Wen Ning had thought that when Shen Zhou returned and heard about Qiao Yanxin, there would surely be a storm. Unexpectedly, after listening, he only fell silent for a moment, then said lightly, “This is fine too,” and walked away.
Wen Ning was puzzled. From his manner, he didn’t seem to care much about Qiao Yanxin. Then why, in her previous life, had he eloped with her?
Before she could sort it out, Xiao Tao rushed in. “Miss, something’s happened—something terrible!”
Wen Ning stood up. “What is it?”
“The Duke has been injured. They say it’s very serious.”
Wen Ning wasted no time. She called Xiao Tao, rummaged through her chests for the finest medicine, and hurried toward Duchess Xu’s quarters.
In her haste, she didn’t watch her steps and collided head-on with someone. Just as she was about to fall, Shen Zhou’s arm circled her slender waist, pulling her into his embrace.
“Madam, are you all right?” His lazy voice was low and cool, yet with a trace of gentleness.
“Heir?” Wen Ning opened her eyes, clutching tightly at his robe.
The night was cool as water, starlight scattered like jewels. Shen Zhou’s features were already coldly handsome; under the moonlight, he looked even more noble.
*This man… truly a demon in beauty.* Wen Ning couldn’t help swallowing, her cheeks flushed crimson.
Shen Zhou looked into her sparkling eyes, his own face reddening. He sighed inwardly. *This little flirt!*
Without betraying his thoughts, he gently pulled his robe free, then teased her deliberately: “Madam, have you held me enough?”
At his words, Wen Ning straightened at once, coughing lightly, her voice soft as usual. “Heir, are you also going to see Father?”
Shen Zhou glanced at her with amusement, brushing the creases from his sleeve. “Mm.”
“Then, Heir, please go ahead first?” Wen Ning stole a look at him. Such a graceful, moonlit young lord—what if she couldn’t resist and threw herself at him? The more she thought, the less proper it seemed. Better to walk separately.
“No need. Let’s go together.” Shen Zhou pressed his lips, his gaze lingering on her before curving into a smile.
Wen Ning had no choice but to nod, obediently following behind him.
As they reached the flower hall, before even entering, they heard Shen Shen’s plaintive voice: “Madam, if my hand never heals, will you despise me?”
Duchess Xu answered patiently: “Rest assured, husband. Your hand will be fine.”
Wen Ning, hearing this, wondered—could Shen Shen’s hand be broken? She exchanged a glance with Shen Zhou, then quickly pushed the door open.
Inside, Duchess Xu sat boldly upon a grand chair, while the Duke leaned against her lap, weeping bitterly.
Wen Ning froze at the sight. Had she come at the wrong time? From the corner of her eye, she saw the Duke’s arm still intact—was it perhaps fractured?
“Father, what has happened?” Shen Zhou asked stiffly.
The Duke, seizing the chance to vent, shouted angrily: “Don’t call me father! I have no such disgraceful son as you…”
Duchess Xu interjected kindly: “Your father used the ointment sent by Qiao Yanxin—he had an allergic reaction.”
Hearing this, Wen Ning looked over—and indeed, the Duke’s wrist was covered in dense red rashes.
Shen Zhou was stunned. That ointment had originally been meant as Qiao Yanxin’s gift to Wen Ning.
If not for his mother saying Father’s hands and feet were cracked and taking the ointment away, then today it would have been Wen Ning suffering the allergy.
Shen Zhou glanced at Wen Ning. Her skin was like polished jade, her face smooth and fair—if that delicate complexion had broken out in rashes, how miserable would she have been?
At that moment, Shen Zhou felt a surge of gratitude that his mother had taken the ointment. His father was a warrior—rough hands were nothing to worry about. Lost in thought, he was startled by Shen Shen’s loud sobbing.
“Madam, my hand… Tell me, will it scar? You said you loved my hands most—whether holding a sword or a scroll, you adored them. But now…”
Duchess Xu blushed, quickly covering his mouth. “The children are here!”
Wen Ning, curious, looked over. Indeed, the Duke’s hands were more beautiful than a woman’s—long, slender, with distinct joints and strength.
Just as she was about to study them further, a figure blocked her view. She lifted her gaze to see Shen Zhou, his eyes slightly raised, looking at her with a faint smile, his tone lilting: “Do you like what you see?”
Wen Ning instinctively nodded, then realized and quickly shook her head, standing upright. “I didn’t see anything.”
Shen Zhou lowered his eyes, chuckling softly. This little girl—not only lustful, but a liar too!
Duchess Xu had the physician prescribe medicine for the allergy, then sent the two children back to rest.
All the way, Shen Zhou said nothing. Wen Ning thought he must be troubled by the matter of Qiao Yanxin’s ointment causing his father’s allergic reaction. Not knowing how to comfort him, she simply followed quietly at his side.
Suddenly, Shen Zhou turned back and asked: “Lanting Pavilion has just brewed fruit wine. Would you like a cup?”
Indeed, he felt a little guilty. He feared Wen Ning might be angry with him—after all, Qiao Yanxin had sent the ointment because of him, and it nearly harmed Wen Ning. He wanted to please her, but didn’t know what she liked. Then he remembered: a few days ago, while reading storybooks, he’d seen that to win a young lady’s favor, one could take her to look at the stars.
Shen Zhou didn’t understand—what was so interesting about stars? But when he looked into Wen Ning’s clear, luminous eyes, his heartstrings stirred. Perhaps he should try?
Still, just stargazing seemed dull. Zhou Zilang had said Lanting Pavilion’s new fruit wine was sweet and sour, good for beauty. Shen Zhou had already bought some but hadn’t given it to her yet.
Unfortunately, Wen Ning knew nothing of his thoughts. She assumed Shen Zhou was heartbroken over Qiao Yanxin and was now looking for excuses to drink.
He had helped her several times; now that he was troubled, even if he didn’t ask, Wen Ning felt she should comfort him. After all, Shen Zhou was just a young man, inexperienced in the world—being tangled in love was normal.
Thinking this, Wen Ning looked at him with gentle compassion, speaking softly, as though afraid to startle him: “All right. If you want to drink, I’ll drink with you.”
Shen Zhou watched her, feeling something was strangely off.