The moist softness that touched the newly grown skin on his shoulder was like countless ants crawling over him. A flame ignited at the top of his head and spread downward.
Like spring bamboo shoots sprouting vigorously after a drenching spring rain, Yuan Ce instantly froze on Jiang Zhiyi’s couch.
But the person atop him remained completely unaware of his reaction, gently blowing on his long-healed scars while searching for the next wound on his sweat-dampened back that needed her comfort.
Yuan Ce stared straight at the bronze mirror not far away, where he could see her embracing his bare body. Unable to reach his back properly, she changed from sitting sideways to kneeling, her arms climbing his shoulders like vines. As she moved, her slender waist swayed beneath the thin spring garment, the unseen corners becoming surging waves in one’s imagination.
Yuan Ce watched this scene with increasingly heavy breathing, then suddenly raised his hand to grasp her waist.
He intended to stop her, but Jiang Zhiyi, ticklish at the waist, trembled with a light cry and fell sideways.
Yuan Ce let out a muffled groan, his entire being shaken violently as if swept away.
Sitting on Yuan Ce’s lap, Jiang Zhiyi recalled the sensation she’d just brushed against and lowered her head in a daze.
Just before her gaze could reach its target, Yuan Ce swiftly raised his hand to cover her eyes.
Jiang Zhiyi blinked, her tears now dry, the teardrops suspended on her long lashes brushing against his palm as she asked with a nasal voice: “What is that?”
Yuan Ce closed his eyes while breathing heavily, struggling to suppress the restlessness spreading throughout his body: “…Nothing.”
Jiang Zhiyi raised her hand to pry his away.
Yuan Ce held firm, not budging an inch.
“If it’s nothing, why cover my eyes?” Jiang Zhiyi frowned suspiciously, blindly reaching out her hand in the darkness.
Yuan Ce’s other hand grabbed both her wrists.
With her hands bound and vision blocked, Jiang Zhiyi guessed incredulously: “You don’t think I was planning to argue with you today and brought a stick for self-defense, do you?”
“…”
“Let’s say that’s it.”
If that’s what she should think, then it wasn’t, and it must be something more serious than her bringing a stick.
Seeing him so nervous for the first time, Jiang Zhiyi was dying of curiosity: “What is it? Let me see!”
“You can’t look,” Yuan Ce’s temple throbbed as he heard her coquettish tone, “and stop saying ‘let me’.”
“Why can’t I look? You’re making me unhappy.”
“…If you look, but won’t give me proper status, who would let you take advantage without commitment? You want to be like your sister, Princess Baojia.”
Jiang Zhiyi was startled. Why had Princess Baojia suddenly been brought up?
Taking advantage of her momentary confusion, Yuan Ce released her hands and eyes. Before she could look down, he lifted her away like picking up a kitten, then stood up in a flash and turned away, walking directly toward the inner room.
The sudden return of light dazzled Jiang Zhiyi with the bright gilded lamps. She squinted before climbing off the couch to chase after him, following him into the inner room, only to see the bathroom screen closed by his hand with a click, the bolt latched from within.
Jiang Zhiyi stood outside the door, stamping her foot. Just as she was about to question him, she suddenly realized where he had gone—
In her bathroom, her undergarments that she had changed out of for her evening bath were still hanging to dry!
“Y-y-you come out right now!” Jiang Zhiyi exclaimed with wide eyes.
On the other side of the door, Yuan Ce leaned his back against it, looking down before saying: “When you give me proper status, then I’ll let you see.”
“No, I won’t look, I won’t look!” Jiang Zhiyi anxiously knocked on the door. “Come out quickly, don’t look up…”
Yuan Ce looked up.
Jiang Zhiyi suddenly covered her mouth.
Silence fell on both sides of the door. It became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, even the light plop of a water droplet hitting the ground seemed to shake their eardrums.
“Did you—see it?” Jiang Zhiyi asked with a trembling voice.
In the dim candlelight of the bathroom, Yuan Ce stared at the light, smooth, goose-yellow inner garment with its fine straps hanging down, watching as a clear droplet of water hung precariously from the end of a strap, his Adam’s apple moving slightly: “…I saw it.”
Jiang Zhiyi’s cheeks burned red as she covered her eyes and turned away, like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
Suddenly, she heard Yuan Ce call her name in a hoarse voice from inside: “Jiang Zhiyi.”
“Mm…?”
“May I use your bathroom?”
Three hours later, Jiang Zhiyi had been attended by maids who cleaned her tear-stained face and changed her into nightclothes. She now lay on the bed listening to the rushing water sounds from the bathroom, restlessly turning over and over.
Didn’t he always bathe before coming to see her when returning from outside? Perhaps he had sweated a bit more, but this was taking too long.
She did value cleanliness, but if it was his sweat, she wasn’t that bothered by it. He didn’t need to wash as if shedding a layer of skin.
Anyway, what shouldn’t have been seen had already been seen. He could use it however and for however long he wanted.
But which inner garment had she worn today? What pattern was it? She couldn’t remember.
Never mind, all her inner garments were beautiful; none were embarrassing.
And what did he mean earlier about not giving him proper status? So what exactly was that thing?
Forget it. He said she was learning from Princess Baojia, so she’d write to Princess Baojia and ask.
Jiang Zhiyi’s mind wandered from one thought to another, growing drowsy as she waited. Finally, resting against the soft pillow, she closed her eyes.
When Yuan Ce emerged from the bathroom, he saw her hugging the quilt, her rosy face pressed against the soft pillow, lips slightly pursed, breathing evenly—she had fallen asleep waiting for him.
Half-dressed, letting the moisture evaporate, Yuan Ce looked down at himself, exhaled deeply, then put on his inner garment and outer robe, fastened his belt, and approached the bed. Kneeling on one knee beside it, he quietly gazed at her for a moment before gently pulling out the quilt she was hugging and spreading it open.
“Hm?” Jiang Zhiyi woke up groggily, looking up and rubbing her eyes. “You finally finished bathing, why did it take so long…”
Yuan Ce raised his hand, his thumb caressing her cheek as he said softly: “I was tidying the bathroom. I’m going back to my room now.”
“Going back?” Jiang Zhiyi awoke fully, staring at him. “If you’re not sleeping here, why use my bathroom?”
Yuan Ce was momentarily speechless.
“How could you be so ungrateful… My eyelids were drooping, waiting for you. Is this proper behavior?” Jiang Zhiyi mumbled with a pout.
“You want me to sleep with you?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Then no more touching and feeling?”
Jiang Zhiyi frowned: “Is my touching and feeling an inconvenience to you?”
Yuan Ce smoothed her furrowed brow with his knuckle: “I’m afraid I can’t hold back and might do you an injustice.”
Having lost her mother at a young age, with her uncle being the only elder who cherished her, and having only gotten engaged in the first month, her family likely hadn’t arranged for a matron to teach her about true relations between men and women. So when she was close to him, she had no sense of boundaries. Those romantic novels she read probably only went as far as the “kissing” she often mentioned.
Seeing Jiang Zhiyi touching her brow in confusion, Yuan Ce lifted the covers and got into bed, laying back with his arm under his head, staring at the ceiling as if self-hypnotizing: “Fine, touch as you please. I wouldn’t make a sound even if you cut me with a knife. I can endure anything.”
“Who cares to touch you?” Jiang Zhiyi coldly snorted, turning her back to him.
Yuan Ce turned his head to look at her angry back of the head. After a moment, he saw her turn halfway back: “How is it that I don’t treasure you, and now you don’t treasure me either?”
Yuan Ce mentally recited the academy lesson three times—”What distinguishes humans from beasts is but a hair’s breadth; common people let it go, gentlemen preserve it”—then pulled her into his arms.
Jiang Zhiyi lay comfortably with her head on his chest, closing her eyes contentedly.
In the quiet of the night, as her eyes closed, the thoughts that had been interrupted earlier drifted back into her mind. Somehow, Jiang Zhiyi suddenly recalled the people mentioned earlier this evening.
Gao Shi lying with an ashen face in the eastern wing room of the Shen mansion in Chang’an; Zhong Boyong and Zhuo Kuan competing with Yuan Ce in archery, horsemanship, and polo at the Tianchong Academy; the Marquis of Kangle with his permanent limp and cane; the Marquis of Xuande in prison, awaiting execution after autumn…
Face after face flashed before her eyes, each one grotesque, covered in mud, with wide, hollow, blood-red eyes like vengeful ghosts seeking lives.
In a blink, she found herself somewhere unknown. In the pitch-black night, they stood before her one by one, covered in blood, smiling at her: “Do you think this is over?”
“Those whose hands are stained with blood will one day die in a pool of blood themselves…”
Another blink, and she was on a smoky battlefield, with thousands of soldiers charging against each other. She saw Yuan Ce mounted high on his horse, wielding a long spear, leading his soldiers into battle. Suddenly, a rain of arrows fell, piercing his chest like shooting stars…
The scene changed again. She sat before the dressing table in Yaoguang Pavilion wearing a bright red wedding dress, listening to the lively suona music outside the window. She asked Jing Zhe and Gu Yu, strangely, why they hadn’t come to apply her makeup when the auspicious hour had arrived.
Jing Zhe and Gu Yu, with reddened eyes, told her: “Princess, have you forgotten? The Young General can no longer come to marry you.”
Jiang Zhiyi looked at the bronze mirror in shock, only then realizing what she wore was not a wedding dress but mourning attire. Listening again to the suona outside, it was not playing festive music but funeral dirges.
Her heart sank like falling into an icy cave. Jiang Zhiyi held onto the dressing table, her whole body trembling, tears suddenly streaming down like rain…
“Jiang Zhiyi?” Someone suddenly called her name once and then again.
Warm fingertips touched her wet eyes, pulling her up from the depths of despair.
Jiang Zhiyi forced her eyes open amid the heart-wrenching suffocation, and a familiar face appeared in her tear-blurred vision.
In her daze, as if not daring to believe it, Jiang Zhiyi blinked away the tears in her eyes and slowly raised her index finger, touching his face as gently as if fearing it might shatter. Her fingertips moved from his upswept eyebrows to his straight nose, then to his thin lips.
Yuan Ce held her in his arms, looking down at her trembling finger, allowing her to continue as he frowned and asked: “Had a nightmare?”
Jiang Zhiyi was startled, awakened by this question. She slowly turned her head to see the candle burning softly in the quiet bedroom, with the warm spring night outside the window.
There was no blood-stained curse, no battlefield, and certainly no mourning clothes.
She had had a nightmare.
She had only had a nightmare…
But the red in her dream suddenly turned to white, and that moment of despair felt as real as when she was six years old, hearing her father had returned, running joyfully out of the mansion, only to see her father’s coffin and fluttering white banners.
It also felt like that New Year’s Eve when she sat alone before a table of repeatedly warmed dishes. When she finally felt hungry and picked up a dumpling to eat, the matron suddenly came running in, saying her mother had taken poison and ended her life.
Her heart felt as if it had been violently squeezed and twisted. Jiang Zhiyi gasped for breath and embraced Yuan Ce with unprecedented force.
Yuan Ce felt his waist tighten as he lowered his head, about to ask what she had dreamed.
“Yuan Ce, are you still hiding something from me…” Jiang Zhiyi suddenly raised her head, speaking with a trembling voice.
“Your revenge—is it not yet complete?”