Something was pressed tightly against her waist…
Keep it a secret…
Li Tingyuan silently pondered these four words, unable to describe the complex emotions swirling within her.
She turned back and this time carefully examined the girl beside her.
Was this the type Cui Zhuo liked?
Gentle, delicate, like a little white flower grown in a greenhouse that would snap at the slightest breeze.
In contrast, she herself—having experienced the decline of her family, the death of both parents, and shouldering alone the responsibility for her younger brother’s studies and future—was more like a wildflower by the roadside.
Liu Mengyuan was an honored guest strongly requested by Madam Cui to stay, a distinguished visitor at Cuifu, while she herself was merely clinging to others’ goodwill, living under their roof and at their mercy, not even comparable to those poor relatives who came to Cuifu seeking assistance.
Li Tingyuan’s eyelashes drooped slightly, concealing the dimness in her eyes.
Seeing her silent, Liu Mengyuan took a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it over.
“Since it’s our first meeting, I don’t have anything special to give you, sister. This handkerchief was embroidered by my own hands. I offer it to you in hopes of bringing a smile to your face.”
Li Tingyuan was now extremely sensitive to the word “handkerchief.” Hearing this, she suddenly looked at the handkerchief, and her pupils immediately constricted.
In one corner of the handkerchief Liu Mengyuan handed over was clearly embroidered the character “Yuan.”
Seeing her absentmindedly trace the character with her fingers, Liu Mengyuan couldn’t help but smile:
“It’s such a great coincidence that both our names contain the character ‘Yuan.’ That’s why I embroidered this character. I hope you won’t find it unworthy.”
A thought stirred in Li Tingyuan’s heart, and a strong feeling suddenly surged forth.
She opened her mouth, her voice slightly dry and hoarse:
“Miss Liu’s embroidery skills are remarkable. I suppose the Prince must also greatly admire the things you embroider?”
Liu Mengyuan let out a soft “ah,” her fair cheeks gradually flushing with a shy blush as she said coyly:
“Even you know about it, sister? Please keep it a secret for me.”
Looking at her expression, Li Tingyuan’s heart gradually sank.
It was strange. She had been hoping that Cui Zhuo wouldn’t remember the events of three years ago, and on the way back, she had been anxious because of that handkerchief that might have been lost by her.
Now, knowing that the handkerchief was indeed embroidered by Liu Mengyuan, for some reason, a hollow, sour ache suddenly arose in her heart. She inwardly laughed at her own wishful thinking.
Li Tingyuan pursed her lips, nodded, and her voice was so light it seemed as if it might vanish at any moment:
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret.”
Later, Liu Mengyuan chatted with her for a while longer, but Li Tingyuan couldn’t remember what was said at all.
She only felt a tightness in her chest.
After Liu Mengyuan left, Li Tingyuan added two more oil lamps to the desk.
The warm yellow flames shone brightly.
She gently rubbed the pages of the paper. The smooth texture of the paper and the scent of ink on the desk provided her with the only sense of security, gradually dispelling the confusion in her eyes.
Li Tingyuan took a deep breath and plunged back into the account ledger before her.
By the time Li Tingyuan raised her head from the account ledger, rubbing her neck, a faint light had already appeared outside the window.
She washed up briefly and went to bed, sleeping for only two or three hours before getting up again to check the account ledger. Even meals were hastily eaten just to stave off hunger.
After three days of this, Li Tingyuan finally finished verifying and settling the account ledger.
That day, upon learning that Cui Zhuo had returned to the mansion before dinner, Li Tingyuan hurriedly took the account ledger and rushed to Songyue Ju.
Upon reaching the entrance, Cui Ji'an greeted her with a smile.
Having experienced his similarly smiling welcome outside the White Horse Temple last time, Li Tingyuan felt her brow twitch sharply whenever she saw Cui Ji'an approaching with that expression, always sensing trouble ahead.
Fortunately, this time Cui Ji'an said nothing of consequence, only informing her that the Heir of the Marquis was receiving a guest in the study and asking her to wait a moment.
Li Tingyuan thanked him, politely declined his offer to fetch a chair, and walked directly to the corridor beside the study to wait quietly.
It was early spring, and the mornings and evenings still carried a chill.
Li Tingyuan gathered her cloak and lightly sniffed, the coolness immediately tinging the tip of her nose while her nostrils filled with the damp fragrance of grass and trees.
She loved this season—or rather, she loved cool weather and could hardly bear the summer heat.
Thus, during the three years she had followed her parents to the south, she had never truly settled comfortably.
Now, suddenly back in familiar surroundings, the early spring chill brought a rare moment of relaxation to her tightly wound heart.
It seemed… she hadn’t truly felt this season in a long time.
The corners of Li Tingyuan’s lips lifted slightly as she closed her eyes and took another deep breath of the crisp, cool air.
Just then, the door to the study creaked open.
Li Tingyuan opened her eyes and looked toward the sound.
An elderly man with slightly graying hair and beard emerged from the study. His demeanor suggested a high-ranking official, yet he appeared somewhat disoriented, even stumbling slightly as he reached the steps.
Cui Ji'an swiftly moved to support him.
Li Tingyuan heard him say:
"Lord Guo, please be careful!"
Lord Guo?
Li Tingyuan silently repeated the name in her mind. The old man looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she had seen him before, so she set the thought aside for the moment.
Lord Guo left in such haste that the study door remained open.
As Li Tingyuan approached, she happened to see Cui Zhuo leaning back in his chair, his head slightly tilted upward with his eyes closed. The fading sunlight fell on his pale skin, casting a soft, gilded glow.
Her footsteps halted outside the door, and her gaze involuntarily drifted to Cui Zhuo’s neck.
—The bite mark on his Adam’s apple became even more exposed as he tilted his head back.
Feeling guilty as a thief, Li Tingyuan glanced at it briefly before quickly looking away.
Liu Mengyuan’s words that night indicated that Cui Zhuo had not remembered who was with him three years ago—in other words, he likely didn’t know who had left that mark.
Lowering her eyes, she focused on the threshold before her feet and said softly:
"Prince, I’ve come to return the account book."
A moment later, a faint voice came from inside: "Enter."
Hesitantly, Li Tingyuan walked in and stood before the desk.
"The accounts you asked me to organize the other day are now fully sorted. Please review them, Prince."
Cui Zhuo remained in the same posture she had seen before entering.
As she spoke, he extended his hand toward her.
Li Tingyuan gently placed the account book into his palm.
Just like when he had cornered her in front of the bookshelf last time, their hands came very close over the account book—so close that she could almost feel the warmth of his skin and the faint pulse in his fingers.
Cui Zhuo’s palm slowly closed, his knuckles distinct and well-defined.
The account book gathered and curved in his grasp.
For some reason, though he was clearly holding the account book, Li Tingyuan felt as if he were slowly closing his hand around hers.
She hastily withdrew her hand and, as he opened his eyes to look at her, subtly tucked her fingers into her sleeve, rubbing them lightly.
Cui Zhuo sat up straight, his slender fingers tracing the pages.
He read quickly yet attentively, his expression stern and unsmiling.
As the sound of pages turning one after another filled the air, Li Tingyuan’s heart gradually tightened with anticipation.
Finally, his movement paused, his gaze lingering briefly on a particular spot before he swiftly turned the page.
The following pages were skimmed over hastily by Cui Zhuo.
Closing the account book, he did not immediately share his thoughts. Instead, he looked up at her, silent, the expression in his eyes making Li Tingyuan uneasy.
After a long while, he finally spoke, but asked a question Li Tingyuan had not anticipated.
“Did Liu Mengyuan come to see you that day?”
Li Tingyuan’s mind went blank for a moment. It took her a few seconds to react before she nodded.
It was no wonder she had forgotten—these past few days, she had been buried in calculations for the account book, her mind consumed by nothing else. Caught off guard by the question, she truly struggled to shift her focus.
Perhaps her reaction was too naive, for a faint, almost imperceptible curve appeared at the corner of Cui Zhuo’s tightly pressed lips.
He set the account book aside. “Speak, then. What are your conditions?”
At the mention of conditions, Li Tingyuan immediately understood.
She met Cui Zhuo’s gaze without flinching.
“I have long heard of Great Scholar Xue Qinghong’s esteemed reputation and profound knowledge. My younger brother, Li Huaishan, has also admired him for a long time.”
“You want me to make the introduction?”
“Yes.”
Her straightforwardness drew a light chuckle from Cui Zhuo. “That’s easy enough. And then?”
“And then?”
Li Tingyuan was confused. What did he mean, “and then”?
While she was still lost in thought, Cui Zhuo had already risen and circled around the desk.
He maintained a respectful distance, adhering to the propriety between men and women. Yet, despite this, Li Tingyuan felt an inexplicable sense of pressure.
Cui Zhuo came to a stop slightly behind and to the side of her.
Before Li Tingyuan could open her mouth to speak, something cold and hard pressed firmly against her waist.
Her body stiffened, a tingling sensation creeping up her scalp.
Held in his hand, the cold object slowly traced upward along her spine, inch by inch, as if measuring her flesh and bones, carrying a chilling sense of loss of control. Finally, it came to rest just below the nape of her neck.
“Since you dare to look me in the eye and negotiate terms—”
The man’s voice was steady, his downward gaze as calm as a deep abyss, as though it were not him pressing something against her.
He applied pressure, and Li Tingyuan had no choice but to straighten her back under the cold touch.
“Since you dare to look me in the eye and negotiate terms, you should straighten your back and be more confident.”
He withdrew his hand, the coldness receding, but Li Tingyuan felt the chill linger along her spine, refusing to fade.
“Just as confident as you were that day outside White Horse Temple.”
Cui Zhuo’s tone was cool as he circled back to face her, opening his palm.
Resting in his hand was an exquisitely crafted dagger inlaid with red agate.
“—The hilt bears my private seal. If you encounter someone like Guo Fan again, kill them directly.”
Only then did Li Tingyuan realize that what had been pressed against her back was this finely crafted dagger.
And what had guided the dagger inch by inch along her waist and back was the powerful hand gripping it—a hand that seemed capable of controlling everything.
Li Tingyuan’s heart felt as though it had been bluntly scraped by the sheathed dagger.
She tightened her grip, her voice slightly hoarse from the tension in her throat:
“What the Prince has given is far too precious. Tingyuan dares not accept it.”
“Dares not accept it?”
Cui Zhuo repeated Li Tingyuan’s words.
The four words that had just left her lips now passed through his own, and what had once sounded solemn suddenly seemed less so.
Li Tingyuan clenched her palms even tighter.
Cui Zhuo half-lowered his eyelids, gazing at her with a cold sneer slowly curling at the corner of his mouth:
“Didn’t you plan to leave Cuifu? If you encounter someone like Guo Fan again without Cuifu backing you, what will you do?”
Li Tingyuan’s eyes widened abruptly, and she looked up at him in disbelief.
When… when did he know she intended to leave?
Cui Zhuo sneered coldly:
“I paved the way for Li Huaishan, and now you’re leaving Cuifu. Isn’t that what you’ve been planning all along?”
Li Tingyuan glanced at his back as he walked back behind the desk, then lowered her gaze and fell silent.
Cui Zhuo lifted his eyelids, giving her a faint glance, before picking up the account ledger and flipping through it again.
“On page five, line seven, the ‘medicinal herbs’ expenditure is vaguely categorized. On page twelve, the total income entry has a misplaced digit. Such issues arise, first, because you haven’t thoroughly understood the entire estate’s operations, relying on assumptions instead—knowing only one aspect but not the other. Second, because you lack attention to detail.”
He placed the account book, along with the dagger, on the desk before her, giving her a cold stare as he uttered two words:
“Recalculate.”