While Shen Yu tossed and turned, unable to sleep, Ji Cheng was equally awake, also racking her brains over Shen Zheng’s matter. She was utterly clueless, not knowing where to begin explaining. If the Old Madam were to inquire privately tomorrow morning, she would have nothing to say, and would undoubtedly be mistaken for making excuses or even be considered improper.
Ji Cheng listened to the night watchman’s calls outside, estimating that at this late hour, Shen Che should be in the upper courtyard. She took a deep breath, adjusted her collar in the mirror, and walked to the secret passage entrance. Unable to resist, she returned to the mirror to smooth her hair once more, then wondered if her lip color was too pale, thinking that a touch of rouge would look better in the lamplight.
Ji Cheng opened her rarely-used rose-tinted rouge, using a hairpin to dab a bit onto her fingertip before applying it to her lips.
However, after examining herself in the mirror, Ji Cheng found it too garish, fearing it would invite Shen Che’s mockery. Somewhat deflated, she used a handkerchief to wipe off the rouge, leaving only a faint red tint on her lips before stopping.
Satisfied with her lip color, Ji Cheng then noticed the few freckles on the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated. She took a bit of the newly made elm-seed face powder and dabbed it on her nose, but it still couldn’t conceal the freckles.
Ji Cheng sat dejectedly in front of the dressing table, covering her face with her hands.
What was the point of obsessing over a few freckles? Even if she were a celestial beauty descended from heaven, Shen Che probably wouldn’t spare her a second glance. Just thinking of Shen Che’s face, colder than ice, made Ji Cheng want to retreat.
Not going to see him allowed her to live in self-deception.
But her heart couldn’t help chasing after his shadow; even catching a glimpse of his robe’s hem would captivate her gaze. When had Ji Cheng ever been so timid? Even though she looked down on her behavior, her legs felt as if they were weighed down by sandbags, making it incredibly difficult to lift them.
Ji Cheng shuffled to the door, constantly telling herself that she must get clarity on Shen Zheng’s matter. If she didn’t understand, Shen Che surely did. When Shen Zheng looked at her so shocked, Shen Che’s expression had remained perfectly calm.
But what would he say to her?
Would he, like others, accuse her of impropriety? How would she explain herself then? With Ling Ziyun’s incident preceding this, Shen Che would certainly not believe her.
What if he didn’t believe her? Would she be bringing humiliation upon herself? That was secondary. What if this caused an irreparable rift between them?
Ji Cheng stopped in her tracks, finding it impossible to move forward. The more she thought, the more hesitant she became, fearing that saying too much would only make things worse.
Ji Cheng leaned against the wall, forcing herself not to dwell on these thoughts. After all, facing the situation head-on or avoiding it would result in the same outcome. Wouldn’t it be better to clarify things face-to-face? It would save her from endless speculation. Whether it led to separation or divorce, she didn’t care. The worst-case scenario would be retiring to a nunnery to live in seclusion.
But while her thoughts seemed resolute, actually taking action proved far more challenging.
Ji Cheng turned around, walking briskly back. If she truly had courage, she wouldn’t have chosen to exile herself on the grasslands back then. She knew that finding Shen Che at that time, explaining herself in person, and accepting whatever fate he decided would have been the wisest choice. But she had run away, far away, preferring to die silently rather than see his complete disappointment in her.
Ji Cheng couldn’t escape her mental prison. She knew she shouldn’t act this way, yet she couldn’t muster the courage. Because she knew that if she were in Shen Che’s position, she would never truly forgive herself.
Putting herself in his shoes, Ji Cheng had once been in Shen Che’s position.
Back when Lady Yun, to protect the Ji family and her brothers, had said she would send Ji Cheng to Zhu Jijun, wasn’t her action similar to what Ji Cheng had done now?
Although Ji Cheng still respected her mother and felt affection for her, and she understood Lady Yun’s choice, the fact that she was the one being abandoned made it impossible for Ji Cheng to maintain complete rationality. This led to many changes afterward. She harbored resentment, which diminished her care and attention, allowing Madam Xiang to take advantage.
As for her Brother Ziyun? When she needed help the most, although he had tried desperately to protect her, he ultimately succumbed to their mother’s hunger strike. This was why Ji Cheng could turn away without hesitation to seek marriage in the capital. It was also why Ji Cheng eventually yielded to Shen Che’s forced marriage. If there had been no resentment, if her feelings had remained as pure as in childhood, Shen Che would have had absolutely no chance.
That kind of pain from being abandoned might heal, but the scar would be permanent, and things could never return to how they were before.
Ji Cheng thought this way, so wouldn’t Shen Che think the same? She had even imagined that if she poured out everything to him, telling him that her heart held no one but him, not Ling Ziyun, Shen Che might magnanimously forgive her. But what then? He would forever harbor doubts about her.
Ji Cheng, who had always been able to compromise on everything, who had no requirements for her husband, who could even settle for Qi Zheng, was now stubbornly fixated on this issue. She would rather not have Shen Che’s understanding and forgiveness, which was utterly foolish and beyond remedy.
And the most frustrating thing in the world is knowing you’re being foolish, yet unable to stop yourself from continuing to be so.
Ji Cheng once again sat at her dressing table. She didn’t look at herself in the mirror; without looking, she knew how much she despised that face and its actions.
But some things couldn’t be avoided. Ji Cheng guessed that even if the Old Madam didn’t ask tomorrow, her Second Aunt would, and who knew what rumors were spreading outside?
Of course, Ji Cheng could go ask Shen Zheng directly, but if someone saw her, it would create new complications.
Deep down, Ji Cheng knew why she had to ask Shen Che. Whether he knew the truth of the matter or not, she didn’t want him to misunderstand anything about this issue involving his brother.
Ji Cheng rushed to the secret passage entrance of the upper courtyard in one breath, fearing that if she walked slowly, she would overthink and lose her courage.
Ji Cheng gently knocked on the copper ring of the secret door. There was no response. She listened closely but heard no movement. She pushed open the door and entered the rush mat-covered room, but Shen Che wasn’t there.
Ji Cheng couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or relieved. She walked to the small table where she usually reviewed account books. Several volumes of her written summaries were already piled there, the only thing she could quietly do for Shen Che now.
Among those summaries, under the topmost volume, was a strand of Ji Cheng’s hair. Ji Cheng sat down by the small table; the hair remained unmoved, meaning Shen Che had never looked at it.
Ji Cheng’s hand gently brushed the stack of books, tears welling up in her eyes. She tilted her head back, forcing the tears to recede. What right did she have to cry? All of this was her own choice, and she knew the consequences she had to bear.
Familiar footsteps sounded outside the courtyard. A flash of panic crossed Ji Cheng’s face, unsure how to face Shen Che. For a moment, Ji Cheng even thought about rushing back into the secret passage.
However, although Shen Che’s steps were light, they were not slow. He had already appeared at the doorway and seen Ji Cheng.
Ji Cheng stood up, keeping her head lowered as she moved aside. Shen Che passed by her, carrying the scent of alcohol. Ji Cheng’s nose twitched slightly.
“Do you need something?” Shen Che’s tone was flat, too flat to be addressing his wife, let alone a wife who had betrayed him.
So flat that Ji Cheng felt like a stranger.
Ji Cheng’s heart sank to the bottom of the sea. She had expected this, knowing that more terrifying than hatred was indifference—no longer caring at all.
Ji Cheng looked up at Shen Che, finding no trace of emotion on his face. She averted her gaze, unable to face him any longer, and cleared her throat before speaking, “Third Uncle, why did he… why did he look at me like that tonight?”
Shen Che countered, “You don’t know?”
Ji Cheng shook her head.
“If you don’t know, how would I know?” Shen Che said.
Ji Cheng looked back at Shen Che, remaining silent.
“Is there anything else?” Shen Che asked.
Ji Cheng shook her head.
“If not, I’m going to rest,” Shen Che said.
Ji Cheng’s face was already burning with shame. She had anticipated being humiliated, expecting Shen Che to mock her coldly, but instead, he was dismissing her as if shooing away a fly.
Ji Cheng moved her lips, wanting to say something more, but she no longer had the face to stay. Everything was futile anyway. After a moment of silence, she finally turned and walked back through the secret passage door.
Then Ji Cheng heard the “click” of an iron bolt locking the door on the other side.
At that moment, all the blood in Ji Cheng’s body rushed to her face, wishing she could die right there. Shame mingled with anger, though it wasn’t clear who this anger was directed at—mostly at herself.
Knowing this would be the outcome, she could finally let go of any hope.
With all the blood rushing to her face, her heart felt particularly cold, and her vision blurred. Ji Cheng felt short of breath, her heart twisting in pain. Unable to lift her legs, she quickly leaned against the wall, breathing rapidly, waiting for her eyes to regain focus.
At the peak of her shame and anger, Ji Cheng had raised her hands, wanting to push that door, to scream at it. But in the end, her hands only gently rested on the cold door before she slowly sank to the ground, her body leaning weaklessly against it.
She didn’t want to cry, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Ji Cheng knew Shen Che had keen ears, so she bit her lip hard, not making a sound.
She needed to regain some strength; only then could she continue moving forward.
Ji Cheng had underestimated her resilience. She thought she would never be able to stand up again, but when a person has no one to care for them, no one to love them when they must rely solely on themselves for the future, they quickly stand up and wipe away their tears.
Tomorrow? She would get through tomorrow.