Zhang Zhixu was startled by his blunt accusation and didn’t dare move.

But Chen Baoxiang remained perfectly calm—not even her heartbeat quickened.

“Oh, is that so?” She cupped her face in both hands, looking thoroughly astonished. “Isn’t this story about a faithless man? Is your uncle a faithless man?”

“Of course not!”

“So your uncle’s had two wives die on him?”

“…No, that hasn’t happened either.”

“Then what does this story have to do with your uncle.”

Chen Baoxiang was indignant, hands on her hips: “I know you look down on me. Last time you even had the steward drive me out of the Pei estate—well, who told me to have no name or standing? Leaving was what I deserved, I accepted it. But today you come charging at me looking for someone to blame, and that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.”

The edge in his bearing faltered slightly. Pei Ruheng murmured: “I had the steward drive you out?”

“Yes, that Cheng’an.” She looked utterly aggrieved. “He handed me money to send me off—dropped hints left and right that I was an outsider and shouldn’t overstay my welcome.”

Had it really been like that?

He straightened up, suddenly at a loss: “That wasn’t my intention.”

“If it wasn’t your intention, then whose was it? You’re the only one in the entire Pei estate I actually like.” Chen Baoxiang subtly pinched her own thigh, and tears came exactly when she needed them. “You just take advantage of the fact that I’m a foolish, single-minded person—and that’s why you bully me again and again.”

“That’s not—”

“Here, arrest me then.” She thrust both hands out in fury. “Arrest me and hand me over to the authorities—then you and I are even.”

This was getting more and more ridiculous.

Pei Ruheng clicked his tongue, grabbed her hands, and pressed them against the wall behind her.

The two of them drew suddenly close. Chen Baoxiang’s pupils contracted sharply.

Zhang Zhixu used every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from driving a kick straight into the man’s lower regions.

What kind of person does this in broad daylight—have you no shame.

And then—lowering his head to whisper in Chen Baoxiang’s ear like that, what, did he think it made his voice sound better?

Chen Baoxiang genuinely did think it sounded very good. Her ears turned red along with it, and ripples spread through her heart.

Zhang Zhixu: ……

In irritation, he shoved the person across from him.

“Ow.” Chen Baoxiang obligingly clutched her shoulder.

“Is the wound hurting?” Pei Ruheng immediately withdrew his hand.

In truth it was fine—Zhang Zhixu had only furrowed his brow for a moment before enduring it.

But Chen Baoxiang put on an expression as though she were dying of pain, eyes shimmering on the verge of tears: “It’s nothing. It’s not like anyone cares about me anyway.”

Pei Ruheng found himself at a complete loss for words. He let out a breath and steadied her.

“This doesn’t seem appropriate,” she muttered. “If someone sees us like this, they’ll think we’re betrothed.”

“Do you want to be betrothed to me?”

“Who wouldn’t want that.” She was briefly excited, but quickly wilted again. “It’s just a shame you don’t think I’m good enough.”

Someone was passing by across the way. Chen Baoxiang tried to free herself from his hold.

Pei Ruheng didn’t let go—he walked right past the person in full view, meeting the eyes of several onlookers with perfect composure, and said evenly: “Not necessarily.”

What?

Chen Baoxiang’s heart leapt wildly. It was as if a little figure had sprung to life inside her, spinning in circles: Great Immortal, did you hear what he just said?

Zhang Zhixu rolled his eyes: I’m not deaf.

He means he’d be willing to be betrothed to me, doesn’t he?

Maybe.

What do you mean maybe—it has to be, doesn’t it!

The corners of her mouth curved uncontrollably toward her ears: What auspicious dates are there later this year? What should I ask for as betrothal gifts? Do I have enough money to put together a dowry? What milk-name should we give the children?

Zhang Zhixu gave her cheek a vicious pinch.

“Ow,” she said with a smile still stretching across her face. “Not a dream.”

This woman occasionally showed real flashes of brilliance—how did she turn into such an infuriating simpleton the moment Pei Ruheng was involved.

He couldn’t be bothered to deal with her anymore, and let her chatter away with others—

Great Immortal!

Chen Baoxiang turned to call for him: I want to learn the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, and noble household etiquette!

Zhang Zhixu made a dismissive sound: Go to the Bureau of Music Education—pay them and they’ll teach you.

But isn’t the Great Immortal right here? Why waste that kind of money?

She laughed slyly: I just want to learn a little—enough to get me through the wedding ceremonies.

The man had only said two words to her, and she’d already planned the whole thing.

Zhang Zhixu was thoroughly fed up, gave her a few perfunctory responses, and went back to surveying his surroundings.

Pei Ruheng had been so thoroughly derailed by Chen Baoxiang’s antics that he had forgotten entirely to pursue the origin of the rumor—while the guests at the poetry gathering continued to pass the story from mouth to mouth.

The tale of the faithless man spread from the common people into the noble households, slowly fanning out like a brushfire.

Several days later, Xie Lanting came to Xun Yuan.

At the time, Chen Baoxiang was still pestering the Great Immortal for zither lessons. She applied herself with great earnestness, yet what she produced was genuinely painful to hear.

“How was that?” She finished playing and shook her hair ornament, fishing for praise.

Zhang Zhixu calmly removed the wads of paper he had stuffed into his ears: “Quite good. I have no other expectations of you as my student—just one: in the future, when you play publicly, please do not mention my name.”

Chen Baoxiang was astonished: “You have a name? What is it?”

Zhang Zhixu coughed and changed the subject: “I think someone has arrived.”

In the distance, Xie Lanting was walking toward her, chatting with Jiuquan as they came.

Seeing this woman again—and in Xun Yuan of all places—Xie Lanting was overcome with bitter indignation, slapped his thigh, and declared: “I just knew that whole ‘never touches women’ business was a complete pretense. All these years he’s been scheming against me, yet how did I never notice he was keeping his own secret treasure hidden away?”

“That’s not it.” Zhang Zhixu instinctively denied it.

Chen Baoxiang also quickly distanced herself: “Don’t talk nonsense. Fengqing doesn’t like women, does he—he only likes you.”

Xie Lanting: ???

He clutched his chest in horror: “What?”

Zhang Zhixu was speechless: What are you babbling about.

Isn’t that the case? That’s what people outside are saying—that Zhang Zhixu never touches women and is only close with Xie Lanting.

…Outside is outside. Outside people also say Xie Lanting is mature and steady with the bearing of a chancellor—does he look anything like that to you.

Chen Baoxiang followed his reasoning and looked at the man before her. Hmm—it seemed like he was about to cry.

Xie Lanting really was on the verge of tears. Brothers for over a decade, who had grown up sharing the same clothes—and now this person had suddenly developed feelings for him?

His lips were trembling: “You—this matter—Fengqing told you this?”

Chen Baoxiang laughed awkwardly: “No, I guessed it myself. Aren’t you two always together? He’s told me a lot about you.”

“You frightened me to death.” Xie Lanting sat down at the tea table and heaved a long sigh. “Miss, he and I are only friends. Please don’t misunderstand.”

What was there for her to misunderstand.

Chen Baoxiang gave an awkward laugh and changed the subject: “What has you charging in here with such urgency, sir?”

Getting to the matter at hand, Xie Lanting finally turned serious: “The story circulating in the streets lately—someone has carried it to His Majesty’s ears. The Holy One has commanded me to conduct a thorough investigation.”

Zhang Zhixu waved a hand: “Just muddle through it.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible this time.” Xie Lanting frowned. “Cheng Huaili personally went to the palace last night to file a complaint—made a dreadful scene in front of the Grand Princess and the others, putting His Majesty in a very awkward position. Now His Majesty is demanding I solve the case within seven days.”

Both Jiuquan and Zhang Zhixu felt their hearts clench, and immediately began mentally mapping out escape routes for Chen Baoxiang.

But Chen Baoxiang was entirely unruffled. Resting her cheek on her hand with a cheerful smile, she said: “His Majesty wants the sir to solve the case, so solve it, naturally. What parents who have lost a child wouldn’t want to know who the culprit is?”