In the early morning, the chirping of insects and birds drifted through the bamboo blinds into the inn’s bright main hall, carrying a touch of the tranquil freshness unique to the mountains.
Bai Ruoyao sat at a table, waiting for Chu Wusu to come down for breakfast. She found it a little strange—usually Wusu would be up by this hour, so why was there still no sign of him today?
Unwilling to seem too forward, she didn’t go upstairs to call him, and simply waited quietly.
Perhaps he was just tired from yesterday? she thought uncertainly.
Upstairs, Chu Wusu was not still asleep as Bai Ruoyao imagined—he was in Ji Shu’s room.
“That sleepy?” He dug Ji Shu out from under the covers.
“Mm, my lord… you’re up so early.” Ji Shu’s eyes weren’t even open yet. Covering her mouth, she let out a tiny yawn.
Early?
He used to be the last one to get up. This was the first time anyone had ever accused him of “getting up early.”
The corners of Chu Wusu’s lips lifted slightly, laughter rippling through his peach-blossom eyes with a hint of “the pot calling the kettle black” mischief: “Look at the hour—how is this early?”
After a pause, his voice lowered slightly, a little guilty: “Today… does it still hurt there?”
Yesterday he had truly gone mad. How could he have lost his temper and then… But if it happened again, he feared he still wouldn’t be able to hold back. His fingertips brushed absently, as if savoring that soft, yielding touch.
“It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” Ji Shu’s ears flushed red, and she lowered her thick, feathery lashes in embarrassment. “Your medicine… worked very well, my lord.”
Her voice was so soft it nearly dissolved into the air—if not for Chu Wusu’s extraordinary hearing, he almost would have missed it.
His slender fingers couldn’t help themselves; he gave her flushed little face a gentle pinch. “That’s good. Get up and have some porridge.”
Ji Shu didn’t resist. She merely blinked her fox-like eyes and coaxed softly, “My lord, I want to sleep a little longer.”
Chu Wusu’s heart itched at her obedient appearance. “Be good. Eat first, then sleep.”
Ji Shu let out a wronged little “oh.” “Then will you feed me, my lord?”
Chu Wusu’s fingers twitched, and a flicker of hesitation rose in his heart.
Feed her?
He lowered his gaze to those moist eyes, as innocent and pure as a small animal’s, and—as if bewitched by something intangible—he actually reached out and picked up the bowl of green rice porridge.
“Open your mouth.” He scooped up a spoonful and brought it to her lips.
Ji Shu stuck out her little tongue and tentatively licked the tip of the spoon. Only after confirming the temperature was just right did she trustingly take it into her mouth.
Chu Wusu stared at that tender pink little tongue, his eyes darkening slightly.
So obedient.
An imperceptible sense of satisfaction rose within him.
Spoonful by spoonful, the bowl was nearly empty. When Chu Wusu offered her another bite, Ji Shu shook her head, signaling she couldn’t eat any more.
Chu Wusu actually felt a trace of regret. Time really did pass too quickly.
“Sleep now that you’re full. I’ll come check on you at noon.” He tucked the blanket around Ji Shu.
This was already the fifth time Bai Ruoyao had stood up. She took a deep breath and sat down again.
Why wasn’t Wusu coming down? If she waited any longer, they might as well switch straight to lunch.
“Miss, shall I clear these away?” Seeing her stand up and sit down repeatedly, the waiter cautiously approached to ask.
Bai Ruoyao was just about to lose her temper at this tactless waiter when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of that familiar figure.
“No need. You may go.” Her tone suddenly turned gentle.
“Wusu, have you already eaten?” When she got a clear look at the bowl in Wusu’s hands, Bai Ruoyao’s expression stiffened slightly.
Chu Wusu took in her expression, then glanced at the two breakfasts set on the table.
“No.”
Bai Ruoyao pointed at the empty bowl in his hand, puzzlement surfacing in her eyes. “Then this is…?”
“Ji Shu’s.”
Bai Ruoyao’s face darkened, her smile barely holding. “What do you mean? You brought her breakfast?”
—She had been waiting downstairs, and he was up here sharing a meal with another woman?
Chu Wusu’s peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly. Was Bai Ruoyao questioning him?
“I put her in confinement, so naturally I had to bring her food.” Though displeased, he offered an explanation for the sake of Bai Ruoyao, who was still of use to him.
“Confinement? Did… did Miss Ji do something wrong?” At his words, Bai Ruoyao relaxed inwardly, but still felt uneasy. “But there’s no need for you to deliver it yourself. Couldn’t you just have the waiter do it?”
Have someone else deliver it?
Ji Shu had grown more and more clingy lately. Thinking of her tear-filled eyes, his heart inexplicably softened a little—if he didn’t go, that girl would probably cling to his arm again, weeping coquettishly for a good long while.
She was his Right Guardian, after all—his capable subordinate who had followed him for so many years. Now that he’d left her unable to get out of bed, he certainly couldn’t have someone else bring her meals.
Since it was his doing, it was only right that he look after her.
How could Bai Ruoyao be so petty?
He hadn’t yet noticed that since Ji Shu appeared, his patience with other women had been dwindling day by day.
“Ji Shu is unruly by nature. I put her in confinement for a few days to let her calm down.” As for why he hadn’t let the waiter deliver the food, Chu Wusu didn’t explain.
Bai Ruoyao didn’t catch that layer either; she only picked up on the coldness in his tone—and naturally assumed it wasn’t directed at her.
It seemed Ji Shu had truly angered Wusu. A secret flicker of pleasure rose in her heart, and she couldn’t help feeling a bit of schadenfreude.
She magnanimously spoke up for Ji Shu. “Wusu, Miss Ji surely didn’t do it on purpose.”
Then her tone shifted. “But she is only a maid after all. Serving others is her duty—a little tempering will do her good.” Bai Ruoyao wore an expression of thoughtful concern for Ji Shu, yet every word, subtly and seamlessly, put her down.
Chu Wusu caught the hidden meaning, and suddenly felt rather bored.
When Ji Shu attacked Bai Ruoyao earlier, she had looked vicious, but in truth she hadn’t so much as torn a corner of her clothing. This Miss Bai, on the other hand, sweetly spoke well of Ji Shu to her face while driving nails into her one by one beneath the words—was she “disciplining” the people around him on his behalf?
What did she take him for? Her possession?
A flicker of something like amusement rose in Chu Wusu’s heart.
His apparent favor toward Bai Ruoyao was, in truth, only because of the connection she carried to Elder Qingming—the one who had killed the old man.
To be honest, he felt nothing for that so-called father. People of the Demonic Cult had coldness running through their blood. If the old man had fallen in an honorable fight, outmatched, blood spilled on the ground, he would have at most glanced from a distance and let out a hollow “oh.”
Life and death were fated; no one was to blame.
But a sneak attack—that was unforgivable.
As for Bai Ruoyao’s little schemes, he saw through them all too clearly; he simply couldn’t be bothered to expose them. The more eager one was to stake a claim, the more one revealed one’s inferiority.
But Ji Shu…
Chu Wusu’s eyes flickered slightly. Just yesterday, that girl had been bent over his knee for a punishment, crying so hard her tears fell like pearls, weeping in a way that was both delicate and full of grievance.
And afterward? Far from avoiding him, she had come sidling over with reddened eyes, calling to him in a hoarse little voice—”My lord”—her fingers quietly hooking onto his sleeve, as cautious as a cat that had been scolded into fear yet couldn’t help wanting to be close to him anyway.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know she was playing her little games.
That soft, delicate demeanor of hers hid a measure of testing, a measure of fawning, and a measure of stubbornness that was hard to put into words.
But it was precisely that stubbornness that set her apart from everyone else—she feared him, yet still drew near; she felt wronged, yet never learned to hold a grudge.
The corners of Chu Wusu’s lips lifted slightly, a faint smile surfacing.
“I will see to her discipline myself.”
With those words, his gaze swept past Bai Ruoyao. He strode off on his long legs, robes billowing, leaving without so much as a backward glance—leaving her standing there alone.