Ji Yingying yawned, her eyelids nearly sticking together.
Ying’er, kneeling beside her, said sympathetically: “Miss has been busy all day. Why don’t… you go rest?”
“Give me the sobering soup,” Ji Yingying wasn’t about to let her efforts go to waste. She was determined, “After one sip of this special sobering soup, I definitely won’t want to sleep!”
“But…”
With all that vinegar, salt, and enough pepper powder to make Matron Tian clutch her chest in distress, what would it taste like? Before Ying’er could advise further, Ji Yingying had already lifted the food box lid, taken out the porcelain bowl from its warmer, and sipped a small spoonful of the sobering soup.
Her eyes suddenly widened, and she pointed at her mouth while making faces at Ying’er. Ying’er quickly offered her a teacup, and Ji Yingying spat it all out. After rinsing her mouth with tea, she let out a breath, suddenly energized: “See? I told you it would work! Go, hurry Ji Ying up, why is it taking so long to change clothes?”
Ying’er smiled wryly: “Young Master Yang’s clothes are soaked through with wine, and he’s completely drunk. Little Ying alone attending to his bath and change of clothes, he probably can’t manage it all.”
The Ji household had few male servants, only sending Ji Yaoting’s attendant to serve Yang Jingyuan.
What if he sobered up and wouldn’t drink the sobering soup after his bath? Ji Yingying snorted: “I should have disguised myself as my brother’s servant to ‘attend’ to him!”
“Miss!” Ying’er was startled by her boldness, “Although you’ve exchanged birth certificates and are engaged, the betrothal gifts haven’t been presented yet. If Young Master Yang recognizes you, he’ll think you’re improper…”
“Ha, perfect! Break off the engagement then. I don’t mind. I’ve already decided to return his family’s money anyway.” Ji Yingying had grown impatient from waiting, and Ying’er’s words only made her more reckless. Though she said this, she didn’t dare go attend to Yang Jingyuan’s bath and change of clothes. She stood up and left the hall with Ying’er.
After standing in the corridor for a while, Ji Ying emerged from the room carrying a bundle of soaked clothes.
Ji Yingying called Ji Ying over and asked in a low voice: “How is Young Master Yang?”
Ji Ying pushed the clothes forward for her to see: “All wine. Even the undergarments are wet. I don’t know if Young Master Yang was drinking the wine or pouring it on himself. Look, you could wring the wine out of these.”
“I’m asking how he is now!” Ji Yingying said urgently.
“I had to call my father to help carry him into the bathtub to wash. We changed him into the young master’s clothes, but Young Master Yang hasn’t woken up at all.”
Satisfied, Ji Yingying led Ying’er toward Ji Yaoting’s room.
Entering the room, mistress and servant tiptoed to the inner chamber door separated by the curio cabinet, lifting a corner of the door curtain to peek.
An oil lamp burned on the low table by the couch, casting dim, hazy light. Yang Jingyuan lay on the couch wearing Ji Yaoting’s white inner robes.
Gentle, rhythmic snores drifted out. The two exchanged glances, knowing he was sleeping soundly.
Ji Yingying lowered the curtain and whispered instructions to Ying’er: “Take away all the tea sets in the room. Tell Ji Ying to play dead and not come serve tonight. I’ll feed him the sobering soup myself, so he won’t take it out on you.”
Ying’er looked at her worriedly.
Ji Yingying lifted her chin, gesturing that there was no need to worry about her.
Mistress and servant split up. Ji Yingying carried the food box boldly into the room. She opened it, took the porcelain bowl from the warmer, and poured a bowl of soup, placing it on the low table.
She opened her mouth to wake Yang Jingyuan, then stopped.
In the dim lamplight, the yellowish glow carved his facial features into sharp relief. His eyebrows were truly handsome. Like bold strokes of ink, they showed his heroic spirit even in sleep. She had never looked at Yang Jingyuan so carefully before. His image in her heart was like a light ink painting, faint and indistinct.
Which memory was the deepest? Was it when he was joking around with a group of young nobles, ridiculously wearing a chrysanthemum as big as a bowl in his hair? Was it the moment he broke off a tree branch and handed it to her, nearly frightening her to death? Or was it when he sat on his horse looking at her expressionlessly, then let go, letting the black porridge pot crash and shatter on the ground?
None of the images in her mind matched how he looked now. He slept peacefully as if those hurtful words couldn’t possibly have come from these sharply defined lips.
Without realizing it, Ji Yingying’s finger touched his lips, as if this could prevent him from saying such things again.
Just then, Yang Jingyuan suddenly opened his mouth and bit her finger.
Ji Yingying was startled and tried to pull back. As she pulled, he held firm. His bite wasn’t hard, but he wouldn’t let her retrieve her finger. He hadn’t even opened his eyes, appearing to be sleeping comfortably.
“You turtle!” Ji Yingying grew anxious and reached to pinch his jaw.
Yang Jingyuan, eyes still closed, grabbed her wrist and couldn’t resist licking her finger.
Ji Yingying’s face instantly flushed red: “Bastard! You’re pretending to sleep! Let go!”
Yang Jingyuan slowly opened his eyes and deliberately sucked on her finger again in challenge. Those eyebrows she had just been admiring twitched, his eyes full of provocation and amusement.
Even a fool would know she’d been teased. The sensation on her fingertip made Ji Yingying burn with shame and anger. Meeting Yang Jingyuan’s gaze, she ignored the pain and pulled hard to free her finger.
Yang Jingyuan opened his mouth, letting her pull her finger free, but kept hold of her wrist and pulled her toward him, his arm encircling her waist. Ji Yingying fell forward onto his chest.
“What are you doing?! Have you no shame? Let me go!” Her face burning where it touched his body, Ji Yingying was extremely uncomfortable and twisted around, growling softly.
“Who’s shameless? Sneaking into my room at night and touching my face?” Yang Jingyuan rolled his eyes. If he hadn’t pretended to be drunk today, who knows what she would have done to him?
Ji Yingying was furious. Hadn’t he been sleeping like a dead pig? How was he so clear-headed now, as if he hadn’t drunk at all? With his arm around her waist, she couldn’t get up, so she said through gritted teeth: “I came to bring you sobering soup. Should I have just poured it down your throat without waking you?”
Yang Jingyuan released her, tucking his arm behind his head lazily: “Oh, so I misunderstood.”
His tone dragged long at the end as if seeing through her trick. Ji Yingying stood up straight, her delicate brows standing on end: “I guarantee you’ll be wide awake after drinking this.”
“Oh.”
You asked for it! Ji Yingying picked up the bowl and handed it to him: “Drink up!”
A sharp sour smell assaulted his nostrils. Yang Jingyuan smiled bitterly. Had she poured an entire bottle of vinegar into this soup? He blinked: “I’ll be fine after some sleep, I don’t want to drink it. Take it away.”
Take it away? So I wasted all this effort? Ji Yingying forced a smile and coaxed him: “Drinking too much hurts your body. Drink this bowl of soup, and I guarantee you won’t have a headache tomorrow.”
Yang Jingyuan struggled to sit up, crying “Ouch!” and pressing his forehead: “I’m dizzy. How about… you feed it to me?”
So annoying! Ji Yingying put down the bowl and stuffed a pillow behind his neck: “Fine, I’ll feed you!”
She scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his mouth. Yang Jingyuan slurped it down.