Zhang Zhixu stood alone by the window for a long while without moving.

Jiuquan read the room with keen perception and considerately said, “The Pei Family has sent us an invitation as per custom. Perhaps…”

“What kind of person does he think he is — worthy of my attending his birthday banquet?” The figure by the window said with a sullen expression. “Not going.”

“Then… the storeroom has a set of jewelry and headpieces that just arrived today from Wanbao Tower…”

“Not giving it.” He grew even more irritable. “Why should I? She ought to have spent today locked up in the yamen eating coarse rice and sweet potatoes. What a waste of effort, pulling her out of there, and now she doesn’t even appreciate it.”

The ungrateful creature!

Jiuquan was so startled he lowered his gaze and hurriedly began to withdraw from the room.

But just as his foot was crossing the threshold, the person inside spoke again, in a muffled voice: “Going like that won’t look presentable either. Lu Qingrong will certainly be there, and that woman loves to mock her — if she shows up looking truly shabby and poor, the mockery might well extend to me.”

As he spoke, he raised his chin toward Jiuquan: “Just pick something and send it over to her.”

Jiuquan desperately wanted to laugh, but didn’t quite dare, so he could only clamp his teeth down on both his lips and nod with a muffled sound.

And so Chen Baoxiang, who had been fretting over how to dress herself up, looked up to see a procession of maidservants filing in one after another, each carrying boxes.

“Wow—” She let out a cry of astonishment at the sight of the first few large boxes.

But as more and more boxes came in, the trailing note of her astonishment gradually turned upward in bewilderment: “Huh?”

This many?

Jiuquan clasped his hands in greeting: “By our master’s orders, all of these are being gifted to you, miss.”

Over thirty boxes snapped open in unison, and Chen Baoxiang was nearly blinded by the glittering display.

Exquisite kingfisher-feather gold hairpin ornaments, honey flower crystal hairpins, solid gold magpie-blossom pins, ice-green jade bangles, jade pendants, twisted gold bangles… and the latest-style hairpiece crown, dress, and satin embroidered shoes from Wanbao Tower.

She drew in a sharp breath, slammed the lids shut, looked around her, grabbed the most expensive-looking one, and marched next door.

“My immortal, have you gone mad?” She kicked the door shut behind her and glared at the person inside, opening the box before him. “Isn’t this practically robbery?”

The room was dim with lamplight, and the figure appeared to be in the middle of changing — his collar slightly open, his skin pale as jade.

Chen Baoxiang was transfixed, and unconsciously swallowed.

Then she snapped back to her senses and spun around rapidly. “My immortal, don’t you go compromising him — that’s Zhang Zhixu’s body!”

“What about Zhang Zhixu?” His voice was languid and unhurried.

“He’s a man of such noble standing — how could I presume to take advantage of him?” Even as she said it, she moved closer and adjusted his collar, pulling it closed.

Zhang Zhixu let her do it without resistance and gave a noncommittal sound. “It’s not as if you’d fancy him anyway.”

“That’s not exactly—wait no, I have something to discuss with you first, look at this.” She opened the box and placed it before him, glaring. “Isn’t this just adding more charges against me?”

“You don’t like them?”

“Of course I like them — only a fool wouldn’t.” She let out a mournful cry and threw herself over the boxes, shielding the treasures under her body like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

Then she lifted her head. “But I only want to borrow them, not keep them. You’re not Zhang Zhixu — if you act as master and give these to me without authorization, and I’m called to account for it later, this alone would be more than enough to have me beaten to death.”

“Don’t worry.” He patted her shoulder.

Chen Baoxiang’s spirits lifted and she was just about to ask if he’d thought of some way out of the predicament — when she heard him continue: “That ten thousand taels from before was already enough to have you beaten to death. Since you can only die once, receiving these extra items hardly makes a difference.”

“…”

With the spirits of someone already dead, she gathered up the boxes and decided to throw caution to the wind and go get changed for the evening.

Zhang Zhixu suddenly let out a muffled groan.

Chen Baoxiang looked back with a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong?”

“The weather is overcast today — my body doesn’t feel well.” He shifted his shoulder uncomfortably. “I’m in some pain.”

“Where are Ningsu and Jiuquan?”

He cast a sideways glance at the door and pressed his lips together, lowering his voice: “I’m not close with them. I’m afraid of giving myself away.”

A fair point — it was better for the immortal to be cautious.

Chen Baoxiang immediately set down her things and followed his directions, rummaging through the cabinet for the medicinal ointment.

The trouble was, the wound was on his back and chest, which left her in a difficult spot: “This isn’t quite appropriate, is it — looking at his body like this—”

“Better than dying from the pain.”

Fair enough.

With considerable enthusiasm, Chen Baoxiang pulled off his inner garment.

Zhang Zhixu was truly someone who had been raised in luxury and comfort — even though he practiced martial arts, his skin was remarkably fair, the ridge of his spine subtly visible beneath, his arm tendons taut and sturdy.

Which made the arrow wound on his back all the more jarring.

Looking at that wound, Chen Baoxiang felt a moment of daze come over her.

Zhang Zhixu’s back was to her and he couldn’t see her expression, so he only asked, “Did it leave a very ugly scar?”

“No,” she came back to herself and used her fingertips to dab ointment and apply it. “It looks like it’s already scabbed over.”

“Scabbed is scabbed — it still aches in rainy weather.” He lied shamelessly.

One really did take on the qualities of those one spent time with — before this, he’d had no ability to tell lies this smoothly, but now his face and heart remained calm as he deceived even this accomplished liar standing before him.

Chen Baoxiang applied the medicine with genuine care.

Her fingertips were cool and tingling, spreading the ointment inch by inch across the scar, and his skin instinctively pulled taut in response.

Zhang Zhixu had originally intended to stir up a little trouble and delay the time — but with his clothes disheveled like this as she applied medicine, he found himself suddenly more ill-at-ease than she was.

His fingers curled inward. The tips of his ears flushed pink.

The dim candlelight danced on the lamp stand, their overlapping shadows falling into the bed curtains — no matter how one looked at it, something was not quite right here.

He abruptly pulled his outer robe closed and turned his face away. “That’s enough.”

“Oh, alright.” Chen Baoxiang was thoroughly natural about it, without a trace of embarrassment, and set down the medicine bottle and moved to stand up.

Young Master Zhang the Second suddenly became very frail, his body swaying unsteadily as if about to topple sideways.

She quickly reached out to catch him, with a note of concern in her voice: “This wound was left from that evening at the celebration banquet. Having Jiuquan and the others come look at it shouldn’t give you away.”

“It’s fine.” The immortal said softly. “I just need to rest a while.”

As he spoke, he tapped one finger on the boxes beside him. “You’ve done a service tonight as well — you can take these as payment now, fair and above board.”

This had been the plan all along?

Chen Baoxiang felt both touched and hesitant. “This… isn’t quite right, is it?”

Even as her mouth said the words, her hands were already reaching out to gather the boxes, and once she had the treasures clutched tightly to her chest, the corners of her mouth spread all the way to her ears.

Zhang Zhixu shot her a sidelong glance and laughed through his nose, then straightened up and reached for the cloth in the water basin to wipe the ointment from her fingers.

But at that very moment, Chen Baoxiang suddenly sprang to her feet, looked outside and said, “Oh no — I’m going to be late to the banquet.”

She had already spent this much time delayed, and she was still thinking about attending.

He tossed the cloth back into the basin, turned away from her coldly, and said, “Have Jiuquan escort you.”

“Thank you, my immortal — I’ll be off then.”

She ran back to her room to change, then dashed quickly down the stairs, her footsteps pounding on the wooden steps — thump, thump, thump, all the way down.

Zhang Zhixu stared at the wall, the thumping grating on his nerves.