Shen Shouyu’s voice remained as calm as ever, so calm it bordered on indifference. “Your innocence is of no use to me. Even if you were privately debauched and promiscuous, I could turn a blind eye and ignore it. But you must keep your affairs well hidden, leaving no room for gossip that would embarrass me in public… Clearly, you cannot do that.”
“I…”
Before she could finish speaking, Shen Shouyu cut her off. “No need to make excuses, nor to spout nonsense about how we are not yet married and I have no right to punish you. You were the one who schemed against me first, A Yin.”
At this point, Shen Shouyu’s voice took on a chill. “Do not deny the word ‘scheme.’ You chose me, presumably not because I appeared poor, helpless, and penniless… The cycle of karma dictates that when you harbor greed, you must be prepared to suffer its backlash.”
Having her words cut off, Jiang Yin felt a chill in her heart. Still, she tried her best to argue. “A Yin did indeed have designs on you, young master, but A Yin was not without her own sacrifices. It cannot be called greed.”
“No, A Yin,” Shen Shouyu refuted mercilessly. “The price I paid far exceeded satisfying your designs—it also satisfied your greed. And you, clinging to hope, gambled that I was foolish, wealthy, soft-hearted, and kind, allowing yourself to be deceived.”
Here, he paused, as if recalling something amusing, and let out a light chuckle before continuing. “Even your current predicament is the result of your greed for that thousand taels of silver—a consequence of your own actions.”
“…”
Though her thoughts were muddled with panic and her heart trembled, Jiang Yin clung to a shred of clarity and hurriedly explained, “A Yin only sought to preserve her life when she turned to you for help. Even if greed arose, it was because you, young master, actively tempted me with a high price—it was not A Yin’s true intention. And just now, A Yin agreed to your terms only because she had no other choice…”
Already struggling to breathe, speaking so much in one breath left her even more breathless. In her dazed state, she choked again and began coughing violently.
Her lungs burned, the air felt thin, her throat was scorching, and her knees ached from the friction.
Blindfolded, the tears brought on by her intense coughing soaked through the cloth, sticking wetly to her face—an unbearable discomfort.
…After only a few words, Jiang Yin was already on the verge of collapse.
Yet Shen Shouyu remained motionless, his actions and thoughts unknown.
Finally managing to stop coughing, Jiang Yin no longer attempted to explain herself. Instead, she hoarsely changed her plea. “A Yin doesn’t want it anymore… A Yin wants nothing at all. A Yin will return everything to you, young master… the silver notes, today’s jewelry… A Yin will give it all back… Please, young master, show mercy and let A Yin leave…”
“…Is that so?”
After a long silence, Shen Shouyu finally reacted.
He spoke softly, his tone betraying neither joy nor anger, and asked again, “Truly don’t want it anymore? Can you bear to part with it?”
From his words, Jiang Yin sensed a hint that he might let her go and hastily nodded in agreement. “I don’t want it, I don’t want it anymore!”
“…Hah.”
A light, almost imperceptible laugh, half-mocking, half-resigned.
After the laughter came a prolonged silence.
…Silence was the most unbearable.
Uncertain and trembling with fear, Jiang Yin couldn’t help but wonder: if he refused, what should she do?
Plead with him again?
Was pleading her only option?
No… she couldn’t always rely on entrusting her fate to his decisions.
…Tonight’s events are the best proof.
But what else could she do?
Knock him out? Kill him?
And then what?
Was she truly willing to risk her own life for the sake of freedom?
As she pondered, Shen Shouyu spoke.
His voice remained gentle, yet each word pierced like a needle, shattering the hope she had only recently kindled: “Once a deal is made, there is no room for regret. A Yin, you might want to think again about what integrity means, what it means to take responsibility for your own choices… If you can’t figure it out, I’ll teach you.”
As he spoke, he kindly draped a thin blanket over Jiang Yin, then sat on the floor beside her, pouring himself a cup of tea.
“Tonight, you will reflect carefully on your actions here. Once you’ve understood, come and explain it to me in detail.”
…
Ultimately unwilling to gamble with her life, Jiang Yin endured.
After kneeling all night, when she rose the next day, her knees were covered in bruises, her limbs so numb and weak she could barely muster any strength. She felt as if she had been dragged out of water, drenched in cold sweat, utterly disheveled and wretched.
She felt as though she was about to die, yet somehow, she clung to a thread of life and survived.
…Shen Shouyu was right—his money was indeed hard to earn.
When Xinyue came in to help Jiang Yin bathe, she didn’t dare say a word. Only as she was about to leave did she quietly comfort her: “The young master isn’t usually like this. Just bear with it, miss… It’ll be better in a few days.”
Too exhausted to respond, Jiang Yin nodded vaguely, thinking to herself that she couldn’t wait a few days—she had to leave.
This money was beyond her; she didn’t want to die.
…
Come to think of it, Shen Shouyu was patient too. While she knelt all night, he sat upright beside her, keeping watch.
Thus, neither of them slept that night.
After bathing, when Jiang Yin returned to bed, Shen Shouyu lay down beside her and casually placed a stack of banknotes by her pillow.
Having already suffered so much, Jiang Yin saw no reason to refuse what was offered.
Her companion seemed equally exhausted, offering no further conversation. He slept properly, his breathing soon becoming steady and even.
Burdened with worries, Jiang Yin fell into a deep sleep.
When Xinyue woke her for a meal later, Shen Shouyu was already gone. He didn’t reappear until the following morning.
During this time, Jiang Yin began to seriously consider how to escape their impending marriage.
First, she had to leave this place without anyone noticing.
She had checked—the door was still locked, with guards posted outside. Whenever she asked, they claimed Shen Shouyu was in a precarious situation and, to avoid implicating Jiang Yin or putting her in danger, she was not allowed to leave.
That meant the door was definitely not an option.
Her only hope was the window.
Shen Shouyu’s Warm Pavilion was on the fifth floor of Zui Xian Ju, with three more floors above, mostly private residences.
Outside the window, there was a half-protruding red-tiled eave. Following the eave, one could reach other rooms on the fifth floor.
This was something Jiang Yin had confirmed the day before yesterday when they returned.
At the time, Shen Shouyu had been solemn, likely preoccupied with matters concerning Shen Fengzhi, and hadn’t noticed her actions.
Jiang Yin had a faint feeling that this path might be feasible.
With a goal in mind, she wasted no time. After breakfast, once Xinyue had left, she began packing her belongings, preparing to seize an opportunity to escape that night.
The entire day was filled with anxiety. Jiang Yin crept around fearfully, occasionally crouching by the door, terrified that Shen Shouyu might suddenly appear and disrupt her plans.
Fortunately, he did not.
As the sky gradually darkened, her anxiety grew, yet she had to feign composure in front of Xinyue, who had come to deliver her evening meal—a difficult task indeed.
After painstakingly sending Xinyue away, Jiang Yin finally let out a sigh of relief and began to act.
As before, Shen Shouyu had taken away her clothes, forcing her to once again wrap herself in the bed curtains to avoid freezing to death on the streets.
To make climbing easier, she hid all her banknotes inside her clothes, stuffed her jewelry into her socks, and freed both hands.
Taking advantage of the noisy, crowded streets at night for cover, and the chaos and lax security at Zui Xian Ju, Jiang Yin opened the window and carefully climbed out.
During her sleepless night, she had secretly observed that the neighboring room was unlit, likely unoccupied.
Thus, she directly followed the eaves, swaying with each step, until she reached the window of the neighboring room.
The night wind was bitterly cold, stinging her face. The injuries she had sustained two days earlier had yet to heal, and now, chilled by the cold, her body ached unbearably.
But Jiang Yin paid no mind to any of this, focusing solely on the path beneath her feet to avoid slipping and meeting an untimely end before her plan could even begin.
She crouched by the neighboring window for a while, noticing that there was no light inside and no sound whatsoever. Only then did she move her nearly numb hands, opened the window, and climbed in.
As Jiang Yin had expected, the room was pitch dark and utterly silent.
Her pounding heart gradually calmed. She crouched in the corner to steady herself, then groped her way up and slowly moved along the wall toward the door.
Perhaps due to Shen Shouyu’s arrangements, this floor was nearly deserted, and it was quiet outside the door as well.
Jiang Yin pushed the door open a crack and peered outside.
The corridor was empty. About three zhang to the left was the door to the previous room, guarded by two attendants.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly closed the door again.
No good… leaving from here would surely be spotted by those two.
She needed another way out.
Without hesitation, Jiang Yin carefully returned to the window, opened it, and prepared to find a room farther away.
Just as she had one foot out the window, a soft chuckle suddenly came from the darkness within the room.
“…Heh.”
The laugh was indistinct, muffled with a nasal tone, half disdainful and half teasing, and the voice was familiar.
…So familiar that Jiang Yin could almost picture the faint wrinkles at the corners of that person’s eyes when they smiled and the unfocused pupils.
Her scalp tingled, and she nearly tumbled out the window.
Fortunately, she was holding onto the window frame and managed to steady herself.
Since the laugh had lasted only a moment before fading away, Jiang Yin held onto a sliver of hope that it had been an illusion. Holding her breath, she turned to look.
The window was open, and the faint moonlight passed through her, casting a long shadow on the floor.
The room was no longer as completely dark as before, yet it remained dim and hazy, making it impossible to see anything clearly.
Clutching the window frame tightly, she suppressed the urge to tremble from cold and fear, waiting for several breaths. There was no further movement.
…Was it really just a fright-induced illusion?
…Never mind, it must have been an illusion… This place was clearly unoccupied, dark, eerie, and chillingly cold.
…It must have been.
With time running short, Jiang Yin pushed the thought aside and stopped dwelling on it.
She turned back again, ready to leave.
Just then, another faint, crisp sound came from within the room.
…It sounded like the light tap of a fingernail against a cup.
Almost simultaneously, a faint, elegant fragrance, ghostlike, drifted over, lingering around Jiang Yin, gradually winding around her limbs.
“…”
In a flash of realization, she understood.
—Shen Shouyu couldn’t see. He was blind. He had no need to light a lamp.
So, he had been here all along, in this very room. It was she who hadn’t seen him.
It was over.
A chill of horror shot up her spine to the crown of her head. Jiang Yin couldn’t help but shiver.
Not daring to delay any longer, she decisively turned and climbed out the window.
However, panic and weak legs betrayed her. After just two steps forward, she tripped over a loose tile on the eaves.
With no time to grab hold of anything, she stumbled backward and fell.