Ji Yingying slept dreamlessly until dawn. As sunlight filtered through the window paper into the room, feeling the glare on her eyes, she raised her hand to block it: “Xiang’er, what time is it?”
“Early morning, around 7-9 AM,” Yang Jingyuan replied. Hearing her normal voice, he felt relieved yet irritated by her apparent carefree attitude.
Was she dreaming? Why was that Yang Jingyuan’s voice? Ji Yingying spread her fingers apart. Seeing Yang Jingyuan’s face clearly through the gaps, she froze in shock: “Am I dreaming?”
She scrambled up from the bed and reached out to touch his face.
Yang Jingyuan caught her hand and pulled. Ji Yingying fell into his embrace. He looked down at her: “Shall I fetch water and help you wash up?”
Ji Yingying blinked, rubbed her face against him forcefully, and pressed her hand against his chest. The thump-thump heartbeat—it was him! She pushed him away hard and looked around. A completely unfamiliar room. Furiously, she looked down at herself, still wearing the blue jacket and pink loose pants she had worn before falling asleep. Finding nothing amiss with her body, she grew bolder and pointed at Yang Jingyuan’s nose: “You actually climbed through my window again and kidnapped me here, have you no shame?!”
“Such vigorous spirit—seems you’re fine now.” Yang Jingyuan stood up and stretched, “I’ll have someone bring water for you to wash up… and find you some clothes.”
Staring at his retreating as he pushed open the door, Ji Yingying was stunned for a moment before calling out: “Hey! Where is this place?”
Yang Jingyuan pretended not to hear, slamming the door shut. The loud bang startled Ji Yingying. She grumbled dissatisfied: “How can he be like this? Just because of a small argument, he kidnaps someone in the middle of the night. What will Mother and Brother say when they find out?”
She angrily pounded the bed several times. Would she have to tell her mother and brother that Yang Jingyuan was now experienced at climbing walls and breaking in through windows? She covered her face with her hands.
A set of clothes was thrown over her head, and she heard Yang Jingyuan’s lazy voice: “Call me when you’re dressed and ready.”
She pulled the clothes off her head as the door slammed shut again.
On the washing stand sat a copper basin filled with hot water. A white cloth hung on the rack. Two glass bowls sat nearby, along with a bone toothbrush.
Ji Yingying put on the clothes and got up, picking up a brown bean from one of the bowls and sniffing it: “Washing beans in glass bowls? Is this the Yang residence? He dared to bring me to the Yang family home?!”
Ji Yingying felt as if struck by lightning. She wasn’t married yet—how could she stay at the Yang residence? That Yang Sanlong really was… She rolled up her sleeves, brushed her teeth, skipped the washing beans, and wiped her face and hands clean with the wrung cloth. She undid her hair bun and skillfully tied it into a simple style, baring her teeth at her reflection in the copper mirror: “Yang Jingyuan, you’re dead!”
She strode quickly to the door, but as soon as she pulled it open, Yang Jingyuan stepped in. Ji Yingying crashed into him unexpectedly, her nose throbbing with pain as tears welled up. Covering her nose, she started to berate him: “How dare you kidnap me to—”
Yang Jingyuan covered her mouth and quickly said: “First, I didn’t kidnap you. Second, this isn’t the Yang residence. Third, of course, this isn’t the Yang residence! But don’t worry, I’ll marry you properly with eight sedan chairs.”
He released her and looked her up and down. Seeing she was properly dressed with her hair neatly arranged, he took her hand and headed outside: “Don’t shout about anything you see—I’ll explain once we’re out.”
Ji Yingying’s words were blocked by his hand. She pouted and glared at him. If not him, then who? If not the Yang residence, what place would be so luxurious as to use copper basins and glass bowls?
The sky had cleared, and the winter sun shone brilliantly. Ji Yingying squinted under the eaves, then turned her head to see a man standing at the entrance of the main hall. He wore a black wide-sleeved robe embroidered with subtle patterns, his black hair tied back with a single band. With tanned skin and eyes as deep as stars. She gasped and gripped Yang Jingyuan’s hand tighter. Heavens, how could she be seeing Master Sheng?
Feeling the strength in her grip, Yang Jingyuan looked down at her with an ambiguous smile: “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong?! Could this be an inn? Just happening to stay in the same courtyard as Master Sheng? Would even the finest inn use copper basins and glass bowls? Ji Yingying forced a laugh: “Nothing, I’m just wondering why I’m at an inn?”
An inn? Yang Jingyuan glanced at Sheng Fengze standing at the main hall entrance, wanting to slap Ji Yingying awake: “Heh, how do you know this is an inn? Oh, because you see other people staying here?”
“Yes… hehe.” Ji Yingying nodded vaguely. Pulled along by Yang Jingyuan, she involuntarily followed him forward, then realized with alarm they were heading toward Master Sheng! She panicked and tried to break free: “Where are you taking me? You still haven’t told me what happened last night!”
Yang Jingyuan said sternly: “Last night we were taken in by the master of this place. Now we’re going to bid farewell to the host, then I’ll take you home.”
“What do you mean taken in?” Taken in by Master Sheng? Why couldn’t she remember anything? Ji Yingying wracked her brain but only remembered taking a bath, falling asleep, and Xiang’er helping dry her hair.
Before she could make sense of it all, Yang Jingyuan had brought her before Master Sheng. He glanced at Ji Yingying, seeing her eyes darting around, afraid to look at Sheng Fengze. Then at Sheng Fengze, whose gaze seemed glued to her. One pretending not to know, one pretending to be reluctant to part. He might as well play dumb too. Yang Jingyuan smiled brightly: “She woke up this morning lively as ever, jumping around like a fresh shrimp. If anything happens, I’ll come find the White Prince again.”
What does he mean by jumping like a fresh shrimp? What happening or not happening? Just as Ji Yingying was about to glare at Yang Jingyuan, the words “White Prince” suddenly registered, and she blurted out: “White Prince?!”
Yang Jingyuan “helpfully” introduced: “This is the King’s brother of Nanzhao, the White Prince. You know him?”
Ah? Should she say she knows him or not? Ji Yingying carefully looked at Sheng Fengze and the row of black-faced guards behind him.
Her timid wife-like expression infuriated Yang Jingyuan: “Why aren’t you speaking?”
Sheng Fengze suddenly spoke: “It was this king’s fault for frightening Lady Ji. This king admired Tang’s prosperity and once traveled to Yizhou with merchant caravans. For convenience, I concealed my identity from you. My name is Sheng Fengze. I told you my surname was Sheng—that wasn’t a lie.” He then explained to Yang Jingyuan, “So, whether she says she knows this king or not, both are acceptable.”
Hmph! Like I need your explanation? Yang Jingyuan smiled coldly and nodded: “Oh, I see.”
Nanzhao… so he was the king of Nanzhao. Nanzhao’s king. Ji Yingying stared at Sheng Fengze. Nanzhao collected the secret methods of Yizhou’s brocade-making families. Nanzhao trying to steal the secrets of Tang craftsmen. Nanzhao—he was doing it for Nanzhao! Sheng Fengze’s past words came rolling back like thunder.