Ming Shu clenched her fists, her palms damp with fine sweat.
Soon, she felt her head growing heavier, struggling even to lift her eyelids.
Leaning against the carriage, Ming Shu gradually loosened her grip and slowly slumped down.
Yan Wei was caught off guard as she fell against him, the hairpin on her head grazing his cheek and leaving a bloody scratch.
The slight sting made Yan Wei’s expression turn half-cold.
He looked down at the culprit, whose breathing was even and whose faint scent of wine lingered in the air.
For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether the wine scent came from himself or from Ming Shu.
Yan Wei raised his hand, grabbed Ming Shu by the neck, and threw her out like a sack.
But he hadn’t paid attention to his strength.
Ming Shu slammed straight into the carriage with a loud thud.
Duan Cang pulled the carriage to the side of the road and turned to ask, “General, what happened?”
Ming Shu’s misty eyes filled with tears, her red lips parting slightly: “It hurts…”
Yan Wei rubbed his temples: “It’s nothing. Keep driving.”
Duan Cang simply replied, “Yes.”
But that soft, pained cry made the corners of his mouth curl up wider and wider.
So the General was also such an impatient man. But then again, the General was no longer young, just as Old Feng had said—it was time for him to marry.
Inside the carriage.
Yan Wei was deeply troubled, for after Ming Shu let out a soft cry, she had fallen asleep again.
Her body seemed to have eyes, as she once again slumped right against him.
This time, Yan Wei dared not move recklessly.
But the faint, elusive fragrance of the woman, mingled with the slight intoxication, made Yan Wei’s breathing grow increasingly erratic.
He was, after all, a perfectly normal man, and it was only natural for him to react.
Yan Wei closed his eyes, silently reciting a mantra to clear his mind.
But it was all in vain.
Ming Shu’s arm suddenly wrapped around Yan Wei’s waist, her soft, rosy lips murmuring two words: “Cousin…”
Who knew what Ming Shu was dreaming of.
But that word “cousin” made Yan Wei’s eyes grow even darker, the intensity within them scorching enough to burn. The soft, gentle touch and the occasional mingling of breaths—
each one plucked at the strings of his heart.
Yan Wei pinched Ming Shu’s cheek with two fingers: “What did you say, cousin?”
“Mmm…” The already drunken woman could offer no response beyond occasional murmurs.
Yan Wei’s gaze fell on Ming Shu’s brows, then down to her small, high-bridged nose, further down to those rosy, flower-like lips, and further still…
Yan Wei suddenly let out a soft “ha” through his teeth.
Then he shut his eyes tightly, forcing away distracting thoughts.
Fortunately, Ming Shu remained in that position without moving again until they reached the mansion.
As soon as the carriage stopped, Tang Li hurried over from behind.
But after waiting a moment, Ming Shu still hadn’t emerged.
Tang Li glanced at Duan Cang, who remained indifferent.
With no other choice, Tang Li whispered, “Miss?”
A voice more authoritative than usual came from inside: “Help her down.”
Tang Li was shocked.
Carefully lifting the carriage curtain, she saw her mistress clinging to Yan Wei, refusing to let go.
Like a clinging vine.
Tang Li’s heart trembled as she stepped forward: “Miss? Miss?”
There was no response.
Tang Li steeled herself and tried to pull Ming Shu away.
Her strength was a bit too much—she managed to pull her away but nearly tumbled out of the carriage herself.
Fortunately, Duan Cang blocked her from outside.
Duan Cang said, “Be careful, maid. If you hurt the young miss, you’ll be in trouble.”
Tang Li paid no mind to Duan Cang: “Yuan Rong, come quickly and help the miss.”
Yuan Rong was just about to carry the items into the mansion when she heard Tang Li’s call and hurried over.
After Yuan Rong carried Ming Shu on her back, with Tang Li following closely behind as they returned to the courtyard, Yan Wei finally straightened his clothes and stepped down from the carriage.
Duan Cang glanced discreetly—the clothes were wrinkled.
The corner of his mouth curved slightly.
Yan Wei returned to change into everyday attire, pressing his slightly throbbing temples. As he lifted his sleeve, it seemed the faint scent of a woman still lingered.
Upon closer inspection, it came from his fingers.
Subtle, delicate, and quietly pervasive—it was hard to resist.
Yan Wei picked up a military book, forcing himself to stop wandering thoughts.
Meanwhile, Ming Shu woke up after sleeping for eight hours.
Her first sensation was a headache.
Tang Li exclaimed with delight, “Miss, you’re finally awake!”
“What?” Had she slept for a long time?
“Miss has never been drunk before, so this servant was worried your body couldn’t handle it.”
Ming Shu felt extremely uncomfortable. After taking a sip of the tea Tang Li brought her, she slowly exhaled a heavy breath.
She asked, “What time is it?”
“It’s Chen hour.”
Oh, Chen hour.
Wait…
Ming Shu looked up again, “Chen hour? How long did I sleep?”
“Miss slept for eight hours. If you hadn’t woken up, this servant would have gone to fetch a physician.”
Eight hours was indeed a long time.
Ming Shu slumped back down in exhaustion—her head hurt, her shoulders ached, her arms were sore…
Tang Li tentatively asked, “Does Miss remember what happened in the carriage yesterday?”
Ming Shu thought for a moment and shook her head, “No, I don’t.”
Tang Li said, “Yesterday, when the carriage arrived outside the mansion gate, Miss didn’t get out for a long time. The General instructed this servant to help you down. When I entered the carriage, I saw…”
A bad premonition rose in Ming Shu’s heart, so she interrupted, “Stop! Little Tang Li, your Miss’s hand hurts. Let’s talk about it later.”
“But Miss, this happened when you stubbornly clung to the General’s waist, and this servant had no choice but to pull you away, causing you to twist it.”
Tang Li expressed her sorrow—she hadn’t wanted it to be this way either.
Ming Shu turned her head mechanically, struggling to speak, “What… did you say?”
She had clung to Yan Wei’s waist?
When did that happen?
“Miss, don’t ask anymore. Lord Duan told this servant that the injury on your shoulder was likely from hitting the carriage.”
But how could she have hit the carriage for no reason?
Ming Shu covered her face, too ashamed to face anyone.
What happened in the carriage was unknown to Duan Cang, even less to Tang Li. The only person who knew, Ming Shu dared not ask.
Looking at these sinful hands, Ming Shu felt waves of suffocation.
Would her cousin think she did it on purpose?
She was truly, utterly wronged!
Gu Yingzhen had drunk the same fruit wine without issue, which only proved Ming Shu’s tolerance was still too weak.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t known this beforehand and ended up making a fool of herself.
Ming Shu suddenly sat up.
No, she had to apologize.
Tang Li seemed to read her thoughts and said hesitantly, “Lord Duan mentioned that the General likely won’t be at the mansion these few days.”
Ming Shu closed her eyes in despair, “Why… why?”
“His Majesty assigned the General some duties, so he won’t be returning to the mansion these days.”
Ming Shu slumped down, covering her face.
What a mess this was!
She tried to recall what happened after she grew drowsy in the carriage, and suddenly, a flash of insight struck her.
So that was how she ended up hitting the carriage—she was thrown against it!
Well, it was also her own fault.
She didn’t know if her cousin would overthink it. She had always been well-behaved, just wanting to be a proper cousin, never harboring any delusions.
Surely her cousin would understand, right?
Just then, the main kitchen delivered the meal, and Tang Li asked where she would like to have breakfast.
Ming Shu had just made a decision.
She decided that once her cousin returned, she would go and apologize.
The storybooks all said that if one dared to reach beyond their station, they would surely be shattered to pieces.
She valued her life.