Chapter 18

With a splash, the surface of the water instantly settled back into stillness.

Everyone on the boat ceased their fighting and stared at one another in disbelief.

None had expected such an outcome.

Time seemed to freeze; even the metallic scent of blood in the wind gradually faded. The surroundings were so calm it was as if Zhi Yi Shen had never entered their world.

Jin Huai Pei’s hand veins bulged, his eyes deep and turbulent like a fierce storm. A chilling aura radiated from him.

Under everyone’s gaze, ignoring Su An’s attempt to stop him, he leapt into the lake after her.

Zhi Yi Shen had never known how to swim since childhood!

If he hadn’t been mistaken, the moment she jumped into the water with the kidnapper, there was a gleam of fatal resolve in her eyes.

Jin Huai Pei found his emotions indescribable. The instant Zhi Yi Shen fell into the water, his heart felt as if it had been clenched tightly by an unseen hand.

Beneath the lake, all was pitch black, surrounded only by the empty water, as though submerged in nothingness—void of everything.

In the undulating darkness, a panic unlike any he had felt before rose within him.

After a moment, arrows pierced through the water’s surface, but Jin Huai Pei continued to dive deeper.

Just as the darkness deepened and the water chilled to the bone, a pale figure suddenly appeared before his eyes.

The girl’s eyes were tightly shut, her face deathly pale, lifelessly sinking toward the lakebed—a ghostly white that was haunting in the dark.

Jin Huai Pei halted his strokes abruptly, staring at her for a moment. Deep ripples stirred in his dark, intense eyes.

His jaw tensed, then abruptly he reached out, pulling her into his embrace. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her lips without hesitation.

Her lips were icy cold. Jin Huai Pei frowned, exhaling all his breath into her mouth, holding her tightly as he swam toward the surface nearby.

—

Zhi Yi Shen found herself enveloped in utter darkness.

She heard no sound, saw nothing, only the beating of her own heart—thump, thump—like the tapping of a night watchman’s mallet in the quiet night.

She felt her body was light, so light that she seemed to be floating midair.

This unprecedented tranquility made her want to drift into a deep sleep.

Just as drowsiness was about to claim her, sharp pain suddenly stabbed her fingertips—once, twice, thrice.

The piercing pain stirred irritation within her, and she felt herself falling from midair.

In moments, the world began to tremble violently; a streak of white light tore through the darkness, growing brighter and brighter, accompanied by the increasing sound of commotion around her.

Suddenly, a woman’s voice reached her ears, and the dazzling white light blinded her.

“She’s awake! The young lady is awake!”

It was a stranger’s voice.

Zhi Yi Shen furrowed her brows in confusion, slowly opening her eyes. As they adjusted to the bright light, she finally discerned her surroundings.

She was lying on a bed in an austere room with low beams; even the bed curtains were patched burlap.

She moved her stiff neck and glanced toward the bedside.

A woman in her forties smiled kindly at her, holding a bloodied silver needle—surely the source of the fingertip pain.

Beside her stood Su An, looking anxious.

Seeing Zhi Yi Shen awake, Su An gave a faint smile, though his expression still held traces of fear.

Finally, Zhi Yi Shen’s gaze fell upon the man sitting upright on a stool by the bed. His hands rested on his knees, his face pale.

Noticing her look, he slightly relaxed his furrowed brow.

“You’re awake. Are you feeling any discomfort?”

His voice was hoarse and grave.

Zhi Yi Shen averted her eyes, shaking her head. She buried half her face into the quilt, remaining silent.

The woman at the bedside glanced among them and spoke suddenly:

“Since the young lady has awakened, there’s no danger to her life. Master Li, let my husband tend to the wound on your back.”

After she spoke, Jin Huai Pei did not refuse. He gave Zhi Yi Shen a deep look, then stood:

“Very well, thank you.”

The woman waved off the thanks and led Jin Huai Pei outside.

Once the small room was completely silent, Zhi Yi Shen emerged from the quilt and exhaled deeply.

Su An cleared his throat softly:

“Shall I fetch some water for the young lady?”

Her mouth was indeed dry and parched, so she nodded and thanked him.

Su An returned with the water, helping her sit up and handing her the cup.

Zhi Yi Shen cupped the warm water and drank. The soothing heat traveled down her throat to her stomach, gradually warming her body.

She recalled what had happened after she fell into the water.

She had held onto a death wish, dragging the kidnapper with her as she plunged.

She knew the man was a strong swimmer; otherwise, he wouldn’t have stayed submerged so long. So, as soon as they hit the water, she clung tightly to his legs, pulling them downward.

She didn't know how much time passed, but just before losing consciousness, she heard a splash and saw a water-blue shadow swim down from above.

At that moment, determined to die, she did not want to be saved—she would rather sink deeper.

Then, she completely lost consciousness.

Su An noticed her zoning out and coughed deliberately.

When Zhi Yi Shen looked over, Su An rubbed his nose and said:

“Did you know that when the young master dove in to save you, he was struck by an arrow in the back?”

Seeing no change in her expression, he continued:

“That arrow hit right in the back. The man tending to him said that if the arrow had penetrated just an inch deeper, it would have pierced his heart. Even the greatest healer couldn’t have saved him then.”

Su An’s voice was low and grave.

Zhi Yi Shen lowered her gaze, tracing the rim of the cup. The cheap porcelain was thin, burning her delicate fingertips a faint red.

The steam rising from the cup dispersed into the air as a mist, clinging like tiny pearls to her lashes, obscuring the emotions in her eyes.

After a long while, she gently set the cup down and sighed softly:

“If the young master is injured, shouldn’t you be attending to him?”

Su An was taken aback:

“You won’t go?”

Zhi Yi Shen shook her head.

Then Su An said:

“Actually, last night the young master had everything carefully planned. He deliberately fired the arrow to distract the kidnappers, so he wouldn’t really harm you…”

“I know.”

She cut him off, “I know the young master is thoughtful and has his plans. I…”

Her lashes fluttered as she wrapped her arms around her knees, voice dropping lower, “I understand everything.”

In truth, when the cold lake water pierced her to the bone last night, she had already come to realize these things.

But in that moment, she felt exhausted—too tired to think, too weary to chase after things that were never hers.

Zhi Yi Shen thought: if it had been Qin Yin instead last night, surely he wouldn’t have risked her life.

After Su An left, Zhi Yi Shen drank some water and took a few spoonfuls of porridge before drifting back to sleep.

In the evening, she was woken by the barking of dogs in the courtyard.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up just as someone knocked twice on the door.

A little girl with twin buns poked her head inside.

“What a beautiful big sister!”

The girl, about seven or eight years old, was unafraid and brightened upon seeing Zhi Yi Shen. She hurried to the bedside, scrutinizing her carefully.

Zhi Yi Shen was taken aback; the once outgoing third Miss of the Shen family felt a bit shy under the little girl’s gaze.

Suddenly, she felt the corner of her quilt tugged and moving. Looking down, she saw a small white dog pulling at the blanket.

The dog was barely larger than a palm, pure white except for its four small black paws. Spotting her looking, the dog rolled its eyes, released the blanket, and howled twice, as if protesting.

Zhi Yi Shen couldn’t help but chuckle.

Though only sixteen, she was cheered by the little dog’s antics.

“Can I… pet it?”

Without hesitation, the little girl scooped up the dog and placed it in Zhi Yi Shen’s arms.

The dog, once defiant, instantly changed demeanor, curling in her lap and softly whining, licking her affectionately.

“Ah!”

Zhi Yi Shen’s previously heavy mood lightened considerably.

She had once had a dog of her own, but it had died suddenly, leaving her heartbroken and ill for a long time.

After she recovered, her family forbade her from keeping dogs again, fearing more heartbreak.

Gently stroking the dog, the little girl suddenly slapped her head.

“Oh, my memory! My mother sent me to call you for dinner—I nearly forgot!”

She grabbed Zhi Yi Shen from the bed without giving her a chance to refuse, hurriedly pulling her along.

“Hurry, hurry! Grandma made fish soup today—it’s delicious!”

When they reached the main room, everyone was already seated at the table.

All eyes turned toward them.

Zhi Yi Shen lowered her head, scratching the dog’s neck, deliberately avoiding the heavy gaze across from her.

The little girl ran to sit beside her mother.

The only empty seat was next to Jin Huai Pei.

Zhi Yi Shen braced herself and sat down, eyes fixed on the dishes before her.

“The dog is adorable,” Jin Huai Pei said softly beside her ear.

Zhi Yi Shen lowered her lashes, offering no reply.

The little girl, thinking he was praising her, beamed and immediately launched into chatter about the dog and its parents.

A young woman in her mid-twenties sitting nearby suddenly smacked the girl’s leg under the table, glancing at Jin Huai Pei. Seeing him smile back, she blushed and looked away.

Zhi Yi Shen and Jin Huai Pei had been taught from childhood to eat silently and speak little.

But this family was more lively, the meal full of warm chatter.

It was then Zhi Yi Shen learned they were in a small village called Chen Village, near Yongzhou.

Most villagers made a living gathering herbs; this family was no exception.

The man, named Chen Shun, was a healer; the woman, known only as Mrs. Chen, was called “Chen Shun’s wife” by the villagers.

Their son had died years ago in an accident while foraging herbs, leaving behind a wife and a young daughter named Cui Ya.

Cui Ya’s mother, the young woman, was called Chen Qiu Shuang.

Jin Huai Pei explained to them that he and his wife had come from the capital to Yongzhou to collect herbs, but had been chased by enemies and so fled here.

This simple family trusted him without suspicion.

They had never left their small mountain village; meeting wealthy merchants from the capital was a rare curiosity.

—

After dinner, everyone gathered around Jin Huai Pei, asking questions.

Zhi Yi Shen intended to return to her room, but the family, fearing she’d be lonely, insisted she stay.

She sat nearby, holding the dog.

Though she didn’t glance at Jin Huai Pei, she listened as he skillfully answered their questions, patiently recounting his "business" experiences as if he had truly lived them, earning her admiration.

As the villagers avoided using oil lamps, they went to bed soon after dark.

After a while, Chen Shun tapped his pipe on the floor and urged everyone to wash and sleep.

Zhi Yi Shen followed Jin Huai Pei back to the small room from the afternoon.

Once inside, she hesitated at the doorway.

The room was cramped, the bed narrow.

Jin Huai Pei’s noble status was evident—his jade belt alone was worth more than the entire room. Tall and long-legged, his presence made the space feel even more confined, overwhelming with a strong sense of pressure.

Previously, even sharing a hotel bed with him had been easy—those beds were spacious enough for three.

But now… she had to squeeze onto a bed barely larger than a single.

She nervously twisted her skirt, her heart unsettled.

Only a stub of candle burned, casting dim light that barely reached the corners. The wooden door and window let in a slight breeze, flickering shadows creating an ambiguous atmosphere.

They stood silently for a moment before Jin Huai Pei spoke:

“Let’s rest. You sleep inside.”

“I-I’ll sleep with Cui Ya’s mother…”

“If you go there now, it might arouse suspicion.”

His gaze swept over her face, darker than before. “What are you afraid of?”

Her fingers twisted behind her back, about to reply when a knock came at the door.

She silently breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to open it.

It was Mrs. Chen.

“Oh, I thought you were already asleep. I just remembered and brought these for you.”

She held a wooden tray containing gauze, silver scissors, ointment, and a small box.

“After dinner, we got caught up talking, and my husband forgot to change Master Li’s dressing. I’ll trouble the lady to help him—it’s simple, nothing difficult.”

She handed the tray to Zhi Yi Shen and smiled, not waiting for refusal before turning away.

“…”

Zhi Yi Shen held the tray at the door like a hot potato.

After a long moment, unable to bear the gaze from behind, she reluctantly placed it on the table.

“Do you want me to change it for you?” she asked in a barely audible voice.

Jin Huai Pei said nothing, his deep eyes fixed on her, expression unreadable.

Without a clear answer, she looked down and feigned ignorance, fiddling unconsciously with the items.

The gauze was coarse, the silver scissors dull. As for the small box…

Mrs. Chen hadn’t explained its contents. Curiosity getting the better of her, Zhi Yi Shen opened it.

Inside lay a transparent, strange-looking object, resembling sheep intestine.

Forgetting her embarrassment, she reached out to touch it.

Suddenly, a hand snatched it away with a sharp clap, tucking it into a sleeve.

Zhi Yi Shen turned, frowning at him.

He covered his mouth and coughed lightly, diverting his gaze.

“That’s not for you to see.”

She glanced at his sleeve, murmured “Oh,” and turned back to lie down, showing no intention of applying the medicine.

Thinking it over, she picked up a hairpin from the pillow and placed it between them.

After a long silence, the bed sank slightly as the man, cold to the touch, slipped under the covers.

Even without touching, their bodies inevitably pressed close.

Thankfully, Jin Huai Pei was a disciplined sleeper; once lying flat, he did not move.

Outside, the wind howled. The cramped room felt dim, and in the darkness, his chilly aura was more pronounced.

Zhi Yi Shen stiffened, swallowed hard, instinctively shrinking toward the corner.

“Zhi Yi Shen—”

He suddenly called her name.

She shivered, and after a moment, once her racing heart settled, she softly replied.

The wind outside intensified, rattling the window frame loudly.

After a long pause, the man’s low voice whispered near her ear:

“Zhi Yi Shen, do you… want to have a child?”

She was stunned, silent for a moment before suddenly laughing:

“Brother Huai Pei, isn’t your heart only for Qin Yin? You let me die for her sake. If you had a child with me, what would become of Qin Yin?”

As she finished, his breath deepened sharply.

She pressed her lips together, stifling the faint sting in her heart, and turned away from him.

Though she could outwardly show indifference, tears of grievance escaped from the corners of her eyes.

Her parents and brother had abandoned her, and the man she had loved for so many years had chosen to sacrifice her for another.

Why was she always the one being discarded?