Crimson blood fell into the tub, spreading and dissolving like ink dropped in water.

Chen Baoxiang tilted her head back, and after a long moment spoke in a daze: “So bathing in winter really does cause internal heat to rise. No wonder there was a cup of tea set out beside here.”

With that, she drank in one gulp the tea that had been prepared for guests to rinse their mouths with, then pinched a silk ribbon that had been set out for tying up hair and stuffed it into her nostril.

Not for nothing was this the premium Tian-character room — everything had been prepared with impeccable foresight.

She silently praised herself for knowing her way around, then raised the now-empty teacup with a delicate orchid-finger grip, putting on airs: “Zhaixing Tower — nothing so very special, really~”

After that she broke into a heh-heh-heh of laughter, waving her hands and kicking her feet while still sitting in the tub.

Zhang Zhixu hugged his knees in the corner of her body, on one hand feeling that his great undertaking was not yet complete and he truly could not afford to speak lightly of giving up — and on the other hand feeling that he was absolutely done for and wanted to perish together with her right here and now.

He had kept himself pure and proper for over ten years — not only had he never been intimate with a woman, he had barely exchanged more than a handful of words with one.

And yet now, without so much as a word of warning, she went ahead and took her bath just like that?

And — and she thought that not using every last bit of the bath powder would be a waste, and intended to scrub herself a second time!

He worked hard to convince himself that this was all just a dream, worked hard to retreat and not let himself feel anything of her —

All for nothing.

Fine, soft, warm, saturated with moisture — he had experienced every inch of her, inside and out.

Zhang Zhixu thought in despair: perhaps the tribulation fate had written for him lay precisely here, with Chen Baoxiang. Even having escaped death by the barest chance, he was still forced to transgress all propriety and sink to depravity.

“Great Immortal, Great Immortal.” Chen Baoxiang had finally finished washing, and was holding up the clothes Lin Guilan had sent over, pressing them against herself to check the fit. As she did, she asked him: “Am I not the most beautiful woman in the world?”

People always develop unnecessary confidence in their own appearance after a bath.

Zhang Zhixu did not answer her. He only said listlessly: “Earlier, while you were locked up in that cell, you kept muttering to yourself — something about a wish you hadn’t fulfilled yet.”

“Oh, right.” Chen Baoxiang remembered too. “Great Immortal, you said back then — as long as I followed your instructions, you would make sure I soared to the top.”

“Yes. If you want to marry into a great family, I do have a way.”

“No matter how great the family?”

“Yes.” He seemed to make up his mind about something, and balled his hand into a fist as he said, “Even one as powerful as the Zhang Family, with influence over the entire court —”

“I like the Pei Family of Pingxuan!” Chen Baoxiang broke in, bright with excitement.

Zhang Zhixu froze, and slowly raised his eyes to look at the reflection in the mirror.

Chen Baoxiang seemed to be thinking of something extraordinarily wonderful; a blush gradually rose on her cheeks, while her eyes shimmered with soft light.

“The Pei Family of Pingxuan — Pei Ruheng.” She said. “I have admired him for a long time.”

Pei Ruheng — nephew of Cheng Huaili, widely known in Shangjing by the nickname “Little Wei Jie.” A man of few words; when he did not speak, he spoke not — but once he opened his mouth, he never spared anyone’s feelings. He had passed the imperial examinations to become a jinshi, yet to this day had never taken up an official post.

Zhang Zhixu was genuinely surprised: “You actually know him?”

“What’s strange about a beautiful young lady such as myself knowing a couple of prominent young gentlemen?” she said. “And not only do I know him — he seems to have a certain interest in me as well.”

“How so?”

Chen Baoxiang cupped her face in her hands, blinking with bashful delight, and began to recall.

……

Dusk, fading light, mist rising all around. Pei Ruheng sat at the banquet table, and not a soul around him dared approach to make conversation. She had happened to pass by — and he pulled her right into his arms.

She caught the scent of bookish fragrance on him, and felt his firm and strong chest.

His eyes grew hazy; he leaned his head down toward her and asked her name.

……

“Wait.” The mist was waved aside with a sweep of his hand. Zhang Zhixu asked in genuine bewilderment: “In broad daylight, in full public view — he dared do that?”

“Don’t interrupt.” Chen Baoxiang said unhappily. “This is the most beautiful day of my entire life.”

She truly had never had many good days in her life.

Zhang Zhixu shook his head, but a thought occurred to him, and he spoke: “Since you are so intent on this, I can actually help you.”

“Truly?” Chen Baoxiang grew excited. “Then what should I do right now?”

“Sleep first.”

“Ah — isn’t this moving a little fast? Going straight to sleeping together, what if Pei darling doesn’t want to —”

“……” Zhang Zhixu laughed despite himself. “I said, you should go to sleep right now.”

“Oh.”

Chen Baoxiang immediately came back to her senses, dried her hair, and toppled onto the bed.

The sky outside had already begun to show the pale grey-white before dawn. She truly was exhausted — the moment her face touched the pillow, she was asleep.

He settled his mind, tucked the blanket in properly, and intended to have a good dream himself.

— I have admired him for a long time.

The excited voice echoed through his mind.

Zhang Zhixu’s eyes — Chen Baoxiang’s eyes, now threaded with red — snapped open at once.

What does it feel like to like someone?

He lay staring at the canopy overhead, brow furrowed in thought — who could say? He didn’t even like himself; how could he possibly like someone else?

And yet now, here inside Chen Baoxiang’s body, he felt a strange sensation — something sour and bitter — and his heart was beating in an odd, irregular way, and his face was burning terribly hot.

What a complete mess. And it wasn’t even as quick and pleasant as the happiness she felt when she saw gold and silver.

Zhang Zhixu was deeply vexed. He turned onto his left side, then turned back onto his right.

The pale grey-white at the edge of the sky gradually brightened into the full blaze of midday.

Chen Baoxiang opened her eyes drowsily, yawning as she muttered: “Strange — I went to bed early enough last night. Why do I feel more worn out than if I’d been up all night stealing cattle?”

“Who knows,” the instigator said, somewhat guiltily. “Perhaps you’re not used to other people’s beds.”

“I’m not as finicky as that famously fussy young master of the Zhang Family they talk about — the one who has his own bed carted along whenever he travels, and can’t sleep without it.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head.

The famously finicky young master choked on his words and could not find a single thing to say back.

Chen Baoxiang sat down at the dressing table and became excited once again: “Great Immortal, look — everything she sent over is genuine Wanbao Tower merchandise!”

Zhang Zhixu looked at the hairpins and accessories and was puzzled: “Are there fake versions of such things?”

Chen Baoxiang guiltily glanced sideways at her own discarded pile.

Zhang Zhixu slanted his eyes toward it. He wasn’t looking to begin with, but the moment he looked, he couldn’t help but laugh despite his irritation: “You bought fakes?”

Seen individually they were not entirely obvious, but set beside the real things, her gold hairpins and ornamental combs were wrong in their make — and even their color was off.

“I have no money,” she muttered. “Wanbao Tower’s hairpins start at over ten taels. Why on earth would I spend that when I can get imitations for a few hundred coins?”

“If you don’t have any, you simply don’t wear them.”

“That won’t do at all — in this world, people judge you by the quality of your clothes first and your person second. If I dress plainly, how could I ever mingle with them?”

Zhang Zhixu pressed his hand to his temples and closed his eyes.

He had always most despised those who flattered the powerful and craved vanity — and yet somehow he had stumbled upon the finest example of the type.

“You’re hungry,” he reminded her.

Chen Baoxiang put on her last ornamental flower pin and gazed at her reflection in the mirror with great satisfaction: “A person of my kind of captivating beauty is no ordinary mortal — I can only be a celestial fairy. And celestial fairies do not need to eat.”

“Is it that you’ve run out of money?” he said, ruthlessly exposing the truth.

Chen Baoxiang’s face fell, and she deflated, poking listlessly at the things on the table: “I saved up for half a year — all told I had two thousand coins. And then it was learning to dance here and buying outfits there, and every last one of them is long gone.”

“Then pawn one of the Wanbao Tower accessories to buy food.”

“Absolutely not.” She immediately protectively covered the things on her head. “I only have one step ornament and two flower pins to begin with — it’s already embarrassingly little. Losing one more would be unseemly.”

“But Great Immortal, don’t worry — I have a way to fill my stomach.”