Hearing the commotion, Zhuyan hurried outside. Seeing that it truly was her young miss who had returned, her tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed, and the stone that had been weighing heavily on her heart all night long finally settled into place.
The previous day, Hongzhu had accompanied the young miss to the Master’s quarters, but the moment they stepped inside, Hongzhu had been dismissed and sent back.
Later on, the Master had sent men to announce that the young miss would not be returning for the night, placing guards around their courtyard to prevent anyone from leaving until just moments ago. Suspecting that something must have befallen her, Hongzhu had spent an agonizing night tossed about by anxiety and unease.
Four years older than Hongzhu, Zhuyan possessed a much calmer disposition. Though deeply worried, she hadn’t given in to shedding tears like the younger maid; instead, her heart had remained tightly coiled in a knot of worry.
Seeing Nanzhi return safely now, even the level-headed Zhuyan couldn’t help the slight redness that bloomed in her eyes.
Noticing that her young miss had changed into a completely different set of garments, with her long, raven hair loosely bound down her back, a sense of foreboding gripped Zhuyan’s heart, causing her brows to lock tightly together.
Hongzhu was carefree and had missed these subtle details, but Zhuyan’s keen eye caught every nuance immediately.
Opting not to question her right on the spot, Zhuyan maintained a composed expression as she stepped forward to greet her respectfully: “Miss, you’re back? Would this slave help you freshen up?”
Knowing that Zhuyan’s sharp intuition would inevitably pick up on the anomalies about her, Nanzhi offered no objection and gave a slight nod: “Mhm.”
Once they stepped inside the bedchamber, Zhuyan turned back to instruct Hongzhu: “Hongzhu, go see how breakfast preparations are coming along.”
“Sister Zhuyan, I’m right on it!” Suspecting nothing, Hongzhu beamed happily upon seeing her young miss returned and scurried out of the courtyard toward the kitchens.
Watching the young girl skip away, Zhuyan let out a helpless, quiet sigh—Hongzhu truly possessed a carefree heart. Turning back around, she walked further into the room.
“Zhuyan, sending Hongzhu away like that—is there something you wish to ask me?” Seated before the intricately carved pearwood vanity, Nanzhi gazed at her enviable, flawless reflection in the bronze mirror with a completely placid expression.
A corner of the bronze mirror reflected Zhuyan’s approaching figure.
Walking up to the vanity, Zhuyan picked up a wooden comb from the table and began gently tending to Nanzhi’s long tresses. “Miss, my little tricks could never escape your notice. You stayed away the entire night, and though I desperately wanted to look for you, the Master had the courtyard surrounded to keep us trapped inside.”
Nanzhi understood instantly. Her father had clearly done so to prevent her maidservants from searching for her and derailing his scheme.
“I spent the night with the Crown Prince,” Nanzhi stated casually, her voice completely even and calm, carrying the casual tone of someone discussing today’s weather.
“What?!”
Even the composed Zhuyan was struck dumb with shock, her hand pausing mid-motion over the hair. “Miss, could it be that you were—by the Crown Prince?”
“Zhuyan, I can no longer marry him.” Nanzhi’s voice drifted softly, light as a feather. Her long eyelashes lowered, casting a delicate shadow across her eyelids.
Clatter—
The wooden comb slipped from Zhuyan’s fingers, clattering onto the floor.
Her legs wobbled beneath her, and her eyes instantly reddened, overflowing with an intensity of heartache that could not be concealed.
She understood the hidden meaning behind her young miss’s words all too well. With only three months remaining before her wedding to Young Master Wen—a match born of true mutual affection—how could such a tragedy befall them?
Was heaven deliberately toying with them?
The shock in her eyes lingered for a long time, utterly unable to process how matters had spiraled into this irreversible state.
Recalling the Master’s suspicious actions from the previous evening, Zhuyan quickly pieced the puzzle together: this entire catastrophe was undoubtedly orchestrated by the Master himself!
Disregarding the comb lying on the floor, Zhuyan hurried forward, dropped to her knees before Nanzhi, and clasped her hands, only to discover that her young miss’s palms were freezing cold.
Without asking a single intrusive question about the harrowing details of the night, she chose to offer silent, unconditional comfort.
She feared that prying further would only be like sprinkling salt across her young miss’s fresh wounds.
Zhuyan knew that while Nanzhi appeared frighteningly composed on the surface, her heart must be bleeding inside. It broke Zhuyan’s heart just looking at her—how could the Master bear to treat his own flesh and blood with such cruelty?
“Miss, if you feel aggrieved, please cry.” A deep wave of sorrow filled Zhuyan’s delicate face. Crying it out was infinitely better than bottling it up inside.
Feeling the warmth radiating from her palms, Nanzhi squeezed Zhuyan’s hands back, lowered her gaze, and forced a silent, ghost of a smile: “Zhuyan, I am fine. Do not worry about me.”
“I wish to bathe.”
Zhuyan nodded, choking back a sob: “Miss, wait right here; this slave will have hot water sent in immediately.”
Rising to her feet, she quickly left the room, and before long, steaming hot water was prepared in the adjoining bathing chamber.
Nanzhi walked inside, with Zhuyan following closely behind, asking softly: “Miss, would you allow this slave to attend to you?”
She couldn’t bring herself to leave her young miss alone inside, terrified that she might succumb to despair and do something foolish.
Turning to the side, Nanzhi caught the flash of lingering worry in Zhuyan’s eyes and understood her intentions immediately.
Nanzhi shook her head: “Zhuyan, wait for me outside. Rest assured, I am not going to do anything foolish.”
She wasn’t the type of person to throw her life away just over the loss of her chastity; she still intended to live a long and fulfilling life.
Besides, none of this was her fault—she saw no reason to torture herself over it.
Zhuyan hesitated, her expression locked in a silent plea as her feet seemed glued to the floor, refusing to budge an inch.
“Miss, please let this slave stay and keep watch.”
Nanzhi remained unmoved, firmly turning down her request once more: “Zhuyan, I wish to be left alone for a moment.”
Seeing her young miss’s firm resolve, Zhuyan had no choice but to turn and step outside. Stationing herself right at the door without moving a single step away, she kept her ears pricked, straining to catch any sound from within.
Inside, Nanzhi stripped away her garments and stepped into the wooden tub, sinking slowly into the warm water.
In an instant, billowing plumes of steam drifted across her face, leaving tiny beads of moisture clinging to her long eyelashes.
Looking down at the scattered marks of passion staining her skin, she muttered a single phrase under her breath: “Beast.”
That hypocritical, scoundrel of a Crown Prince.
Nanzhi closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down.
Any regrets? She could no longer marry him.
It had been so close—just three short months away.
Why on earth did the Crown Prince have to show up precisely at a time like this?
Did she feel resentment? Bitterness? Yet what good would it do? The Crown Prince wielded boundless, towering power; any resistance against him appeared utterly pale and futile.
She deeply despised an era so devoid of human rights.
Fate was toying with her yet again, dangling hope before her eyes only to ruthlessly crush it to pieces.
Even though she kept telling herself not to dwell on it, the memory of Wen Tingyue’s radiant, overflowing joy on the day she had agreed to marry him flashed relentlessly through her mind, sending a dull, agonizing throb through a hidden corner of her heart.
Filled with swirling mist, the bathing chamber blurred her expression from view.
Suddenly, with a sharp splash, Nanzhi submerged her entire head beneath the surface of the water.
Startled by the abrupt noise outside, Zhuyan felt a surge of panic and called out anxiously: “Miss, are you alright?”
Raising her head back out of the water, Nanzhi replied, “I’m fine.”
Reining in her turbulent emotions, she scrubbed away every trace of the previous night’s filth, changed into fresh clothes, and stepped out of the room, leaving her gorgeous, damp locks cascading loosely down her back.
With every step she took, water droplets trickled down the tips of her hair, pattering softly onto the floor.
Seeing this, Zhuyan immediately rushed forward with a clean towel: “Miss, this slave will help dry your damp hair.”
“Mhm.”
Nanzhi seated herself by the window, watching the birds flutter freely among the tree branches outside. A faint trace of envy stirred deep within her bright, moon-clear eyes as she allowed Zhuyan to tend to her hair from behind.
Just then, an indignant, huffing voice rang out from outside the doorway: “Miss! They have gone entirely too far!”