“Mian’er, is this true?”
The words were so dark they seemed to drip with malice.
Ming Ying’s heart thumped wildly in her chest, and she opened her mouth to defend herself.
Yet Pei Xiaoyun did not seem to care for her explanation. He swept a cold glance over Pei Jingzhou, who was struggling on the ground, as if looking at a foolish ant, then turned and left without a backward glance.
Ming Ying fastened her clothes and hurried after him, her head bowed so low she dared not speak to him again.
Such incidents were not unheard of.
Back in Yangzhou, an official had once visited the estate and, after hearing her play the pipa during a banquet, half-jokingly asked Pei Xiaoyun if he would be willing to part with her as a gift.
As a servant, she naturally dared not openly refute such a request. She guessed the Young Master would not give her away.
As expected, Pei Xiaoyun’s face turned cold on the spot, and he drove the man away. But he also made her stand outside the door all night.
She endured a night of rain, her heart filled with unspoken grievances.
It wasn’t her fault—why treat her this way?
But later, she understood. He disliked her going out and disliked her getting too close to other men. Even if nothing happened, if he saw it, she would be the one to suffer.
In his presence, she was like a humble ant crawling slowly, unworthy of speaking of affection and too afraid to defy his will.
He said he liked her gentle, unassuming nature, which was why he gave her the name Mian’er. When he called, she would answer again and again.
By the time they returned to Lanqing Zhuoyuan, only a few remnants of the sunset remained in the sky.
Pei Xiaoyun went straight into his study, spreading out paper as if to write something. Without his permission, Ming Ying dared not enter and disturb him. And because he hadn’t dismissed her, she dared not leave either, forced to stand outside the door in the cold wind.
Lanterns were lit in every courtyard, their candlelight flickering in Ming Ying’s dazed eyes.
Still recovering from her chill, she grew weary from standing. The cold wind clung to her skin, and she rubbed her reddened, frozen knuckles repeatedly, thinking to herself: If only I’d worn more today.
Pei Xiaoyun’s personal guard, Kong Qing, dressed in dark robes, approached. Seeing Ming Ying standing at the door, he couldn’t help but wonder, “Why are you standing here, Miss Ming?”
Kong Qing had also followed Pei Xiaoyun since their days in Yangzhou and was familiar with Ming Ying. The three of them—master and servants—had weathered hardships together.
Ming Ying glanced at the tall, straight figure in the room but said nothing, only shaking her head at Kong Qing.
Guessing Pei Xiaoyun’s temper, Kong Qing said no more and stepped inside.
The old emperor was gravely ill, and all court affairs had been entrusted to the Crown Prince. As the Crown Prince’s sole confidant, Pei Xiaoyun was drafting a proposal to reopen the imperial examinations on his behalf.
“Eldest Master, I’ve uncovered that the Duke forcibly seized a peasant woman a year ago and ordered his guards to beat her entire family of four to death. The woman, unable to bear the humiliation, took her own life by crashing into a wall. The incident was suppressed with ample silver.”
Kong Qing reported as soon as he entered.
Pei Xiaoyun’s brush paused slightly, a hint of mockery curling at the corner of his mouth. “Anything else?”
He refused to believe his father’s hands were so “clean.”
“The cousin who was staying at the estate suddenly became pregnant. Upon investigation, the child is undeniably linked to the Duke. Later, the cousin was secretly sent to a manor, where she died of a sudden illness within days.”
“Excellent.” A glint of excitement flashed in Pei Xiaoyun’s eyes. “Send all the evidence we’ve gathered to the Dali Temple.”
That old wretch must die.
Those troublesome rats and sparrows in the household—he would deal with them one by one.
After Kong Qing left, he took up the brush and wrote with sweeping, vigorous strokes. The characters that fell onto the paper were like clusters of flames, gathering together as if to set everything ablaze.
Snap—
The wolf-hair brush snapped in two. His back slightly hunched, he gasped lightly, a layer of sweat covering his forehead. It felt as though countless ants were gnawing at the gaps between his bones, trying to drain him of flesh and blood.
His eyes were bloodshot as he clutched his chest, trying to steady his breathing. With a sweep of his hand, he knocked over the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone on the table.
The commotion inside the room startled Ming Ying, who had been dozing off on the stone steps. Hearing his faint, heavy groans, she jolted awake, gathered her skirts, and rushed inside.
Behind the beaded curtain, steam rose in waves, and a wave of hot mist washed over her. Her frozen fingertips tingled with a faint, numbing warmth.
Pei Xiaoyun was already delirious, having collapsed on the floor.
Ming Ying had seen him like this before. Ever since she began serving him, she knew he had been poisoned and would experience these most wretched moments several times a month.
She didn’t know how he had ended up this way—a proud and aloof young master who appeared as pristine as jade and snow in front of outsiders, yet whose back was covered with hideous scars once he removed his robes at night.
He never spoke of these matters to her, and she dared not ask.
Judging by his current state, the poison had flared up again—
"Young Master…" Her voice trembled with worry as she mustered all her strength to help him up.
Pei Xiaoyun’s heavy frame leaned against her. Once he was seated, his large hand suddenly clamped around her neck.
He tightened his grip inch by inch, as if trying to snap her neck.
Ming Ying’s face turned bluish-purple, tears welling at the corners of her eyes from the strain. She desperately beat at his hand, only able to emit faint whimpers.
"Ugh…"
Pei Xiaoyun finally opened his eyes. Before him was a woman with a delicate, pale face streaked with tears, like a flower battered and wilted by wind and rain.
Realizing what he was doing, he loosened his grip.
Recognizing her, his pale lips faintly uttered a few words: "Who told you to come in?"
He had intended to leave her waiting outside, yet she dared to enter on her own.
Ming Ying, weakened from near suffocation, didn’t dare waste a moment. Summoning her remaining strength, she went to the jade box to fetch the medicine.
Finding the jade porcelain vial he always carried, she poured out a brown pill and brought a cup of warm water to his lips. "Young Master, take the medicine quickly."
She couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even if he punished her afterward, she would still have rushed in.
In unbearable agony, Pei Xiaoyun swallowed the pill with the warm water she offered.
After taking the medicine, he rested his head on his hand, feigning sleep.
Those people, those events, those bizarre and fragmented scenes flashed before his eyes one by one.
Suppressing the low gasps in his throat, the veins on the back of his hand stood out starkly.
Ming Ying took the initiative to massage his forehead, hoping to ease his discomfort. After a while, his breathing gradually steadied—this episode of the poison’s flare-up had passed once more.
Seeing that he was alright, Ming Ying gently withdrew her fingers from his forehead, bent down, and softly asked, "Young Master, are you feeling better now?"
Pei Xiaoyun’s thin eyelids twitched slightly as he gazed into her gentle, moist eyes—eyes that held only him.
He felt some of the turbid heaviness in his chest dissipate, soothed by her clear, sweet voice.
Just moments ago, he had nearly strangled her to death.
"Much better," he said, his eyes lingering on the red marks on her neck. "Did I hurt you just now?"
Ming Ying shook her head. She knew that when the poison flared up, he became frenzied and couldn’t recognize anyone.
"As long as Young Master is alright."
Suddenly remembering that he hadn’t allowed her to enter, she turned to leave but was caught by Pei Xiaoyun, who grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his embrace.
Pei Xiaoyun lifted her onto his lap, letting her sit between his legs, his chin resting on her shoulder as he breathed in the fragrance of her hair.
"Did you ever finish practicing the characters I taught you back in Yangzhou?"
Ming Ying felt a warmth in her heart, her cheeks flushing slightly. "No, I only copied half the copybook before we set off."
Her handwriting was not particularly good.
He had taught her stroke by stroke, just like countless days and nights before, holding her like this, correcting her posture and guiding her brush.
"Come, I'll help you finish." Pei Xiaoyun wrapped his hand around hers, just as he used to.
His clear, gentle voice was like fine wine, intoxicating Ming Ying.
Her mind wandered, unable to focus on writing, her entire body growing warm.
"Focus." Pei Xiaoyun kissed her delicate earlobe. "If you make a mistake, the punishment will be the same as before."
Ming Ying's face flushed instantly like rosy clouds. Held so intimately by him, she absentmindedly made many mistakes.
And so, a pair of hands slipped beneath her skirt, carrying out those embarrassing punishments…
With the sound of the morning watch, the servants began their daily cleaning.
When Pei Xiaoyun rose, Ming Ying woke as well. She tried to get up to attend to him, but he gently pressed her back into the bed. "I'll call the maids. Weren't you complaining of exhaustion last night? Sleep a little longer."
His eyes still held the tenderness from the night before.
Ming Ying’s face flushed red, and she buried herself back under the covers.
Pei Xiaoyun ordered several new sets of clothing to be brought in. Knowing she was hiding from embarrassment, he turned her over and lightly kissed the tip of her rosy nose. "The clothes you wore yesterday weren’t warm enough. Don’t wear them anymore. I’ve had a few new sets made for you."
Ming Ying slowly sat up, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at the beautiful new clothes. "Thank you, Young Master. I will wear them."
Pei Xiaoyun loved her obedient demeanor the most. His dark eyes deepened, and he felt the urge to strip her bare once more. But remembering his duties, he resisted lingering in the bedchamber.
Before leaving, he instructed, "You are not to go anywhere today. Stay within the courtyard. If you grow bored, have Ling Shuang take you for a walk by the waterside pavilions. I will return early."
After Pei Xiaoyun left, Ming Ying chose a peach-pink dress to wear. The outfit was already eye-catching enough, so she decided against wearing any jewelry. Given her status, it was unwise to draw too much attention.
There wasn’t much to do in the courtyard. In the morning, she and Ling Shuang did needlework, and in the afternoon, they played Double Six. Remembering that Pei Xiaoyun had said he would return early, she set the game aside and went to brew tea for him.
He loved the osmanthus-infused tea she made best.
The small porcelain stove bubbled softly, releasing wisps of steam.
Her thoughts drifted, suddenly recalling their days in Yangzhou.
After his duties, he would bring back her favorite pastries, drink a cup of tea she brewed, and in the evenings, teach her to read and write.
She struggled to understand entire books but loved flipping through tales of the supernatural. He would embellish the stories on purpose, frightening her so much that she clung tightly to him at night.
Those three years, it was just the two of them.
They were the days she missed the most.
The boiling tea lifted the porcelain lid, snapping her back to the present.
The tea was ready for sugar. She went to ask Ling Shuang where to find rock sugar, and Ling Shuang directed her to the kitchen.
The kitchen servants, seeing her arrive, politely handed her a large packet of rock sugar.
Ming Ying thanked them and left. As she walked out, a small, snow-white dog followed her. She crouched down to pet it, and the dog stuck by her side, trailing her all the way back to the inner courtyard.
She finished brewing the tea and noticed the dog lying by the threshold. Guessing it belonged to someone in the kitchen, she tried to send it back, but it darted out through the side gate in a flash.
She hurried out to chase after it, following the gravel path until she reached the outer courtyard.
Guogongfu was elegant and spacious, with a layout of winding corridors and intricate pathways.
Being new here, she was unfamiliar with the various courtyards. By the time she caught up with the dog, she had no idea where she was.
Walking further, she passed through a bamboo grove path and arrived at a small pavilion connected by a covered walkway. There, a man and a woman were walking side by side, their steps slow and their postures intimate.
Ming Ying recognized the tall, jade-like figure of the man. The sea-blue round-collared robe he wore was the same one he had on when he left in the morning—it was Pei Xiaoyun.
Beside him was a woman with delicate features, adorned with jewels and hairpins. She affectionately held his arm and sweetly called out, "Brother A Yun."
Ming Ying lowered her gaze, her heart aching, her feet as if glued to the bluestone bricks, unsure how to take another step.
Finally, the woman walking alongside Pei Xiaoyun noticed her and frowned delicately. "Brother A Yun, who is she?"
Pei Xiaoyun’s gaze fell upon Ming Ying, growing colder, as if trying to bore a hole through her.
After a long moment, he replied indifferently, "Just a servant of the household."
Mindful of County Mistress Jianing beside him, he grew displeased when Ming Ying still did not leave and urged her away. "No manners. Hurry up and leave."