The day after Yuanbao arrived, Shen Jin discovered something rather amusing. This cat wasn’t just good at eating and sleeping—it had another talent: It could *provoke people*.
The trouble began when Madam Zhou came to “visit” Jinse Pavilion. She called it a visit, but in truth, she was there to probe. Shen Jin’s performance at the Spring Banquet had already spread through the capital, and Madam Zhou couldn’t sit still—she wanted to see for herself what tricks her stepdaughter was up to.
When Madam Zhou arrived, Shen Jin was basking in the sun in the courtyard. Yuanbao sprawled across her stomach, fast asleep, belly to the sky.
“Jinshu,” Madam Zhou entered with a smile, “is your health better now?”
Shen Jin didn’t even open her eyes. “Much better. Thank you for your concern, Madam.”
Madam Zhou sat down on a stone bench, her gaze falling on Yuanbao. “Oh? Where did this cat come from?”
“A friend gave it to me.”
“What kind of friend?”
At last, Shen Jin opened her eyes and looked at her. “Just an ordinary friend.”
Madam Zhou’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes sharpened. “Jinshu,” she said, blowing gently on the tea her maid had handed her, “I heard you say something rather improper to His Highness the Crown Prince yesterday at the banquet?”
“What improper words?” Shen Jin blinked innocently.
“You said, ‘If something doesn’t belong to you, forcing it is useless.’”
“And what’s improper about that?” Shen Jin stroked Yuanbao’s head. “I think it makes perfect sense.”
Madam Zhou set down her teacup and spoke earnestly. “Jinshu, your feelings for the Crown Prince were known throughout the capital. Now you suddenly say such things—what will people think? They’ll say you’re just sour grapes, that you—”
Yuanbao suddenly sneezed right in Madam Zhou’s direction. Her words cut off, her face flickering with annoyance.
Shen Jin nearly burst out laughing but held it in. “Madam,” she said calmly, “what others think is their business. I can’t control it, and I don’t care to. All I know is that I’m happier now. Much happier than before.”
Madam Zhou studied her, eyes complicated. “You’ve truly let go?”
“Truly.”
“No regrets?”
“None.”
After a pause, Madam Zhou rose. “If that’s so, then I won’t say more. Just be sure you’ve thought it through.” She turned to leave—when Yuanbao leaped off Shen Jin’s stomach, ran to her feet, tail raised, and meowed.
Madam Zhou glanced down and stepped forward. Yuanbao hooked his claws into her silk skirt. *Rip—* The sound of tearing fabric rang loud in the quiet courtyard.
Madam Zhou looked down to see a neat hole clawed into her expensive skirt. Her face darkened instantly.
Shen Jin jumped up. “Oh no, Yuanbao! How could you scratch Madam’s skirt? So naughty!” Her words scolded the cat, but her tone held not a trace of blame.
Madam Zhou looked at Shen Jin. Shen Jin looked back. The two women locked eyes for a moment.
“Madam,” Shen Jin said sincerely, “how much was this skirt? I’ll pay for it.”
Madam Zhou drew a deep breath, forcing a smile. “No need. Just a skirt.” She hurried off with her maid. Once outside Jinse Pavilion, her face turned stormy. “That cat—who gave it to her?” she demanded of her maid, Bi Tiao.
Bi Tiao shook her head. “This servant doesn’t know.”
“Find out.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Madam Zhou looked down at the torn hem, teeth clenched. Shen Jinshu, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?
Inside Jinse Pavilion, Shen Jin hugged Yuanbao, laughing until she nearly doubled over. “Yuanbao! You’re amazing!” She kissed the cat. “Do you know what you just did? You tore Madam Zhou’s skirt! That was Shu brocade—worth dozens of taels of silver a bolt!”
Yuanbao squirmed, pushing her face away with a paw, thoroughly unimpressed.
Chun Tao, watching nervously, whispered, “Miss, won’t Madam cause trouble for us because of this?”
“What trouble?” Shen Jin lifted Yuanbao high. “It was the cat, not me. If she makes a fuss, people will say she’s quarreling with a cat. She’ll be the one embarrassed.”
Chun Tao thought it over and nodded. “That makes sense.”
“But… what if Madam tries to get rid of the cat?”
Shen Jin’s smile faded. That possibility—she hadn’t considered. Madam Zhou—on the surface gentle and virtuous, but beneath it all ruthless and calculating. If she truly wanted to get rid of Yuanbao, she would have plenty of ways.
“Chun Tao,” Shen Jin set Yuanbao down, “from today on, Yuanbao mustn’t leave Jinse Pavilion. No matter who comes, don’t let him out.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Shen Jin stroked Yuanbao’s head. The little cat purred and rubbed against her hand. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “as long as I’m here, no one can touch you.”
That afternoon, Shen Mingzhu came again. She had heard that Madam Zhou’s skirt had been torn by the cat at Jinse Pavilion, and she laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. “Elder Sister! Your cat is incredible! After Madam went back, she flew into a rage, scolded Bi Tiao, and even said she wanted the cat taken away!”
Shen Jin narrowed her eyes. “She wants to seize Yuanbao?”
“Exactly,” Shen Mingzhu wiped her tears of laughter. “But don’t worry—Father said it’s just a cat. If it tore a skirt, then it tore a skirt. No need to fuss over an animal. When Madam heard that, her face turned green.”
Shen Jin let out a breath. For once, her father was on her side.
“Elder Sister,” Shen Mingzhu leaned closer, “are you sure this cat wasn’t trained on purpose?”
“A three‑month‑old kitten? You think I could train it to claw skirts?” Shen Jin shot her a look.
Shen Mingzhu thought it over and nodded. “Then it must be fate,” she said with a grin. “Even Heaven can’t bear to see Madam bullying you.”
Shen Jin didn’t answer. She watched Yuanbao chasing butterflies in the courtyard, but her thoughts drifted to Xiao Heng. Did he give her this cat as a casual gift—or was it deliberate? With his scheming nature, perhaps he really had trained Yuanbao to target Madam Zhou’s skirts. No, no. Yuanbao was only three months old. Impossible to train. It must be a coincidence. And yet… Shen Jin couldn’t shake the feeling. Xiao Heng never did anything without a reason. If he sent this cat, there had to be some purpose she hadn’t uncovered.
By evening, Shen Jin was in the small kitchen, cooking shredded potatoes with vinegar and chili and tomato scrambled eggs.
Tomatoes—called *fan shi* in ancient times—existed in the original body’s memory but had never been eaten. Shen Jin had spotted them at the market and bought a few. The potatoes, stir‑fried with vinegar and chili, came out crisp, sour, and spicy. The tomato eggs were sweet‑tart, bright red and yellow, appetizing to look at and delicious to taste.
Chun Tao couldn’t stop eating. “Miss, did you secretly take a master chef as your teacher in a dream?”
“I told you—I dreamed it. Believe me or don’t.”
Chun Tao, of course, didn’t believe her. But she asked no further. Whatever the young lady said, that was how it would be. Some things, if pressed too clearly, only turned awkward.
After dinner, Shen Jin sat by the window with Yuanbao in her arms, gazing at the moon. The March moon was a slender curve, like a silver sickle hanging against the deep indigo sky. “Yuanbao,” she murmured, “why do you think Xiao Heng gave you to me?”
Yuanbao licked his paw.
“Was it to make me owe him a favor?”
Yuanbao yawned.
“Or was it so he could use you to know what I’m doing at any time?”
Yuanbao buried his head against her chest and drifted into sleep.
Shen Jin lowered her gaze to the carefree little creature and sighed. “Forget it. Asking you is useless. All you do is eat and sleep—you’re nothing like your master.”
Wait. Why had she just called Xiao Heng “master”? Yuanbao’s master wasn’t Xiao Heng. It was her, Shen Jin. The cat had been given to her. It was hers. It had nothing to do with Xiao Heng. She repeated that thought three times in her mind, then carried Yuanbao back inside to sleep.
At Dingyuan residence, Xiao Heng sat in his study, reading the secret report delivered by his hidden agents.
“Miss Shen has named the cat Yuanbao. Madam Zhou visited and had her skirt torn by the cat. Madam Zhou was displeased and wished to dispose of it, but General Shen stopped her. Miss Shen cooked shredded potatoes with vinegar and chili, and tomato scrambled eggs for supper. Afterward, she held the cat and watched the moon, speaking to herself for half an hour. Content unknown.”
Xiao Heng’s eyes lingered on the words *content unknown*, his brows knitting.
“Tell the agent to get closer.”
Steward Chen hesitated. “My lord, if they get any closer, they’ll be discovered. Miss Shen has been very alert lately—the agent says she seems to sense someone watching her.”
Xiao Heng was silent for a long moment. “Then don’t get too close,” he said at last. “But at least make sure to hear what she says.”
“…Yes.” Steward Chen withdrew.
Xiao Heng leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.
What had she said to herself? Half an hour of words—surely not a little.
Was she cursing him? Or thinking of him?
At the thought, Xiao Heng gave a wry smile. When had he become so restless, so unsure? Where was the decisive, calculating heir of the Marquis’s household?
Now, he couldn’t even sleep because of a woman’s murmured words to the moon. He was regressing, utterly.
Xiao Heng rose, walked to the window, and pushed it open. Tonight’s moon was a fine curve, just like her eyes when she had smiled at him in front of the carriage that morning. He stood there a long while, gazing at it. Then he closed the window and returned to bed. Tomorrow held serious matters. But before sleep claimed him, he gave his agents a new order.
Not “watch her closely.” But—“protect her. No one is allowed to harm her.”
When Steward Chen received the command, he froze for a long moment. Then he quietly passed it on.
The meaning was clear. Not surveillance, but protection. Not curiosity, but care.
Steward Chen lifted his eyes to the moon and sighed inwardly. My lord, you’ve fallen. Completely, irreversibly fallen.