What was meant by “misfortune never comes alone” and “when luck turns bad even drinking cold water chokes you”—Li Jingyun leaned against the courtyard wall and sighed, thinking today the heavens truly meant to finish him off. He could still have run, but the moment he glimpsed who stood before him, he lost even the desire to move his legs.

—As agreed, if discovered, this servant will be the first to bring people to seize young master.

A prophecy fulfilled.

Pursing his lips, Li Jingyun stretched out both hands toward Yin Huayue.

Amid the torchlight, Huayue was momentarily distracted, but only for an instant before she turned to meet the approaching guards.

“Steward Yin?” The guards stopped in their tracks upon seeing it was her. “It’s so late—why are you here?”

“Young master couldn’t sleep, so I accompanied him out for a walk.” Huayue glanced at Wangfu and sighed. “Under cover of night he hadn’t raised his guard yet, but your torches startled him into taking young master for an intruder.”

“…”

Li Jingyun looked up in astonishment.

The person before him held her back very straight; from behind, one could just make out her earlobes, flushed red.

“This… should we send someone to escort young master back?”

“No need. Continue your patrol—I’ll take young master back to the East Courtyard myself.”

“Yes.”

The guards dispersed, glancing back repeatedly. Huayue turned and reached her hand toward the man leaning in the shadows.

Her fingers were slender and soft, looking especially gentle in the moonlight.

Li Jingyun’s eyes were full of disbelief.

“Weren’t you going to bring people to arrest me?”

Huayue smiled. “Young master, so long as a rib chop that’s fallen on the table can still be picked up, it needn’t be thrown to the ground.”

“You dare call me a rib chop?”

“Awoo?” Wangfu tilted his head, thoroughly puzzled, thinking the man before him didn’t look anything like a fine, delicious rib chop no matter how he looked at it.

Huayue patted the dog’s head, then stepped past him and grabbed Li Jingyun’s arm, draping it over her own shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

Huayue supported him, pressing most of his weight against herself. “This servant will lead you back to the courtyard.”

Feeling somewhat strange inside, Li Jingyun reluctantly followed along, muttering under his breath, “What medicine did Steward Yin take by mistake.”

“Want to make this young master owe you a favor?”

“If you want something, just say so—I’m not a stingy person.”

“Why are we walking so slowly? My legs aren’t broken—are we dawdling until dawn?”

Huayue didn’t respond at all.

Once back in the East Courtyard, having shut the main room’s door, Huayue went to the cabinet for the medicine box and sat cross-legged by his bedside.

Li Jingyun’s expression turned quite the spectacle, cycling through every color.

“When did you notice?”

Huayue mixed the medicine powder, head lowered: “Back at the courtyard wall.”

He was a bit annoyed: “So you said nothing the whole way back, just waiting to watch me make a fool of myself?”

Huayue pressed her lips together, reaching out to push up his sleeve, but the moment she touched it, the man before her withdrew his hand, clutching it tightly.

She looked up: “Young master needn’t be shy.”

“Shy… what would I have to be shy about.”

Say what he might, his handsome face clearly showed embarrassed fury.

Too lazy to argue with him, Huayue pulled his hand over directly and rolled up his sleeve bit by bit, applying medicine as she spoke gently: “Serving young master is this servant’s duty, young master needn’t mind. It’s common enough for a man to get hurt while out and about—nothing to hide.”

As the words fell, Huayue caught sight of the wound on his arm—a knife wound, cut deep, the flesh peeled back.

Her heart skipped slightly, and she glanced at him.

A young master from a wealthy household shouldn’t have such a wound—yet the man before her seemed entirely used to it, not the least bit surprised, only glaring at her like a wounded beast, grinding his teeth as if considering eating her to recover his strength.

Rolling up his sleeve without changing expression, Huayue took the medicine and applied it around the wound.

Li Jingyun said impatiently, “Just apply the medicine, why are you blowing on it—I’m not a three-year-old afraid of pain.”

Though he said this, the fur bristling all over him gradually smoothed down bit by bit. He leaned sullenly against the soft pillow, and from the corner of his eye caught sight of Yin Huayue’s exposed nape as she bowed her head.

This person was born fair-skinned—even lit by candlelight into a pale orange, she seemed to carry no warmth.

Touching the jade pendant hanging from his bed curtain hook with his uninjured hand, the white jade cool against his fingers, Li Jingyun glanced sideways and, as if possessed, reached his hand toward her nape.

It was actually warm?

The warm sensation traveled from his fingertips straight to his heart. Li Jingyun paused, as if unable to process it, a thin mist rising in his dark pupils, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

The feeling was too strange—he hadn’t even worked out what was happening before he saw Yin Huayue’s face right in front of him.

Huayue, holding the medicine bottle, looked at him coldly.

Li Jingyun felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine.

He withdrew his hand without a trace, turned his head aside, and after a pause, urged irritably, “Still not bandaged?”

“This wound was cut by an arrowhead. Though there’s no fragment left inside, the flesh is badly torn—if bandaged carelessly it won’t do, tomorrow you’ll surely run a high fever.” Huayue took a needle and heated it over the candle flame. “Young master will have to bear with it a little.”

Li Jingyun’s eyes went wide: “What are you trying to do?”

“Just a couple of stitches.” Huayue threaded the needle skillfully. “Young master is an upstanding man who can withstand blade and sword—surely you’re not afraid of this little thing?”

“I’m not afraid of the needle, I’m afraid of you,” he frowned. “You’re no physician—what if you act recklessly and make a mistake, and I end up paying with my life because of you?”

Huayue shook her head: “This servant is well versed in this skill, young master may rest assured.”

As the words fell, without waiting for him to keep resisting, she turned and clamped his half-arm under her own, exposing the wound in the candlelight, and swiftly set the needle.

Li Jingyun sucked in a sharp breath, both furious and in pain. He wanted to cry out, but as a grown man, that would be humiliating. Yet if he bore it, it truly hurt terribly.

Yin Huayue, her back to him, had clearly decided to ignore his struggling. Li Jingyun grunted, bared his fangs, and bit down hard on her shoulder.

Her body stiffened for a moment, silently cursing him, but in just an instant she resumed her motion, continuing to stitch.

The fragrance from this person’s body filled his nose. As he bit down, Li Jingyun’s grip loosened, and he looked up uneasily—the person before him was focused entirely on his wound, brow slightly furrowed, pupils narrowed.

Her irises were actually a light brown—catching the lamplight, they looked exactly like a piece of amber.

He reached out to touch her again, but this time Li Jingyun caught himself in time, glaring at his own hand, wondering what was wrong with him, why he kept wanting to touch her.

If it were some drop-dead gorgeous beauty, fine—but the person before him was clearly just a sharp-fanged, sharp-tongued dog.

“Where did young master go tonight?” The dog opened its mouth and spoke human words.