Xiao Jingchen lowered his gaze, studying the painting in his hands. His eyes flickered slightly. “I mean… this painting is quite good. Beautiful, in fact.”
His long, defined fingers traced across the painting, pausing gently at one spot.
“This stroke here… lacks a bit of strength,” he said suddenly, his clear voice cutting sharply through the quiet hall, yet he didn’t lift his head.
Wen Shuyu, at some unnoticed moment, had already moved gracefully to his side. “Let me see.”
She leaned in slightly, inching closer, the tips of her dark hair carrying a faint, lingering scent of cold plum blossoms, brushing delicately against the sleeve of Xiao Jingchen’s robe resting on the desk.
Her hand, concealed beneath the wide sleeve, brushed lightly against his arm, almost as if by accident.
Through the thin fabric, warmth transferred subtly.
Xiao Jingchen’s fingers stilled for the briefest moment, his fingertips twitching, eyes under his lashes darkening just slightly.
“Prince Brother, look here.”
Wen Shuyu pointed at the contours of the mountains and rocks. “This part is excellent. If you add just one splash of ink, it will truly bring out the spirit of the painting.”
As she spoke, her warm breath brushed against the inner side of his wrist, light as a feather, right over the most sensitive, private spot.
Xiao Jingchen’s breath seemed to catch for an instant.
That faint, fragrant air, carrying her unique plum scent, wrapped around his pulse.
The space around them seemed to freeze.
His Adam’s apple moved as he looked at her. Her gaze remained fixed on the painting, her profile softened in the sunlight, almost unreal—as if the near-seducing gesture moments ago was merely a trick of his imagination.
Finally, he cleared his throat, preparing to speak.
Just then, Wen Shuyu, as if suddenly realizing something, straightened abruptly, putting distance between them.
The distracting scent vanished with her.
Coincidentally, a brush slipped from the desk with a “clatter.” She bent to pick it up and, somehow, tripped a few steps.
Suddenly, she fell into Xiao Jingchen’s arms, pressing against his waist, the fragrance overwhelming once more.
“Prince Brother, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to,” she stammered.
She hurried to stand, but her hands, just like before, brushed somewhere they shouldn’t have.
“Hng…” Xiao Jingchen let out a muffled sound, ambiguous—pain? Pleasure? Neither?
Flustered, she fussed over him. “Prince Brother, are you alright?”
Leaning down slightly, her lips grazed his jaw, light as a dragonfly’s touch.
“I-I’m so sorry… truly, it’s my clumsiness,” she apologized, panic threading through her voice.
After a string of these movements, Wen Shuyu heard a voice rarely heard from the usually composed Xiao Jingchen, each word slow and deliberate, teeth gritted: “Wen… Shuyu.”
“Out!”
His eyes, dark and deep, seemed to devour her.
“Or… perhaps you intend not to leave this study today—”
“Bang!” The sound of the door slamming shut cut him off. Wen Shuyu had dashed away faster than a rabbit, vanishing from the room the moment he uttered the first word.
She didn’t forget to leave behind a few innocent, caring words:
“Prince Brother, wait! I’ll fetch the imperial physician for you. I forgot to take my Giyuan Pill today; I feel a bit weak. I’ll rest first.”
Turning, her lips curved into a fleeting smile.
Not long after, the imperial physician arrived in a hurry, carrying his medicine box. “Your Highness, where are you injured?”
Xiao Jingchen smiled, irritated.
“Do you think I… am sick?”
His voice was calm, as usual, yet the strange aura around him made the physician’s beard tremble.
The physician shook his head. “No, no, not at all.”
Xiao Jingchen rubbed his head, inhaled deeply, and commanded: “Prepare water. I shall bathe. Your presence is no longer required here; you may leave.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the physician hurriedly replied, bowing before retreating.
In the white jade pool, water rippled as Xiao Jingchen lifted his head. His black hair, soaked, clung to his lean back. Drops slid down the sharp line of his jaw, over his rolling Adam’s apple, some falling onto the poolside tiles, leaving dark stains.
After some time, he donned his inner robe and asked Mo Yu, waiting outside, “Where’s Wen Shuyu?”
“She returned to the Plum Garden and is currently dining,” Mo Yu replied.
Xiao Jingchen murmured oddly, “She certainly eats well.”
Mo Yu scratched his head, puzzled. His Highness didn’t seem pleased… Had the princess angered him again?
Before he could figure it out, he heard his lord’s voice again:
“Send someone to buy all the currently fashionable hairpins from the city’s jewelry shops for the princess. She’s been fond of wearing hairpins recently.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Mo Yu replied immediately.
Just as he turned to leave, he was called back.
Xiao Jingchen paused, thinking. “Make sure they’re the kind that glimmer in sunlight. She seems to prefer those.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Mo Yu bowed.
That evening, when Wen Shuyu received two large boxes of hairpins and jewelry, she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips.
Finally, after her persistent efforts, Xiao Jingchen had sent her gifts—it was proof her recent plans were bearing fruit.
Xiao Liu excitedly circled around her. “Master! All of this is from Xiao Jingchen? Let’s open it, Master!”
Wen Shuyu lifted the lid of one box, only for her smile to falter abruptly.
“Master, the other box should be fine,” Xiao Liu said, though its grin froze as well.
They opened the second box…
A strange silence fell over the room.