The spring night was long, with a bright moon hanging high in the sky.
The Yan River stretched wide, its waters vast and misty.
Several painted pleasure boats, ablaze with lights, drifted among the waves, scattering shimmering golden ripples like stars spilling into the water.
Far from the other boats, one pleasure boat lingered in the center, particularly spacious and luxurious.
Warm red curtains swayed, casting faint, graceful shadows.
Inside the boat, crystal lanterns stood scattered about. On a round table of ebony-edged rosewood sat two russet-red glazed candlesticks.
The wicks crackled softly, their flames flickering and illuminating the girl’s face—a beauty that would put peach blossoms to shame, make apricots blush, and outshine orioles and swallows.
Su Tan held a wine pot with her delicate, jade-like fingers, pouring a full cup before offering it to the handsome man reclining on the daybed.
“My lord, Mei Wu offers you a toast.”
Shen Xiuwang toyed with a string of coral beads, not even lifting his eyelids.
“Set it aside for now.”
Su Tan’s long lashes fluttered slightly, and she had no choice but to place the cup respectfully to the side.
If he wouldn’t drink the wine, perhaps he would eat some fruit.
She picked up a plump purple grape, carefully peeling it until sweet juice overflowed.
Hidden within her pink-white fingertips, a fine powder of medicine was silently brushed onto the fruit’s flesh, dissolving instantly without a trace.
“My lord, let Mei Wu feed you.”
The young girl leaned over the daybed, her snow-white bosom tightly bound, the alluring curves hinting at hidden charms, a feast for the eyes.
It was not Su Tan’s intention to dress this way—this outfit was already the most conservative she had.
Shen Xiuwang lifted his eyelids to look at her, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips. “A girl from the Fragrant Pavilion doesn’t know how to serve a man properly?”
His gaze seemed to say: Did I spend ten thousand gold just to eat grapes?
Su Tan stiffened slightly.
As their eyes met, there was nothing left unsaid.
The man before her was of unparalleled status and appearance, and when he looked at her with such casual indifference, it stirred an inexplicable fear within her.
So be it. Without offering something, she wouldn’t be able to escape tonight.
If he wouldn’t drink the wine or eat the fruit, the only option left was the sedative mixed into her lip rouge.
Su Tan smiled sweetly, the vermilion mole at the corner of her eye glowing vividly as she slowly leaned closer to him.
Her breath was as fragrant as orchids. “My lord jests. Mei Wu will do her utmost to serve you well.”
Shen Xiuwang watched her with leisurely composure, his reclining posture unchanged, as if unmoved.
An unspoken standoff seemed to form between them.
One feigned seduction but hesitated to kiss; the other was certain she wouldn’t dare.
Her soft, moist pink lips were now within reach, the unique fragrance of her body lingering at the tip of his nose.
She wore no perfume.
The secret arts taught to the girls at the Fragrant Pavilion were indeed intriguing.
Outside the pleasure boat, fireworks soared into the sky, blooming in brilliant reds and purples, a dazzling display of color and light.
The fireworks were the signal—everything was proceeding smoothly, waiting only for her escape.
Su Tan steeled herself, tightened her fingers, closed her eyes slightly, and turned her head to press a kiss against his slightly pursed lips.
Shen Xiuwang’s body stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing lightly as the warm, soft touch of her lips met his.
It was like a rain-soaked cherry blossom petal brushing gently past, stirring delicate ripples.
In that fleeting moment, two sharp arrows whistled through the air, hurtling toward them.
Su Tan felt a sudden weight around her waist as the man’s strong, muscular arm wrapped around her, pulling her down completely.
“Mmph.”
Her soft bosom pressed against his firm chest, and the kiss on his lips abruptly deepened, forcing her teeth to part slightly before accidentally biting his lower lip.
The taste of blood instantly spread in her mouth.
“Whoosh! Whoosh!” The arrows embedded themselves into the carved pillar beside the daybed.
Shen Xiuwang’s brows furrowed sharply as he swept his sleeve, sending two gusts of wind that extinguished the candle flames in an instant.
He rolled to his feet, and the warm, fragrant softness that had collided with him tumbled into the inner part of the daybed.
Two flashes of cold steel sliced through the air in response—blades clashed, shadows danced, and the fight began in earnest.
Su Tan shrank into the corner of the chaise lounge, gazing by the faint moonlight at the purple-robed man fighting barehanded against two masked assassins in black.
A single silver hairpin was his weapon—he didn’t even need to draw his sword. His movements were swift, each strike lethal.
Clang… The silver hairpin shattered the blade and shot straight into the assassin’s chest.
The other assassin lunged with his sword.
Shen Xiuwang spun and leaped up, swift as a hawk, his right hand twisting the man’s neck.
A crisp crack echoed, followed by the clatter of a longsword hitting the floor. The man crumpled like a ragdoll.
Silence fell.
Bright moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the imposing figure of the purple-robed man.
Faced with the sudden assassination and the corpses strewn about, Su Tan’s face turned deathly pale, but she didn’t utter a sound.
Dead bodies—had she seen too few of those?
What truly shook her was Shen Xiuwang.
Faced with the assassins, this man didn’t even bother to interrogate them, leaving no survivors, killing them on the spot.
The reason was simple.
He had long known there would be an assassination attempt and who was behind it.
Such cunning and skill.
She thought, that little scheme of drugging him earlier—he had probably seen right through it.
There was no escaping tonight.
Moments later, two guards rushed into the Painted Pleasure Boat, and the candles were relit.
“Master, we deserve death!”
Shen Xiuwang pulled out a handkerchief and meticulously wiped his fingers, one by one. Though there was no blood, he still felt unclean.
“Chang Feng, Yuan Jing, since returning to the capital, have the two of you forgotten how to write the word ‘duty’?”
He snorted coldly. “Copy it a thousand times when we return to the estate!”
The two men stiffly acknowledged the order, gesturing for those behind them to remove the corpses.
Their master’s thoughts were unpredictable—they’d rather take military punishment than pick up a brush to write.
Truly a “cruel punishment”!
Chang Feng clasped his hands, holding his sword. “Young Master, there are no more assassins outside, but we’ve captured someone acting suspiciously.”
Shen Xiuwang let out a careless “oh,” glancing sideways at the girl shrinking on the chaise, her face pale but feigning composure.
“Bring them in for a look.”
Su Tan’s slender frame trembled slightly. When she saw who was being dragged in, her heart sank into an icy abyss.
Kneeling on the ground, dressed in servant’s attire, was none other than the white-robed qin master from Fragrant Pavilion—Qin Huai.
Shen Xiuwang tossed aside the handkerchief and sat in the purple sandalwood chair carved with peonies and phoenixes, looking down from above.
He spoke nonchalantly, “Such a small Fragrant Pavilion truly hides dragons and tigers. First, the courtesan drugs me, and now the qin master attempts an assassination.”
Qin Huai looked up in panic, pleading, “Your Excellency, please investigate clearly. Mei Wu and I never intended to assassinate anyone.”
“Oh? If not assassination, then what did you intend?”
“I…” Qin Huai clenched his fists, wanting to shoulder the blame for Mei Wu.
Seeing his willingness to accept punishment, Shen Xiuwang flicked his wide sleeve. “Since you can’t give a reason, then kill him.”
Su Tan’s heart tightened. She quickly rose from the chaise, lifted the hem of her trailing skirt, and hurried forward. With a thud, she knelt before Shen Xiuwang.
“Your Excellency, please investigate clearly. Tonight’s events were truly Mei Wu’s fault, but Qin Huai and I are not aligned with those assassins.”
Shen Xiuwang raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. “Then whose side are you on? Trying to drug this Military Governor so you can fly away together?”
Su Tan clenched her palms tightly, her nails digging into her tender flesh. Her red lips moved as she prepared to reply.
But Shen Xiuwang had little patience. With a wave of his hand, he signaled Chang Feng to drag the man away.
Given the situation, it seemed he was determined to kill.
“Your Excellency!”
Su Tan knelt and shuffled forward, her delicate hand clutching the corner of his wide sleeve.
The luxurious purple robe made her slender fingers appear even paler.
Tears she had been holding back finally spilled from her eyes.
“Mei Wu knows she was wrong, and should not have used such means against you, my lord. However, Qin Huai is not at fault. He only could not bear to see me trapped in the mire and thus helped me escape.”
The beauty wept like pear blossoms in the rain, her eyes and the tip of her nose tinged with red as she looked up at him. “If my lord insists on killing someone to vent your anger, then kill me.”
Having stumbled into this world and endured eight years of bitter hardship, the life values and principles Su Tan had built in her previous life had long been worn down to almost nothing.
For those bearing a lowly status, life and death lay entirely in the hands of those in power, decided by a mere whim.
Being treated as goods or livestock, clearly priced and traded, even survival was a luxury.
What dignity? What equality?
She knew Shen Xiuwang understood they were not assassins, and she also knew the knockout drug was prepared for the patrons entering the Painted Pleasure Boat, not specifically for him.
Yet he was in a foul mood, and if he wished to kill, he would kill.
Su Tan wanted to escape, to break free from this devouring cage, to grasp a sliver of hope for life.
Now that hope was shattered, she should not drag kind-hearted people down with her.
She was unwilling, or perhaps she was gambling.
Shen Xiuwang’s brow lifted slightly.
The young girl pleading with him, her eyes brimming with tears, seemed to be begging for mercy, or perhaps for release.
In this life, he disliked women’s tears the most—they were troublesome.
His thumb pressed heavily against the cinnabar mole at the corner of her eye, his thin lips parting as he spoke with a malicious tone.
“Cry again, and I will truly kill you.”