Li Jingyun returned to the main courtyard, lazily settling onto the couch, and was just about to speak when he was suddenly met with the sight of Yin Huayue’s face, grinning so widely her eyes had nearly disappeared.

Pressing a hand to his chest, he stepped back. “What’s this all about, out of nowhere?”

Huayue leaned in eagerly, pouring him tea obediently, then holding up a plate of preserved fruit toward him with a smile. “Your face didn’t look too good, Young Master. If there’s anything troubling you, just tell this servant.”

Li Jingyun picked up a piece of preserved fruit and popped it in his mouth. “I’m just bored today, nothing else.”

“Weren’t you worried about how to handle the Princess Imperial?” She blinked. “Have you thought of a solution?”

His eyes flickered slightly; Li Jingyun continued chewing the fruit without changing his expression. “A solution, well, I have actually thought of one.”

“Oh?” Huayue paused, trying not to seem too eager, and only asked, “Would you tell this servant, then?”

Brushing the sugar coating off his hands, Li Jingyun looked up at the roof beam and gave a soft laugh. “Young ladies from good families willing to play the scapegoat aren’t easy to come by, but ordinary girls who simply want a comfortable, prosperous life — there’s no shortage of those. Great Liang places heavy weight on the order of marriage — a wife must be taken before a concubine. If I take a concubine first, I won’t be able to establish a proper wife for a full year afterward.”

Hearing this, Huayue’s mouth couldn’t help but stretch toward her ears. “What a clever plan, Young Master — to think of such a thing.”

“It’s also a matter of necessity.” Li Jingyun sighed, sounding troubled.

Kneeling down carefully beside the couch, she asked cautiously, “Do you already have someone in mind?”

“For taking a concubine, why would I need to pick someone specific? Just grab anyone off the street, or buy one from Qifeng Tower.” He glanced outside carelessly. “Have Liu Chenghe help pick one.”

“No matter what, it’s someone who’ll be by your side — won’t you go take a look yourself?”

“She’ll just be taken in and set aside anyway, what’s there to look at?” He waved a hand, not particularly bothered, opening the book on the couch and laying it over his own face. “This lord is tired. You should rest too.”

The light before her eyes dimmed; the scent of ink from the book filled the air. Li Jingyun’s body relaxed, though his ears remained attentively focused to the side.

He heard Yin Huayue rub at her sleeve, then push herself up off the footstool beside the couch, hesitate, take a breath as if to speak, then forcibly swallow it back down.

Truly hesitant and uncertain.

Now that she was right at the edge of the pit, Li Jingyun wasn’t in any hurry either, patiently waiting. Before long, he heard her say, “Young Master Liu is busy on ordinary days too — why don’t I take a look for you instead?”

“You?” With the book covering his eyes, his eyes were full of amusement, though his tone remained ordinary. “Do you know what kind of person this lord likes?”

The person knelt back down, moving closer to him. “This servant doesn’t know, but perhaps the young master could give some guidance.”

He set the book down, his face returning to a cold, composed expression. He glanced at her and gave a snort. “I like someone obedient and docile, someone who doesn’t talk too much and isn’t annoying, with a face as beautiful as a painting and a waist as slender and soft as a willow branch.”

Her eyebrows lifted. Huayue picked up a nearby vase with a slender-necked design, pointing at its narrow neck and the painting on it. “Like this?”

Li Jingyun: “…”

Irritated, he took the vase from her hand and tossed it back onto the couch. “Your taste is so poor, you’d better not get involved in this.”

“Calm yourself, Young Master.” Huayue quickly gave an apologetic smile. “I was just talking — this servant will do her best to select someone for you.”

“Once you’ve chosen, bring the birth-date card for me to see.” He put the book back over his face.

Huayue agreed, rose to leave, but couldn’t help asking one more question. “If the person chosen meets the requirements but doesn’t suit your taste—”

“No matter.” Li Jingyun said gruffly. “As long as she meets the requirements, bring the card. This lord isn’t that picky.”

Letting out a soft breath, she bowed to him, her expression complicated as she withdrew from the main room.

Walking calmly through the corridor, Huayue tried to reassure herself — she was only leaving herself a way out, not necessarily committing to this path. She knew well enough how little Li Jingyun thought of her; unless it came down to absolute necessity, there was no need to humiliate herself.

But no sooner had she finished this thought than she saw Wen Guzhi hurrying toward her.

“Steward Yin.” Wen Guzhi sighed the moment he saw her. “Rushing off to watch the excitement too?”

Huayue bowed to him, then asked in confusion, “What excitement?”

“That girl named Sishui — she’s died, at the inn outside the temporary palace.” Wen Guzhi covered his nose with his sleeve, looking queasy. “I just came from there. The state of the body was too terrible.”

“Dead…” Taking a deep breath, Huayue said, shocked, “She’s dead?”

“Yes, and no one knows who did it. The Crown Prince and Princess Imperial are both out at the hunt right now — they probably haven’t gotten the news yet. Once they return, there’ll surely be another bloody storm.”

Wen Guzhi went on, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “As for whether her death has nothing to do with the Princess Imperial — I don’t believe that for a second. But there’s no evidence right now, so it’ll likely just be left unresolved in the end. Such is the fate of servants… hm? Steward Yin, are you alright?”

Huayue smiled gently. “What could possibly be wrong with this servant?”

Wen Guzhi looked at her face with astonishment. “You’ve gone white as paper, and you’re sweating. Let me check your pulse.”

“No need.” She waved her hand awkwardly, then said hesitantly, “This servant is fine, just a little startled. She was, after all, one of the Crown Prince’s people, and yet she still ended up dead like this.”

Wen Guzhi found nothing strange about it. “The Crown Prince has plenty of people under him — someone without even a proper title barely counts for anything. Besides, she brought it on herself, clearly knowing the Princess Imperial wasn’t someone to be trifled with, and still getting into a spat with that maid in front of the Third Young Master.”

Huayue’s smile grew even more strained. “That maid… wasn’t she just a servant of Miss Han’s?”

“Depends whose backing a servant has behind her.” He laughed. “That little maid is a nasty piece of work, always stirring up gossip. Once she found her chance and reported it to Han Shuang, and Han Shuang went crying to the Princess Imperial — was there ever going to be a good ending for Sishui after that?”

Her body swayed slightly; Huayue steadied herself against a nearby stone pillar.

Wen Guzhi watched her with concern. “Are you really alright?”

Weakly shaking her head, she leaned against the pillar and looked toward the distant mountain peaks, her voice trembling as she asked, “Imperial Physician Wen, which matters more — face, or life?”

Scratching his head, puzzled, Wen Guzhi said, “Naturally, life. All that talk of preferring to shatter as jade than survive whole as a roof tile — it’s all nonsense. If you were only ever a roof tile to begin with, it makes no difference whether you shatter or not. Better to leave yourself a way to live, no?”

Having said this, he saw the person before him fall silent for a moment, her amber eyes flickering, wavering between confusion and resolve, looking exactly like a soldier steeling herself to march to war.

A moment later, she recovered her composure and smiled at him. “Thank you, Imperial Physician Wen. This servant will take her leave now.”

Wen Guzhi nodded, his gaze sweeping over her thin, frail frame and pale face, unable to help but sigh inwardly.

The Third Young Master really was something else — the things he put people through.

“Achoo—”

Li Jingyun, lying comfortably on the couch, suddenly sneezed for no reason. Puzzled, he sat up to check and realized it was already close to lunchtime.

The door opened, and Yin Huayue entered carrying a tray. “Young Master.”

Li Jingyun turned to look, eyebrows lifting slightly.

Previously she had only worn a single plain silver hairpin; now there was also a small floral ornament tucked at an angle into her hair bun, adding a touch of delicate beauty. She had changed out of her grey squirrel-fur robe and now wore a pale blue silk gown over an ivory-white inner robe, matching perfectly with the outside spring scenery, a pale green sash wrapped twice around her waist — truly as soft and slender as a willow branch.

A hint of a smile rose in his eyes; Li Jingyun feigned as if he’d seen nothing, only asking, “What’s for lunch today?”

The person before him seemed a little dejected, her skirt hem swaying, looking even more hesitant. But after just a moment, she steadied herself and answered with a smile, “The cook prepared wild boar meat, along with the pheasants and rabbits caught these past few days — all made into delicacies.”

Moving leisurely to the table, Li Jingyun picked up his chopsticks and tried a couple of bites.

Huayue stood by his side, serving him food with her hands, ladling out the soup and setting it aside first, then quietly watching him.

Perhaps feeling somewhat uncomfortable under her gaze, he frowned. “Why are you so quiet today?”

Huayue pressed her lips together, saying quietly, “This servant is usually quiet.”

Pressing his knuckles to his lips to suppress a smile, he said with mock seriousness, “Then you may go — I’ll enjoy some peace and quiet before me.”

Pausing briefly, Huayue nodded obediently and started to bow and step back.

Li Jingyun watched from the corner of his eye as she retreated halfway, then froze, fingers picking at her sleeve, before slowly walking back. “Young Master, this servant has one more matter to report.”

“Speak.”

The room was filled with the scent of sandalwood incense, and the food on the table was fragrant too. In such a setting, a person should feel at ease — yet Yin Huayue’s body was tense, even her eyelids tightly clenched.

“The plan you thought of, taking a concubine to block your parents’ pressure over a wife, is indeed workable. But your mother and father won’t help but be angry, and if someone else were to enter the household because of this, life could be difficult for her.” She wrung her hands. “This servant has thought it over, and has one idea.”

A birth-date card was raised before his eyes. Li Jingyun didn’t even glance at it, his gaze falling directly on her fingers, curled tight and pale.

“What idea? Let’s hear it.” He crossed his arms, like an old fisherman about to reel in his catch, waiting unhurriedly.

Her lips nearly bitten to the point of bleeding, Huayue stammered a couple of words.

“Speak up.” He said impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, Huayue gathered every ounce of courage she had left in this lifetime and suddenly blurted out in one breath: “Rather than spending money to find someone else outside, the young master might as well take this servant instead — this servant is obedient and doesn’t talk much, and though not beautiful, doesn’t eat much either, won’t upset your mother, and won’t cause the young master any trouble.”

Having said it all in one breath without pausing, Huayue silently congratulated herself on how well she’d done, then held her breath, waiting for his response.

She really did think this was a good plan — it would save money and be of help, while also protecting her own life. Even though becoming Li Jingyun’s concubine would put her at the center of attention, compared to being dismembered without anywhere to even scream for help, this path was truly a wide, open road.

But the man before her, after hearing all this, gave no response for a long moment.

Her heart sinking bit by bit, Yin Huayue recalled his previous mockery of her, her lashes trembling as a hint of regret began to creep in.

How would Li Jingyun see her now? A shameless servant scheming to climb into her master’s good graces, forgetting her proper place, thinking instead of how to rise above her station — utterly brazen and audacious.

Steward Yin, upright and dignified in front of others, secretly seducing her master behind closed doors!

The more she thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed. Huayue retreated half a step, murmuring, “This servant was only joking, Young Master, don’t take it to heart. This servant just noticed you’ve been cooped up in this room all day and was worried you’d get bored…”

Before she could finish, her wrist was suddenly gripped tight.

The smile in Li Jingyun’s eyes nearly broke through, but remembering the last disaster, he didn’t dare laugh openly, forcing himself to keep a stern face. “You want to become my concubine?”

“That’s not exactly what I meant either.” She smiled awkwardly, struggling a little to free her hand. “This servant just thought… having a decorative figure in your courtyard could ward off trouble, more convenient than an outsider.”

This person really couldn’t lie — the moment she did, her earlobes flushed red, her eyes darted about, yet she still forced herself to maintain her composure, keeping up her “Steward Yin” bearing — utterly endearing.

If it weren’t for fear of a cornered dog biting back, he’d honestly have liked to crouch down and tease her properly.

Opening the birth-date card in his hand, he found “Yin Huayue” and her birth date written on it, unsurprisingly. Li Jingyun glanced at it once, then closed it, saying reluctantly, “Put that way, it does seem to make sense.”

The half-dead Steward Yin suddenly perked up as if injected with new life, grasping his hand excitedly. “Does that mean the Young Master agrees?”

“Didn’t I already say — it makes no difference who I take, and since you already belong to the General’s Manor, taking you in would be quicker anyway.” His face showed not a trace of joy, looking every bit like an old man picking cabbage at the market. “Mm, you’ll do, then.”

Had this been any other time, Huayue would have been furious enough to want to bite him — but right now, she felt something closer to overwhelming relief mixed with joy, grasping his sleeve, nearly ready to kowtow to him. “Thank you, Young Master.”

Li Jingyun glanced at her lazily. “Remember what you said — obedient and docile.”

Huayue nodded rapidly like a bird pecking rice.

Having nodded, she looked at him again hesitantly. “If the Young Master truly takes this servant in, will you protect her?”

He gave a soft laugh, chopsticks twirling between his fingers, and suddenly picked up a piece of meat, holding it to her lips, his eyes deep and unreadable. “If I couldn’t even protect a maid, I’d have wasted my whole life. If it comes to that, I’ll follow you down to the underworld together.”

A great weight in her heart finally settled. Huayue, mouth already open, instinctively bit into the meat, asking indistinctly through her chewing, “So when will the concubine-taking ceremony be held?”

“Once we’re back in the capital, there’ll be plenty of time.” Li Jingyun picked up another piece of meat, waving it in front of her lips. “No rush.”

Her eyes widened; the person before him suddenly grew anxious. “No, let’s just find something here to do it with — taking a concubine isn’t such a grand ceremony anyway.”

While she was speaking, he took the opportunity to slip the meat into her mouth, watching her chew with satisfaction, then said, “There’s nothing here suitable. Too rushed.”

“Not rushed at all — isn’t there the white deer you caught for this servant?” Huayue swallowed the meat in her mouth. “We can use that as the betrothal gift.”

As she spoke, as if afraid he might change his mind, she pulled him up and dragged him toward the door.

This was the first time she had ever taken the initiative to pull his hand like this; Li Jingyun followed her with small steps, glancing down to see their fingers intertwined.

Her fingers were tender and soft beyond words for someone who otherwise seemed so cold and unfeeling, clinging to him gently, as if afraid he might change his mind.

The corner of his lips, held tense for so long, finally couldn’t help but curl upward broadly.

The stubborn little fortune-bringer had finally fallen into the pit, and had obediently buried herself in it too.

As the master of the house, he felt quite gratified.

The white deer kept in the back courtyard was grazing when suddenly two people appeared before it. The one in ivory-white pulled the one in blue-black over, murmuring something. The blue-black-clad one gave the deer a disdainful glance, then reluctantly bowed alongside the ivory-white one.

“Ceremony complete.” The one in ivory-white cheered.

The one in blue-black shook his head. “This deer’s only rare for its color — the meat isn’t even good. Why bother bowing to it?”

The white deer: ?

Reaching to add a handful of fodder to the trough, Huayue said, “The simpler this is, the better. No one here would be quite suitable anyway — this deer just happened to be convenient.”

Giving a soft snort through his nose, playing with her fingers while glancing at her hair, he said, “Well, since the ceremony’s complete, you should change your look too.”

She thought about it and nodded. “But this servant has no other clothes or jewelry with her.”

“That’s easily arranged.” He turned, tugging at her fingers to lead her. “Come with me.”

At the third quarter of the未时 hour, the sunlight was rather bright. Shen Zhiluo leaned by the window, tugging at his collar.

He had changed out of his usual starry robe and was now wearing a blue crane-patterned long garment sewn by Miss Su herself; his brow and eyes carried their usual cold indifference, his features as striking as ever.

Su Miao sat beside him, chin propped in her hand, watching him. She’d been watching for half an hour without moving.

Shen Zhiluo felt rather helpless. “Don’t you have anything else to do?”

“Mm.” Su Miao nodded, smiling brightly. “Cousin told me to keep an eye on you.”

A flash of irritation crossed his brow; Shen Zhiluo looked away. “The Third Young Master really is something.”

“Naturally my cousin is impressive — there’s no one in the whole capital who doesn’t praise him.” Su Miao clasped her hands together, sighing with admiration, then turned back to look at him, still full of adoration. “But he’s not as impressive as you. You know everything.”

Taking a deep breath, Shen Zhiluo said solemnly, “Since Miss Su has said as much, I’ll happily offer some advice in return — you and I have no fated bond. Forcing this together will only hurt you, Miss Su.”

Hearing this, Su Miao’s smile didn’t fade in the slightest. “Will I die because of it?”

“No.”

“Then that’s fine.” She clapped her hands and smiled brightly. “Once we’re back in the capital, I’ll have someone go to your residence to deliver the betrothal gifts.”

“…” A vein twitched at his temple; Shen Zhiluo’s tone grew colder still. “Miss Su, setting aside whether this can even happen — even if it does, it should be me delivering the betrothal gifts to you.”

Su Miao raised an eyebrow, her fox-like eyes narrowing, giving a light “Ah.” “Is that how it works? I thought it was the willing party who delivers gifts to the unwilling party — that way, having taken your hand and eaten your food, you couldn’t very well back out of the engagement.”

What kind of logic was this — Shen Zhiluo felt a headache coming on, thinking only the General’s Manor could raise a young lady like this. In any other family, she’d have long since been charged with some scandal and drowned in a river.

He very much wanted to lose his temper, but thinking of the item in Li Jingyun’s hands, he forced the anger back down.

“Miss.” A maid ran in through the door, beaming with joy. “The Third Young Master just went to your room and took away your new clothes and jewelry.”

Hearing this, Su Miao’s face immediately darkened; she slapped the table and turned around. “Is there some happy occasion going on?”

The table gave a resounding bang, the teacups on it trembling.

Shen Zhiluo’s eye twitched again.

The little maid seemed already thoroughly accustomed to such scenes, not the least bit flustered, and stepped forward with a smile. “If the Third Young Master had taken them for himself, this servant certainly would have stopped him. But he took them for a young lady, and left this note for you as well.”

Suspicious, Su Miao glanced at her, then took the note and read it.

“Your foolish brother is taking a concubine today, unprepared with proper adornments — borrowing some of yours for the moment. Once back in the capital, will repay double.”

Pleased with the last four characters, Su Miao nodded. “At least he knows his manners.”

The note was crumpled and stuffed back into the maid’s hands. She turned to continue looking at Shen Zhiluo, but suddenly something felt off.

“Wait a moment!” She snatched the note back from the maid, unfolding it again and staring wide-eyed at the first line.

“Taking a concubine?!”

The last word came out so sharp it nearly cracked. Shen Zhiluo, startled by the noise, covered his ears, not understanding what was happening, and looked up.

Wrapped in a rouge-red gown, her head full of jeweled hairpins and golden combs, Huayue was momentarily stunned upon suddenly seeing herself like this in the bronze mirror.

Li Jingyun sat before her, looking her over left and right, nodding reluctantly. “Passable.”

Uneasily looking around, Huayue asked, “Why did we have to come here?”

Instead of staying in the perfectly good main room, Li Jingyun had insisted on dragging her to find an empty room elsewhere in the temporary palace, even instructing the servants not to inform anyone else. It was already late, and he showed no intention of returning.

“For some peace and quiet.” Li Jingyun yawned, half-closing his eyes. “This lord advises you to get a good night’s sleep, and not ask any questions — otherwise tomorrow you won’t be able to handle the situation.”

Outside, the moon hung high — time to retire for the night. Huayue nodded in understanding, then asked, puzzled, “There’s only one bed in this room. Where should this servant sleep?”

Li Jingyun choked slightly, glaring at her with displeasure, pinching her chin to mouth the words to her: “妾身” — this concubine.

The face before her suddenly loomed larger, their breaths nearly touching. Huayue’s pupils shrank; stammering, she mimicked, “This… this concubine.”

“That’s the proper way for a side consort to refer to herself.” He nodded with satisfaction, then asked, “Do you know where a side consort should sleep?”

Huayue was taken aback, her face flushing slightly. “Weren’t we just going to put on a show for appearances?”

“As a concubine, if you’re going to be put on display, it’ll be on my bed. Where else did you think you’d be displayed?” He glanced at her, his expression suddenly turning grave. “Could it be you never really thought this through — that saying you’d be my concubine was just a moment’s impulse?”

“I…”

“Steward Yin isn’t usually so impulsive, is she — perhaps there’s something else behind this?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Could it be you’re trying to use me to shield yourself from something…”

“No.” She denied it quickly, turning to spread out the bedding. “This servant was simply foolish. Please, this way, Young Master.”

Li Jingyun rose, saying with generous magnanimity, “In this life, don’t be too hard on yourself. If you’re unwilling, don’t force it — I wouldn’t want people saying I coerced you.”

Feeling utterly dejected inside, she didn’t dare show it, only forcing a smile. “How could that be? This concubine is quite willing.”

Li Jingyun, satisfied, lay down on the inner side of the bed.

Huayue glanced once at the night sky outside, her eyes distant and melancholy, then shut the flowered window with a snap, tidied herself, and climbed into bed as well.

The bed was fairly wide; she pressed herself against the edge, keeping a full foot of distance between them.

The lamp went out; darkness fell before her eyes, only the faint outline of the bed canopy visible above. Huayue gripped the edge of the bed, motionless. The person beside her lay quiet for a moment, then suddenly spoke: “Come here.”