Shadows of trees swayed, birds took flight, leaves fell. Li Jingyun watched quietly, not a trace of expression on his face.

He tried to convince himself that people could look alike and dogs could resemble each other — today needn’t be the only day anyone wore a water-blue skirt. But when his gaze swept upward, he saw that pale green sash.

A soft willow-leaf ribbon he’d untied so many times, one he knew all too well.

He stared for a while, then gave a cold laugh.

Guarding against him like he was some thief, and yet with someone else she was warm as anything — look how she stood on her toes, why not just get a stool? And those hands — hers were short to begin with, and instead of grabbing anything else, she went for the man’s neck — like a mouse trying to size up an elephant.

Oh, and the man was even laughing, so genuinely delighted and full of joy — the two of them should hardly be in the woods at all, they belonged up on the opera stage, a living scene straight out of The Romance of the Western Chamber.

Li Jingyun couldn’t help but give them a round of applause.

Clap, clap, clap.

In the silent forest, the sound rang out like thunder. Huayue turned sharply at once, narrowing her eyes to look. Once she made out who it was, her expression changed, and she quickly withdrew her hands and stepped aside.

Such a panicked reaction struck Shen Zhiluo as strange, and he let his smile fade, following her gaze upward.

In a flower-blue robe with a woven pine-and-silk pattern, a purple-gold crown shaped like auspicious clouds cradling the moon atop his head, Li Jingyun leaned lazily against an old tree, mockery thick in the corner of his eyes and brows.

“Quite the mood you two have going,” he said.

The person beside him trembled for some reason. Shen Zhiluo frowned, instinctively shielding her behind him, and looked up. “Why is Third Young Master here?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Li Jingyun glanced at the gesture, his eyes growing colder. “The one behind you appears to be my maid.”

There seemed to be a barb hidden in his tone, prickling anyone who heard it. Huayue’s face scrunched up, quickly running through every excuse she could think of in her mind, trying to find something to fool this man.

But before she could think of anything, Shen Zhiluo spoke up directly. “Since she’s Third Young Master’s maid, that’s simple enough. She and I are old acquaintances, and haven’t seen each other in years — might I borrow some time from Third Young Master to catch up?”

Li Jingyun ambled over unhurriedly, stopping right in front of him, his gaze level with his, then smiled generously at him. “Just a maid, and since Lord Shen has asked so nicely, I would certainly…”

The smile vanished at once. He reached out and yanked the person from behind him, saying coldly, “No.”

Huayue stumbled at the sudden pull, and let out an “ah,” about to say something, when another hand suddenly tightened around her as well.

Shen Zhiluo silently gripped her other hand. The wide sleeve, caught by the wind, fluttered slightly, revealing a stretch of pale wrist.

Huayue looked back at him, quite surprised, and raised a brow at him without a word.

What are you doing?

Shen Zhiluo looked back at her, his light violet eyes clouded with a mist, dazed yet stubborn. Huayue found it amusing, tugged her hand free, and shook her head lightly.

The two pulling from either side turned what had been The Romance of the Western Chamber into The Magpie Bridge Meeting, and with him standing there like this, he’d become the Queen Mother keeping the lovers apart.

Li Jingyun watched Yin Huayue’s brows arch delicately, her eyes shifting with feeling — this person who always wore a fake smile toward him turned positively vivid around other men, none of that irritating, cool composure to be seen.

Dark color churning in his eyes, his fingers tightening further, Li Jingyun gave Shen Zhiluo a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and asked, “What, unwilling to lend her, and now you want to just seize her by force?”

His fingers stiffened for a moment, and Shen Zhiluo lowered his eyes, a little irritated. As long as she was alive, that was already good news — as long as she lived, there would be plenty of chances later. No need to rush things now.

He let his hand drop, hidden beneath his purplish-brown sleeve, turned his head aside, and said flatly, “My apologies.”

Li Jingyun gave a cold laugh, pulled her along, and left. His stride was long and brisk, and before long he’d left Shen Zhiluo far behind, out of sight.

Huayue followed the whole way, like a kite tugged along on a string.

“Young master,” she said amid the stumbling steps, trying to explain, “that Lord Shen, before—”

“He used to be someone from the palace, and so were you. It’s only natural you two know each other.” Li Jingyun cut her off without turning around. “I know.”

Huayue gave a placating smile. “Then… does this servant count as having done wrong?”

In broad daylight, a maid, instead of staying by her master’s side attending to him properly, went off with some man who had nothing whatsoever to do with her to meet privately in the woods, embracing and cozying up together in a most improper, shameless manner — and she still had to ask whether that counted as wrong?

Li Jingyun took a deep breath and laughed. “It doesn’t.”

She looked up at him, a little uncertain. “But you look quite angry.”

“Do I?” He let go of her hand and kept walking. “I never get angry over such trivial, insignificant things.”

Watching his rather dashing retreating figure, Huayue rubbed her reddened wrist, thinking she must be overthinking things — when he was truly angry, he always just went straight to scowling and shouting, how could he still smile at her like this?

“Third Young Master.” At the Wild Delicacies Inn, the banquet had already begun. Xu Changyi and Liu Chenghe sat at one table and waved him over. “Come on over here.”

Li Jingyun lowered his eyes and went to sit down. He’d barely settled when Liu Chenghe started chattering away. “Third Young Master, did you hear? Shen Zhiluo’s here too. He never used to come to this sort of thing, but this year he’s even come up the mountain for the opening hunt.”

“He’s not even from a military family, what’s he hunting for? Just here to join the fun, that’s all.” Xu Changyi glanced around, then said quietly, “Personally, I think he must have some other purpose.”

“Don’t forget, the previous dynasty’s eldest prince died right here. Who knows if there’s some device or treasure left behind.”

“He’s got all the power and glory he could want now, what purpose could he possibly have coming to a shabby place like this?”

Huayue stood behind them listening, her knuckles clenched white. She didn’t dare look up, the panic in her eyes hidden beneath lowered lashes, still appearing to be the steady, composed Steward Yin.

Only her body trembled slightly, uncontrollably.

“I hear he’s opened the Heavenly Eye, knows all of fate — should we ask him to read our fortunes later?”

“You think he’s some street fortune-teller? Shen Zhiluo, with that temperament of his, won’t get close to anyone besides His Highness. Ask him for a reading and be glad if he doesn’t curse you instead.”

The chattering went on and on.

Li Jingyun took a sip of tea, let out a calm breath, then gripped his teacup and slammed it heavily onto its saucer.

A sharp crack rang out, the cup wall shattering, tea splashing everywhere.

The two who’d been chattering away fell silent at once, turning their heads in alarm.

Li Jingyun said flatly, “Finished?”

“F-finished.”

“Then let’s eat. We still have more mountain to climb after.”

“…All right.”

Wen Guzhi wasn’t there, and with no one careful enough to notice, Xu Changyi and Liu Chenghe had no idea what had set him off. Third Young Master hadn’t been this angry in a long time, and both of them felt their scalps prickle, not daring to say another word.

It grew quiet around him. Li Jingyun tried to withdraw his hand, but midway through, the person behind him suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

“Young master.” Huayue frowned. “You’re bleeding.”

The base of his thumb had been cut open by a shard of porcelain, bright red beads of blood welling up one after another. She quickly took out a handkerchief and the wound ointment she carried, meaning to stop the bleeding — but before she could even touch the wound, he yanked his hand away.

“Not that delicate.” His voice went cold. “A servant shouldn’t go making decisions for her master.”

Huayue paused, stunned, then stepped back, lowering her head to seriously consider whether she’d overstepped. But before she could reflect on it, Li Jingyun spoke again. “The gear for the hunt isn’t fully prepared yet. After the meal, come with me to find some things.”

Huayue glanced aside — the bow, arrows, and protective gear he’d need today had already been packed that morning. What else could be missing?

But since he’d already said it, she didn’t dare object, and lowered her head in assent.

“The tea’s a little too hot, go fan it cool.”

“Yes.”

“Too cold now, how can you drink that? Go warm it up again.”

“Yes.”

“Still too hot.” He frowned.

Huayue smiled gently, taking the teapot back, and asked softly, “Is the young master in a bad mood?”

“No.” Li Jingyun smiled. “I just can’t stand the tea out here.”

Even someone as slow as Xu Changyi finally sensed something was off. He looked between Third Young Master and the little maid, then tugged at Liu Chenghe’s sleeve and asked in a low voice, “What’s going on?”

Liu Chenghe watched, wiped his face, and steeled himself to ask, “Third Young Master, is your maid here carrying something heavy on her back?”

Li Jingyun turned his head, his eyes edged with cold. “Servants come along to work. If she can’t do a thing, what’s the point of bringing her? Might as well keep her back at the residence and support her for nothing.”

Liu Chenghe shut his mouth and obediently went back to gnawing on the bear paw in his bowl.

The wild banquet ended, and the servants of every household happily went off to eat their own meals. Huayue stood behind Li Jingyun, not daring to slack off in the slightest.

Though this man claimed he wasn’t angry, she still felt something was off, and thought it best to be a bit more attentive — maybe then his temper would ease.

With that thought, Huayue straightened her back further under the pack she carried.

But Li Jingyun still showed no sign of paying her any mind. Having said he’d take her along to find things, the moment they left the inn he walked off at a brisk pace, and she, carrying the heavy load, had to use all her strength just to keep up.

“Y-young master.”

Li Jingyun turned back, impatient. “Walking this slowly, when am I ever going to find what I want?”

Huayue caught her breath and asked him, “What are you looking for?”

Li Jingyun paused, looking away. “It’s somewhere in this forest anyway.”

Huayue made a sound of acknowledgment, shifting the pack on her back, wincing slightly.

That weight pressing on her not-yet-fully-healed wound surely wasn’t a pleasant thing, but if Yin Huayue had acted coquettish with him the way she had with Shen Zhiluo, he probably wouldn’t have had the heart to be so hard on her.

And yet, the whole way, this person hadn’t softened one bit, even carefully protecting the bundle of gear.

Li Jingyun found himself growing even more irritated.

Wandering around the forest aimlessly for two circuits like a headless fly, Huayue finally couldn’t help but ask, “Young master, what exactly are you looking for? Why not just say it — this servant can help look too.”

He stopped in his tracks, and with his back still to her, said, “If you don’t want to keep looking, go back first. I’ll manage on my own.”

He said this out of spite — though he himself didn’t quite know what he was so worked up about, but with a fire smoldering in his chest that wouldn’t go out, he snapped at whatever came to hand.

But the person behind him, hearing this, actually set down the bundle and turned to walk back.

Her embroidered shoes crunched over the fallen leaves, the sound growing fainter and fainter until, before long, it vanished altogether.