7: The White Robes
She didn’t know how much time had passed when the chaotic sounds behind her gradually faded. Qiao Shilian felt the pressure on her body loosen—the person restraining her vanished as if into thin air.
Leaning against the tree, she struggled to steady herself, rubbing her sore shoulder while coughing up the rainwater that had choked her throat.
Qiao Shilian silently thanked the heavens. The heavy rain tonight had diluted the incense, rendering it less effective. Moreover, the noise she had made was loud enough to draw others, forcing the assassin to retreat.
A faint glimmer of lamplight pierced through the rainy night, swaying gently.
Soon, Eunuch Jiude hurried across the light, urgently signaling for the palace attendants to hold an umbrella over Qiao Shilian and shield her from the rain. He stared at her deathly pale, rain-soaked face and cried out in a shrill voice, “Miss Qiao! Miss Qiao, are you alright?”
Qiao Shilian shook her head to indicate she was fine, then gathered her collar tighter. She knew she must look utterly disheveled—soaked through from the rain and exhausted from struggling against the assassin. Her appearance was the least of her worries.
Still, to avoid alarming the enemy, she had to keep the encounter a secret from the Eastern Palace.
“Miss Qiao, the carriage has been repaired.”
The calm, almost indifferent voice came from behind Eunuch Jiude. It was none other than Su Zhuoguang.
A flicker of surprise crossed Qiao Shilian’s face, but then she understood how she had managed to escape danger.
Fenglai’s hearing was exceptional—he must have caught her struggle, and Su Zhuoguang, learning of it, had forced his way into the villa. He had found Eunuch Jiude and deliberately guided him to this spot, foiling the assailant’s plans.
After all, as an outsider, Su Zhuoguang barging into the villa in the middle of the night to rescue a lone woman would have been highly improper if witnessed. But with Eunuch Jiude present, the situation appeared more acceptable.
She couldn’t help but feel moved.
She had gambled correctly—Su Zhuoguang had not abandoned her to her fate.
Qiao Shilian quietly buried her gratitude and nodded in acknowledgment. “Since the carriage has been repaired, I won’t trouble His Highness any further.”
As she prepared to leave, she saw guards streaming into the courtyard from both sides. In their midst, Qin Shuo strode forward, his outer robe seemingly thrown on in haste and slightly disheveled.
“What happened?”
Qin Shuo had heard a woman’s scream, but the heavy rain had muffled it, and he hadn’t recognized it as Qiao Shilian’s voice. It wasn’t until his guards reported that Qiao Shilian was missing in the villa that he rushed over.
His gaze fell on Qiao Shilian, and his expression shifted slightly. “Shilian? What happened to you?”
“The wind was strong earlier and blew out the lanterns. I lost my way and stumbled in a panic… I just dirtied my clothes, but I’m fine,” Qiao Shilian said, lowering her head. Her delicate, frail posture as she leaned against the tree only made her appear more pitiable, easily stirring a man’s sympathy.
Thus, Qin Shuo, concerned about her condition, didn’t think too deeply about the truthfulness of her words.
“This subordinate deserves death! It was this subordinate who was protecting Miss Qiao. I lost her and caused her to fall… I failed in my duty and willingly accept punishment…” The guard who had been assigned to protect her earlier knelt on the ground, trembling with fear.
The guard was also bewildered. The moment the lanterns went out, he had instinctively tried to move closer to Qiao Shilian, only to find her completely gone in an instant. How could a young lady with no martial arts skills vanish like that? It was truly strange.
But with the Crown Prince so deeply concerned for Qiao Shilian, if he were to tell the truth of what he witnessed, he risked the prince thinking he was shirking responsibility and flying into a rage. After all, failing in his duty to protect his charge was an undeniable offense.
Qiao Shilian fixed her gaze on the guard. There were no bite marks on his hands—he wasn’t the one from the shadows. “Your Highness, it was my own panic that made me lose this guard. Please don’t blame him.”
Qin Shuo snorted coldly. “Failing to protect your charge deserves punishment. But since Shilian has pleaded for you… you may take twenty lashes.”
As he finished speaking, his eyes inadvertently drifted toward Su Zhuoguang, who stood at a distance, and his gaze sharpened instantly.
Qiao Shilian quickly intervened. “I imagine Young General Su must have heard the commotion from outside and, fearing something had happened to Your Highness, rushed into the courtyard without thinking. I hope Your Highness can overlook his intrusion, given his urgent desire to help.”
Su Zhuoguang remained as cold and distant as ever. Even when facing the Crown Prince, he merely offered a formal bow, adhering to the proper etiquette between ruler and subject, only after Qin Shuo’s gaze had settled upon him.
Although the two were separated by a considerable distance, Qiao Shilian sensed an icy tension between them. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was clear—these two were far from compatible.
It seemed Su Zhuoguang’s refusal of the concubine Qin Shuo had offered him had deeply displeased the Crown Prince.
Qin Shuo ignored Su Zhuoguang, treating him as if he were air. Yet seeing Qiao Shilian plead on his behalf only fueled the irritation boiling inside him.
Since when had she grown so close to this Su Zhuoguang?
“Eunuch Jiude, take Shilian to change her clothes,” Qin Shuo said, his tone noticeably stiff.
“Your Highness is too kind, but this subject must decline. It’s already late, and my elder brother returned to the estate long ago. I can’t stay any longer.”
Even without the incident of the nighttime assault, Qiao Shilian would have refused him. She had made up her mind—to escape the gilded cage Qin Shuo was crafting for her, not to willingly step back inside.
There was nothing within that cage she desired, only the sight of the man she had grown to despise, day and night—Qin Shuo himself.
“I’ll send someone to explain to Minister Qiao,” Qin Shuo pressed, unwilling to let it go.
“Ahem, Your Highness, Miss Qiao is still unmarried… staying here too late at night might invite gossip and harm her reputation. Besides, there are no women’s clothes for Miss Qiao to change into within this villa…”
Eunuch Jiude stepped forward to dissuade the Crown Prince. Earlier, seeing Qiao Shilian in such a state, he had considered suggesting she change clothes before leaving. But apart from the servants’ garments, there were no women’s clothes in the villa at all, forcing him to abandon the idea.
“Tomorrow, go pick out some fine fabrics and have some clothes made for Shilian, to be kept here at the villa.”
Qin Shuo’s words left both Eunuch Jiude and Qiao Shilian puzzled.
Eunuch Jiude was confused—hadn’t he just emphasized that keeping Miss Qiao at the villa would harm her reputation?
As for Qiao Shilian, she was wondering—why would she need to keep clothes at the villa? She had no formal relationship with the Crown Prince. His actions seemed excessive.
Su Zhuoguang, who stood apart from the matter, had no interest in probing further. “Since Your Highness is safe, this subject will take his leave.”
“Your Highness, my spare clothes are in the carriage. If I don’t change soon, I’m afraid I might fall ill.” Qiao Shilian glanced at Su Zhuoguang, who was already leaving, her only thought being to escape. She still hadn’t learned the details about the assassin’s identity from Su Zhuoguang and couldn’t let him leave just yet.
But that seemingly intentional glance from Qiao Shilian was caught by Qin Shuo.
Having said that, he couldn’t find a suitable reason to force Qiao Shilian to stay. The gloom in Qin Shuo’s eyes deepened further as he rubbed his thumb ring and ordered in a low voice, “Eunuch Jiude, escort Shilian out of the villa.”
Su Zhuoguang walked quickly. By the time Qiao Shilian followed Eunuch Jiude to the villa’s main gate, Su Zhuoguang had long since vanished from sight.
“His Highness cares for you deeply, Miss Qiao, which is why he acted out of concern and may have overstepped. Regarding what happened earlier… if His Highness was improper in any way, I hope you can be understanding. This old servant will certainly explain things clearly to His Highness.”
Eunuch Jiude was an experienced old-timer who had lived in the palace for years. Having served the Crown Prince since childhood, he understood his temperament all too well. Tonight, he could see that Qin Shuo was in a poor mood and acting impulsively, so he took it upon himself to mediate, hoping Qiao Shilian wouldn’t take it to heart.
“His Highness is the esteemed Crown Prince. I am merely an official’s daughter—how could I possibly take issue with His Highness?” Qiao Shilian’s words carried an underlying meaning.
How could she not understand Qin Shuo’s intentions? From beginning to end, the way he treated her showed no regard for societal norms, propriety, or even her feelings. He wanted her simply because he liked her.
After all, he was born the Crown Prince—whatever he desired, he could have. To him, she was no different from any other object in this world he might covet.
Eunuch Jiude, being a sensitive man, understood the implication in Qiao Shilian’s words. After seeing her off, he sighed inwardly, thinking to himself: This Miss Qiao may not be someone His Highness can simply have just because he wants her.
The night rain had eased somewhat, no longer as urgent as when it first began.
To Qiao Shilian’s surprise, Su Zhuoguang had not left.
That figure in white robes remained striking in the dimness, standing silently by the carriage as if waiting for her.
“Young Miss, you’re finally back! What took you so long?”
Qiuying hurried forward, gasping when she saw Qiao Shilian completely drenched. “Oh! Why are you so wet? Let me take off my outer robe for you to wear.”
“Aren’t there spare clothes in the carriage?” Su Zhuoguang asked.
“There are. I’m already wearing them,” Qiao Shilian replied matter-of-factly.
She truly had kept a spare outer robe in the carriage. Hadn’t she torn her skirt during the banquet and asked Qiuying to fetch it for her to wear?
Su Zhuoguang: “…”
So, she had just made up that excuse to the Crown Prince to get away.
“Wait, wasn’t the carriage supposed to be repaired?” Qiao Shilian looked at the broken shafts of her family’s carriage, which remained untouched.
“It wasn’t repaired,” Qiuying chimed in.
Qiao Shilian glanced suspiciously at Su Zhuoguang, then suddenly understood—when Su Zhuoguang had entered the villa earlier and immediately announced that the carriage was repaired, it was simply to help her leave.
“Second Miss, the horse can still walk and can pull the carriage along. But the inside… well, it’s certainly not fit for passengers anymore. I’ll have to drive this carriage back to the estate alone,” the coachman called out.
Qiao Shilian nodded in acknowledgment, only to see a flash of white cutting through the darkness before her.
Without a word, Su Zhuoguang took off his white robe and handed it to Qiao Shilian. “Get in the carriage.”
Before Qiao Shilian could react, Fenglai helped her into the Su family carriage.
On the winding mountain road, the two carriages moved one after the other.
Inside the carriage, Qiao Shilian sat alone, holding the white robe, unsure of what to do.
This was her first time handling a man’s clothing. Accepting it in such an ambiguous manner felt improper.
When Su Zhuoguang knocked on the carriage frame and entered after her consent, he saw that she hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes at all. His white robe had been set aside, folded neatly.
“Is my robe dirty?” Su Zhuoguang asked, a slight frown crossing his brow.
“No,” Qiao Shilian denied.
His robe was indeed clean, carrying a faint, elusive scent of cold incense—like moonlight spilling over mountains and rivers, or the chilling fragrance of osmanthus in snowy air. As someone who often blended perfumes, she was sensitive to scents, and this one, she found, she quite liked.
Just as she hesitated, searching for the right words, and picked up the white robe to return it to him, Su Zhuoguang spoke again:
“I’m taking you home. If you fall ill, it would be troublesome.”
Her hands holding the robe paused mid-air. “Why would it be troublesome?”
Instead of answering, Su Zhuoguang countered, “Then why do you want to return my robe?”
Qiao Shilian twisted the corner of her garment. “Men and women should maintain propriety. It wouldn’t be proper…”
“Is propriety more important, or your life?” Su Zhuoguang cut her off.
She was drenched from head to toe, rainwater still dripping from the hem of her clothes. With some distance left on the journey, failing to change quickly would leave her highly susceptible to catching a chill.
“If you lose your life, what use is clinging to propriety? Didn’t you say you treasure your life? Or do these worldly conventions mean more to you than life itself?” Su Zhuoguang pressed.
Sure enough, at the mention of her life, Qiao Shilian hesitated, then withdrew her hand.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at him with determination. “Does the young general know that if a woman in this world fails to uphold propriety, the slightest misstep could cost her her life?”
There it was again—that look in her eyes.
The same look she had given him at the villa gates when she sought his help: the fear of death and the desperate desire to survive.
In the two years since his return to the capital, he had heard many things about the capital’s number one beauty—none beyond praises for her education, grace, and dignified demeanor. Everyone admired her peerless beauty and extolled her fine virtues.
But now, it seemed these were not what she desired. Instead, they had become heavy chains binding her.
He didn’t know the secrets hidden behind her words, nor did he wish to pry further. After a moment of silence, he left her with one sentence:
“In front of me, you may do as you please.”
Hearing this, Qiao Shilian froze for a moment. But when she looked up and saw Su Zhuoguang staring at her, his gaze as icy as if to say: I’ve said this much—try refusing my robe again, she shivered and quickly averted her eyes.
It was better not to provoke this man, she couldn’t afford to. If she angered him, it wouldn’t be impossible for him to change his mind and leave her stranded on the road.
One must know when to bend and when to stand firm. Qiao Shilian understood this well.
Before long, when Su Zhuoguang re-entered the carriage, she had already put on his white robe. Though it was a bit too large for her, it was dry and comfortable.
As Su Zhuoguang also settled inside to rest, Qiao Shilian tactfully made space for him, moving to sit in the farthest corner from him.
Su Zhuoguang noticed where she had chosen to sit, and the corner of his eye twitched slightly.
Am I that frightening?
Suddenly, the carriage jolted. Qiao Shilian, who had just sat down without anything to hold onto, was thrown off balance. As her world spun, she desperately tried to grab something to steady herself but caught only air, stumbling straight toward Su Zhuoguang in the opposite corner.
She had no time to regret why she had chosen to sit diagonally across from him.
By the time she tumbled into his arms and the carriage steadied, she realized the fabric clenched in her hand was neither her own clothes nor the white robe.
It finally dawned on her—she had grabbed Su Zhuoguang’s lapel and pulled it downward.
**