Her soaked sleeve clung to her arm, nearly transparent, water droplets sliding down her pale wrist and dropping into the pool, spreading ripple after ripple.

Huayue tilted her head back to look at him, asking hazily and dazedly, “Why won’t you come down?”

“…”

The man on the shore turned his face away stiffly, saying nothing.

After waiting a long while, her outstretched hand growing cold, Huayue withdrew it, deeply wronged, sniffling at her reddened nose. She swam quietly to the other side of the pool, pressing her back against the pool’s edge, then gazed over at him from a distance, full of resentment.

His throat bobbed, and Li Jingyun drew a breath, torn between laughter and exasperation. “Why did you swim so far off?”

She let her brows droop and opened her mouth to speak, but with her head lowered too far, her lips parted and warm water flooded in, choking her into a fit of coughing.

Amused and exasperated, Li Jingyun crossed the distance around the pool in a few strides and knelt to scoop her out of the water. “Not had enough drinking earlier?”

She looked up at him with resentful little eyes, pouting, pulling free of his hand, pressing her back tightly against the stone wall of the pool’s edge again.

Something flickered in his eyes, and Li Jingyun seemed to understand.

He crooked a finger at her.

The tipsy little pet glared at him angrily and refused to move. He clicked his tongue, tapping a finger lightly against the jade tile at the pool’s edge. “Come here.”

Her cheeks puffed out, flushed from the rising steam, Huayue glared at him for a while, then still reluctantly swam back toward him. The closer she got, the more she sank, until by the time she reached him, only a pair of pitiable almond eyes remained above the water.

His heart went utterly soft, and he sighed, patting her head, saying quietly, “This lord isn’t disgusted by you.”

The person before him clearly didn’t believe it, her brow furrowing, the resentment in her eyes deepening. Seeing that he seemed to have nothing more to say, she began quietly retreating again.

Then, in the next instant, she felt a sudden tightness at her shoulder.

Someone had abruptly lifted her out of the water — a scalding, solid arm sweeping across her waist, turning her whole body around in one motion.

Water splashed and scattered, falling back into the pool like a spring rain, rippling outward in countless ripples. Her soaked inner robe slid down her shoulder, revealing a large expanse of pale, delicate skin and the bright sash of her undergarment.

Huayue stared blankly at the white expanse of water, still not understanding what had happened, when she felt warmth against her back.

Li Jingyun held her, lowering his head to kiss the scars on her back.

Those ugly, twisted scars, unfit to be seen.

One line, two, three — he traced the shape of each scar tenderly, as though mourning, as though cherishing, moving from the small of her back to her shoulders, and finally lightly biting the back of her neck.

“Still hurts?” he murmured indistinctly.

A shiver ran from behind her ear through her whole body, and Huayue’s heart ached; instinctively she reached back to grip his sleeve, her eyes, already unclear, now further clouded, as though caught between dream and waking, at a loss for what to do.

“Hm?” The man behind her, hearing no response, lightly grazed his teeth against the curve of her neck.

“…Doesn’t hurt anymore,” she answered in a daze.

“Good girl.” Warm breath brushed over her as he murmured low against her ear, “These are debts this lord owes you. There’s nothing unsightly about them — you can use them to collect on this lord.”

The person in his arms shrank slightly, asking pitifully, “How… how do I collect?”

Li Jingyun considered this with great solemnity for a moment, then turned her to face him, gesturing earnestly at his own lips. “Kiss here. One kiss pays off one scar.”

Huayue stared at him blankly, her mind already a haze, and watched his gesture, then instinctively followed it, her pale, jade-white arms draping over his shoulders as she leaned down to press her lips to his.

His body went rigid, Li Jingyun’s eyes darkening like deep night.

The wine he’d drunk seemed to finally be catching up to him too, the heat inside him surging up, his hand gripping her waist tightening unconsciously.

The person atop him released him, grinning foolishly as she counted “one,” then leaned down again for another kiss, meaning to count “two.”

Before she could get the number out, he could no longer bear it, reaching to cup the back of her head and pull her back to him.

Steam rose and dispersed around the hot spring, a large patch of the flat pool edge soaked, like a road just dried after rain. His dark green brocade robe tangled with her jade-toned skin, and between the folds of sleeve and hem, a stretch of pale, delicate calf peeked through.

…

The main house was warmed with incense, warm and dry. Li Jingyun carried her back to the bed, meaning to find her a fresh set of clothes, but looking down at her sweetly, soundly sleeping face, he couldn’t help leaning down again to press a few more lingering kisses to it.

He’d never been one to enjoy closeness with others, but for some reason, with her, he felt he could never get close enough.

Unfortunately, she’d fallen fast asleep, missing out on all of it.

Mildly annoyed, he flicked her forehead, then casually pulled his own snow-brocade robe from where it hung nearby, gently drying her still-damp dark hair.

The sleeping figure was well-behaved, her flushed little face innocent and unguarded. Li Jingyun’s eyes crinkled with a smile, the corners of his mouth impossible to hold down. He didn’t even know what he was so happy about, but happy he was.

The sleeping figure mumbled something, her hand waving aimlessly in the air. He caught it, brought it to his lips for a light kiss, then tucked it back beneath the blanket, smoothing the edges around her.

His gaze fell on her slightly swollen lips, and he paused, leaning sideways against the bed, laughing again to himself.

The spring hunt concluded, and everyone began the journey back to the capital.

Huayue sat pale-faced in the carriage, hand pressed to her head, still faintly nauseous.

“Young Master.” She frowned, asking, “Did this concubine do anything improper while drunk yesterday?”

Li Jingyun, chin propped on one hand, gazed at the mountain scenery outside, answering without a flicker of change in his expression, “No. You got drunk and fell asleep.”

“Then…” She found it hard to continue. “Why were my clothes changed?”

He glanced at her sideways, saying matter-of-factly, “You reeked of wine — was this lord supposed to keep those clothes in the room overnight? Between the clothes and you, one of the two had to go. Pick which.”

Her expression grew grave, and after a moment’s silence, Huayue bowed to him with great formality. “Thank you, Young Master.”

Throwing out the clothes was much better than throwing out her.

The corner of his mouth twitching, Li Jingyun cleared his throat lightly and picked up a book to hide his face.

“Are you laughing?” she asked suspiciously.

“No.” His voice was steady. “This lord is just reading.”

She glanced at the cover of the book in his hands, her suspicion deepening. “Reading it upside down and still understanding it?”

Without any change in expression, Li Jingyun quietly turned the book right side up, held it in for a long moment, and finally couldn’t help but burst into low laughter.

“…”

The person before him grew somewhat annoyed, her red lips pressing together, her brow furrowing into a knot.

Seeing that she was genuinely upset, he cleared his throat and set the book down. “Taking this road down the mountain, we’ll reach Baolai Pavilion by midday.”

“Who wants to go to any Baolai—” She stopped mid-sentence, turning to look at him in surprise, her eyes gradually lighting up.

“Baolai Pavilion?”

Li Jingyun said nonchalantly, “Just to look around. Might as well get you some new jewelry while we’re there.”

The cloud of gloom that had darkened her expression a moment ago instantly cleared into open sky. Huayue no longer pressed him about what he’d been laughing at, instead pulling out the two red envelopes she’d kept, holding them out to him with both hands.

“They’re yours. You keep them.” He waved a hand. “Spend them at Baolai Pavilion if you like.”

As if she’d been waiting for exactly those words, Huayue happily hugged the two red envelopes to her chest, eyes darting about eagerly.

Li Jingyun watched with amusement. “Manager Yin, in this shopping scheme of yours, is there any place at all for this lord?”

Her eyes went still, and she glanced at him guiltily, nodding reluctantly.

Just from that reaction, Li Jingyun could guess exactly what she was thinking. He sighed long and heavily, gazing off into the distance with a look of weathered resignation. “An ungrateful little wolf, raised but never tamed.”

Somewhat embarrassed, Huayue moved closer to sit beside him, generously producing one red envelope. “This one’s all for buying things for you, Young Master.”

He glanced at her sideways, a trace of pleasure at the corner of his eye. “What do you want to buy?”

She thought about it, then said tentatively, “A jade pendant to carry with you?”

Li Jingyun snorted dismissively. “Han Shuang once gave this lord a piece of Nanyang jade cicada. One red envelope of yours might not even buy something better than that.”

Her heart clenched, and Huayue set her hand down awkwardly, her lashes lowering to just barely hide the somewhat flustered look in her eyes.

Realizing his words hadn’t come out right, Li Jingyun straightened up, about to find some way to smooth it over, but she had already tucked the red envelope away quickly, her face returning to its usual smile. “Then this concubine will go look around, see if there’s anything else interesting.”

“That’s not—” He opened his mouth. “This lord doesn’t need anything expensive either…”

“Young Master’s status is noble.” She said understandingly. “This concubine simply didn’t think it through carefully enough.”

Pinching himself hard on the thigh, Li Jingyun silently cursed himself — what kind of thing was that to have said. Pulling her aside to insist he hadn’t meant it that way seemed unnecessary; but if he just let it pass, he wouldn’t know whether she truly minded or not.

The person beside him gazed out the window with a calm expression, hands folded in her lap, betraying no emotion either way.

Li Jingyun fell silent, his expression complicated.

The carriages of each household scattered off as they entered the city, and the General’s residence carriage stopped outside Baolai Pavilion, where an observant clerk hurried out to greet them.

“Young Master and Madam, please, this way,” the clerk said, bowing. Looking up again, he added, “Oh? Miss Yin?”

Huayue came to this place every month and was on familiar terms with this clerk, smiling as she said, “I’m here to buy a few things.”

Usually when she came, she wore a plain grey squirrel-fur robe, travel-worn and unadorned. But today, she’d changed into an embroidered red skirt, her hair set with elegant hairpins and flowers, making her skin look jade-fair and her bearing noble and refined.

The clerk gazed at her admiringly, then said quietly, “Should really let our shopkeeper see this — he’d never dare underestimate you again.”

As though recalling something, Huayue laughed along with him.

A shadow suddenly loomed from behind, engulfing the clerk. The clerk felt an inexplicable chill, and a low, cold voice sounded by his ear. “Something funny?”

Startled, the clerk turned to find himself facing Li Jingyun’s displeased gaze, and quickly retreated three large steps. “This lowly one was disrespectful — please, this way.”

Huayue turned to look, only to find his expression entirely normal, even gentle as he said to her, “Go on in.”

Glancing once more at the clerk’s terrified expression, she stepped through the entrance in confusion.

Baolai Pavilion had two floors. Usually Huayue only dared browse the ground floor, but today, with money in hand, she confidently pulled him up to the second floor.

The shopkeeper was sunning himself by the window upstairs, and hearing the commotion, casually turned to look — and nearly fell out of his chair.

“Third Young Master?” He hurried over, beaming. “What brings you here personally today — is there something you’re looking for? Please, sit a moment, this lowly one will fetch it for you.”

Just how many times had he visited to earn a shopkeeper this eager to please? Huayue looked at him with some feeling, thoughtful.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said, half his face darkening. “This lord just happened to be along with Xu Changyi and the others.”

“Mm.” Huayue didn’t argue, nodding to show she’d heard, but clearly didn’t believe him.

Clenching his back teeth, Li Jingyun sat down nearby and pointed at her, saying to the shopkeeper, “Take this little troublemaker to pick out whatever she wants.”

The shopkeeper was startled — the Third Young Master, bringing a woman here to pick things out? This was a first.

He turned to look at the woman again, even more startled. “Why is it you?”

Huayue gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Shopkeeper Hou.”

Previously, whenever she came here, it was with her monthly wages tucked away, spending ages browsing the first floor and haggling over prices. Shopkeeper Hou had never given her a good face, seeing as she was a servant without much money trying to buy fine things. Who could have guessed that now, coming back, the scene would look like this.

His smile stiffening, Shopkeeper Hou glanced at Li Jingyun out of the corner of his eye, not daring to act rashly, and bowed low, inviting her toward the hairpin display.

Baolai Pavilion had a vast array of goods — jewelry, jade pieces, fine silks — and Huayue picked out a great many items, boxes large and small stacking up nearly waist-high.

Shopkeeper Hou wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, saying quietly to her, “I was rather rude before — please don’t take it to heart.”

Huayue looked at him, baffled. “What is the shopkeeper afraid of? I’m simply riding on the young master’s coattails to buy things — it’s not as though I’ll shortchange you on payment.”

“That’s not how it works,” Shopkeeper Hou said with a placating smile. “I’d rather take less silver from you than have any grudge with the Third Young Master.”

Huayue was even more confused. “My young master, however noble his birth, currently holds no official post and has achieved nothing notable — why would the shopkeeper flatter him so?”

Shopkeeper Hou looked at her, disbelieving. “You don’t know? The Third Young Master, out here, is quite—”

“Finished picking?” Li Jingyun, having waited long enough, walked over somewhat listlessly.

Shopkeeper Hou immediately fell silent, smiling at him. “Madam is quite fond of our humble shop’s treasures.”

Full of unanswered questions, Huayue didn’t rush to ask, simply turning to point at the boxes beside her. “That’s all, then.”

Li Jingyun nodded, then asked her quietly, “Hungry?”

“A little,” she said. “If we head back to the residence now, we should still make it in time for a meal.”

“Not eating there tonight,” he said. “Tired of the household’s cooking every day — there’s a decent restaurant nearby, this lord will take you to try it.”

Huayue shook her head quickly at that. “Madam is still waiting at the residence. If she finds out the spring hunt has ended and we still haven’t gone back, she’ll worry.”

Shopkeeper Hou listened with alarm on his face, frantically signaling to her with his eyes — just go along with the Third Young Master’s wishes, why would you go against someone of such standing?

But before Huayue could catch his hint, the Third Young Master before her clicked his tongue and said helplessly, “Fine, back to the residence then.”

Shopkeeper Hou: “…”

He felt his ears might be malfunctioning, or perhaps he was simply too tired earlier and was dreaming right now.

But then Yin Huayue handed him a stack of banknotes, heavy in weight, carrying the familiar scent of paper and ink — nothing at all like a dream.

“Please trouble the shopkeeper to have these delivered to the General’s residence later.”

“Yes.”

He watched the two of them leave, dazed, standing at the entrance for a good while afterward.

“Shopkeeper?” Someone waved a hand in front of his eyes.

Shopkeeper Hou snapped back, focused his eyes, and quickly bowed. “Miss Han.”

Han Shuang, her face showing signs of illness, coughed lightly and said, “The gold-inlaid jade four-butterfly orchid step-shake hairpin I picked out last time — have it delivered to the Han residence.”

Startled for a moment, Shopkeeper Hou said hastily, “That’s unfortunate, that piece was just purchased moments ago.”

Her brow furrowing, Han Shuang asked with a hint of hostility, “By whom?”

“Please don’t blame this one, Miss — it was the Li family’s Third Young Master’s wife who bought it.”

Biezhi beside her cut in sharply, “Don’t talk nonsense — the Third Young Master hasn’t taken a proper wife yet, where would a wife come from!”

The shopkeeper shrank back, quickly cupping his hands. “Forgive me, forgive me — this lowly one wasn’t sure either, only saw the Young Master doted on the girl so much, took her for his newly wedded wife.”

Han Shuang closed her eyes, asking coldly, “Bought a lot?”

“Yes, the banknotes are still right here.” The shopkeeper spread his hands quickly to show her.

Glancing at them, Han Shuang’s mood soured considerably, and she turned to leave — then suddenly stopped.

She turned back, examining the seal marks and watermark on the note’s surface carefully, and her expression changed abruptly.

“Was it the Third Young Master who gave you this, or the girl beside him?”

The shopkeeper had no idea why she was suddenly asking this, but answered honestly all the same, “It was the girl beside the Third Young Master who gave it.”

Nodding, Han Shuang leaned on Biezhi’s arm and returned to the carriage.

“Miss.” Biezhi still seemed indignant. “The Third Young Master has never treated anyone else this well before. We can’t just sit here and wait to be trampled.”

Han Shuang seemed lost in thought.

The carriage curtain fell, and the carriage rolled slowly on toward the imperial palace, the wheels tracing long, winding tracks in the ground.

Huayue followed Li Jingyun through the gate of the General’s residence, and had just finished changing in the eastern courtyard when the items from Baolai Pavilion arrived. She carefully inventoried and put them away, then picked up a few boxes to head back out.

“Hey.” Li Jingyun was quite displeased. “Do you think this lord is dead or something?”

Her raised embroidered shoe froze mid-air, and Huayue explained, torn between laughter and exasperation, “This concubine needs to make a trip to the main courtyard.”

“Then you should still say something proper to this lord first,” he said, frowning, arms crossed sulkily.

Humoring him like a child, she turned back and, smiling, bowed slightly to him. “This concubine is heading out — would Young Master like to come along?”

“Fine,” he said evenly.

“…” Huayue stared at him, wide-eyed.

He got up and walked toward her, reaching out to take all the boxes from her arms, then urged her impatiently, “If we’re going, let’s go quickly — might even score a meal out of it.”

“You—” She was overjoyed, stars practically shining in her eyes. “You’re willing to go see Madam?”

An awkward flicker crossed his handsome face, and Li Jingyun grunted, turning to walk out without looking back. “Consider it your compensation.”

Huayue no longer bothered asking what he meant by compensation — whatever it was, it was fine by her. She lifted her skirt and followed after him, the smile on her face impossible to suppress. “Young Master, watch your step. These are quite heavy in your hands, aren’t they? Let this concubine carry them.”

“No need. I’ll hand them to Badou later.”

“Then would you like to change into something else? Should this concubine fetch that blue carp snow-brocade robe for you?”

That robe had already been used to dry her hair — Li Jingyun found it amusing inwardly but kept his face expressionless, only shaking his head. “No need.”

Huayue was so happy she hardly knew what to do with herself, circling around him like an excited puppy, practically wagging her tail at him.

Handing the boxes over to Badou when he appeared, Li Jingyun rubbed at his knuckles with feigned indifference, a faint hint of discomfort on his brow.

The person beside him reacted quickly this time, her soft little claws immediately wrapping around, pressing and kneading gently at the spot he’d just rubbed, asking softly, “Does this hurt?”

“Mm.” He nodded.

So she held his hand and massaged it the entire way, her warm fingertips pressed against his, never letting go.

Li Jingyun turned his face away, and where she couldn’t see, his eyes were full of laughter.

On the way back, Huayue had assumed the young master wouldn’t come to the main courtyard, so she hadn’t had anyone send word ahead. Now that they were going together, it would be a pleasant surprise for Madam.

That was what she thought, anyway.

But the moment they stepped into the main courtyard, she heard the General’s cold voice from within the main house: “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“You just live out your days in this back courtyard — fine clothes, good food, servants aplenty, whatever you want, you have it. Everything else is none of your concern.”

“You want to help, but you can’t. Why add to your own trouble.”

Her heart clenched, and Huayue let go of Li Jingyun’s hand, hurrying inside with quick, light steps.

Madam Zhuang had always spoken gently, and only as Huayue got closer could she hear her voice: “I don’t want anything now. I only want Jingyun to be safe.”

“He’s plenty safe. Even the day I’m gone, nothing will happen to him.”

“My lord…” Madam Zhuang’s voice choked.

Huayue listened with growing anxiety and worry, but given her station, she didn’t dare push the door open, only standing there staring helplessly.

But just as she stood there staring, a hand suddenly reached over her shoulder from behind and gently pushed the door open.

“Creak—” Light poured in from outside, stirring up faint dust.

The two people arguing inside fell silent at once, turning together to look toward the door. Madam Zhuang’s eyes weren’t good, and she could only make out two blurred figures walking in against the strong light, but General Li, looking up, could see clearly the look in Li Jingyun’s eyes as he gazed at him.

Cold, distant.

The exact same look he gave Madam Zhuang.

Strangely, Li Shoutian found himself smiling, studying this face that resembled his own by some six parts, an expression somewhere between joy and sorrow. “Truly my own flesh and blood.”

“Jingyun?” Madam Zhuang stood up at once at the sound, both hands reaching forward, feeling blindly. “Is that Jingyun?”

Huayue hurried over to support her, smiling as she said softly, “Madam, it’s the young master. He’s just returned from the spring hunt to pay his respects to you.”

Her eyes moistening, Madam Zhuang patted her hand gratefully, then turned her head, her voice trembling as she asked him, “Was the spring hunt fun?”

Reply to Mother, it was quite good.

— He always answered her this way, and Madam Zhuang had grown used to it, but she still wanted to hear her child’s voice, again and again.

“Reply to Mother.” Li Jingyun spoke, his voice even and calm. “The ice on the mountain melted late this year, so there wasn’t as much game as in years past, but plenty of people went, and it was fairly enjoyable. Your son brought back a fawn — it’s white, and Huayue is fond of it. She’d like to keep it in the courtyard, if Mother would permit it.”