Chapter 10

“Is my lady feeling any better?”

Pei Huaijin heard Chun Dai’s voice as soon as he stepped through the door.

Following the sound, he saw Chun Dai standing by the bedside, gently lifting her hand to touch Shen Zhiyi’s forehead.

“Sick? Why didn’t you close the door?”

Pei Huaijin’s voice still carried the chill of having just come in from outside, startling both the mistress and the servant.

“Young Master,” Chun Dai turned and bowed.

Pei Huaijin’s gaze passed over her and settled on Shen Zhiyi lying in bed.

“Why do you look so ill?”

Shen Zhiyi shook her head, her eyes caught by the plum blossom pastry in his hand. A sharp pain struck her heart as if cut by a blade.

Her voice hoarse and almost whispering, she murmured, “My lord really went to buy plum blossom pastries.”

The princess’s words were true: he had indeed cast aside his promise to her just because of a single remark from Qin Yin.

Pei Huaijin glanced at the pastry in his hand and gave a faint sound of acknowledgment. “I brought you some too, but I was delayed and came back late.”

“Then… about the medicine… my lord knows as well?”

Shen Zhiyi slowly lifted her reddened eyes to him, her throat tight.

Pei Huaijin placed the pastry on the desk, his narrowed eyes lifting slightly, his tone indifferent to the point of coldness.

“I know.”

“The Pei household is strict with rules. As the Young Master’s concubine, you should follow them more closely.”

His gaze swept over her from head to toe, resting on the pale face of the young woman as he lightly furrowed his brow.

“Shen Zhiyi, your mother did this for your own good. Don’t be so willful as to torment yourself to this state.”

With a sudden sound, Pei Huaijin’s words shattered the last shred of hope and illusion Shen Zhiyi clung to.

Today—today, he really did send the maid to call her over.

So Pei Huaijin knew everything…

Shen Zhiyi’s body swayed, and the color drained completely from her face.

Pei Huaijin noticed her obvious change in expression and was somewhat surprised.

When he returned just now, his mother told him that Shen had recently been unwell and often sought doctors outside the house, which was not proper, and those doctors’ skills were inferior to the ones employed by the Duke’s household.

She suggested they try to have Shen use the household doctors and adjust the prescriptions accordingly.

He hadn’t thought much of it, so why this strong reaction now?

But then again, Shen Zhiyi had been spoiled and willful since her time in the Shen household; everyone pampered her and catered to her whims. Perhaps his mother’s tone had been too harsh, making it hard for her to accept.

“Forget it. I’ll overlook what happened before. Just behave properly from now on.” Pei Huaijin took out a hair ribbon. “Here, this is for you.”

At last, he slightly softened his tone and added, “You’re delicate; this goose-yellow ribbon suits you well.”

This was Shen Zhiyi’s first proper birthday since entering the Duke’s household.

He had promised to celebrate with her but failed to do so—it was his fault. Being much older than her, a few kind words to soothe her wouldn’t hurt.

Shen Zhiyi’s eyes fell on the ribbon in the man’s hand.

Actually, the birthday gift Pei Huaijin sent yesterday had already been delivered: a Southern Red bracelet and ten thousand taels of stored gold from the Treasure Pavilion on Zhuque Street.

Today’s ribbon was likely a last-minute purchase upon his return.

She looked at it closely.

The man’s palm was broad, his fingers long and well-defined. The delicate goose-yellow ribbon lay quietly in his hand, seemingly so fragile that a slight pinch could snap it in two.

Shen Zhiyi thought of herself.

Had she once been like this ribbon, easily toyed with in his palm?

“Don’t like it?”

Pei Huaijin’s voice came from above, and Shen Zhiyi felt his gaze on her face, probing.

She pressed her lips together and took the ribbon, saying neither yes nor no, simply placing it aside.

Pei Huaijin noticed her action; his hand paused, his brows furrowing as he studied her face for a long moment.

In the past, she would have treasured even a paper with her name written on it given by him. Even after entering his household and becoming more reserved, the joy she showed upon receiving his gifts was unmistakable.

But now…

“Are you still upset because I am to marry Qin Yin?”

Pei Huaijin decided to speak plainly. If she was angry about that, he could try to comfort her.

After all, she was still young and had been at odds with Qin Yin before; it was understandable if she was overthinking things.

But Shen Zhiyi shook her head immediately.

Realizing perhaps her reaction was too strong, she lifted the corners of her mouth and smiled at herself.

“My lord and Second Miss Qin are a perfect match, and the Pei and Qin families are well matched as well. I hereby wish you both a harmonious and lasting union.”

“…”

Pei Huaijin lowered his eyelids, delicate veins faintly tracing his pale skin.

He stared at her, the veins on the back of his hand twitching slightly. After a long moment, he suddenly laughed.

“It’s best that you think so.”

Shen Zhiyi looked down, twisting her fingers silently.

From his perspective, she seemed so fragile that a gust of wind could blow her away.

Pei Huaijin fell silent for a moment, then exhaled deeply.

“How’s your foot?”

Shen Zhiyi’s heart sank. So he knew she had sprained her foot that day, which meant he must know everything that happened.

Yet he chose to protect Qin Yin, acting as if nothing had occurred, merely asking lightly about her foot.

“It’s fine.”

“Let me see.”

“No need.”

“…”

Pei Huaijin frowned, looking at her. The atmosphere grew tense.

Pei Huaijin had been the favored son since childhood, gifted in both letters and martial skills. As a scion of one of the capital’s top families and the emperor’s own nephew, he had always been the center of attention.

Others always fawned over him, catering to his every whim. When he spoke kindly to someone, that person would be envied for a long time.

Even his humility and gentleness stemmed from others’ reverence and respect. When had he ever coaxed someone so patiently?

Perhaps Shen Zhiyi’s detached mood sapped his will to continue.

He set down his teacup and rose, his tone growing colder.

“Rest well. I have other matters to attend to.”

Seeing him dressed in pure white, the faint scent of incense lingering on him, Shen Zhiyi knew without guessing where he was headed.

Today was that person’s death anniversary.

Shen Zhiyi felt numb. Even knowing where he was going, she was not as sorrowful as she had expected.

She nodded. “Alright.”

Then she rose and bowed properly.

“I respectfully see you off, my lord.”

Pei Huaijin’s footsteps faltered but he did not look back. His tall, straight figure soon vanished into the vast snowy night.

Once he left, the oppressive aura unique to men dissipated instantly.

Shen Zhiyi slumped weakly onto the bed, clutching her chest as she coughed softly.

Chun Dai hurried in, placing a copper basin down to help her ease her breath, her heart aching.

“The Young Master is too much! Knowing today is your birthday, and yet…”

Shen Zhiyi shook her head, signaling her not to say more.

The Pei household was full of prying eyes. If she disappeared in the future with no one to protect them, Chun Dai’s loose tongue could cause great trouble.

Chun Dai ceased her words and helped Shen Zhiyi sit properly, focusing on assisting her with washing up.

Even now, her heart still trembled recalling the earlier incident. Had she not noticed something was wrong and intervened, her mistress might have drowned.

After Shen Zhiyi went to bed, she developed a mild fever in the latter half of the night.

While keeping watch, Xia He heard her restless tossing and turning. Upon checking, she found Shen Zhiyi’s cheeks flushed and her forehead burning hot.

Startled, Xia He rushed to fetch the doctor, but Shen Zhiyi stopped her firmly.

“Have the medicine Dr. Zhou prescribed brewed. I’ll be fine once I take it.”

Shen Zhiyi knew this was a sickness of the heart; the events of the day had deeply wounded her.

Xia He hesitated but followed her instructions, brewing the medicine and tending to her as she took it.

After a while, the fever subsided.

But the next day, the fever returned, low-grade but persistent, sapping her spirit.

This cycle repeated until the third night when Shen Zhiyi was finally well enough to get out of bed.

Since the night she parted unhappily with Pei Huaijin, he seemed to have left the mansion. Chun Dai said he had not returned in these days.

Last night was the fifteenth day; by custom, he would have come to Haitang Garden. Yet this time, Shen Zhiyi secretly felt relieved he did not.

“My lady…”

That evening, after dinner, Shen Zhiyi leaned against the couch reading a book when Chun Dai entered hesitantly.

Shen Zhiyi glanced at her, eyes smiling gently.

“Have you done something you’re ashamed of?”

Chun Dai’s expression grew more embarrassed. She glanced at her a few times, then nervously extended her hands from behind her back.

“The bloodstains on the kneepads probably won’t come out. I’m not skilled enough. Perhaps it’s better to send them out…”

“No need.”

Shen Zhiyi saw the indigo kneepads in her hands and pressed her lips, voice low.

“Cut them up and throw them away.”

“But…”

But they were the result of her lady’s tireless effort.

Never mind the painstaking days spent sewing the kneepads, even before that, her lady had embroidered countless handkerchiefs to earn the fabric.

Shen Zhiyi seemed unwilling to discuss it further, pursing her lips and turning away, her meaning clear without words.

Chun Dai looked at the finely made kneepads, hesitated, then went to a nearby shelf to find silver scissors in a basket.

—

The night was dark and windy. The biting north wind penetrated the thick door curtains of the Dali Temple office, rustling the documents on the desk.

Pei Huaijin set down his last document, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice hoarse with fatigue.

“That will be all for today. Thank you all for your hard work.”

No one dared to accept his thanks and instead waved their hands in dismissal.

Deputy Minister Tang Yu placed the organized books back on the shelf and glanced at the gathered men before stepping forward.

“Thanks to Your Excellency’s guidance these past days, we managed to resolve this case swiftly under your lead and report to His Majesty in time. Tonight, we’ve arranged a banquet at the Drunken Immortal Tavern. Would Your Excellency deign to join us for a few drinks?”

Pei Huaijin’s lips curved faintly.

“You all go ahead. I won’t be joining. Today’s responsibility rests with me.”

The group exchanged glances, thanked him aloud, and left the office cheerfully.

The once lively office fell silent.

Pei Huaijin washed his hands and looked at several desks in the corner.

On a round zitan wood table lay a slender gold-inlaid lacquer box. He approached, opened it, revealing an exquisite gilded crescent bow.

The bow was crafted from fine zishan wood, its surface smooth as jade, faintly gleaming under candlelight. It was adorned with carved gold decorations, two sapphire gems shining brilliantly.

His fingers hovered over the box, then gently traced the bow’s body. His long black lashes drooped, concealing the depth of his emotions.

After a long moment, he withdrew his gaze, closed the wooden box, and carried it out of the room.

Outside on Qingyun Street, thick snow had piled up. Across the street, a black ebony carriage stood by the wall, dusted with thin snow. A dim yellow glow from inside was the only light in the snowy night.

Soon, the carriage curtain was lifted, and Xie Changyu snapped his fingers at him.

“What are you standing there for? Hurry up and get in!”

Pei Huaijin lowered his eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips as he stepped into the carriage.

“Here’s what you asked for.”

He handed the wooden box to Xie Changyu.

“Thanks!”

Xie Changyu took it without ceremony, opening it in front of him and admiring it.

“That’s a fine bow, Pei Er—” He patted Pei Huaijin on the shoulder. “I told you, you could get your hands on good things!”

Pei Huaijin frowned in disgust and brushed his shoulder as if to wipe off dirt.

Xie Changyu clicked his tongue and casually said, “Have you been staying at the office these past days?”

“What do you want to ask?” Pei Huaijin’s voice was faint, tinged with displeasure.

Xie Changyu raised an eyebrow and, no longer hiding anything, asked directly.

“Aren’t you leaving for Yongzhou tomorrow? It’s a dangerous trip. What if those you take with you risk their lives? Are you really planning to bring Shen San along?”

Feng Pin had instructed that Yongzhou was their stronghold.

Yongzhou bordered Pingjiang, and the money they acquired there was laundered in the underground gambling dens of Yongzhou.

The Crown Prince had sent Pei Huaijin to investigate.

This time, Pei Huaijin planned to go disguised as a wealthy merchant from Yangzhou, which naturally required a charming wife and concubines accompanying him.

Everyone assumed he would take Qin Yin because of her lively nature, social grace, and the fact she was his future wife. Even if it was a sham marriage, no one would mind.

But unexpectedly, Pei Huaijin decided to bring Shen Zhiyi.

Xie Changyu crossed his arms, leaning against the carriage wall, and warned.

“What kind of temperament does Shen San have? What if something happens and she can’t protect herself?”

Seeing Pei Huaijin silent, he hissed and leaned closer, serious.

“Pei Er, are you planning to protect Qin Yin by taking Shen San along because you know the danger and want Shen San to take the fall?”

Pei Huaijin’s fingers twitched slightly on the table. He glanced sideways at him, his eyes deep and grave.

“Xie Changyu, when we left the palace, I made it clear: affairs of the Pei household do not require outsiders’ interference.”

Xie Changyu looked at him, his smile fading, corners of his lips twitching.

“On that day, I’m sure I also made some things clear to you, Lord Pei—”

The carriage stopped. Xie Changyu tapped the table.

“You have arrived.”