Huayue was the busiest servant in the entire General’s Residence. Before dawn she had to rise to attend to the main courtyard and prepare meals; once it was light, she had to deliver soup and pastries to the General, discipline the servants, and organize miscellaneous affairs. Even after the sun set in the west, there was little rest—she had to compile the preferences of the various ladies of the household for future reference and tally the day’s accounts to balance income and expenses.

These tasks consumed all her energy; at most she managed two hours of good sleep each day.

Still, Huayue felt that even ten times the daily chores combined would be less exhausting than dealing with Li Jingyun.

The gauze curtains hung low; the physician had packed up his medicine box and withdrawn. Li Jingyun leaned against a soft pillow, his ink-black hair spread out, his expression languid.

“How did you fail to hold onto him?” he sighed, like a cat mourning a dead mouse.

Huayue knelt at the foot of his bed, still offering him a soft, gentle smile: “It was this servant’s fault.”

“So when are you going to accept your punishment? Kneeling here all the time is quite an eyesore.”

Huayue lowered her head toward him: “Reporting to Young Master, the General has ordered this servant to attend to Young Master’s medicine first.”

The bitter smell of the medicine bowl on the low table by the bed drifted over. Li Jingyun glanced at it sideways and laughed coldly. “You caused my fall from the horse, and instead of taking your punishment first, you’re here serving medicine?”

He really had the nerve to say that.

Huayue clenched her hands, her face still smiling like an early spring blossom, while inside she cursed him from head to toe.

Some young master he was—just to avoid meeting the Han family, he’d jumped off his own horse. If he’d actually broken a leg, that would almost have been fitting, but instead he lay here without a scratch, faking illness, having frightened Madam half to death.

“Once Young Master has taken the medicine, this servant will go accept her punishment.”

Li Jingyun listlessly pushed away the bowl she offered: “The medicine you’re serving, I can’t swallow it.”

If he couldn’t swallow it, then don’t—serves him right to suffer.

Withdrawing the bowl, Huayue continued kneeling obediently, silently stirring the spoon in the soup.

“What now.” He grew impatient. “Do you plan to linger in my courtyard and not leave?”

“Reporting to Young Master.” Huayue raised her eyes innocently. “Young Master is gravely injured, and with no attendant close at hand, the General is worried, so he specifically ordered this servant to attend to you until the engagement with the Han family is successfully settled.”

The moment she finished, exactly as expected, he flared up at once—a red sandalwood wrist rest flew through the air with a whoosh. Huayue tilted her head to dodge, wind grazing past her ear, followed by a loud clatter.

“Careful, Young Master.” She smiled. “The physician said Young Master suffered a great shock today and needs to rest quietly.”

Let him rest quietly? Wouldn’t that just tie Zhuang Shi’s dog to his side, barking constantly? Li Jingyun’s vision went dark with anger.

He disliked being followed around, which was why the East Courtyard only had a few menial servants and no personal maids or attendants—his father knew this too. Yet he’d still sent Yin Huayue over, which clearly meant he wanted her to keep watch on him.

Glancing at the bowl in Huayue’s hands, Li Jingyun reached out and took it, tilting his head back to drink a mouthful, then frowned.

“Where are the preserved fruits?”

Huayue stood, pulled a small package of preserved fruits from her sleeve pocket, opened it, and handed it to him.

She actually carried such things on her?

Li Jingyun looked away, saying irritably: “I want the plum blossom preserves from Jing’an Hall. Go out and buy some now.”

The person beside him folded her hands and answered with a smile: “By the General’s order, this servant is not to leave Young Master’s side even for a moment. Any errands requiring leaving the residence must be handled by the other servants in the courtyard.”

“…”

Muttering a few curses under his breath, Li Jingyun got up.

“Where is Young Master going?”

“To the privy.” He walked a couple of steps outward, then paused, turning back in disbelief. “You’re going to follow me to the privy too?”

Huayue smiled and bowed at the waist: “This servant will wait outside.”

Flicking his sleeve, Li Jingyun strode out the door, Huayue following closely at his heels, all the way until they reached the back hall entrance, where she stopped.

Glancing back at her out of the corner of his eye, he snorted softly, then went into the back hall and vaulted over the courtyard wall to the side, silently landing outside by the base of the wall.

It was just past noon; the residence was still busy clearing up after the Han family’s visit. This small path outside was deserted—as long as he skirted around the kitchen courtyard ahead, he could slip out through the back gate.

Just a mere servant, and she thought she could trap him in the residence?

No way.

Li Jingyun vigilantly looked left and right, then, light on his feet, slipped past all the household servants without being noticed. When his hand touched the ring on the back gate, he let out a breath of relief and straightened up, adjusting his collar.

He was, after all, the young master of the General’s Residence—unmatched in martial skill and unrivaled in strategy, no one could stop him.

What a shame, Steward Yin.

Offering her a sympathetic tear in his mind, Li Jingyun happily pulled open the back gate.

“Young Master.”

Huayue stood outside the gate, holding up a rolled fragrant handkerchief above her head, respectfully offering it: “Please use this.”

“…”

The gate slammed shut with a bang, and Li Jingyun turned around, rubbing his eyes.

Had he seen wrong? Yin Huayue had just been in the East Courtyard—how could she possibly have gotten here faster than him? He must be seeing things out of a guilty conscience.

After convincing himself several times over, Li Jingyun gently pulled the bronze ring on the back gate again—

The rolled fragrant handkerchief was passed halfway through the open crack in the door, and Yin Huayue’s voice rang out gently: “Miss Han loves jasmine, and this scent is pleasant too. Why not give it a try, Young Master?”

Half his face darkening, Li Jingyun flung the door open and said coldly: “This young master also loves killing people—why don’t you have Miss Han try that?”

“Miss Han has said that Young Master is the treasure of the capital, and whatever Young Master likes, she likes too.” Huayue smiled and bowed. “If Young Master wishes it, this servant will invite Miss Han over so she may try it as well.”

Li Jingyun wiped a hand down his face.

He felt these women were all a bit unreasonable, insisting on marrying him no matter what—what good would it even do them? He wasn’t willing, and even if she married in, she’d just be guarding an empty chamber; better to remain free in her own boudoir. Besides, he hadn’t even established himself in his career yet—why the rush to start a family?

Taking half a step outward, Yin Huayue followed and blocked his path, her face composed into an obedient expression that only fueled his irritation.

Li Jingyun narrowed his eyes: “Do you think this young master has no way to deal with you?”

“This servant wouldn’t dare think so.”

Her mouth said she wouldn’t dare, but her body didn’t yield an inch. Li Jingyun was so furious he laughed instead, no longer bothering to go out the gate. He grabbed her and turned back, crossing the corridor, passing servants who bowed to him, and kicked open the door of the steward’s courtyard.

“Didn’t you say this young master took his medicine and now you’d go accept your punishment?” Tossing her into the courtyard, Li Jingyun sneered. “Go on then. This young master will watch.”

Huayue stumbled a couple of steps before steadying herself, smiling in response: “Yes.”

The people in the steward’s courtyard were stunned, none of them understanding what had happened. It was Nanny Xun, the head steward, who came forward to ask: “Why has Young Master come in person?”

Li Jingyun lifted his chin toward Yin Huayue, his expression dark.

Nanny Xun understood at once, saying softly: “Huayue has troubled Young Master today. The General has already issued his orders on this matter. Young Master need only rest and recover—the rest can be left to us servants.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you.” His expression eased somewhat, and Li Jingyun clapped his hands. “Discipline her properly before sending her back to me.”

“Yes.”

Huayue said nothing, didn’t resist, and obediently knelt before Nanny Xun in a soft, compliant posture.

But just as Li Jingyun took a step toward the door, someone grabbed the hem of his robe.

The fabric bunched up; the fingers gripping it were slender and soft, seemingly without much strength, and yet when he tried to pull free, he found for a moment that he couldn’t.