It wasn’t strange at all for such a calling card to be thrown in the basket, but for some unknown reason, the steward had a sudden inspiration. He picked up this card along with several other discarded name cards and brought them to the main courtyard.

Sure enough, when he saw that peculiar calling card, his master’s expression changed.

“What kind of propriety is this?” He snorted coldly, yet didn’t throw the card away. He only held it in his fingers, turning it over repeatedly several times, then asked somewhat impatiently: “Just delivered?”

The steward thought for a moment: “Delivered about half an hour ago.”

Half an hour already?

Shen Qiyuan stood up, his tone slightly heavy: “Are the gatekeepers’ legs and feet not working properly?”

Frightened, his heart jumping violently, the steward couldn’t answer and only followed him outside in panic.

But after just two steps, Shen Qiyuan stopped again.

He closed his eyes, as if annoyed about something, then turned around and calmed down, saying indifferently: “If someone can’t even wait half an hour, they’re not sincere about wanting to see me. Go to the gate and see if the person is still there. If so, invite them in.”

The steward quickly agreed and hurried outside.

Ruyi had been waiting at the gate and was already unhappy when someone finally came out of the east side door to escort her in.

In a bad mood, she smiled without warmth, walking while asking: “Did your master style his hair in a Nine Heavens Flying Immortal knot today? Taking so much time.”

The steward was so shocked by this sentence that his mouth couldn’t close: “No, how could that be, you…”

You don’t want to live, daring to speak of that master this way.

He didn’t finish the latter half of his sentence, and this young lady didn’t seem to want to listen either, striding with heavy steps that made loud sounds.

Servants all around turned their heads to stare at her in amazement.

Sweat broke out on the steward’s forehead again, and he couldn’t help but whisper: “Our master likes quiet.”

Ruyi acted as if she hadn’t heard, stomping into his main courtyard. Without waiting for the steward to announce her, she kicked open the door to his study.

The steward and a group of servants all retreated, their faces turning pale.

However, when the door opened, Shen Qiyuan sat calmly behind his writing desk, not even lifting his eyes: “Is this your manner of visiting people?”

Ruyi snorted coldly and kicked the stool beside her as well: “Lord Shen puts on quite the airs.”

He knew she would be angry. Shen Qiyuan put down his book and instructed the steward outside: “Close the door. No need to serve here.”

He actually… didn’t get angry? Looking at those brows and eyes, there was even some hint of amusement?

The steward gasped, reluctantly went up to close the door, then quickly sent all the servants far away.

As soon as the door closed, Ruyi walked to his writing desk, braced herself, and sat on it, facing him as she hooked up his chin: “Let me see what cosmetics take half an hour to apply.”

Shen Qiyuan looked up, his face clean and clear, his eyes rippling like spring water.

She said irritably, “Being born handsome isn’t a reason to torment people like this. Do you think I can’t climb over these courtyard walls?”

She seemed to want to see him.

Shen Qiyuan’s heart, which had been awkward for two days, finally felt somewhat better.

He asked flatly: “What do you want with me?”

“Nothing much, just came to ask what you’ve been busy with.”

“Official duties.”

“Stop that. The officers at the villa said you’ve been on leave these past two days.”

She narrowed her eyes to examine him, her tongue licking her lips: “Could it be you’re too embarrassed to show your face at my place?”

Her moist lips were full and crystal bright. Shen Qiyuan looked away after just one glance: “You’re overthinking.”

Ruyi forced him to meet her gaze: “What are you avoiding?”

“Miss Liu.” He looked up helplessly. “Do you think the way men and women of this world interact is like how you and I are now?”

In the study, the autumn light was bright. This person wore a moon-white jacket over a concubine-colored satin long skirt, sitting on the desk and leaning down. One hand braced against the armrest of the grand preceptor’s chair he sat in, the other pinching his chin, so intimate that if he moved just slightly, he could kiss her lips.

This was improper conduct in Great Qian.

Yet Ruyi’s eyes held not a trace of constraint, open and honest, bright and beautiful, even somewhat meaningful: “Are you and I mortal men and women of this world?”

They were not, so nothing they did mattered.

She lowered her head and suddenly captured his lips and teeth.

Shen Qiyuan’s hands, resting on his knees, tightened slightly, then relaxed.

He looked at this person’s enchanting brows and eyes before him, momentarily somewhat dazed.

The room inexplicably grew somewhat hot. When Ruyi had kissed enough and was about to release him, her waist suddenly tightened, and she was lifted down from the desk and placed on his lap.

She raised an eyebrow, looking at this person’s dark, deep eyes, the corners of her mouth curving up: “If my lord were with me… would you be struck by lightning?”

“No,” he answered.

He answered.

Ruyi couldn’t help but swallow.

Demons had no concept of chastity. The affairs between men and women meant no more to her than eating and drinking. Having been in the mortal world so long, she should taste it too.

But what she didn’t understand was how Shen Qiyuan, a divine being, could also be so driven by desire.

“You and I, taking what we each need, not involving mortal status, not mentioning it to anyone beyond this door, no scheming or sneak attacks—do you agree?” he asked her.

Ruyi came to her senses, smiling as she answered: “I agree.”

He pursed his lips, said no more, and with a wave of his hand, black curtains fell around them.

Without thinking, Ruyi pounced on him.

The perfectly fine autumn sunny weather suddenly brought rain. Rainwater fell into the roof tiles with echoing sounds. In Lin’an City, willows drooped drowsily, their slender waists trembling, paddles entering the lake mud. Lotus flowers in the lake shyly spread open, then slowly closed again.

When Shen Qiyuan looked at the person on him with reddened eyes, she happened to be gathering her hair by her ear and lowering her head to whisper to him: “My lord’s appearance like this reminds me even more of an old acquaintance.”

The hands on her waist suddenly tightened. He pressed his lips into a line and asked hoarsely: “Did he win your favor, or do I win your favor more?”

Ruyi had just opened her mouth when her voice was blocked by him, the pressure growing heavier, as if he didn’t want to hear her answer at all.

This person was just so contradictory—detesting her yet willing to be intimate with her, seeming as if he would submit to her, yet resisting from soul to bone.

She sighed, lowering her head to lean by his ear, sending all those broken, wordless sounds into his ear.

The person beneath her paused, then went wild, rough and out of control as if wanting to embed her into his bones and blood.

Ruyi let out an “aiya,” laughing wantonly and wildly.

In the evening, when the clouds scattered and the rain ceased.

Shen Qiyuan had just finished changing clothes with a stern face when someone came up behind him, gathering his black hair and binding it up, securing it with a green jade hairpin.

He frowned and turned his head to see this person leaning against his shoulder, saying with satisfaction, “I especially chose this for you.”

The finest green jade, completely without a trace of impurity. The hairpin head was excellently carved, with a dragon carp so lifelike that even the scale patterns were visible.

Yet Shen Qiyuan’s expression grew even darker: “Did you learn these ways at Shuyi Wine House?”

“How could that be? This was originally meant to be given to my lord anyway.” She sat before him, reaching out to tie her dress sashes. “Who would have thought I’d also get to take advantage of my lord’s favor?”