“I thought you should have loved me.”
After Song Shiwei left, Shen Yu spoke slowly, as if these seemingly aggrieved words were not coming from her own mouth.
She sat uninvited in the seat Song Shiwei had just occupied. The tea in the cup had already grown cold, but she paid it no mind, downing it in one swift gulp.
She could not describe the feeling in her heart.
Yet she knew she did have feelings for Luo Rong.
These feelings were not deep, stemming entirely from that brief tenderness in her childhood.
“I remember when I was six, it was the Qixi Festival. You took me to Ping’an Street. I was so happy that day, and you even got me new clothes.”
A trace of a smile surfaced in the depths of Shen Yu’s eyes.
“You also bought me rice cakes and malt candy. Later on, when I fell into the water, you stayed up all night taking care of me.”
At that time, her little maid, Qing Shuang, had even thought that her mother had changed her ways and that their good days were finally coming.
Yet nothing changed at all.
The very next day after she recovered, her mother never once set foot in her small courtyard again.
It was as if the tenderness of those few days had merely been a dream.
Doubt, bewilderment, and probing filled Shen Yu’s eyes.
Why?
Mother?
Was it because of a sudden wave of guilt?
Guilt for pushing her into the water, which was why she had frantically fished her back up, stayed up all night attending to her without changing clothes, and cared for her day and night for several days?
And then, once she recovered, that guilt faded away like the receding tide!
Leaving her ignored and neglected for twelve full years.
Luo Rong, is your heart truly this ruthless?
A sudden wave of distress clutched at Shen Yu’s heart, though she could not explain why.
She had originally harbored no expectations, yet Luo Rong was like a hidden thorn, always pricking her fiercely just as she was about to let things go.
She could never figure out the reason. Why?
If you did not love her, why save her?
Her handsome brows were cast in a layer of gloom, resembling fractured mountains with a roaring, relentless river surging beneath them.
Yet her gaze remained so calm, as though she were simply recounting a trivial daily routine.
Luo Rong sat there, her profound gaze fixed on Shen Yu.
After a long while, she finally heard her speak in an ice-cold voice.
“It was merely good fortune.”
Luo Rong looked at Shen Yu, yet it seemed as though she were looking through her at someone else.
Shen Yu’s heart instantly turned cold.
Hah!
She had been blinded by a single leaf before her eyes.
The corners of her lips curved into a sneer.
How could she have ever expected.
She stopped speaking, turning around and striding away. As she neared the doorway, Shen Yu spoke again as if a thought had just occurred to her.
“Shen Lan is still alive, is he not?”
Luo Rong’s gaze instantly turned sharp.
Yet Shen Yu paid her no heed, speaking with considerable disdain. “You had best pray that he does not appear before me, otherwise.”
She left the sentence unfinished, but the bloodlust in her eyes said it all.
Cold sweat poured down Luo Rong’s back as she sat in her chair, staring in disbelief at the retreating figure of Shen Yu.
Shen Yu had actually suppressed her entirely from the moment she stepped through the door!
This had never happened before.
Gloomy, damp, viscous.
Drip, drip, drip.
Deep sea, mud, swamp.
Falling downward, sinking downward.
Dead silence.
A complete dead silence.
This was the Shen Lan that Song Shiwei saw before her eyes right now.
Those eyes that had once shone as bright as stars were now like a pool of stagnant water, causing anyone who looked upon them to feel a sense of boundless despair.
Clearly, he was standing right beside her in the flesh, attentive, considerate, gentle, and warm, yet it was as if his entire soul had been hollowed out, leaving him hollow and numb.
The corners of his eyes curved upward in a smile, yet she felt as though he were weeping.
Her hand reached out to stroke Shen Yu’s brows, tender and meticulous.
“My Lord Husband, let us go home.”
Shen Yu visibly froze, looking somewhat panicked.
“What is the matter?”
“Has not Your Highness always been quite curious about the outside world?”
Her eyes carried panic, completely devoid of the composure she had shown upon their first meeting.
Had an informed cultivator witnessed this, they would have known that Shen Yu was currently experiencing the most fatal moment for a practitioner.
Corruption, also known as the fracturing of the mind.
Unfortunately, Song Shiwei was no cultivator; she had no idea how dangerous Shen Yu was at this moment.
She merely pulled his hand and spoke slowly. “No matter how much I like it, I will not have my Lord Husband unhappy!”
Her voice was sweet and soft, like honey.
Yet the Shen Yu of the present had no use for honey; what she needed was a sense of validation, a directive, a goal.
Thus, her gaze remained bewildered and sorrowful.
Had she made a mistake once more?
Song Shiwei no longer wished to remain outside; she had bungled yet another matter.
Why did she always mess up every single time?
Every action she took was a mistake!
She existed as a mistake.
“Where does Your Highness wish to go, then?”
Her voice was tiny, laden with an unremarkable vulnerability.
She kept her head lowered, and thus she could not see the complexity in Song Shiwei’s eyes.
The world plunged into dead silence once more.
The bustling street seemed entirely detached from the two of them, like a fractured painting where neither party could blend into the other.
Shen Yu wore an unremarkable grey-blue robe, and Song Shiwei wore an unremarkable dark ink skirt.
The two stood facing each other in silence, locked in a stalemate.
At the very end, Song Shiwei let out a soft sigh.
She walked over to Shen Yu, took her hand, and asked like someone coaxing a child. “Where is it that my Lord Husband wishes to go, then?”
She tilted her head up slightly, the sunlight refracting into her eyes and making them sparkle brightly, melting away the towering frost within and revealing a soft heart brimming with boundless tolerance.
Shen Yu’s grievances seemed as though they had been hit with a pause button.
That boundless darkness slowly shattered, casting forth a warm, rosy glow.
Song Shiwei knew she had asked the right question.
She smiled faintly and extended her hand. “Then I must trouble the Lord Husband to lead the way!”
Like a block of ice dropping into warm water.
Plop.
Naughty yet adorable.
Shen Yu in a daze, firmly grasped Song Shiwei’s hand back, then gave a sudden pull.
The surroundings rushed past in a blur.
In the blink of an eye, Song Shiwei fell right into Shen Yu’s embrace.
Before she could utter a coquettish complaint, she heard the vibration of his chest.
“Your Highness, hold on tight.”
Then.
Exclamations rang out from the crowd.
Like a soaring swallow, the howling wind rushed all around her. She could feel the heart-stopping thrill of suddenly being suspended in mid-air alongside Shen Lan, and she could also feel the reassuring sense of safety when Shen Lan’s feet finally touched down upon the ground and the tiled roofs.
Her heart rose and fell with every single movement Shen Lan made.
A moment later, the familiar sensation washed over her once more.
“Your Highness, we have arrived.”
His voice sounded somewhat strange and muffled.
As though he were suppressing something.
Song Shiwei remained slightly dazed, lifting her head in a dizzy fog.
For the first time, did she perhaps suffer from motion sickness while flying?
She looked up, only to be met with a warm and brilliant smile.
Under the warm, cozy sunlight, her entire posture appeared wonderfully relaxed.
The day was still early. After leaving Mother Luo’s courtyard, Shen Lan had brought her away from the Shen residence, claiming he wanted to sneak her out to play.
In the blink of an eye, it was already time for lunch.
She surveyed her surroundings; this place was rather quiet.
Compared to the previous street, this area was practically desolate, with nothing in sight save for a few elderly vendors running sparse stalls.
Ahead lay rows of interlocking multi-story pavilions and alleyways.
Behind her leaned a willow-lined embankment and the head of a stone bridge.
What a leisurely and tranquil scene.
“This place is called Five-Coin Alley.”
And with that, there was no more to be said.
He walked past Song Shiwei, then took her hand and led her over to a street stall.
The vendor running the stall was advanced in years, only noticing the two vague figures as they drew close.
He skillfully tended to his stall and spoke warmly. “What would the two of you care for?”
It seemed that elderly folk of this age invariably carried a touch of kindness.
“A portion of mung bean pastries, one with osmanthus honey, and another.”
She turned to look at Song Shiwei, then smoothly corrected herself. “Both with osmanthus honey.”
Song Shiwei nodded in satisfaction.
She looked on with eager interest as the old man busied himself with his wooden utensils.
They were very ancient-looking wooden tools of rather peculiar shapes. The old man lifted a thick white cloth, revealing tightly packed blocks of pressed mung bean pastries.
He then pressed a block of mung bean pastry into a small bowl-shaped wooden depression and placed it into a steamer.
Shen Yu watched over this mischievous princess with utmost care, terrified lest any stray sparks or steam should collide with her.
An old woman nearby laughed at the sight. “This young lady is truly blessed to have found such a caring husband.”
Hearing this, Song Shiwei blushed fiercely, instantly turning into a turtle hiding in its shell.
Shen Yu chuckled at the sight. “My wife is of delicate health, naturally I must be more attentive.”
The youth’s voice was loud, clear, and full of youthful vigor.
As though it could be heard across ten miles of streets, Song Shiwei’s ears felt as though they were on fire, her earlobes turning red enough to drip blood.
Overcome by shyness and vexation, she pinched the soft flesh at Shen Yu’s waist. Shen Yu begged for mercy on the spot as she uttered coquettishly, “Why must you speak so loudly?”
Shen Yu burst into a bright laugh, blooming as grandly as the midday sun in June.
“But Her Highness is naturally my wife!”
The youth leaned in close to her ear, whispering sweet nothings, the hot breath exhaled burning against the strings of her reason.
She froze right where she stood, unable to move.
Yet Shen Yu seemed to notice nothing out of the ordinary, acting like a youth completely intoxicated by love and deeply trapped in its web.
Song Shiwei stared blankly at him, watching his joy, while a bitter ache quietly welled up in her heart.
She was only sixteen years old, right in the prime of her youth.
Everything around her seemed infected by the youth’s laughter; every face carried a smile, the sunlight grew bolder, and the young tree sprouts flourished vibrantly.
Everything around them was brimming with vitality.
Except for Song Shiwei.
Perhaps even Song Shiwei herself did not realize that a ray of sunshine had curved onto her own lips as well.
Shen Yu, keep running! Why are you not running away this time?
Unfortunately, Shen Yu could neither hear her inner thoughts nor knew the fact that her identity had already been exposed.
Song Shiwei closed her eyes slightly to calm her fluctuating emotions.
When she opened them again, she was met with the youth’s beaming face closing in.
Holding them like precious treasures, Shen Yu held out two piping-hot mung bean pastries in her hands.
The pastries were sprinkled with glistening osmanthus honey.
They looked soft, glutinous, and sweet.
“Eat my mung bean pastry, and your days shall be filled with sweetness.”
The old vendor chimed in appropriately, adding a unique charm to the pastries.
Looking at Shen Yu’s bright, eagerly expectant eyes, Song Shiwei resignedly picked up a piece.
The pastry was quite large, but Song Shiwei took very small bites. Her full lips were stained with honey, gleaming under the sunlight with a unique, alluring luster.
Shen Yu watched infatuatedly, a surge of longing rising in her eyes.
Song Shiwei was scorched by his burning gaze. “What are you looking at? Eat your own!”
Shen Yu was jolted back to her senses by her reprimand.
She hurriedly chimed in by way of cover. “Oh! Oh!”
Lowering her head, she stuffed a mouthful of pastry, her cheeks blushing red of their own accord.
No one rudely interrupted this tranquility.
Song Shiwei was unaccustomed to eating amidst crowds, so Shen Yu obediently waited until she finished eating before moving on.
Until the sun set in the west.
The lingering rays of the setting sun stretched the figures of the two people longer and longer.
Song Shiwei, carrying a hint of fatigue, leaned her head against the side of the carriage, looking down at Shen Yu with a radiant smile below the vehicle, and furrowed her brow slightly.
“When will you return?”
Shen Yu pretended to ponder, deliberating for a moment before smiling with absolute confidence. “No later than the hour of Xu.”
Her brow twitched slightly.
“There is a curfew in the capital, mind yourself. If you have not returned by the hour of You, I shall send Fu Cong to fetch you.”
Fu Cong was the carriage driver for the day.
Song Shiwei gave her instructions there. Shen Yu did not ask how she knew her whereabouts, just as Song Shiwei had not inquired about what she was going to do.
This was the capital. The imperial house held eyes and ears reaching everywhere here.
Shen Yu gave a crisp assent.
As attentive as a little puppy, she waved goodbye to the departing carriage.
Until the carriage vanished from sight.
Her brilliant smile abruptly vanished, turning as chillingly austere as the depths of winter.
With a gloomy expression, she walked into an alleyway, making several turns until she reached a main thoroughfare. Directly across the street stood the capital’s most renowned restaurant, Lai An Ke.
The restaurant’s attendant clearly recognized her, or perhaps one should ask, who in the world did not recognize the illustrious Shen Lan? The moment she stepped through the door, their eyes met, and she was promptly escorted to an upscale private room.
“This way, honored guest, please enter.”
Ignoring the attendant’s obsequiousness, Shen Yu lifted her foot, her gaze mixed with a hint of gloom.
Inside, the room was dead silent, as though it had entered a realm devoid of all life.
“Your Excellency, are you still not planning to step out?”
Shen Yu leaned against the wooden door, her gaze playful.
The figures shifted, and a youth clad in black robes materialized out of thin air.