Moonlight filtered through the window lattice into the room. In the dim light, after her eyes adjusted, Ji Yingying gradually made out the bamboo leaves embroidered on the green bed curtains.
Those days of secret meetings with Zhao Xiuyuan at the Bamboo Grove Temple had been joyful. So joyful that she had wanted to tell everyone. But she couldn’t tell her close friends from the inner chambers, like the eldest Young Madam Zhang whom she’d grown up with, or Second Young Master Zhu’s younger sister. The former’s eyes would light up at the mention of Zhao Xiuyuan, while the latter would surely tell her brother immediately. She could only return home and add another strand of emerald bamboo to her curtains. Gradually, all her drapes became adorned with bamboo.
Ji Yingying turned to her side, propping her face with her hand, reaching out to touch the embroidery.
Sometimes there was no one to blame. One could only blame fate.
The curtain moved under her hand, and through the green gauze, Ji Yingying saw a shadow cast on the window. Was there wind tonight? Had it blown the Chinese parasol tree’s shadow onto the window?
She stared blankly, her thoughts drifting to the front courtyard. She thought of the fully lit building, of Zhao Xiuyuan sitting in the lamplight. Her heart knotted up again.
While Ji Yingying was lost in thought, a thin dagger slipped through the window crack, gently prodding at the latch.
The latch made a clear clicking sound as it was picked open.
Ji Yingying heard it too. She watched as the window slowly pushed open. A… thief! Ji Yingying quickly covered her mouth, trembling in fear. She regretted not having Xiang’er sleep on a pallet in her room to keep watch.
The main room was far from the side chambers, and even further from the main courtyard. If she called for help now, what if the desperate thief rushed in? She might not even make it into the courtyard before being harmed.
Ji Yingying abandoned the thought of fleeing through the door.
She quietly got off her bed, felt for the candlestick on the low table beside it, and pulled out the candle, exposing the sharp tin tip. This gave her some courage.
The intruder was very careful, trying not to make any noise, pushing the window open bit by bit.
The bedroom was simply furnished, with storage chests and a dressing table against the wall. A low table sat before the bed, with a screen behind it. The bed was too low to hide under. Hiding behind the screen would make her too easy to find. Without hesitation, Ji Yingying gripped the candlestick with its point forward and approached the back window. As soon as the thief climbed in, she would stab him and then call for help.
The moment the window opened, Ji Yingying thrust the candlestick forward with all her might.
A rush of movement cut through the darkness, and Yang Jingyuan instinctively dodged, guided by his keen instincts.
Having missed her strike, Ji Yingying stumbled forward near the window, looking up to find herself face-to-face with him. The person wore a mask and night-stalking clothes—not someone with good intentions!
Seeing her eyes grow wider and her mouth open, Yang Jingyuan didn’t dare let her cry out. He leaped through the window and, just as Ji Yingying was about to scream, covered her mouth and struck a point on her wrist.
Ji Yingying’s wrist went numb, and her hand loosened. With a clang, the tin candlestick fell to the floor.
The sound was particularly jarring in the night. Ji Yingying’s heart leaped with joy, and she struggled to kick again, making the candlestick roll and clatter against the floor several more times. Xiang’er, Ling’er… don’t sleep too deeply. Hurry and hear the noise, call for help!
Yang Jingyuan’s heart rolled with the candlestick as he strained his ears to listen. After waiting a moment with no response to the room’s disturbance, he finally relaxed. This girl was truly bold—discovering someone picking her window lock, she didn’t think to call for help but tried to handle it herself. Thinking of this, Yang Jingyuan wanted to scold her for being foolish.
Ji Yingying was firmly held in his embrace, her forehead breaking out in a sweat, regretting her choices bitterly. If she had screamed when she first spotted him, she might have had a chance to escape.
Was this thief drawn by the Zhao family’s banquet? Why not steal from the Zhao family then? The Ji family was just a modest household with little worth taking. Unless… was he a rapist? At this thought, Ji Yingying nearly fainted from fear.
In the darkness, she trembled in his arms, while he found himself at a loss for what to do with her. He dared not let go, fearing she would scream. Yet he didn’t want to speak and reveal his voice. They remained frozen in this standoff.
Her face wasn’t even as big as his palm, soft and delicate. His hand touched her soft lips as she breathed rapidly, her breath tickling his palm.
He had only wanted to deliver a letter warning her about the Zhao family. He didn’t want Ji Yingying to know it was him. The more mysterious, the more likely she would believe it. If she knew it was him, she might think he was trying to sow discord.
While Yang Jingyuan hesitated, Ji Yingying caught the strong, unfamiliar male scent on him, becoming even more convinced he was a rapist. Why was her fate so bitter? Tears suddenly streamed down her face.
She was crying from fear. Yang Jingyuan had no choice but to disguise his voice and say, “I’m not a bad person.”
Breaking into a room at midnight, masked and dressed in night-stalking clothes. And shamelessly holding her tight—not a bad person? Ji Yingying made muffled sounds. Go ahead and let go, good sir. I promise to scream and alert my family immediately.
“I’m here on someone’s behalf. To deliver a letter. If you don’t scream, I’ll let go.”
Deliver a letter? Ji Yingying made a few more questioning sounds.
Yang Jingyuan released her and quickly placed a letter on the low table.
Ji Yingying looked—it was a letter delivery: “Who sent you to deliver this?”
Moonlight streamed through the window onto Ji Yingying in her white simple clothes and pink loose trousers, her bare feet on the brown floorboards looking as pure as moonlight itself. Yang Jingyuan stared, transfixed. When he suddenly heard her question, he forgot to disguise his voice and answered casually, “It’s written clearly, read it yourself.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew his mistake and turned to leave in frustration.
“Third Young Master Yang, I’ll ask once more: who sent you to deliver this letter?” Ji Yingying had indeed recognized his voice. The more she looked at his figure, the more familiar it seemed, and she called out his name directly.
Yang Jingyuan wanted to slap himself. He turned around and pulled down his mask, revealing his handsome face, and said with a grimace: “It’s almost midnight, why aren’t you asleep yet? Seeing someone picking up your window, why didn’t you call for help? You don’t know martial arts, what were you doing playing hero with a candlestick? Are you stupid?”
Ji Yingying was furious: “You nearly scared me to death! And you have the nerve to criticize me? This is my home, I can sleep whenever I want. You’re the one not sleeping at midnight, breaking into my bedroom through the window—what were you trying to do?”
He could have slipped the letter through the door crack, but he didn’t want the early-rising maids to discover someone had come in the night. So he had gone to the back window. Fortunately, the room wasn’t bright enough, or Ji Yingying would have seen Yang Jingyuan’s completely red face. He stiffened his neck and said: “I just came to deliver a letter, don’t talk like I’m a thief. I wasn’t planning to come in—you lunged at me as soon as I opened the window. Good thing I was quick enough to dodge, or you would have stabbed a hole in me.”
Ji Yingying, still shaken, retorted: “What’s wrong with me stabbing a thief? Sneaking around at midnight—what letter is so urgent it has to be delivered now?”
Yang Jingyuan was speechless. Wasn’t he just anxious to tell her about what happened at the Scattered Flowers Banquet? He turned his face away awkwardly: “Just read it! I’m leaving.”
He nimbly jumped out the window, and Ji Yingying grabbed the letter and pursued: “Hey, you still haven’t said who sent you to deliver this.”
Yang Jingyuan was silent for a moment, then took out the brocade handkerchief from his clothes and placed it on the windowsill: “I found this by the water. Second Young Master Zhao saw this handkerchief. He probably misunderstood you.” He straightened his chest and said, “I deliberately let him see it. What I did wasn’t entirely honorable—scold me if you want!”
The handkerchief lay on the windowsill, its chrysanthemum quietly blooming. If Zhao Xiuyuan saw this handkerchief with Yang Jingyuan, he would think she had told the Yang family that she had matched the colors for that competition brocade. If so, why did he light up the entire Vine Garden tonight? Ji Yingying’s face went pale. She grabbed the handkerchief and threw it out, slamming the window shut: “This handkerchief isn’t mine. Return it wherever you found it!”
Yang Jingyuan bent to pick up the handkerchief, hearing suppressed sobs from within the room, his brow furrowing in distress.