Shen Zhixi narrowed her eyes, cutting off her train of thought.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know Tang Zhou had a good figure, but through clothes, she could only see his chest. Without them, his physique still differed from what she had imagined—it was even better than she had thought.
Though it was only a silhouette, even just a shadow was enough to stir the imagination.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist.
A slight turn of his body revealed a firm, well-defined chest…
Shen Zhixi leaned over the windowsill, studying Tang Zhou brazenly through the window.
The night breeze brushed gently against her cheeks, her hair dancing lightly in the wind, much like her own fluttering heartbeat. A smile spread across her lips as she laughed at her own luck—how fortunate she was to have stumbled upon such a rare find as Tang Zhou.
Tang Zhou picked up a towel, carefully wiping his chest.
Watching him, Shen Zhixi’s eyes filled with amusement, as if it were her own hand caressing his chest.
“What a shame,” she murmured.
It was a shame that people’s hearts were always prone to change. Today, she found Tang Zhou wonderful, but someday, she might grow tired of him. Otherwise, she truly felt the impulse to take him into her household as a husband.
Of course, he was no different.
Even if he gave his sincere heart and they truly built a life together, there was no guarantee he would love only her for the rest of his days.
Sincerity was the most useless thing, far less reliable than the silver by her side.
A man’s affection was even shorter-lived than a woman’s.
This had been true since ancient times—expecting a man to remain devoted to one woman was as difficult as climbing to the heavens. She had experienced it firsthand: her father was like this, and so was her childhood sweetheart. One could never rely on a man.
Across the way.
Tang Zhou’s body was too weak, so weak that he couldn’t stand for long.
After simply wiping away the bloodstains, he turned and fumbled his way to the bed to fetch clean clothes. He picked up the garments, identified them, and began to put them on, but in the end, he only held the clothes without actually wearing them.
The smile on Shen Zhixi’s face suddenly took on a different meaning. She thought he must have realized something by now.
To better play the role of a village girl, Shen Zhixi wore coarse cloth clothes. When she helped Tang Zhou up after they both fell during the day, he must have felt the texture of her clothes and noticed the difference.
His current hesitation was likely due to his realization about the fabric.
But there was no rush—she would let this simmer a little longer.
Yuanyang came from the kitchen and stopped beneath her window. “Miss, the hot water is ready. You can take your bath now.”
“Alright.”
Shen Zhixi withdrew her gaze from Tang Zhou’s direction and turned to prepare for her bath.
In the opposite room, Tang Zhou finally put on the clothes, as there were no other clean garments to change into. Still, he felt uneasy wearing them. The doubts he had during the day when drinking the medicinal porridge now grew even stronger.
He sat on the bed, gently tying his belt.
As he felt the fabric of the wide sleeves, the more he touched it, the more unsettled he became.
Miss Lily wore coarse cloth herself, yet the clothes she gave him were all made of fine material. He had also felt the bundle on the bed—the other sets of clothes inside were equally high-quality.
Why?
Was it because she wanted to pretend to be poor but failed to do so convincingly, or…
The washstand was not far from the bed. The water in the basin, once clean, had turned red from the blood he had wiped away. The smell of blood drifted slowly, filling the entire room.
In a little while, Lily would likely come in to collect the dirty clothes for washing. He worried the pervasive smell of blood would offend her.
He stood up, fumbled to gather the dirty clothes, and moved forward.
Fortunately, the room was not large, and within a few steps, he reached the windowsill by the door. Just as he was about to push the window open, he accidentally knocked over the flowerpot placed in the middle of the sill, sending it crashing to the floor at his feet.
He withdrew his hand and crouched down.
Luckily, the flowerpot did not break, though a good amount of soil spilled out.
Setting the dirty clothes aside, he groped around to right the flowerpot, then carefully scooped the soil back in bit by bit.
Afterward, he picked up the flowerpot and placed it back on the windowsill.
In a daze, he caught a whiff of floral fragrance.
It was faint yet pleasant, and strangely familiar—the same scent that clung to Lily.
He lowered his gaze, tempted to touch the flowers in the pot.
But as soon as he reached out, memories of their intimate contact earlier that day suddenly flooded his mind. He blinked rapidly, feeling a pang of impropriety, and quickly withdrew his hand. Instead, he fumbled to push the window open, hoping to disperse the lingering scent of blood in the room.
Immediately, he turned back, crouched down, and picked up the clothes.
As he pushed the door open, Yuanyang happened to be passing by outside.
“Mr. Tang, why have you come out?”
Noticing the dirty clothes in his hands, Yuanyang immediately understood his intention and added, “Mr. Tang, you should rest properly. My… my sister said that such trivial matters should be left to us.”
She pursed her lips, nearly slipping up and calling her “mistress.”
Stepping onto the porch, she extended her hand toward Tang Zhou. “Mr. Tang, please give me the dirty clothes.”
“Alright,” Tang Zhou replied softly, handing over the clothes. “I just feel I’m troubling you both too much. For things I can manage myself, like this, I thought I could hang them on the door handle outside to save you some trouble.”
“Mr. Tang, you’re really too polite.”
Yuanyang took the clothes and began looking him up and down.
“But Mr. Tang, you truly look distinguished in these clothes. It’s no wonder my sister spent—”
“Herb.”
Shen Zhixi appeared just in time, cutting Yuanyang off.
Tang Zhou turned his eyes toward the source of the voice.
A sentence left unfinished always piqued curiosity even more.
“Mr. Tang, let me help you back inside.” Shen Zhixi stepped forward, standing beside Tang Zhou, and gently took his arm.
A breeze drifted by, carrying the fresh scent of her recent bath.
Tang Zhou’s eyelids flickered, and he instinctively lowered his gaze.
Ahead, Yuanyang walked away with a smile, carrying the dirty clothes, thinking to herself how perfectly matched her mistress and Tang Zhou looked together. She couldn’t help but start imagining Shen Zhixi’s future children.
“Miss Lily, I can tell by the feel of the fabric that it’s not ordinary. You really didn’t need to go to such lengths for me. I already feel deeply indebted, and I don’t want to burden you further with such extravagant luxuries.”
“Mr. Tang, you’re overthinking it.”
Shen Zhixi tilted her head, carefully studying his guilt-ridden expression.
Was he already feeling guilty?
What would happen later? This was only the beginning.
“These clothes didn’t cost much silver, Mr. Tang. Please don’t dwell on it. I’ve said it many times—all you need to do now is focus on recovering. Don’t worry about anything else.”
She spoke lightly, her words sounding as if they were true.
Yet Tang Zhou remained frowning, his expression troubled. He understood that unless she was truly pretending to be poor, buying these clothes and the medicinal herbs could not possibly be without burden.
At the same time, he knew that if she was determined to hide the truth, no amount of questioning would yield an honest answer.
Once inside the room, Tang Zhou was helped onto the bed.
“Then I shall let Young Master Tang rest well. Lily will not disturb you any further.” As she left, she casually took away the basin of bloodied water from the washstand.
Hearing the sound of the door closing, Tang Zhou finally relaxed completely.
A mouthful of blood that had been stuck in his throat seeped out from the corner of his lips.