The summer heat was unbearable, and this was the hottest hour of the day. Wen Ning suggested sending a sedan chair to carry Madam Song and Wen Qing down the mountain. Wen Qing was about to refuse, but Madam Song tugged at her sleeve. “Today’s incense offering is nearly done. Let’s go together!”
How laughable—clearly taking advantage, yet Madam Song spoke as if she were thinking of Wen Ning’s well-being.
Wen Ning did not argue. She simply ordered a sedan chair, and together they descended the mountain.
Wen Ning escorted Wen Qing all the way home. At the gate, Madam Song politely said, “Would you like to come in for tea?”
Wen Ning smiled: “In that case, I’ll trouble you.”
Madam Song froze—she had only spoken casually.
But Wen Ning lifted the curtain and stepped inside. Suddenly, from within came indistinct, intimate sounds.
“Thieves!” Wen Ning cried. Before anyone could react, she loudly ordered the Duke’s household servants: “Seize the intruders inside! Bold indeed, to steal from my sister’s home!”
“Wait…” Madam Song shouted anxiously, but no one listened.
The guards kicked open the door. Wen Ning’s lips curved in a triumphant smile, just as a warm palm blocked her view.
“Madam, do not look upon impropriety.” The familiar cool voice was deep and resonant—it was Shen Zhou.
Wen Ning felt a flicker of disappointment, but then a shriek pierced the air.
“Ah!!!”
From inside came Liu’er’s scream, followed by Song Yan’s furious roar: “Who allowed you in here? Get out!”
Wen Ning could not see what was happening inside, so she relied on Xiao Tao’s whispered commentary.
“Miss, it’s Young Master Song and Liu’er… tsk tsk, the two of them are naked!”
“Ah…” Wen Ning cried out in feigned surprise. Shen Zhou’s gaze darkened as he shot Xiao Tao a warning glare, frightening her into clapping her hands over her mouth.
Wen Qing finally forced her way through the crowd. Seeing the scene before her, she went hysterical, lunging forward to seize Liu’er’s hair and slapping her hard several times.
“I’ll kill you, you wretched slut! How dare you seduce Yan Lang—I’ll kill you!”
Liu’er clutched the blanket, sobbing: “It’s not like that—I was forced…”
Song Yan, hearing this, quickly cut her off. He was on the eve of his examinations—if word spread that he had coerced a woman, his future would be ruined.
“Stop!” Song Yan shouted at Wen Qing, pulling her away and shielding Liu’er behind him, soothing her gently. “Don’t be afraid. Since I’ve taken your body, I won’t abandon you.”
Liu’er’s heart sank to ashes. She lifted her eyes to steal a glance at Shen Zhou, but he did not spare her even a look—his attention was wholly on Wen Ning, shielding her from seeing anything improper.
Closing her eyes, Liu’er resigned herself: “In that case, I ask Young Master Song and Madam to take my contract and bring me into the household.”
Wen Ning shook her head: “The contract isn’t with me.”
Song Yan reassured her: “Don’t worry. I’ll speak with Mother-in-law and retrieve your contract.”
Only then did Liu’er’s sobbing quieten. But Wen Qing’s eyes widened in disbelief—she could not accept that Song Yan would treat her this way. “Yan Lang, you…” She burst into tears and ran out. Song Yan’s head throbbed as if splitting.
“Have you seen enough?” Shen Zhou looked down at Wen Ning, pressing a cup of honey tea into her hands.
Her fingertips brushed the cool porcelain, and she exclaimed in surprise:
“This… what is this?”
“Lan Ting Residence’s honey tea. Didn’t you say this morning you wanted some?”
Wen Ning lifted her gaze to him. Her eyes shone clear and bright, her voice tinged with delight.
“So… you bought this especially for me?”
Shen Zhou: “Who else would it be?”
Did he look like someone who enjoyed drinking this stuff? He had gone early in the morning to Lan Ting Residence to queue for honey tea just for her. Yet when he returned home, the servants told him she had gone out to collect rent. Unable to rest easy, he went to find her. Fortunately, he had arrived—otherwise, what might this little girl have seen? Truly, she never let him relax for even a moment. In broad daylight, and Song Yan was supposed to be a scholar—shameless.
Shen Zhou brought Wen Ning home. Sitting together in the carriage, Wen Ning sipped her honey tea, her eyes curving with satisfaction as she smiled brightly. “Heir, where shall we go next?”
Her smile dazzled him. His voice softened with amusement as he asked:
“Where do you want to go?”
Wen Ning thought carefully: “Why don’t we visit Brother Zilang? Last time he said we should come when we had time.”
Shen Zhou’s good mood instantly soured at the mention of “Brother Zilang.”
Again with Brother Zilang. Had Brother Zi Lang rescued her when she was in danger? Had he risen before dawn to queue for honey tea for her? He treated her so well, yet her heart still turned toward outsiders.
Shen Zhou grew restless, unwilling to respond.
But the little girl hadn’t noticed, leaning closer to say: “Brother Zilang said his family has a farm. This season, catching fish is the most fun…”
“Enough.” Shen Zhou cut her off irritably. “If Zhou Zilang is so wonderful, then marry him!”
Wen Ning froze. “Heir…”
Already agitated, hearing her call him “Heir” only stoked his anger. Why did she call Zhou Zilang “Brother,” yet to him she only said “Heir”?
But faced with her innocent, wounded eyes, he could not voice his true feelings. Instead, he lifted the carriage curtain and leaped out, fleeing in confusion.
Leaving Wen Ning inside, bewildered. Was this… his monthly mood swing?