Moonlight filtering through the window paper cast a faint glow in the room. Yang Jingyuan’s eyes sparkled like stars. He finally showed his playboy side again, his face wearing an expression that said “I don’t care if you can’t think of a solution, I’m going to sleep.”
Of course, if Xianger discovered him, they could make her keep quiet. But she would be the one disgraced! Lying on the same bed with him before marriage—what would people think? Ji Yingying was both anxious and angry, pinching his arm hard.
In her anxiety, her breathing became uneven, and she began to cough.
Yang Jingyuan stopped teasing her and gently patted her back to help her catch her breath.
Xianger, half-asleep, heard the coughing and jerked awake: “Young Miss, why are you coughing? Let me get you some water!”
“No!” Getting water meant lighting the lamp and lifting the bed curtains. Ji Yingying broke into a nervous sweat, shouting with unexpected force.
“Young Miss, can’t you sleep? I brought the basket—shall I keep you company while winding thread? We can sleep after you’re tired. I’m not sleepy at all.” Xianger thought Ji Yingying was being considerate, not wanting her to stay up late. Feeling grateful, she became even more attentive.
Ji Yingying wanted to cry. Suppressing the urge to pound the bed, she took a deep breath: “Don’t get up, just sleep.”
“Oh.” Xianger remained restless, lying back down and saying softly, “Young Miss if you can’t sleep, shall I keep you company with conversation?”
This girl was truly exasperating! In her anxiety, Ji Yingying couldn’t think of a solution. She turned her head to see Yang Jingyuan lying on his side, propping up his chin, watching her with suppressed laughter. Glaring at him in anger, she mouthed silently: “Think of something!”
When she was angry and anxious, her eyebrows, eyes, and mouth all moved, her expressions incredibly animated. Her loose hair spread long across her shoulders, contrasting with her white undergarments like fine black silk. She lay on her side glaring at him, her waist gracefully curved. The air within the bed curtains was filled with her usual peach blossom powder fragrance. Yang Jingyuan had to make a great effort to tear his gaze away from her waist. Worried about Ji Yingying catching a cold, three braziers had been placed in the room. By now, Yang Jingyuan could feel sweat forming at his temples. He took off his fox fur coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“Young Miss, are you up?” Xianger turned over, vaguely seeing movement behind the curtains.
“No!” Ji Yingying panicked and threw herself at Yang Jingyuan, pushing him down on the bed. Through the fluffy fox fur, Yang Jingyuan’s chest shook as he struggled to contain his laughter. Suddenly, an idea flashed in her mind: “Xianger, I haven’t had dinner, I’m hungry.”
Xianger sprang up, putting on her outer clothes while speaking: “If Young Miss has an appetite, you must be getting better! Nanny Tian specially prepared crucian carp porridge. Young Master ordered Nanny Tian to make it. He said he heard from the Young Master that drinking fresh crucian carp porridge makes one sweat and recover quickly! It’s hard to find fish in winter, but when Young Master Zhu heard about it, he asked his friends to catch two from the river. The porridge is ready and being kept warm on the stove in the tea room, in case you woke up hungry. I’ll go get it now.”
The oil lamp was lit, adding a hazy glow to the room. Xianger lit another lamp and carried it out, closing the door behind her.
Hearing the creaking sound of the door closing, Ji Yingying finally breathed a sigh of relief: “Quick, leave!”
Before she could prop herself up, her waist was gripped tightly as Yang Jingyuan embraced her through the fur coat.
“Are you trying to get us killed? The tea room is right next door!” The room was still lit, and Xianger would lift the curtains to serve her porridge when she returned. Ji Yingying pushed against him, nearly begging, “It’ll be too late if you don’t leave now. Yang Jingyuan, how can you be so shameless?”
Yang Jingyuan whispered: “Drinking porridge before bed can cause indigestion.”
Ji Yingying just wanted him to leave quickly and nodded repeatedly: “I know, now hurry and go!”
“Master hasn’t given me my courtesy name yet. Won’t you call me Third Brother?” Yang Jingyuan tightened his arms, reluctant to let go.
He gazed at her stubbornly, as if nothing—not even the sky falling—was more important than hearing her call him that. Ji Yingying opened her mouth but suddenly couldn’t speak, her face burning again.
“Xianger’s coming back.” Yang Jingyuan heard Xianger’s footsteps approaching and couldn’t help but urge her.
“Third… Third… Third…”
The more he pressed, the harder it became for Ji Yingying to say it. She stammered for a long time without finishing. Her shy and frustrated appearance was completely different from her usual spirited self. Yang Jingyuan burst out laughing, then quickly laid Ji Yingying back on the bed and planted a quick kiss on her cheek: “Cover yourself well and sleep. Remember, don’t drink porridge at night.”
He grabbed his fur coat and leaped out the window.
Just as he pulled the window closed, Xianger entered with the tray.
The window latch was on the inside, and the wind blew it slightly open again.
Xianger set down the tray and, feeling the draft, went to the window and said in surprise: “I’m sure I latched it, how did it come open again?”
Ji Yingying sat up wrapped in her blanket: “You must have forgotten.”
“Perhaps.” Xianger didn’t think much of it and secured the latch. She draped a cloth over Ji Yingying’s shoulders, then grew worried again, “Young Miss, why is your face so red? You’re not feverish again, are you?”
Ji Yingying touched her face, feeling it hot beneath her hand. She casually said: “There are too many braziers in the room, and with the windows closed, it must be stuffy. Move one out.”
Perhaps more alert after moving around, Xianger became particularly talkative: “We’re fortunate to have Young Master Zhu. He has many friends, and someone managed to catch crucian carp from the river. Nanny Tian’s cooking is excellent—the porridge smells wonderful.”
Indigestion from just one bowl of porridge? Remembering Yang Jingyuan’s words, Ji Yingying suddenly understood. She buried her face in the blanket and giggled.
Xianger ladled out a bowl of porridge and brought it over, asking curiously: “What amusing thing did Young Miss think of? You’re laughing so happily?”
Not knowing if Yang Jingyuan had left yet, Ji Yingying took the bowl and ate a spoonful, deliberately praising loudly: “It smells wonderful! So delicious! I want two bowls!”
It was just two crucian carp from Second Young Master Zhu, not a big deal. Told not to eat, yet wanting two bowls. Yang Jingyuan, sitting beneath the window holding his fox fur coat, couldn’t help but purse his lips at Ji Yingying’s words. He crouched and darted to the wall, easily climbing over it.
Xiangyou, hugging an empty wineskin and shivering from the cold, saw Yang Jingyuan and trembled as he steadied himself against the wall: “Young… Young Master. If you’d come any… any later, I would have frozen… frozen solid.”
“Useless! I tell you to practice martial arts with me daily to strengthen your body, but you prefer to slack off.” Yang Jingyuan grabbed him, wrapped the fox fur coat around him, and helped him onto the horse, “Come on, let’s find lodging.”
“This late at night, where can we stay?” Touched that Yang Jingyuan had given him the fur coat to wear, Xiangyou sniffled with emotion.
“I remember the retired old steward lives somewhere around here. I should be able to find his house.” Yang Jingyuan said, half-joking.
At his words, Xiangyou remembered: “Yes, yes, the old steward who bought me into the household. He lives just ahead, with an old Chinese banyan tree outside his back door.”
Yang Jingyuan smiled and urged his horse forward.