At that moment, a wine cup suddenly came crashing down from the second floor.
It struck Pei Jing squarely on the back of his hand, the force so great that it dislocated his wrist on impact. His grip on the carriage curtain went slack, and he stumbled back a step before steadying himself.
The curtain fell shut, only to be lifted again by the wind.
Shen Ruojin looked up and saw Qin Lang leaning against the second-floor window, idly toying with a wine cup. Dressed in fine silks and with a handsome, striking appearance, he exuded an air of untamed elegance.
For a moment, she neither moved nor spoke, simply gazing at this young prince of Qin.
Meeting her gaze, Qin Lang said with a faint, mocking smile, "Shen Ruojin, didn't you come looking for me?"
Shen Ruojin, just emerging from the depths of her memories, instinctively replied, "Yes."
A smile still played on Qin Lang's lips, but the force in his hand betrayed him as he crushed the wine cup. "Then why are you wasting time with irrelevant people? Why aren't you coming up?"
The shattered pieces of the cup fell from above, clattering loudly as they hit the ground. The crowd gathered in front of the theater to watch the commotion startled and retreated to the sides.
Shen Ruojin thought to herself: This young prince of Qin has quite the temper.
"Coming," she responded, then lifted the curtain and stepped down from the carriage.
The onlookers caught their first glimpse of the prince's new bride and craned their necks to get a better look. Instantly, the murmurs grew louder.
Shen Ruojin acted as if she heard nothing, walking calmly through the crowd and into the theater.
"Ruojin—" Pei Jing hid his injured hand in his sleeve and once again stepped forward to block Shen Ruojin's path. "You have no feelings for Qin Lang, and as for him—on his wedding night, he could do something as absurd as spending the night at a theater. It's clear he cares nothing for you. As long as you turn back in time, this marriage can still be annulled."
Shijian rushed forward in a flash, positioning herself in front of Shen Ruojin to prevent Pei Jing from taking another step closer. She rebuked him sharply, "My lady has already performed the wedding ceremony with the young master. How can it be annulled? Harassing a married woman in public—even if you are a Jieyuan, you'll face a lawsuit and a beating!"
Pei Jing tried to explain further, "What happened yesterday was all a misunderstanding. Yun Wei and I have no improper relationship…"
Shen Ruojin had no desire to continue this entanglement. She cut him off clearly, "Young Master Pei, please have some self-respect."
Pei Jing felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head. All his dignity and scholarly pride seemed to have been trampled underfoot in that moment.
He had come with sincere intentions to explain, yet Shen Ruojin wouldn't even listen, casually tossing out a "please have some self-respect" as if he were some clingy, unwanted nuisance.
The highborn daughter of the marquis's household must have long been dissatisfied with him being just a poor scholar. Now that she had the chance to marry into the prince's household and become a noble lady, why would she bother listening to his explanations?
The more Pei Jing thought about it, the angrier he became. He sneered, "Shen Ruojin, are you so angry with me that you'd willingly marry a wastrel like Qin Lang? You're blinded by immediate wealth and status—you'll surely regret it in the future!"
Shen Ruojin glanced at him, too weary to say more, and walked straight past Pei Jing, ascending the steps to the second floor.
Pei Jing stood there for a long while, staring blankly as Shen Ruojin walked further and further away from him.
Inside the theater, the atmosphere was lively and noisy. The female lead was singing with a melodious, bird-like trill: "He taught me to let go of lingering resentment, to curb my willfulness, to renew myself, to change my nature, to cease clinging to the past, to turn back from the sea of bitterness, to awaken early to the orchid's cause—"
Shen Ruojin ascended the stairs to the rhythm of the drums. The gazes of every spectator in the theater shifted from the performers to her. At that moment, the drama on stage was far less captivating than the one unfolding below.
Even the huadan actress on the stage cast a glance toward the private room at the very center of the second floor.
The gauze and beaded curtains on either side of the private room were drawn back. Qin Lang, the young prince in purple robes and light fur, leaned casually against the window, his posture relaxed and carefree. He deliberately threw a provocative, teasing look toward Pei Jing.
Pei Jing’s anger flared even hotter, and he immediately turned and stormed away.
“He said you’ll surely regret it in the future. Why didn’t you respond?” Qin Lang turned to look at Shen Ruojin, his eyes carrying a hint of inquiry.
Shen Ruojin walked slowly around the chair and stepped forward. Instead of answering, she asked in return, “Whether I regret it or not—what does it have to do with irrelevant people? Even half a word of nonsense is too much.”
Hearing this, Qin Lang’s lips unconsciously curved into a faint smile.
“What are you all still standing around for? Our Second Young Mistress is here—hurry up and serve the tea!” Xiao He was practically sweating with anxiety as he quickly instructed the waiter.
Earlier, Steward Xiao He had rushed upstairs to report to the Second Young Master, saying, “The Second Young Mistress is here. You should go downstairs and return to the residence right away.”
The young prince Qin Lang had been utterly unhurried at the time. “If she wants to come, let her come. If she’s willing to wait, let her wait.”
Before the words had even fully faded, someone downstairs exclaimed that Pei Jing, the Jieyuan, had arrived.
That man hadn’t even been able to get close to the Second Young Mistress, nor had he managed to explain himself clearly. Qin Lang stood up, looking down from above, and with the words “Weren’t you here to find me?” he hurled his wine cup down along with the question.
“Second Young Mistress, please have some tea.”
Steward Xiao He took the tea brought over by the waiter, placed it on the table, and then stepped aside.
Shen Ruojin took a seat beside Qin Lang, picked up the teacup, took a sip, and then focused entirely on listening to the opera.
The tea was mediocre, but the opera was truly excellent.
The huadan actress’s appearance was exquisite—every frown, smile, and turn was full of charm. When she furrowed her brows, the audience below felt their hearts break along with hers.
With such a beauty, it was no wonder those nobles loved to spend fortunes lavishing attention on opera performers.
Even Shen Ruojin felt a slight itch in her hands upon seeing this.
Qin Lang waited beside her for a moment but didn’t hear her initiate conversation with him. He couldn’t help but glance sideways. “You came but won’t speak—what exactly are you here for?”
“Originally, I came on the orders of the Prince and Princess to invite the young prince back to the residence. Now, though—to listen to the opera.”
Shen Ruojin’s gaze remained fixed on the stage. Only when the performer sang the final line, won a round of applause, and gracefully retreated backstage did she reluctantly look away.
Qin Lang was both amused and exasperated. “What are you staring at Haitang Hong for?”
Shen Ruojin smiled. “A famous performer takes the stage to showcase their art precisely for others to appreciate. Does the young prince forbid me from watching?”
“Weren’t you here to find me?”
Qin Lang pointed out her original purpose in coming.
Since she had come for him, how could she divert her attention to someone else and share her gaze with another?
“Haven’t I found you already?”
Shen Ruojin set down her teacup. She had promised the Prince and Princess to find Qin Lang, but that didn’t mean she had to bring him back on the spot.
Moreover, men everywhere were the same: if you revolved around them, they would only run farther away. If you paid them no mind, they would instead think you were different from other women.
Suolinnang was Haitang Hong’s signature opera, famous throughout the capital. Shen Ruojin had been back in the capital for quite some time but had never heard it performed.
Since she was already here today, she might as well sit and listen.
But Qin Lang’s gaze on her was truly hard to ignore. Shen Ruojin glanced sideways at him. “You came to Fanghuatai but aren’t listening to the opera. Why are you staring at me the whole time?”
Her clear, phoenix-like eyes fixed on Qin Lang, filled with sincerity as she said, "Or perhaps, on a day like today, when I came to find you without crying or making a scene, you felt something was missing? It’s no matter. After all, this is the first time either of us has married. Young couples always need time to adjust. If you have any requests, just say them—I’ll do my best to meet them."
"Oh?" Qin Lang’s smile turned playful. "And how exactly do you plan to meet them?"
Shen Ruojin paused. She had spoken quite seriously—why did this young lord Qin keep steering the conversation into treacherous waters?
Qin Lang tapped his fingers lightly against the windowsill, matching the rhythm of the music from the backstage, and said casually, "Since we’ve nothing better to do, why don’t you cry for me to see?"
"That’s a bit difficult," Shen Ruojin thought for a moment. "I’ve always been the one making others cry. Would you like to give it a try?"
Qin Lang withdrew his hand into his sleeve, momentarily at a loss for words. "…"
Shen Ruojin raised the corner of her eye slightly. "Why have you gone quiet? Are you feeling shy?"
"Shen Ruojin—" Qin Lang watched her rosy lips part and close, his gaze darkening as he reached out to brush the corner of her mouth. "There are many ways to make someone stop talking. Would you like to try one?"
Shen Ruojin was momentarily taken aback, then lifted her chin slightly. "Why not give it a try?"
Since they were now husband and wife, and had already entered the bridal chamber, what else was off-limits?
Qin Lang grabbed Shen Ruojin’s wrist, pulling her up from the chair in one swift motion. With a slight tug, she spun around and landed seated on his lap.
With one hand supporting her waist, Qin Lang gently caressed her, his peach-blossom eyes growing increasingly dark as he leaned down to kiss her.