Zhu Yan could not wait to go to the temple to verify, but Shen Du automatically ignored her, only grasping her hand and lightly tapping her nose.
“You’re not allowed to go,” he said, his eyes filled with laughter.
Zhu Yan was stunned. She had never imagined Shen Du could have such a side to him. It was beyond her wildest dreams.
Before Zhu Yan could react, Shen Du pulled her out of the study and instructed Jing Lin to bring some food.
Shen Du picked up a piece of snow lotus root with his chopsticks for Zhu Yan, sprinkled with brown sugar. It looked very appetizing.
Zhu Yan felt a bit embarrassed, but Shen Du insisted. She had no choice but to eat from his chopsticks. The sweet and crisp taste filled her mouth. The August lotus root, having absorbed the essence of an entire summer, was naturally delicious.
Zhu Yan teased, “In the past when solving cases, you wished I wouldn’t eat or drink for days to help you solve them. Now you’re not in a hurry?”
Shen Du picked up a piece of yuan bao shrimp for her, carefully peeling it. Zhu Yan wanted to do it herself, but Shen Du’s dark eyes fixed her in place, so she could only wait.
Shen Du replied irritably, “In the past, I only saw you as my subordinate. I thought by working you day and night, you, as a girl, wouldn’t be able to bear it and would leave on your own. How can I treat you the same way now?”
Zhu Yan felt sweet in her heart and found everything delicious: “Actually, it doesn’t matter. I’m already used to it.”
“Then change that habit,” Shen Du glared, stern and imposing. But Zhu Yan wasn’t afraid anymore. Shen Du softened his expression, “From now on, you’re my wife. I certainly hope for you to be healthy and have plenty of leisure time. You’re not allowed to work yourself to exhaustion like that anymore.”
Zhu Yan put a peeled yuanbao shrimp into Shen Du’s mouth, smiling sweetly, “You eat too.”
They continued feeding each other until they were both nearly full. Seeing that Zhu Yan really couldn’t eat anymore, Shen Du finally stopped and called for the meal to be cleared away.
Zhu Yan again proposed going to the temple to check. Shen Du asked why she wanted to go, so Zhu Yan explained the autopsy process once more.
Earlier, Shen Du had been too preoccupied with jealousy to hear what Zhu Yan was saying. Now, after listening, his professional habits kicked in and he began to ponder:
“You said those substances were all resins, rosin, and other incense materials commonly used in temples. That’s why you want to go to the temple to verify.”
“Yes,” Zhu Yan had nothing to hide from Shen Du, “Some high-ranking monks, sensing their impending death, would fast in advance, only consuming sandalwood and other incense materials. This was to preserve their bodies after death, allowing them to achieve successful seated transformation.”
Shen Du, as the supervisor of Da Zhou officials and the royal family, naturally knew this.
“But I also found this in their stomach pouches,” Zhu Yan said.
She took out a cloth package, unwrapping it layer by layer to reveal the red residue of cinnabar inside. Having been soaked in gastric juices, it had a dark red color.
“Cinnabar?” Shen Du raised an eyebrow, finally understanding why Zhu Yan was eager to investigate. “Such items are extremely rare. Even ordinary Taoists can hardly obtain them. How could the Fire Moth Party have them?”
And they were consuming them like candy.
Then, thinking of something, his face turned fierce: “This Lai Luozhi is truly lawless, hoarding so much cinnabar for his subordinates to consume. This is evidence of their crimes.”
It seemed that the Lai Faction had already taken control of Da Zhou’s mining industry. Did the Empress know?
Zhu Yan gave him a knowing look, frowning slightly in frustration: “The simultaneous presence of Buddhist and Taoist items in their stomach pouches seems contradictory, but ultimately, they were just used for early preservation, preparing for death and rebirth. Why didn’t Lai Luozhi have this scent on him?”
This was a point Shen Du couldn’t figure out either, but he was certain about one thing: “It seems this Lai Luozhi’s ambitions are not small. He’s not content with being just a first-rank junior minister.”
“Then what does he want to be?” Zhu Yan looked at Shen Du. His dark eyes were deep, his body emanating coldness. A terrible thought occurred to her, “He couldn’t be…”
Shen Du nodded, his cold eyes looking out the window as a flash of lightning split the ink-black sky.
Zhu Yan huddled in Shen Du’s arms, her heart pounding, not daring to think further.
Stroking Zhu Yan’s hair, Shen Du’s eyes flashed with cold light. He held Zhu Yan close, his thoughts racing.
The window frames rattled in the wind, and soon the pitter-patter of rain began. Zhu Yan got up, saying, “I’ll close the windows.”
Shen Du pulled her back onto his lap with one hand. Zhu Yan pouted, “The autumn thunderstorm is always a bit uncomfortable. We should close the windows.”
Shen Du agreed that the thunderstorm was indeed uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t let her get up. Instead, he carried her in his arms towards the bed.
Zhu Yan was confused, “Hey, Shen Du, did you hear what I said?”
“I heard. I’ll close the windows.”
“What about me?”
“Sleep.”
Shen Du did as he said, putting Zhu Yan down, removing her shoes and socks, and positioning her legs properly. He reached out to undo the buttons on her collar, but Zhu Yan grabbed his hands tightly, her ears and cheeks flushing as she said in a trembling voice:
“Don’t. I’ll do it myself.”
She was indescribably adorable.
Pressing her palms twice, Shen Du dared not tease her further. He turned to close the doors and windows, then came back to sit on the edge of the bed and remove his outer robe. Seeing Zhu Yan wrap herself tightly in the brocade quilt, he couldn’t help but want to tease her again. He leaned over, pressing Zhu Yan beneath him, the corner of his mouth curling into a slight smile. His eyes reflected only the image of the young woman before him as he spoke softly:
“It seems my wife is very cold. Let your husband warm you up.”
Zhu Yan was so embarrassed she didn’t know what to do. She punched his chest with her small fists, then covered her face, peeking through her fingers as she mumbled:
“You’re only allowed to warm me up, nothing else.”
A muffled laugh came from deep within Shen Du’s chest. Looking at Zhu Yan’s shy expression, he reached out to extinguish the candles. In the darkness, Shen Du lay down beside Zhu Yan, taking her hand in his. He exhaled softly, with a hint of determination in his voice:
“Once everything is settled, we’ll sleep together every night.”
Only then did Zhu Yan realize she had been teased by Shen Du. She couldn’t help but feel annoyed: “Shen Du, you…”
“Shh, the plan has begun,” he placed his index finger on Zhu Yan’s lips.
Plan? What plan? I don’t know anything about it! Zhu Yan frantically asked in her heart.
The room was dim and silent, with only the sound of rain outside, the whisper of the wind, and the chirping of insects.
Zhu Yan cupped her face, suppressing the heat that Shen Du had stirred up earlier. She wondered what this mysterious plan could be when she heard Shen Du command in a low voice:
“Cry!”
Cry?
“Cry about what?” Zhu Yan asked in confusion, tilting her head to look at Shen Du, trying to find his gaze in the darkness.
Shen Du reached out to touch her face, his voice even softer: “Be good, just cry.”
Without asking anything more, Zhu Yan tried hard to squeeze out tears but failed. She poked Shen Du’s waist, making him flinch and catch her restless hand.
Zhu Yan said pitifully, “I can’t cry.”
Shen Du was both amused and exasperated. Did this woman know the consequences of poking a man’s waist? He was only twenty-three, lying next to the woman he loved, already relying on willpower to restrain himself.
“Ouch.”
Her hand was gripped with great force, making her draw in a sharp breath of pain. Tears spilled out.
Seeing her cry, Shen Du let go of her hand, only to have his chest pummeled again.
“You gripped so hard,” she said, even with a hint of a sob. Shen Du naturally felt distressed, but there were more pressing matters at hand. He could only say:
“Continue.”
Zhu Yan obeyed, sobbing softly, restrained yet sorrowful. Then her cries grew louder, indistinct yet amplifying the sadness on this rainy night.
Shen Du remained silent, staring into the darkness as if waiting for something.