The gap in the door of Jingyou Pavilion was like a crack in time, allowing a glimpse into another moment.
Chu Huaian stood in the shadows, watching the two people in the courtyard squabble over a tree branch like children, watching Chu Liyuan clumsily get scratched, and watching Lin Yao tear off the inner lining of her undergarment without hesitation to bandage him, and even… lower her head to gently blow on his wound.
That gesture, that expression, that look in her eyes.
If Chu Huaian had previously harbored a sliver of rational doubt about Lin Yao’s identity—after all, she treated him with cold unfamiliarity and wariness, making him suspect she might be a “stand-in” whose temperament had changed—then at this moment, watching her cup Chu Liyuan’s hand and blow on it, the last stone in his heart finally dropped, crushing him and leaving him bleeding.
She was Ayao, without a doubt.
Because Ayao was exactly this kind of innocent and fervent presence that had filled the most beautiful years of his childhood.
That had once been a privilege exclusive to him, the warmest light in his memories.
Now, that light was shining on someone else.
Chu Huaian pressed hard against the hard clay figurine in his chest through his clothes, as if trying to embed it into his body.
He took one last deep look at Chu Liyuan, who was blushing and at a loss in the courtyard, and the unwillingness and loneliness in his eyes settled in an instant into a thicker, darker gloom.
“…Fourth Brother.”
He silently mouthed the name, turned, and walked away, his back resolute yet tinged with obsession.
In the courtyard.
“Phew—all done.”
Lin Yao blew one last breath and looked at Chu Liyuan, who was still as stiff as a stone statue, secretly amused.
She let go of his hand and, as if coaxing a big golden retriever from next door, reached up and ruffled his hair: “Pat pat, no more scares. There, this little scratch won’t kill you. Remember not to get it wet when you go back.”
With that, as if she had just completed some trivial task, she dusted off her hands and turned to walk back inside: “No need to see me out. Remember to close the door on your way.”
“…”
Chu Liyuan stood rooted to the spot, feeling the patch of hair she had touched begin to burn.
He had lived twenty years, and no one had ever dared to touch his head.
Not his father, and his mother had died early. When he was young, no one wanted to get close to him; when he grew up, everyone was afraid of him—afraid of this wolf cub that might go mad at any moment.
But today, someone had not only bandaged his wound and asked if it hurt, but had also blown on it, and even… touched his head.
That feeling was strange.
It wasn’t unpleasant. Instead, it was like a warm current flowing from the crown of his head straight into that heart that had been parched for twenty years, stirring up a tingling ripple.
Chu Liyuan didn’t know how he made it back to his bedchamber.
Along the way, his injured left hand remained stiffly raised to his chest, guarded with utmost care.
The maids and eunuchs who passed by saw the Fourth Prince in such an odd state and all dropped to their knees in fright, assuming His Highness was practicing some sinister martial art again.
By the time he returned to his chambers, the night was deep.
Li Cai, his personal eunuch, saw his master return and hurried over to help him change. His sharp eyes immediately caught the crooked bandage on Chu Liyuan’s hand, stained with blood and dirt.
“Aiyo! What happened to Your Highness?”
Li Cai was startled and quickly fetched the medicine box: “This bandaging is too crude… This servant will remove it for you and clean and dress the wound properly!”
With that, Li Cai reached out to untie the ugly bow.
“Stop!”
Chu Liyuan, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, yanked his hand back and used his other hand to shield that “rag.”
“Your Highness?” Li Cai froze, holding the clean gauze, at a loss.
Chu Liyuan kept a stern face, but the tips of his ears were suspiciously red.
He glared at Li Cai, his tone fierce yet unnatural: “What do you know? This… this is something I’ve used personally. How could I let just anyone touch it?”
Li Cai was utterly bewildered: Used personally? This strip of cloth was already this dirty…
“Then… this servant will remove it and throw it away for you?”
“Throw it away?!”
Chu Liyuan panicked, shoved Li Cai aside, and turned his back. With extreme care and extreme slowness, he untied the bow bit by bit.
He clutched the dirty strip of cloth in his palm. It was stained with his blood, smudged with dust, and even had frayed edges where Lin Yao had torn it.
“Alright, you may leave. I’ll apply the medicine myself.”
After driving Li Cai away, the vast bedchamber was left with only him.
Chu Liyuan sat by the bed, and by the candlelight, he smoothed out the cloth strip bit by bit.
It was the fabric of her undergarment—soft, fine cotton—and it seemed to still carry the faint, cool scent of mint that lingered on her.
He looked at it for a long time, then clumsily folded it into a small square.
This was…
He thought for a moment, then found himself a high-sounding justification: “This is my future consort’s personal belonging. If a servant were to pick it up, what would that look like? It’s safer for me to keep it myself.”
Yes, that was it… It was for the sake of her reputation. Absolutely not because he couldn’t bear to part with it.
Chu Liyuan pulled open the hidden compartment beneath his pillow—the place where he kept several vials of life-saving medicine and concealed weapons for self-defense.
He casually swept those aside, clearing out the very center, the cleanest spot, and solemnly placed the folded, blood-stained cloth inside.
After doing all this, he lay on the bed, raising his injured hand. In the darkness, the Fourth Prince, whose name struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it, had a foolish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth—a smile he himself hadn’t even noticed.
On the afternoon of the third day, the sunlight was just right.
Chu Liyuan once again arrived at the entrance of Jingyou Pavilion. He stood at the door, straightened his robes, clutched something tightly in his hand, and took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
However, the moment the door opened, the sight before him nearly made his eyes pop out of his head.
Today, Lin Yao wasn’t lying on her chair airing out her messy hair. She had spread a bamboo mat on the ground and was “folded” upon it in an extremely bizarre, almost eerie posture—hands planted on the ground, hips raised high in the air, head hanging down between her arms.
What kind of sinister martial art was this? A variation of the Toad Style?
“Lin Yao?!” He strode over, his tone laced with shock and disgust. “What kind of trick are you pulling now? Lying on the ground like… like a dog!”
Lin Yao didn’t need to lift her head—she knew exactly who it was from the footsteps and that distinctive “mad dog barking.”
In this desolate Jingyou Pavilion, no one else could come and go freely except that “fiancé” of hers, Chu Liyuan.
Lin Yao held her pose without moving, her voice muffled as it came out: “This is called Downward-Facing Dog pose, get it? I’m doing Sun Yoga, stretching my muscles and bones.”
With that, she pushed up with her arms, smoothly retracted her stance, and sat cross-legged on the mat.
The moment she looked up, her sharp eyes caught Chu Liyuan trying to hide something behind his back.
“Brought something again?” Lin Yao extended her hand, palm up, and wiggled it as if demanding payment. “Don’t bother hiding it—I already saw it.”
Chu Liyuan’s movements froze, and he instinctively wanted to pull his hand back, feeling that what he held was a bit embarrassing to show. But then he thought—he’d stayed up the entire night for this thing, so why shouldn’t he give it to her?
“Hmph.” He let out a cold snort, feigning nonchalance as he shoved the object into her hand, chin raised high. “Here… take it. So you don’t have to go around with your hair all over the place. I just… wanted to show you my carving skills aren’t that bad.”
Lin Yao took it and looked.
It was a… wooden stick?
No, to be precise, it was an extremely smooth-polished, one end slightly thicker, the other slightly thinner, with no fancy carvings whatsoever—a stick so plain it was almost offensive.
“Pfft—” Lin Yao couldn’t hold it in. She laughed so hard she doubled over, waving the “stick” in front of him. “Chu Liyuan, did you… steal a chopstick from the imperial kitchen to give me?”
“Lin Yao!!”
Chu Liyuan’s handsome face flushed red with anger, the veins on his neck bulging.
He’d spent all that time sanding this hairpin, his hands covered in wood shavings. He’d even sawed off a piece of his finest precious wood—the one he’d been saving for years to carve into his royal seal once he was enfeoffed as a prince—and she called it a chopstick?!
“What the hell do you know?!” He roared in exasperation. “Open your damn eyes and look closely! This is top-grade golden-thread nanmu!! It won’t rot for a thousand years, won’t decay for ten thousand! What family uses golden-thread nanmu for chopsticks?!”
“Oh, oh, oh, golden-thread nanmu, golden-thread nanmu.”
Seeing that this big cat was about to have his fur ruffled, Lin Yao quickly smoothed things over. She raised this priceless “chopstick” and held it up to the sunlight.
Sure enough, under the sun, the surface of the wood revealed a flowing, golden-thread-like luster. It warmed to the touch—truly a fine item.
“Thanks, Fourth Prince.” Lin Yao flashed him a brilliant smile and casually gathered her hair together. “Perfect timing—Chuntao taught me how to put up my hair. I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it yet… but watch, I’ll show you!”
With that, she took the expensive “golden-thread chopstick” and twisted it around her head, left and right.
A flurry of frantic movements.
The result was a bun that was loose, wobbly, and leaning severely to the left, perched precariously on top of her head, with the golden-thread nanmu hairpin stuck diagonally through the middle, looking like it might topple over at any moment.
“Ta-da! How’s that?” Lin Yao shook her head, feeling quite pleased with herself.
“…”
Chu Liyuan watched from the side, closed his eyes in exasperation, and shook his head helplessly.
“Lin Yao.” He sighed, his tone carrying a sense of world-weariness. “You’d be better off just leaving it down, really! Right now… you look even more like a madwoman.”
Before he even finished speaking, the half-closed courtyard gate of Jingyou Pavilion was pushed open from outside.
A line of young eunuchs dressed in Eastern Palace attire filed in. They held trays high above their heads, covered with bright red silk cloth, looking especially garish against the gray, dilapidated little courtyard.
Leading them, the head eunuch, Eunuch Su, flicked his horsetail whisk and said respectfully, “Paying respects to the Fourth Prince and Miss Lin—”
“His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is deeply grateful that Miss Lin helped him recover a cherished keepsake he had lost for many years while at the Eastern Palace yesterday. Fearing that the incident may have startled your delicate self or harmed your fair countenance, he has specially sent this humble gift to soothe your nerves and express his gratitude…”