When the secret agents brought back the news that Shen Meizhuang and Liu Xu had eloped together, Ji Mu, who was leaning back in his seat with a wine cup in the secret chamber, crushed the bronze vessel in his palm.
Even though he had no intentions toward that Miss Shen, her actions were still pressing his dignity as Ji Mu into the dirt and grinding it down. This was simply going too far in bullying others!
As for the background of that zither player, Ji Mu had also quickly figured it out within two or three days.
Last year, the Shen residence hosted a birthday banquet, and the zither player happened to mingle among the opera troupe to perform at the private gathering. Liu Xu possessed somewhat decent looks, and based solely on that, he made the ignorant and foolish Miss Shen fall infatuated with him. The two of them unfortunately crossed paths in the back garden of the Shen residence, and it was said that they even secretly exchanged intimate personal items with each other, trading a silk handkerchief for a sweat towel.
Ever since then, Shen Meizhuang had maintained a period of correspondence with Liu Xu through letters. The secret agents even tracked down several of those letters from Liu Xu’s former residence in Yujing. When Li Mao read them aloud to Ji Mu, the explicit wording caused Ji Mu’s expression to turn cold and gloomy.
Bang—the wine cup in his palm shattered completely.
Miss Shen was dissolute and shameless. Since she had already been involved with someone beforehand, she still agreed to the marriage letter, deceiving him to this extent without a word. Yet, after performing the grand wedding ceremonies of bowing to heaven and earth, she discarded his, Ji Mu’s, dignity like worn-out shoes and eloped with that lowly adulterer.
The Shen family was by no means innocent in this matter, either.
Long before promising his eldest daughter’s hand in marriage, Shen Shushi had already been aware of Liu Xu’s existence, knowing that the daughter he had painstakingly cultivated and raised had shared intimacy with Liu Xu. His wife, Lady Lin, wanted to deal with Liu Xu through forceful methods and have him beaten to death with heavy staves.
It was also Shen Meizhuang who knelt and wept bitterly, imploring her parents to show mercy and raise their hands in grace. At that time, she swore by heaven with the most solemn oaths, stating that she would never again be entangled with the zither player.
Because of this, the Shen couple spared Liu Xu’s life for the sake of their daughter who was begging bitterly, merely ordering him to get out of the opera troupe and get out of Yujing.
However, Liu Xu lingered outside the city of Yujing and never truly left.
After the grand wedding, due to the sudden worsening of Consort Mother’s illness, Ji Mu had placed his entire mind and heart on Wangjiang Courtyard, lacking attention for the unfamiliar Miss Shen. The entire Prince’s Manor also took his thoughts and focus as their direction, so rarely anyone cared about Xunchun Residence, and even fewer people investigated the covert substitution that took place inside.
Upon learning the complete ins and outs of the matter, Ji Mu was indeed consumed by irrepressible anger. At first, he even entertained the thought of rushing personally to Zhizhou, where they currently resided, to kill the adulterer and adulteress who had brought this humiliation upon him under his sword.
However, his eyes were already blinded, and he was long unsuited for long-distance rapid raids. After regaining his calm, considering that Miss Shen’s escape had ultimately brought her—Ji Mu’s underlying anger and resentment were also suppressed for a few moments, no longer surging violently.
Being born of the same root as her was the greatest mercy Miss Shen could obtain. Ji Mu suppressed his overwhelming killing intent, massaged the bridge of his nose, and issued a low command within the quiet room.
He would not kill Shen Meizhuang. But she had better never show her face in Yujing again.
Tonight, the bed curtains in the bedchamber swayed somewhat more slowly, no longer as frantically and endlessly unrestrained as before, without a single end in sight even after an hour or two. Shen Lizhuang was granted a reprieve, and for once, she had the energy to speak with him after the intimacy had ended.
“Your Highness is a teacher of students; your essays must certainly be written quite exceptionally. I wonder if I might have the honor of reading Your Highness’s essays?”
Shen Lizhuang had her own plans in mind. The style of the person setting the examination questions established the direction of the test items, so reading more of his written essays might perhaps be beneficial for predicting next year’s examination topics?
The long arm embracing the person in his arms tightened its hold a fraction, and a low laugh, carrying lingering traces of pleasure, drifted down from above. “Oh, you want to read this Prince’s essays?”
Shen Lizhuang did not know what attitude he was putting on, but she bit her lip, trying her best to steady her emotions as she replied with a single word: “Yes.”
Ji Mu’s expression was calm and unreadable, not showing much outwardly, but his mood was quite good. The pad of his thumb traced and slid inch by inch along the warm, smooth skin of Shen Lizhuang’s nose bridge.
“Ever since I lost my sight, I have never authored any more essays. The ones I wrote before the age of twenty, however, I can let you read.”
Hearing this, disappointment uncontrollably washed over Shen Lizhuang’s heart.
Catching the faint sigh coming from the person in his arms, Ji Mu raised an eyebrow. “What? The essays from before my crown-goking age are more than enough for you to study.”
Shen Lizhuang had not originally meant it that way. She simply felt that when someone underwent such a sudden and drastic life event as total blindness, the essays they wrote would undoubtedly change drastically alongside the shifting tides of their state of mind; thus, his writings from before the age of twenty would hold very little reference value for the present. She had not expected the Prince of Jing to speak in this manner, and a trace of genuine defiance truly stirred within her heart.
He was only a few years older than her and had studied for a couple more years; she simply did not believe he possessed such tremendous talent. Perhaps it was just blind self-confidence and overestimation of his own abilities.
Yet Shen Lizhuang did not voice her inner thoughts. “Your Highness’s words are pearls of wisdom, and your essays must surely be extraordinary. How could I dare not to believe you?”
Hearing her flattering remarks, not only did Ji Mu fail to feel comforted, but instead a subtle sense of displeasure and the urge to prove himself faintly sprouted in his heart.
“Wait here; I will go retrieve them.”
Shen Lizhuang was slightly stunned, never expecting that he would actually go get them.
The study was not far from the bedchamber. He took his blind staff and, after walking back and forth for no longer than the time it takes to burn half a stick of incense, he returned with a stack of essays.
Standing outside the bed curtains, he casually waved his hand in the air, causing the xuan paper to make a rustling sound. Shen Lizhuang lifted her gaze in astonishment from the sleeping couch, just as an orange-red halo bathed his peerlessly handsome face. His gaze clearly lacked focus, yet between his brows rested a faint air of hidden pride.
Shen Lizhuang accepted the essays, offered her thanks, and lowered her gaze to read through them.
This was also her first time witnessing the handwriting of the Prince of Jing. If they say handwriting reflects the person, then the Prince of Jing’s soaring and vigorous brushwork exuded an aura of sharp arrogance and a haughty disdain for the entire world, revealing his inherent pride. His handwriting was fine, and the essays were equally exceptional—polished and brilliant, profound and breathtakingly gorgeous, flowing like a vast, unrestrained ocean without a single stumble from start to finish. He cited historical classics with a mighty momentum, hitting the nail on the head regarding contemporary politics article by article, entirely free of any tortuous or obscure phrasing.
A person capable of writing such essays was, in the past, actually a military general.
Shen Lizhuang could not help but raise her dark eyes once more from the embroidered paper filling her pages, quietly studying his features as they flickered in and out of view with the dancing candlelight.
His appearance was strikingly radiant and refined, coupled with such remarkable talent—back then, when his eyes were not yet blind, what a breathtakingly brilliant person he must have been!
This was also the first time Shen Lizhuang felt that it was far too great a pity his eyes were blinded! Previously, she had merely felt a passing sense of regret; looking at it now, however, it was a deep and sorrowful pang of sympathy.
Ji Mu could only hear the rustling sounds made by fingertips gently rubbing against the xuan paper. Unable to see her face, hear any other movements from her, or fathom what was currently in her heart, he stood at the head of the bed holding his blind staff. “How is it?”
Shen Lizhuang possessed normal aesthetic judgment and was definitely not one to stubbornly refuse to admit the truth: “Fine essays.”
“Merely a stroke of accidental inspiration.”
As he spoke, however, the outer corners of his brow lifted imperceptibly.
Holding the thick stack of xuan paper documenting his boyhood essays in her hands, Shen Lizhuang sighed once more: with a good mother like Consort Yun, a person really could bypass so many detours, making even studying yield twice the results with half the effort. He truly was so fortunate!
The night grew deep, and Ji Mu urged her not to spend too long reading the essays and to turn in for sleep early. Shen Lizhuang hesitated and was reluctant to enter the curtains, but when he promised that he would not touch her again tonight, she guiltily put the essays down and gingerly slipped back into the brocade curtains.
Only tonight, without the exhaustion of the flesh, lying in the arms of the Prince of Jing felt like having a dark, man-devouring fierce tiger lurking right beside her—especially since that man-devouring tiger’s breathing beat fiercely and gloomily against her ear time and time again, startling her heart into wild fluttering.
How could she possibly fall asleep right away?
Ji Mu, who was holding his consort in his arms, greedily pressing his face into the layers of her raven-like hair and deeply inhaling the lingering fragrance of pear blossom scent radiating from her locks, suddenly opened his lips and asked: “That consort-born younger sister in your family—how has she been lately? Is her illness cured?”
Hearing Ji Mu suddenly ask about her, Shen Lizhuang, who had managed to scrape together a hazy layer of sleepiness, instantly lost all drowsiness. Her scalp tightened in tandem, and with an out-of-balance heartbeat, she countered: “Why is Your Highness suddenly asking about Lizhuang?”
Ji Mu twitched the corner of his lips, turning a blind eye to her fluster. “When we last returned to the Shen family, she was nowhere to be seen, and Junior Minister Shen was also vague in his words. I have a question: within your family, do you differentiate between seniority, birth status, and nobility versus humbleness?”
Differentiate? There was more than enough differentiation!
Yet, viewed from the perspective of Shen Meizhuang, who was a beneficiary of this system, she probably would not perceive the injustices Shen Lizhuang had suffered over the years. Even though ripples of emotion stirred within her due to this casual sentence from the Prince of Jing, Shen Lizhuang did not reveal a shred of it.
“Our family’s household discipline is upright, and there is no such petty calculation. She really was ill; it wasn’t meant as a slight to Your Highness, but one simply cannot receive visitors while ill.”
In the lightless shadows, Ji Mu furrowed his brows.
An obscure, unfavored consort-born daughter—perhaps in a little while, she would slowly “die of illness” within the Shen family, quietly buried away without a sound.
“Jiaojiao,” he suddenly murmured softly, calling out her childhood nickname, a name that made Shen Lizhuang’s limbs stiffen and go numb. “You were born in the twelfth lunar month, with snow blanketing the embroidered branches. Why use the two characters ‘Jiaojiao’ (Bright and Pure) for your name? In this Prince’s view, the two characters ‘Aiai’ (Pure White) would seem more fitting.”
In an instant, Shen Lizhuang felt as though her heart had stopped beating, her pupils dilating in terror.
“The third month grows warm, spring gradually arrives, emerald rains cleanse and wash, and white pears bloom in seclusion. Your younger sister would actually be more suited to the name ‘Jiaojiao’,” he commented, asking her in puzzlement, “Could it be that your father-in-law mistakenly recognized the flower and chose the wrong name?”
Shen Lizhuang hurriedly covered up: “My father indeed… well, he can’t tell white plum blossoms apart from white pear blossoms… Besides, both ‘Jiaojiao’ and ‘Aiai’ describe snow-white colors, they are both white flowers anyway, why bother splitting hairs?”
She had no idea whether she had managed to bluff her way past or not. After all, the Prince of Jing was a master hand capable of composing brilliant essays, and he didn’t quite look like someone who was easy to fool. Once this was over, she must give instructions for Yingluo to find an opportunity to return home and coordinate the Shen family’s fabricated story, so as not to let slip a word by accident one day when caught off guard.
Her battle-ready demeanor was the unconscious betrayal of her own guilt (“the thief protesting his innocence”). A sinister smile tugged at the corners of Ji Mu’s lips as the palm of his hand stroked her cheek, wearing the expression of someone who had been successfully fooled by her.
Shen Lizhuang also let out a long breath of relief, purposely putting on a playful tone as she whispered, “If Your Highness keeps asking about Lizhuang like this, your concubine will really begin to overthink things.”
Ji Mu casually asked, “Would you be willing?”
Willing to what? Willing to let him have his cake and eat it too, with the sisters Ehuang and Nuying entering the manor together to serve by his side?
Shen Lizhuang could not fathom his intentions, but privately reckoned that if Shen Meizhuang were willing to swap back, this might not even be a bad alternative. When the time came, she could fake her death and make a successful retreat—wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds? Since it was a messy deception, she might as well just keep muddling through it!
“If Your Highness is willing, your concubine will do her utmost to persuade her.”
Ji Mu abruptly deepened his frown, his dark eyes pressing down heavily.
Thinking once more of that dissolute Shen woman who had acted improperly before marriage and eloped with someone afterward, an unnamable, churning chill rose from the depths of his heart.
Allowing that person to keep her life was already out of consideration for the fact that two out of the three characters in the surname Shen matched hers; her compensation had already satisfied him greatly. As for the adulterer who had enticed Shen Meizhuang into eloping, he undoubtedly possessed no such towering good fortune.