and sat back down in the seat of honor, looking at the group before him with an amiable expression.

A chill ran down their spines, and Wen Guzhi and the others instantly reined in their laughter. Only Su Miao kept giggling, the crisp sound echoing pleasantly through the main hall.

“Cousin.” Li Jingyun addressed her with rare warmth.

Her laughter caught in her throat. Su Miao’s eyebrows twitched slightly, and she slowly closed her mouth, bowing formally toward him with mock seriousness. “Cousin, I’ve been quite busy lately. I might not be able to take on any errands.”

“Is that so? That really is a shame.” Li Jingyun lifted his teacup, shaking his head with regret. “And here I was going to have you accompany Shen Zhiluo to stay at Yongqing Temple for a few days.”

“Wait.” Su Miao said hastily. “I have time, I have time. I can do that.”

“But,” she added, puzzled, “why does Zhiluo need to go to Yongqing Temple, out of nowhere?”

“You’d have to ask the Crown Prince about that.” He pressed his lips together. “He used to favor and trust Lord Shen so much, and now suddenly he wants him moved out of the palace.”

Her expression turned serious, and Su Miao got up and walked over to him, frowning slightly. “You definitely know why.”

Li Jingyun let out a snort of laughter, idly skimming the foam off the top of his tea with the cup’s lid.

“Cou~sin~” Su Miao rubbed her hands together, coaxing him. “I was wrong, I won’t laugh at you anymore. Just give me a hint — I’ll be sure to sing your praises in front of little sister-in-law, praise you to the heavens, guaranteed to make little sister-in-law devoted to you forever after.”

“She’s already devoted to me now,” he corrected, displeased.

“Fine, fine, fine, with a cousin as outstanding and peerless as you, who would dare not be devoted to you?” Su Miao closed her eyes and flattered him thoroughly, then said, “Now tell me quickly, what’s going on?”

Setting down his teacup, Li Jingyun turned serious, his voice lowering. “There’s been word in the court lately that several former Great Wei officials have secretly been forming factions. The Crown Prince has been investigating strictly, but there’s been no evidence at all. I’m not sure how your Lord Shen managed to offend him, but the Crown Prince has him moved out to Yongqing Temple to pray for blessings.”

Officially it was for praying for blessings — in reality, it was a relocation, a sign the Crown Prince no longer wanted to keep him within the Eastern Palace.

Su Miao frowned repeatedly. “His Highness’s suspicions really do run deep. Great Wei has been extinct for so many years now — why is he still worrying about this? Not to mention, there’s not a single scion of the Great Wei imperial family left. Even if the former officials do form factions, what could they possibly accomplish?”

“It’s not that the Crown Prince is being overly suspicious without reason.” Xu Changyi said. “There have been repeated incidents involving the Eastern Palace’s people recently, and those same prominent former Wei officials have had frequent contact with each other. Even though it’s all ordinary social exchange, it’s only natural the Crown Prince would start to have suspicions.”

Wen Guzhi mused for a moment, then laughed lightly. “What a coincidence, really. First Xue Ji died an unnatural death, then Situ Feng was exiled — both of them had been instrumental in the fall of Wei. Both meeting misfortune at once — there must be some meaning to it.”

“Could it really be remnants of the old dynasty stirring up trouble?”

“Wanting to know whether it’s remnants of the old dynasty causing trouble — isn’t that simple enough?” Wen Guzhi said. “There’s also Kang Zhenzhong at court, who also contributed to Wei’s fall. If the Crown Prince truly suspects something, just have someone watch him closely — if anyone makes a move, wouldn’t that lead them right to the source?”

Li Jingyun listened in silence, his eyelids half-lowered.

“Cousin,” Su Miao couldn’t help but ask him, “what do you think?”

Coming back to himself, he scoffed. “What’s there to think? Whatever trouble they stir up has nothing to do with my general’s estate. All the better — a bit of peace and quiet for us.”

That much was true. Before, when the Princess Imperial and the Crown Prince had been fighting over power, both sides had dragged Li Jingyun into the mire time and again to compete for the general’s estate’s influence. Back then, the general’s estate had truly been in a precarious position, one wrong step away from disaster.

Now, though, the Princess Imperial had no time to spare for the general’s estate, and the Crown Prince no longer pressed Li Jingyun to marry. They could well afford to sit back and watch from the sidelines.

Su Miao let out a breath of relief, though she glanced outside with a hint of worry.

Summer had arrived in the capital. Every household and estate had begun setting up grape trellises for their masters to enjoy the shade. Huayue stood in the courtyard overseeing the work.

Shuangjiang stood beside her, reporting quietly, “Situ Feng has passed three post stations, and now he’s down to just one arm. The escort sent word saying maybe we should stop for now — if he dies on the road, they won’t be able to explain it.”

Huayue laughed lightly. “That’s fine. I never intended for him to die on the road anyway. Just let him go live out his days in Huizhou — once he’s settled in, I’ll go pay him a visit.”

Situ Feng was already nearly driven mad at this point; continuing to torment him further wouldn’t accomplish much. Once he calmed down and regained his senses, that would be the time to take his life — a way to console the spirits of her sister-in-law and the unborn child in her womb.

When she was young, her tutor had once taught her that repaying grievance with virtue could bring peace to the realm. Huayue thought that was utter nonsense — when the grievance was great enough, no amount of virtue could soothe the resentment in one’s heart. Why should one tread on one’s own wounds to try to reform someone who had done wrong? Grudge for grudge, vengeance for vengeance — that was how it should be.

What she hated most was hearing people say “how are you any different from the murderer, doing this?” The difference was enormous — one acted out of malicious cruelty and inhumanity, the other was simply repaying like for like out of vengeance. Anyone who conflated the two to persuade someone to put down the butcher’s knife wasn’t a bodhisattva — they were an accomplice.

“This servant found out some other things too,” Shuangjiang said. “This matter of Luo Zhong being accused seems to be connected to Third Young Master.”

Huayue came back to herself, puzzled. “Of course it’s connected to him. If it weren’t for him, how would I have known about Long Lin bribing Luo Zhong?”

“No.” Shuangjiang shook her head. “What I mean is, Third Young Master was the one who discovered this whole matter from the very beginning — that’s why he had the evidence gathered in advance.”

Her expression shifted slightly. Huayue glanced around, then pulled her back toward a corner of the courtyard and asked quietly, “What happened, exactly?”

“On the ninth day of the fourth month, Long Lin met privately with Luo Zhong at Qifeng Tower and was overheard. His guards chased after the eavesdropper but only caught a glimpse of his back — they said it looked like the Li family’s Third Young Master. But when they asked the manager at Qifeng Tower that day, he said the Third Young Master hadn’t been there at all,” Shuangjiang said. “Long Lin suspected the Third Young Master too, but with no evidence, the matter was simply dropped.”

The ninth day of the fourth month? Huayue raised an eyebrow, suddenly recalling the maid beside Han Shuang, Biezhi.

Biezhi had once tried to pry information out of her, asking exactly where Li Jingyun had been on the ninth day of the fourth month. She’d been wary and had said he’d stayed at the estate that day, throwing her off the trail.

Looking back on it now, that maid wasn’t such a simple servant after all — she’d actually been taking orders from Long Lin. Fortunate that Huayue hadn’t let anything slip.

On the ninth day of the fourth month, she herself had been taken to Qifeng Tower, and Li Jingyun had been there too — which meant the manager at Qifeng Tower had lied on his behalf. The conversation between Long Lin and Luo Zhong had been overheard by him, and that was how he’d managed to walk away from this entire ordeal unscathed.

Huayue suddenly found herself very curious — did that Qifeng Tower, besides holding evidence against Luo Zhong, also hide other things, ready to be used whenever needed?

“Junior Concubine.” The steward arrived in the courtyard, glanced at the nearly finished grape trellis, nodded with satisfaction, then came over holding the hem of his robe. “The Master sends word that he’d like you to come see him.”

“Alright.” Huayue agreed, leaving Shuangjiang to continue overseeing the trellis, and turned to follow the steward.

Ever since she’d been taken as Li Jingyun’s concubine, the General had rarely summoned her. The last time he’d called for her had been to ask about the young master’s situation in prison, and he’d seemed rather displeased with her at the time.

Huayue could understand why. To begin with, she’d been placed in the East Courtyard specifically to keep watch over the young master, to smooth the way for his marriage to the Han family’s daughter. Who would have thought that this shameless little wretch would instead become the greatest obstacle to the alliance between the two families? That she hadn’t been beaten to death for it was only because of the credit she’d earned in the past.

Stepping into the study, Huayue dutifully knelt and bowed. “Greetings, Master.”

Li Shoutian sat behind his desk, only grunting in acknowledgment, then said, “I’ve arranged the position of Palace Gate Commander for Jingyun. Over the next few days, talk to him about it — encourage him to come out and about with me more.”

Huayue was momentarily startled and somewhat surprised. Palace Gate Commander meant going into the palace, difficult to return from for three to five years. Though the General was strict on the surface, deep down he did seem to care for Li Jingyun — why would he suddenly want him to take on such a position?

Noticing her confusion, Li Shoutian gave a light snort. “The imperial examinations for Great Liang are coming up soon. Once the martial examination passes, the court will be filled with talent — by then, forget about the Commander position, even a guard post might not have a spot for him. Better to get him into the palace early than let him waste away his whole life accomplishing nothing.”

“…” The phrase “wasting away accomplishing nothing” hardly seemed fitting for Li Jingyun.

Had it been before, Huayue would have agreed without a second thought — after all, a servant’s duty was to obey the master’s word above all else, and she had always kept strictly to her place. But now, she felt the General was underestimating Li Jingyun.

That man, out on the training grounds, was like silver spears amid flying sand, like a blazing fire under the scorching sun. If he wanted to enter officialdom, he would never settle for something as minor as a mere Commander post.

Sighing softly, Huayue chose her words carefully and said quietly, “Has the General considered letting the young master try for the martial examination instead?”

“Him, take the martial examination?” Li Shoutian dismissed the idea outright, shaking his head. “That flimsy little skill of his — he won’t even properly hold a horse stance normally. He’d go and just embarrass himself. Better to just give him an official post directly — at least that way I can say I’ve done right by the Li family’s ancestors.”

His gaze swept downward, and he continued in a stern tone, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to be separated from him, do you? But he’s a man — he has to make something of himself and build his own accomplishments. While he hasn’t yet taken up his post, you’d best hurry and conceive a child, so the Li family doesn’t end up without an heir.”

A man who had spent his whole life on the battlefield was never one to listen to advice, and Huayue had no intention of saying anything more. She obediently kowtowed and agreed.

It was only after leaving the study that she still felt a pang of injustice on Li Jingyun’s behalf. In Li Shoutian’s eyes, he might just be a spoiled young master who spent his days running around outside, even landing himself in prison and causing trouble — but she knew that the Third Young Master had his own ambitions, his own accomplishments waiting to be made.

He was inferior to no young man in the entire capital.

Pushing open the gate to the East Courtyard, she stepped in and saw Li Jingyun feeding the white deer.

Compared to when it had been caught up in the mountains, the deer was now much cleaner, its fur glossier, nibbling sesame candy from his hand, its bright watery eyes constantly glancing in her direction.

Li Jingyun followed its gaze and looked over at her, raising an eyebrow with a teasing look. “The bride’s back.”

Composing herself, Huayue walked over, annoyed. “What bride?”

He smirked. “You and I bowed before it together. In its eyes, you’re the bride.”

The white deer, as if it understood, nodded its head.

Huayue was at a loss for words and shook her head helplessly. She led the deer back to the pen in the rear courtyard, then fetched water for Li Jingyun to wash his hands.

As he washed, Li Jingyun glanced up at her. “Who’s been bullying you?”

Lowering her eyes guiltily, Huayue said quietly, “No one’s bullying me. This concubine is doing just fine.”

He let out a sound through his nose, dried his hands, and pulled her inside, placing a bronze mirror in front of her. “Take a look at yourself. Does this face look like ‘doing just fine’ to you?”

The person in the mirror had a pale, jade-like face, both brows knitted with sorrow, looking every bit the picture of misery.

Huayue snapped the mirror shut, hesitated for a moment, then looked up and asked him, “Has Young Master ever thought about entering officialdom?”

A flash of surprise crossed his eyes. Li Jingyun leaned against the dressing table, thinking for a moment. “My father found me a position?”

“…” How could he guess that so quickly? Huayue couldn’t help but pick up the mirror again to check her face. Could it be, as the Fifth Prince had said, that all her thoughts really did show plainly on her face?

She looked for a long while but couldn’t find any answer, and lowered her head, dejected. “The General has arranged the position of Palace Gate Commander for you, overseeing the palace guards.”

It was a light duty, no risk to life, and the salary wasn’t bad either. Li Jingyun studied her carefully, then couldn’t help but reach out with a finger to lift her chin, brushing his thumb over her lips as he asked, “Isn’t that a good position?”

Huayue felt genuinely exasperated by this — what was good about it? A body wrapped in fine brocade, wasting his life away, like taking the sharpest blade from the training ground and wrapping it in silk to be locked away on a high shelf.

But her indignation lasted only a moment. Looking at the young master’s relaxed expression, she pouted and said, “It is quite good. Very respectable.”

The smile in his eyes deepened, and his thumb stroked back and forth over the corner of her mouth. “Such a respectable position, and you’re still not happy? Hm?”

“I’m happy. This concubine will go buy a couple strings of firecrackers to hang at the gate to celebrate for Young Master.” She put on a fake smile, her white teeth gleaming.

Li Jingyun couldn’t hold back and leaned down to peck her lips.

“Young Master!” The person before him grew immediately annoyed, her willow brows shooting up. “In broad daylight, what kind of behavior is this?”

Kissing his own concubine, and yet he had to be told he had no decorum — Li Jingyun felt quite wistful about it. More than thinking about entering officialdom, what he really should be focused on was finding a way to get this little puppy to willingly grow close to him — that was the real priority.

Thinking it over, he sat down on the couch nearby and beckoned her with a crook of his finger. “Come here.”

Huayue eyed him warily and shuffled over step by hesitant step. “What does Young Master require?”

“Weren’t you curious whether I’ve ever thought about entering officialdom?” He turned his head to the side, pointing at his own cheek. “Kiss me here, and I’ll tell you.”

Huayue couldn’t believe her ears and let out a “Huh?” Folding her hands together, she bowed elegantly. “Young Master, whether you enter officialdom or not is entirely your own affair. Why would this concubine need to… Young Master is overthinking this.”

Li Jingyun didn’t argue with her, simply waiting with a smile in his eyes, the finger tapping lightly against his cheek somehow radiating a hint of mischief.

Huayue turned her head away in disdain.

However—

After the room fell silent for a moment, someone, flushed with embarrassment all the way to her ears, leaned over quickly and pecked him on the cheek, then took three big steps back, forcing the words out through gritted teeth: “Now would Young Master please explain.”

Li Jingyun burst out laughing at once, his indigo-blue sleeves trembling along with his laughter. Perhaps too delighted, he braced himself against the small table nearby, fetched brush, ink, and paper, and in just a few quick strokes sketched out her flustered, embarrassed expression from a moment ago.

This was simply unbearable. Huayue rushed forward to tear it up, but he held it up high, and even leaping for it, she couldn’t reach it.

“Young Master!” she shouted angrily.

Li Jingyun reined in the curve of his lips, though the smile still escaped through his eyes. He caught her hand, crumpled the sketch carelessly, and tossed it out the window, then soothed her gently. “Thrown away, thrown away, don’t be upset.”

Huayue considered herself a maid of excellent bearing, able to keep her emotions in check, never showing displeasure to her masters.

But, saddled with a master like Li Jingyun, not even the gods could keep their composure. She grabbed his sleeve angrily, glaring at him.

“Hey, alright, alright, weren’t you asking if I’ve thought about entering officialdom? I’ll answer you.” He said, not entirely serious. “No.”

Huayue got up and turned to leave.

“But—” He caught her fingers with his other hand, laughing, “I’m not finished yet. But, since it’s already been arranged, I suppose I should do something about it.”

She shook his hand off without much grace and said, “Young Master doesn’t need to do anything. With the General paving the way, you just need to report for duty when the time comes.”

Letting her shake him off without resistance, he only rubbed his chin with his other hand. “Palace Gate Commander — once you take up that post, you can’t leave the palace freely anymore, can you?”

“That’s right,” she said. “Before you go, you should also say goodbye to Madam properly.”

Thinking of Madam, Huayue’s heart softened again. If the young master went into the palace, wouldn’t Madam be terribly sad? Even though she rarely saw him around the estate as it was, at least she could still send him soup and refreshments, and hear a few polite words from him on holidays. If he truly left, it would mean going a long time without hearing from him at all.

Hesitating for a moment, she turned and took hold of his hand as well. “Why don’t you take some time — this concubine will accompany you to the main courtyard?”

Li Jingyun frowned, displeased. “We agreed on three rules from the start — you promised not to force me to go to the main courtyard.”

“This concubine did promise, so isn’t this me discussing it with you?” She lowered herself, her brows softening as she pleaded with him gently. “Just go say a few words to Madam.”

The person before her turned his face away in resistance, his hand slipping from hers as well.

Huayue smiled apologetically, circling around in front of him to bow with clasped hands. “It won’t take much time at all.”

“No.” He turned his face to the other side, saying in a muffled voice. “Going to the main courtyard puts me in a bad mood. Why would I make myself unhappy for no good reason?”

She reached out coquettishly to take his hand again; he dodged. She reached for it again, and her body followed, settling onto the couch beside him, gently shaking his fingers. “Young Master.”

Her voice was soft, carrying a hint of a coquettish lilt at the end, and he nearly lost his composure listening to it.

Glancing at her sideways, Li Jingyun still put on an air and let out a cold huff.

Huayue smiled inwardly, praising herself for her cleverness, then leaned in and kissed his cheek several times in quick succession, like a little chick pecking at rice.

The corner of his mouth couldn’t help but curl upward. He coughed lightly, his expression showing a hint of hesitation.

Among the thirty-six stratagems, the beauty trap was surely the best one — Huayue silently congratulated herself on her cleverness, then cupped his face and pecked at it repeatedly, chick-pecking-rice style.

His throat moved. Li Jingyun’s eyes deepened as he watched her, and suddenly he flipped the tables, cupping the back of her head and covering her lips with his own.

The person in his arms was quite sensible and didn’t resist — even parting her lips of her own accord.

The color in his ink-dark eyes deepened. He let out a low groan, gripping her soft waist tightly, unable to hold back a hint of predatory intensity leaking through.

The sweet prey sensed it and stiffened slightly.

He raised an eyebrow and, without a trace, reined the intensity back in, his lips and teeth gentle and coaxing as they moved against hers.

The prey gradually relaxed its guard, softening back into its docile, pliant self.

“Young Master.” The moment they parted, Huayue asked softly, “Will you go?”

Who could resist that? Li Jingyun gritted his teeth and grunted his agreement, his sharp teeth grazing the side of her neck — wanting to bite down but reluctant to hurt her, he groaned and sucked gently instead.

Huayue shivered, reaching up to push him away, covering her neck as she stepped back repeatedly, flustered. “This servant will go get things ready.”

Every time she went to the main courtyard, she had to bring jewelry from Baolai Pavilion — he’d bought her several more boxes recently, all piled up in the side room of the East Courtyard.

Huayue went to find them; he didn’t seem to mind and, thinking of something, got up to look as well.

She saw him following and wasn’t surprised, handing him a few of the boxes stacked on top while she rummaged through the ones below.

Among the tall stack of wooden boxes, the topmost one had previously held a pair of unfinished boots.

Li Jingyun took it and casually opened it for a glance.

The shoe upper, originally only half-embroidered, was now fully finished, the thread ends trimmed neatly and beautifully, needing only to be sewn to the sole.

Without any visible reaction, he closed the lid and turned his head away, smiling silently to himself.

The person before him was still chattering away: “Actually, whatever gift you give her, as long as it’s from you, Madam will be happy. But if you could spend a bit more time talking with her, like you did last time, Madam would be happy for a long while afterward.”

“Originally, Madam wasn’t pleased about you and me being together, but just because of those few words you said so nicely, she never blamed you for anything since. Think about it — isn’t that quite a good deal?”

She spoke as she picked up a hair comb and turned back to look at him. “Young Master?”

Li Jingyun came back to himself and answered vaguely, “I know.”

He paused, then added meaningfully, “Actually, there’s another way to make her even happier, but you wouldn’t be willing to do it.”

Huayue was startled, then frowned disapprovingly. “As long as it would make Madam happy, why wouldn’t this concubine be willing? Young Master, tell me.”

Looking troubled, Li Jingyun shook his head. “Never mind. It’s really not appropriate.”

“What’s inappropriate about it?” She grew anxious, standing up. “Just tell me!”