What woman doesn’t love beauty? A true beauty should be cherished and cared for, not dressed in men’s clothing and exposed to the elements all day. This move was what one would call “playing to her tastes.”
Hua Jian’s eyes held a deep intensity, making no effort to hide his intentions. As the Young General of the City Guard, he believed any intelligent woman would understand exactly what he meant.
Jiang Fanyin glanced at him, not missing the undercurrent in his gaze. It was the look of a hunter certain of his prey, a look that made her feel uncomfortable and repulsed.
“There is no need for Young Master Hua to spend so much,” she said. She had no desire to waste her energy on such matters and made no move to take the dress.
Hua Jian’s face stiffened for a moment, but he regained his composure with remarkable speed. “It was my presumption. I hope Miss Jiang will not take offense.”
As expected of a Prefect’s daughter, he thought. She is truly no ordinary woman. Excellent. Surprising, and quite a delight.
Jiang Fanyin offered a few polite platitudes, but her mind was on her father’s plight. She bid him a hasty farewell and hurried back to the county office.
Entering the inner court, she saw Song Boxue leisurely brewing tea. A faint sense of disappointment washed over her; this person hadn’t contacted her all day, nor had she even sent someone to check on her.
“Sister Jiang is back. Did you get along well with Young General Hua?”
Jiang Fanyin remained silent for a moment, looking at the woman who seemed so unruffled. She answered with a question of her own: “Why didn’t you send anyone to follow me?”
You said you would protect me.
Song Boxue curled her lips into a smile. “With Young General Hua and Commander Jiang there, this official is naturally at ease.”
How could she not be at ease? One was the destined male lead, the other a devoted supporting lead. There was no need to worry about the female lead’s safety.
Jiang Fanyin gave her a long, steady look. “We got along very well. Has there been any word from Prefect Miao?”
Song Boxue maintained her smile. “Sister Jiang should just focus on accompanying Young General Hua. You needn’t worry about other matters.”
Better to cultivate those feelings early, Song Boxue thought, to save everyone from the cycles of misunderstanding and ‘dog-blood’ angst later on.
This was the leads’ tragic romance novel; she just wanted to settle the business at hand, resign, and get as far away as possible. Out of sight, out of mind.
Mind? Song Boxue’s smile faltered.
What did she have to be bothered about? Matters of the heart required mutual consent. One-sided devotion was for “simps,” and she refused to be a simp.
As Song Boxue thought this, a trace of confusion flickered in her mind. What are these messy thoughts? Could I actually feel something for the female lead.
Impossible. It must be the lingering effects of the heat cycle—the soothing scent of light tea that had calmed her time and again. It couldn’t be anything else.
Jiang Fanyin clenched her fingers as that strange sensation returned. She always felt this person was simultaneously close and yet worlds away. She hesitated for a moment, then pursed her lips. “The private forging of weapons is no small matter. I, too, am concerned about the progress.”
After speaking, a flash of trepidation crossed Jiang Fanyin’s eyes. I am showing so much interest in this, will she ask? She’ll surely ask, won’t she?
If this person asked, she was willing to tell her everything. In this moment, she wanted to cast aside her defenses. She disliked this feeling of distance, as if a barrier stood between them. She wanted to speak without reservation.
Song Boxue set down the teapot and said languidly, “Brother Lin Da hasn’t returned yet, and the secret investigators sent by Prefect Miao haven’t contacted me either. Rest assured, Sister Jiang; if there is any change in the situation, I will certainly inform you.”
This matter was highly likely connected to the case of the female lead’s father. She didn’t mind being helpful. As a modern Alpha, she had read plenty of novels where the plot revolved entirely around the protagonists—the darlings of heaven. She wasn’t stupid; she was perfectly happy to maintain a peaceful relationship with Jiang Fanyin.
Jiang Fanyin knit her brows slightly, a look of bewilderment flitting across her face. Why didn’t this person ask anything? Her expression seemed to suggest she saw through everything, yet also that she cared for nothing.
Before she could speak, Song Boxue stood up. “It’s late. This official should end her shift. Sister Jiang, let us return to the rear quarters together.”
The two returned to the back of the yamen, one following the other. At the point of parting, Jiang Fanyin asked, “Tomorrow morning, shall I proceed as I did today?”
By “the same,” did she mean accompanying that Young General Hua again?
Song Boxue nodded. “There are no major affairs at the yamen. It is enough for Sister Jiang to host Young Master Hua well on my behalf.”
Jiang Fanyin stood outside the courtyard gate, watching her quietly. “If I am not by your side, what if your illness returns?”
“Sister Jiang needn’t worry. I can exercise restraint,” Song Boxue interrupted, turning to walk away.
Watching her retreating figure, Jiang Fanyin’s eyes dimmed. She could clearly feel herself being pushed away. Fine. The most important thing now is my father’s matter. I should set aside these unnecessary worries.
Morning arrived with a deep autumn chill and heavy frost.
Jiang Fanyin looked at the clothes in her wardrobe. Her fingers, as if possessed, landed on a pale green ruqun. Song Boxue’s face flashed through her mind, would that person also prefer to see her in a dress? After all, everyone in the world appreciates beauty.
Outside the gate, the sky was still dim with a light white mist. Song Boxue watched the approaching figure, her gaze sharpening.
Jiang Fanyin’s features were naturally soft, carrying an air of scholarly elegance. The pale green dress complemented her gracefully, giving her a refreshing, natural charm like the “girl next door.”
Without the men’s clothing, she looked exactly as described in the book—a seemingly delicate and soft-hearted beauty, yet one with a needle hidden in the cotton. But, Song Boxue wondered, is this outfit because she’s starting to care about the male lead?
As Jiang Fanyin drew closer and noticed Song Boxue’s scrutinizing gaze, she came to a halt. She feigned looking elsewhere, but her ears seemed to ring with the sound of her own heartbeat—thump, thump, thump—like a cheerful, captivating rattle-drum from her childhood. Her hands, hidden in her sleeves, slowly gripped the fabric, clenching tighter and tighter.
After a long pause, she heard a light chuckle.
“Though they say a woman dresses for the one who delights her, is Sister Jiang not cold?”
The tone sounded slightly flirtatious.
Jiang Fanyin gripped her sleeves even tighter, her thoughts in disarray. “I am not cold.”
The phrase “a woman dresses for the one who delights her” was like someone tearing away the mist covering her heart, explaining exactly why she had been so inexplicably drawn to that dress this morning.
So, I am dressing for the one who delights me.
A secret joy bloomed in the depths of Jiang Fanyin’s heart. This person understands completely. Even if her tone is a bit playful, she said it with a smile.
Song Boxue arched an eyebrow, silently observing Jiang Fanyin’s lowered lashes. Is she blushing?
She hasn’t even seen the guy yet and she’s already blushing, Song Boxue thought with a pout, her tone cooling. “It’s for the best that you aren’t cold. I’m sure Young General Hua will take excellent care of you, Sister Jiang.”
With that, she turned and left.
“I didn’t.”
Didn’t what? Jiang Fanyin couldn’t quite say. But hearing Song Boxue’s obviously strange tone, she instinctively wanted to deny it. Seeing the other woman walking further away without waiting, she hurried to catch up.
The two arrived at the front hall, where Advisor Zhou was waiting as usual.
“Sir. Miss Jiang.” After a formal greeting, Advisor Zhou noted the odd expressions on both their faces. He tactfully slowed his pace, following behind them.
He watched the two walking ahead. Song Boxue was tall and upright; her dark green official robes didn’t look cumbersome on her, but instead lent her a crisp, heroic air. Walking half a step behind, Jiang Fanyin was ethereal in her pale green dress, her figure lithe and graceful. They looked remarkably well-matched.
Thinking of Jiang Wuyi, whose eyes couldn’t hide his adoration, and Hua Jian, who was clearly focused on her, Advisor Zhou gave a silent, cynical smirk. Three men make for quite a play.
Beauty is fine and well, but excessive beauty often leads to trouble. He wondered which “branch” this delicate flower would eventually land on.