The honey-colored gauze bed curtains were gently drawn closed, with a silver sachet hanging at each end of the bed, faintly emitting a quiet, sweet fragrance.
Outside, the rain crashed with earth-shaking force. Inside, Xu Qiaoxi lay on her side in deep sleep.
Having cried too fiercely, her head ached slightly, and a shallow crease of unease furrowed between her brows.
Xie Jilian quietly lifted the gauze curtain, glanced at her sleeping form, and unfastened his cloak.
The cloak was wide and voluminous, woven from pheasant feathers—snow would not soak through it, nor would rain penetrate it. Its inner silk-cotton lining still carried the warmth of his body.
He pulled open the blanket, draped the cloak over Xu Qiaoxi, and tucked it carefully around her, then drew the cloak's collar up to cover her sleep-warmed head.
Just as he was about to lift her horizontally in his arms, he suddenly noticed her pair of fair, bare feet.
Once out in the wind and rain, she would certainly catch cold.
Xie Jilian withdrew the hand reaching for her waist, lowered his head, and found Xu Qiaoxi's cotton socks.
The sock legs that reached her calves were held open between his thumbs and forefingers. The socks slid over her five toes, across the sole, past the ankle, and up to her soft calf. The ties wound around his fingertips and were deftly fastened.
The rough calluses on his fingertips inadvertently brushed against her, and the calf in his grasp twitched slightly.
Xie Jilian instinctively pressed down with his strength, then immediately released.
His gaze shifted to the pillow beside her—fortunately, she hadn't woken.
He let out an inaudible breath of relief and continued putting on her other cotton sock, then suddenly paused mid-motion.
What was he doing?
Matters as trivial as dressing her and putting on her socks could be left to the Wang family's maidservants. He was a young lord of the Chen Commandery Xie clan—and here he was, attending to a woman of no name or standing on her bed?
A thunderous realization crashed through Xie Jilian's mind, leaving only Xu Qiaoxi's long, even breathing and the violent clamor of the rainy night in his ears.
He did not know how long passed before her calf gradually grew cool. Xie Jilian resumed his movements, gently tying her sock garter.
He told himself: "Enough. Just this once."
Before long, Yu Pu, who had been waiting outside, finally saw his young lord emerge.
In his arms, he held a person tightly.
"Yu Pu, come hold the umbrella."
"Yes."
"Tilt it toward her—the wind will carry rain under the canopy."
Xie Jilian gave the order in a low voice, but between the night rain and the night wind, and being carried out from the warm chamber, Xu Qiaoxi opened her eyes despite her drowsiness.
"What are you—"
Xie Jilian lowered his gaze, his jaw brushing against the top of Xu Qiaoxi's head in a soothing gesture.
"We're going home."
As soon as they stepped into the rain, the wind seemed to pick up even more. Xu Qiaoxi was restless in his arms, her brow furrowing tighter and tighter as she burrowed her head into his chest, unable to hold back soft groans and whimpers of discomfort.
Fragment by fragment, each faint, weak syllable was like a small hand twisting and pinching Xie Jilian's heart—releasing, pinching, releasing, pinching…
He let out a barely perceptible breath and gently patted and soothed the person in his arms. "Qiaoxi, bear with it a little longer. Lian is taking you home."
Wang Yizhi had told his sister to rest for the night, and when he turned back, he saw that Xie Jilian had already carried Xu Qiaoxi into the rain.
He hurried after him, completely baffled by Xie Jilian's actions: "Why force this?"
"She cried and vomited all day, and hasn't taken any food or medicine. Never mind the headache from prolonged crying—her stomach and spleen can't withstand it either! And now, in this bitter wind and rain, you still want to take her back to Qianchuan Chunting? Why bother! It's not as if she can't stay here! A man of your keen intelligence—how could you commit such a foolish act?!"
Xie Jilian stopped in his tracks, his pair of amber-glass-like eyes looking through the curtain of rain beneath the umbrella at Wang Yizhi.
"Yizhi, I thank you for mediating with Situ Wen on Lian's behalf today. Tomorrow, when the rain stops, Lian will personally visit the Chu Jia Bieyuan to pay respects to Situ Wen. Would you be willing to come along and bear witness?"
"This…"
Among the aristocratic clans, even if not bound by kinship, they served as mutual shields for one another. For whatever reason, there was no need to burn bridges. Wang Yizhi had originally wanted to step in and mediate anyway, and since Xie Jilian was now willing, he naturally nodded.
Xie Jilian inclined his head in acknowledgment, held Xu Qiaoxi even tighter, turned, and left without looking back.
Wang Yizhi watched them board the Xie family's ox cart and vanish into the torrential rain.
A flash of insight struck him—he noticed something unusual about the cart.
The carriages of noble houses all hung wind chimes, ringing as they moved to proclaim their master's exalted status. But the wind chimes on Xie Jilian's carriage had been removed tonight, so the cart moved in utter silence—which was why Wang Mu'ai had mistaken the visitor for a barbarian bandit.
Even the ox's four hooves were wrapped in thick felt cloth, ensuring no sound of hoofbeats would disturb the person in the carriage.
"Xie Jilian…"
Wang Yizhi stood alone in the rain, murmuring in disbelief: "So you actually have a weakness."
The rain raged like a killer, and a sinister wind howled through Hongyu Terrace. Camellia blossoms as large as bowl openings fell one after another, splashing up the rainwater pooled beneath the trees, like heads dropping to the ground.
Throughout the journey, Xie Jilian shielded her with meticulous care, and after enduring her discomfort for a while, Xu Qiaoxi drifted back to sleep.
Xie Jilian sat sideways on the footstool beside her bed, motionless, quietly watching her.
His things. His charge. He would not allow them to be kept in another's home.
His fingers, damp with rain, were moist and cold. Xie Jilian slowly extended his index finger to Xu Qiaoxi's cheek, curiously poking at the slightly puffed flesh there.
Soft. And a little cold from just coming in from the rain.
He tilted his head, slithering close like a serpent to Xu Qiaoxi's breath, his amber pupils holding only a faint glimmer of light in the darkness of the night.
Like a drifting, eerie flame beneath deep water.
"Don't be angry at Lian."
"Forgive me this once, alright?"
Knowing she couldn't hear him, he still leaned in to say it. Stubborn as a spoiled child, as if she must agree to him.
His pinky gently hooked hers, Xie Jilian's gaze resting on Xu Qiaoxi's peaceful face, the corner of his mouth tugging with reluctance.
"Lian hasn't had his fill of fun yet."
The low, hoarse whisper was nearly inaudible amidst the rain, and Xie Jilian felt that no one but himself could hear his grievance. Yet—
On the couch, Xu Qiaoxi, dreaming of something unknown, moved her eyes beneath her lids, her lips murmuring, letting out one or two inarticulate sounds.
A ripple of unexpected delight spread across Xie Jilian's lips. His pinky hooked around her finger and gave it a little shake, as if emphasizing.
"You've agreed."
His index finger reached out to brush Xu Qiaoxi's eyelashes, the tiny hairs sliding across his fingertip like a fledgling's tender beak.
Xu Qiaoxi was better than that cold, lifeless White Jade Guanshiyin.
He had begged so earnestly, yet the statue gave him no guidance; a few whispered words in the rainy night, and Xu Qiaoxi gave him a response.
Whatever she said, Xie Jilian chose to believe she was answering him.
He kept vigil by her bedside, as if guarding a true little deity.
A God of Joy who could dispel his boundless loneliness.
The next day, the rain cleared and the sky brightened, but the atmosphere in Chu Jia Bie Yuan was off-beat, dragging along as if still stuck in yesterday.
Situ Wen had once been a great marshal of remarkable military achievements. Past fifty, his frame remained imposing. Seated in the main hall, he stroked his beard and glanced sidelong, fury simmering within while his face remained as calm as a still lake.
"Two young nephews need not say more. This old man cares about only one thing: has the woman who scalded my son confessed and accepted her punishment?"
He had fathered a son late in life, with Wen Shuo as his only child, cherished like a pearl. With the candle burn this time, and uncertainty over whether his son could ever serve at court or face the emperor, Situ Wen had no intention of giving the Wang and Xie families any leeway.
Wang Yizhi understood this well and spoke gently in persuasion: "Uncle Wen's distress over Beiyuan is entirely justified—even we close friends cannot bear to see such a horrifying wound. But… everything has its cause and effect."
"Lingjia and Yifang just explained as well: Beiyuan, under the influence of the Powder, had lost control of his senses and happened to collide with my younger sister and Lingjia's young wife during their incense offering. By that logic, Beiyuan is not entirely blameless."
Situ Wen's hawk-like eyes slanted toward the folding screen nearby, behind which Wen Shuo lay sprawled on a small couch. Likely because the effects of the Five Minerals Powder had worn off, he seemed utterly listless, showing no reaction even to Xie Jilian and the others' words.
"Hmph. Twisting words."
Situ Wen withdrew his gaze from his son and looked Wang Yizhi up and down. "The son Wang Jing raised is truly Luoyang's number one good-natured fellow. In the end, isn't it just a concubine? Drag her out and beat her to death—that settles it."
Wang Yizhi was left speechless, with no further words to ease the tension, so he could only look to Xie Jilian.
The two of them had been trading veiled barbs, yet Xie Jilian sat calmly sipping his tea, giving no response for a long while.
Wang Yizhi pondered—could it be that the aristocratic scions were fickle by nature, and that today he no longer treasured Xu Qiaoxi?
Before Wang Yizhi could figure it out, Xie Jilian set down his teacup and asked flatly: "Situ Wen proposes beating Lingjia's young wife to death to vent Beiyuan's grievance—a life for a wound. May I ask whether our dynasty has such a legal precedent?"
If personal sentiment left no room, then let it be handled by the letter of the law.
Situ Wen burst into hearty laughter. "Lingjia, having become Shangshu Puye, is indeed different now. You intend to debate legal principles with your uncle?"
"Then let me ask you—'distinction between gentry and commoners'—is that not our dynasty's legal principle? A lowly concubine wounded the son of a Situ. Is it not permissible for me to demand her life in return?"
Situ Wen's expression turned abruptly cold and hard, like the glint of chilled iron.
Xie Jilian smiled faintly, nodding his head toward him in a show of deference and respect.
"Naturally, it is permissible. However, our dynasty has always used the 'fine penalty decree' as the standard for handling such disputes. When a commoner harms a gentry member, monetary compensation suffices as punishment. If Situ Wen insists on going his own way, that would border on tampering with our dynasty's laws."
"Who's tampering with our dynasty's laws?"
Suddenly, a somewhat youthful male voice came from beyond the door.
Seeing who had arrived, Situ Wen rose in surprise to greet him, and even Wen Shuo was helped out by his servants.
"Your Majesty, how fare you? Why have you come here?"
Sima Zhi clasped his hands behind his back, his slender shoulders twisting playfully—at fourteen, still very much a half-grown boy.
"I heard that Young Master Wen was injured yesterday, so I came specially to pay a visit."
He turned, his gaze sweeping across the four people before him. "But just now, I overheard someone saying…"
"No, no!" Situ Wen cut in hastily, shaking his head emphatically. "Your Majesty misunderstands. Your subject was merely discussing legal principles with these two young nephews—there is no intent to tamper with or abandon the law."
"Oh—" Sima Zhi drew the syllable out, languid and carefree: "Alright, alright, discuss away. I want to hear Situ Wen's esteemed opinion at court tomorrow."
With that, he immediately crouched before Wen Shuo, staring unblinkingly at his bandaged wound.
"Young Master Wen, this wound is truly shocking. How did it happen?"
"I, I… I forgot."
Wen Shuo hadn't lied a single word. He truly had forgotten.
As soon as he heard Xie Jilian's message relayed, he was so delighted he drank a large cup of warm wine, washing down the Five Minerals Powder with it. Once the blood rushed to his head, he couldn't make sense of anything.
He did remember that Xu Qiaoxi was the one who did it, but why she did it and how she did it—he had completely forgotten. His mind was now a muddled mess.
"Did Beiyuan truly have no awareness at that time? Do you remember saying anything, or mentioning anyone?"
Xie Jilian suddenly asked him, his gaze full of concern. But at that critical moment, how could he have any mind to bring up others!
Wen Shuo shook his head, which pulled at the wound on his neck. The pain made him want to cover it, yet he dared not. His contorted expression made Sima Zhi burst into loud laughter.
Amid the relaxed atmosphere, the stone hanging over Xie Jilian's heart finally settled.
With Sima Zhi stepping forward to mediate, Situ Wen ultimately accepted Xie Jilian's proposal of monetary compensation.
The group lingered joyfully at Chuqia Bieyuan, drinking well past noon before going their separate ways.
By the time Xie Jilian returned to Hongyu Terrace, the sunlight had shifted westward. In the brilliant golden glow, Xu Qiaoxi sat on the steps with her hair loose, her figure gilded with a layer of loneliness by the slanting rays.
Draped over her arm was his great cloak, and she wore only her inner garments—she appeared to have woken not long ago. Lan Yan stood behind her, combing through her long hair while murmuring softly.
"Don't worry yourself. What if it's not as bad as you think?"
"The young master treats you so well—how could he not protect you?"
"Maybe some sunshine will lift your spirits?"
Xie Jilian stepped forward, and Xu Qiaoxi's peripheral vision caught him at once. Before he could even draw near, she shot to her feet, her eyes fixed straight on him.
Within the blankness lurked a quiet sorrow.
Xie Jilian did not call attention to her unusual state. Instead, he asked with a gentle smile, "Is your body feeling better? Have you eaten anything?"
Xu Qiaoxi shook her head.
"Lan Yan, prepare a meal tray," Xie Jilian instructed, then said to Xu Qiaoxi, "Would you like to eat something? Lian happens to have something to discuss with you."
"I have something to say to you too."
Xu Qiaoxi spoke almost on the heels of his words, as if this was something that must be said now or might never be said again.
Xie Jilian took his great cloak from the crook of her arm and draped it over her shoulders.
"It just rained, and the ground is damp. Don't underestimate the chill even with the sun out."
Xu Qiaoxi slowly lifted her head within the circle of his arms, her eyes pooling with a watery red that shimmered like scattered stars.
"Lingjia, I want to leave."