Jinxiu Garden.
“Why would the heir help that little bitch Song Qinghe turn down the marriage? She must have gone to complain!” Nanny Cai cursed angrily.
Madam Shen’s face was dark. “It wouldn’t be strange if she complained. What’s strange is why Lu Shiji would help her.”
This was clearly a very good marriage.
“Could it be that he noticed something suspicious about this match?”
Nanny Cai hurried to say, “That shouldn’t be possible. The heir just returned to the capital and has been busy investigating the rebel case these past few days. How would he have the time to look into matters inside the household? There’s no way the heir discovered anything!”
Madam Shen’s expression remained heavy. “If it’s not because he found something, then why would he stop Song Qinghe’s marriage? Could it be that he has feelings for Song Qinghe…”
Nanny Cai’s brow jumped sharply. “How could that be? With someone like Song Qinghe, how could the heir possibly take a liking to her?”
She quickly added, trying to reassure her, “I’ve heard that the heir has been getting along quite well with the cousin lady lately. He even gave her his own handwritten drafts so she could practice calligraphy.”
Only then did Madam Shen relax a little. “No matter what, the marriage between A-Li and Lu Shiji is what truly matters. I hear the Dingzhou rebel case is almost finished. We need to push for this marriage to be settled as soon as possible.”
“You’re absolutely right, Madam. What is Song Qinghe anyway? She’s not even worth your attention. You helping arrange her marriage was already showing her kindness. If she doesn’t appreciate it, there will be plenty of ways to deal with her later.”
Nanny Cai smiled. “Once the cousin lady’s marriage to the heir is finalized, Madam can finally put her heart at ease.”
Li Chu organized the pages of calligraphy she had written and went once again to Wenlan Garden.
“Cousin.”
She stood at the doorway and peeked inside, only her head showing. Her soft cheeks were outlined with a warm golden glow from the sunlight, and the ribbons tied into her twin buns spilled down with her hair.
Lu Shiji was reviewing documents. When he lifted his eyes, he met her round, almond-shaped eyes. She smiled, and a faint dimple appeared on her cheek.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly. “What brings you here?”
Li Chu immediately walked in. “I wrote another ten sheets of large characters. I’d like cousin to take a look.”
Her attitude was very sincere, as if she were truly eager to learn.
Lu Shiji took the pages from her, flipped through them, and nodded slightly. “There’s some improvement.”
Li Chu’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
She happily said, “I remembered everything you taught me about brush technique yesterday. I spent a full hour carefully writing these sheets! My hand even started to hurt.”
She held out her fair right hand. Since a night had passed, there was no longer any visible mark from holding the brush.
Lu Shiji’s gaze fell on her slender fingers and lingered there.
She seemed to realize the marks were gone and awkwardly pulled her hand back. “My fingers were red yesterday.”
Then she emphasized, “I wasn’t lying!”
If it had been the tutors at home, they would definitely have said she was lying. After all, she’d done that sort of thing plenty of times before.
But Lu Shiji simply nodded. “I know.”
Her skin was delicate. Even a little pressure would leave marks easily, but they faded just as fast. After one night, they were mostly gone—unless the force had been heavier. Even then, with some medicine, they would disappear in a few days.
Li Chu thought to herself, how could there be someone this kind in the world? He believed her completely, without doubting her even a little.
The smile in Li Chu’s eyes deepened. “Cousin, you’re really a good person.”
Lu Shiji’s fingers resting on the desk paused slightly. Looking at the bright, sparkling smile in her eyes, he felt a strange mix of familiarity and distance.
It was familiar because she had once smiled and said those same words before.
It was unfamiliar because she hadn’t been saying them to him.
His gaze darkened briefly, as if he remembered something unpleasant. Then he lowered his eyes again, his expression returning to calm.
He picked up the vermilion brush and marked her manuscript. “This character, ‘Chen’—the brush stroke here isn’t smooth enough. It needs to flow more evenly.”
Li Chu leaned closer to take a look. “So that’s how it is. Cousin, your writing is really good.”
She watched his long, well-defined fingers casually controlling the wolf-hair brush, then blinked and asked, as if it were just an offhand thought, “Cousin helped Miss Song refuse that marriage. Was it because you felt the match wasn’t good enough?”
He finished the last stroke and replied calmly, “Not exactly.”
Li Chu’s heart tightened. She looked at him, a little nervous. “Then why?”
“Qinghe didn’t want to marry. It wouldn’t be right to force her.”
He didn’t look up. The characters under his brush flowed smoothly, and his voice was steady and clear, like running water.
Li Chu froze for a moment. Suddenly, she felt ashamed of herself for having such petty thoughts, for doubting someone so pure and aloof, like untouched snow on a high mountain.
That day, Miss Song had come to him in tears to beg for help. How could someone as kind as her cousin bear to let his younger sister marry someone she didn’t love?
Li Chu nodded seriously. “You’re right, Cousin. No matter how good the family background is, if it’s not a good match, it shouldn’t be forced.”
Lu Shiji’s hand holding the brush paused slightly. He lifted his eyes to look at her, and something deeper flickered in his clear gaze.
Li Chu’s eyes were so clean and transparent that you could see straight through them. She blinked. “Am I wrong?”
The corner of his lips moved faintly. “Of course not.”
Why force it?
Right now, she hovered around him, her whole heart and attention fixed on him alone.
Li Chu smiled again and picked up the brush. “Then let me try.”
She stood beside the desk, bent slightly at the waist, and carefully wrote one crooked stroke after another on the xuan paper.
A strand of hair slipped from her shoulder and landed right on the long fingers he had resting on the desk.
He lowered his eyes and looked at the fingers tangled with her hair. The familiar warm scent from her lingered at his nose, making him feel calm, yet faintly restless at the same time.
When he lifted his gaze, he saw her slender neck and skin as pale and smooth as fine jade, quietly drawing him in.
His eyes darkened, and his throat rolled as he restrained himself.
“Cousin, do you think this is okay?” Li Chu finished writing and looked up at him.
He lowered his eyes, hiding the desire beneath them. His gentle voice was a touch hoarser than before. “Not bad.”
Li Chu happily lifted the brush again and kept writing.
He looked at the strand of hair still wrapped around his fingers and gently curled his finger, easing the restless heat rising in his body.
“Shen Li Chu went to Wenlan Garden again?” Song Qinghe’s face looked terrible.
“She did! That cousin lady really has no shame, clinging to the heir day after day. Anyone can see what she’s after. The heir probably doesn’t dare refuse her outright because of the Duchess,” Hua Shan said.
Panic crept into Song Qinghe’s eyes. But would Brother Shiji really allow Shen Li Chu to get close to him just because he had to consider the Duchess?
She suddenly clenched her handkerchief, her face darkening. “I can’t let Brother Shiji be put in a difficult position. This Shen Li Chu absolutely cannot be allowed to keep pestering him!”
Hua Shan hesitated. “But the cousin lady has the Duchess backing her. How could you possibly be a match for her, Miss?”
The Duchess’s own niece was naturally indulged in everything. Song Qinghe was only an adopted daughter and had never been favored by the Duchess to begin with.
She survived only because of the old madam’s bit of pity.
How could Song Qinghe dare to go against Shen Li Chu?
Song Qinghe gave a cold laugh. “Of course. She’s the pampered young miss of the Shen family. If she wants to harm me, it would take nothing more than lifting a finger.”
Hua Shan’s expression shifted. “Miss, you mean…”
Song Qinghe opened a small pearwood box. Inside lay a lifelike phoenix-butterfly gilded hairpin.
Her fingertips traced over the gold pin, and her eyes looked as if they had been dipped in poison.