Xie Zhi stood before Yuan Yingti's bed. Just then, the clouds shifted away, revealing the tip of the moon, whose faint glow fell upon her face.
In the quiet night, her eyes were closed, her breathing even and steady—she slept deeply and soundly.
She looked nothing like someone who lay awake all night, unable to sleep, catching people in the dark.
Xie Zhi stared at her expressionlessly.
Her sleeping posture was not as docile as her temperament. Her silk-like long hair lay in disarray upon her shoulders, the brocade quilt was kicked aside at one corner, and one arm had slipped out from beneath the covers, dangling softly over the edge of the bed.
That half-bare arm was snowy white, delicate, and slender, her fingertips nearly touching the floor, suspended there in emptiness.
If she slept in this position all night, the next day her shoulder would ache so badly she wouldn't be able to lift it.
Xie Zhi frowned, leaned over, and grasped her wrist, returning her arm to the bed.
She did not wake; her breathing remained steady. Her arm lay limply in his palm, as if awaiting his every command.
Xie Zhi lowered his eyes, his fingers sliding slowly down from her wrist bone.
He gently pinched her hand.
The touch between his fingers was warm and soft, as though there were no bones at all.
He could not resist gently kneading it.
Xie Zhi was not afraid of her waking—he could invent countless excuses to fob her off, and she would certainly not lose her temper. He had long known she was a soft persimmon, to be squeezed at will.
Xie Zhi toyed with her hand again and again. This was not the first time he had touched her hand. He looked down—her nails were trimmed clean and rounded. He had cut them himself.
He was getting better and better at serving people.
Serving, no less, another man's woman.
Xie Zhi lowered his eyes and kneaded for a good while, as if venting his anger. Only when those cloying sweet nothings finally faded from his ears did he slowly release her.
Yuan Yingti was still fast asleep. The moonlight grew brighter, setting off her powdered face, cherry lips, and snowy white neck. She seemed to glow, beautiful and exquisite, utterly out of place in this cramped room and this narrow courtyard.
Like a swan penned in the mud.
Xie Zhi gave a light laugh. No wonder he—a toad—lusted after swan meat. A beauty like this, had she not fallen on hard times, would not even deign to speak to the likes of him, a lowlife.
Now that she was briefly imprisoned by him, it was only natural that he should covet her, that he should want to steal a bite while he had the chance.
Anyone who got their hands on her would think the same. That Pei Shuyu surely would too—he was nothing but a toad dressed in gold.
Through the darkness, Xie Zhi twisted his lips in mockery.
The irritating sweet nothings had vanished from his ears, and seeing that she had not, as she had claimed, been pining for a man in the middle of the night, he made ready to slip away quietly. But before he left, he caught sight of her bare forearm. He paused for a moment, then could not help slowly folding down the cuff she had rolled up, wanting to cover her properly.
But this superfluous gesture seemed to tickle her.
In her sleep, Yuan Yingti rubbed her arm haphazardly and slowly turned over to face outward. She lay on her side, and the moonlight clearly traced her curves.
Her hair half-veiled her face. Her chin was pointed, her snowy neck dipped into a soft, graceful curve, her thin shoulder blades rose like butterfly wings, then sank deeper along the hollow of her waist. The front of her garment had come loose, revealing a hint of water-red.
Xie Zhi's gaze was drawn there beyond his control, and beyond his control, he instantly thought of what he should not.
Water-red—mandarin ducks at play in the water.
He averted his gaze with great effort, turning around. He wanted to pretend he hadn't seen anything, but his body was more honest than he was.
Xie Zhi walked out of the room, his face dark and grim.
That night, Yuan Yingti remained oblivious, sleeping soundly, never hearing his comings and goings.
Nor did she hear how, in the dead of night, someone poured three full buckets of well water over their own head in the courtyard.
…
The weather was clear, the sunlight warm and gentle. A breeze drifted through the courtyard as Yuan Yingti strolled about the small yard.
The broken flagstones had already been repaired bit by bit by Xie Zhi, and now every step she took was steady, with no more stumbling.
Xie Zhi walked out of her room carrying a bamboo basket, piled high with clothes—all the garments Yuan Yingti had changed out of that morning. She was fond of cleanliness and changed her clothes once every day.
So he washed clothes every day, and today was no exception.
Xie Zhi rolled up his sleeves, filled the basin with water, and first washed all her outer robes and skirts. Then, with a blank expression, he reached for her undergarments and drawers.
These past days, her undergarments and drawers were still washed by him.
Originally, he had harbored the intention of offending her, deliberately trying to provoke her into shame and annoyance. But since the first time, her face had never shown any sign of embarrassment again, and she had never once stopped him.
And so this task, like a hot potato, had fallen entirely into his hands.
Xie Zhi scrubbed with a cold face. On the water-red bodice, a pair of crimson mandarin ducks nestled together in tender embrace, the embroidery thread growing even more vivid and vibrant in the water.
So it was this one after all.
Yuan Yingti naturally heard the sound of his washing, but she pretended to be deaf and mute.
She hated doing laundry. She disliked the feeling of wet skirts clinging to her legs, and she disliked the squelching sound of waterlogged shoes.
Anyway, A-Nu had already washed her undergarments and drawers for her.
Washing once and washing every time made no difference.
The clothes were washed, flung open, and draped over the drying rack. Water droplets dripped down one by one, and the air was filled with the fresh fragrance of soap pods.
Yuan Yingti, a silk ribbon bound over her eyes, sat before the grape trellis. In spring, all things revived, and the withered vines on the trellis had sprouted tender green leaves.
She touched the tiny leaves and turned to Xie Zhi in surprise. "A-Nu, the grapevine is still alive."
Xie Zhi had long noticed that the withered vine had sprouted buds. He responded with a calm, flat voice.
But Yuan Yingti was overjoyed. She loved living plants. Back in the marquis's estate, she had filled the courtyard with flowers, and now this small yard finally had vegetation of its own.
She had never grown grapes before. Yuan Yingti stroked the young leaves and asked Xie Zhi, "A-Nu, when can we eat the grapes?"
"Come autumn."
Yuan Yingti hadn't expected it to take so long. She let out a soft "ah" and murmured, "I wonder if they'll be sweet."
Xie Zhi heard her and said with a half-smile, "By then, the young lady will have married into the Pei household. There will be endless sweet grapes for you—no need to pine over this one vine in the courtyard."
His tone sounded a little strange, and Yuan Yingti turned to "look" at him, following the sound.
"Young lady, do you think I'm wrong?"
"I don't know if you're right or wrong," Yuan Yingti sighed softly. "Perhaps I won't marry into the Pei household after all."
Xie Zhi kept the same tone: "The young lady and Young Master Pei share mutual affection. How could you not marry over?"
Yuan Yingti muttered under her breath, "He might not marry me."
Her voice was very soft, but Xie Zhi heard it. He paused, slowly lifting his eyes. "Is the young lady in unrequited love?"
"Mmm…" Yuan Yingti didn't know how to answer him.
Seeing that her expression seemed to hold unspoken difficulties, Xie Zhi narrowed his eyes and walked toward her step by step.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the grape trellis, tilting his head to look at her: "Didn't the young lady say in her letter that you liked him very much?"
After asking, Xie Zhi watched her face carefully, not letting any subtle abnormality escape him.
Yuan Yingti was completely unguarded with him, all her expressions laid bare. Xie Zhi saw her delicate brow tips furrow, her pink, plump lips bite down lightly, and she murmured softly: "Between Brother Pei and me, there's no like or dislike."
"What does that mean?" He followed up immediately.
Yuan Yingti didn't really want to say more. She knew her little calculations weren't exactly honorable, and tried to deflect: "Nothing, it's hard to explain in a word…"
But Xie Zhi wouldn't let her off.
He took a step closer to her: "Young lady, take your time. I'm very free."
Yuan Yingti: "Let's just forget it…"
"I want to hear it."
"But I don't know how to say it…"
"Say it however you want, young lady. I'm not in a hurry." Xie Zhi didn't yield an inch.
He deliberately pressured her like this, and sure enough, even a soft persimmon when pushed to the edge won't refuse. Yuan Yingti honestly lowered her head and said slowly: "Alright then."
"Then I'll tell you, but you mustn't tell anyone else." She instructed in a small voice.
"I won't." Xie Zhi agreed extremely quickly.
Yuan Yingti struggled with herself, but still honestly confessed to him: "Actually, Brother Pei and I aren't familiar at all. We haven't met many times, and I've almost forgotten even what we've said to each other."
"But the young lady's letter said you admired him."
Yuan Yingti propped her chin up worriedly: "Father has passed away. I can't keep burdening you here forever. I need to find myself a support."
Finding a wealthy husband was indeed better than relying on him.
Xie Zhi pondered: "So that's why the young lady wants him to marry you."
"We have a betrothal after all. If Brother Pei keeps his promise, I'll have support in the future."
But Xie Zhi suddenly asked:
"Young lady, do you like him?"
Yuan Yingti frowned and thought for a moment, then shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
Yuan Yingti nodded slowly.
"But the young lady's letter was written so tenderly, it didn't seem fake." He stared at her intently.
Yuan Yingti's ear tips reddened slightly: "I copied that from a storybook." She often listened to her maids read her storybooks about young gentlemen and ladies, and those romantic words she could recite at the drop of a hat.
Xie Zhi was speechless for a moment.
After a long while, he slowly lowered his head and smiled faintly.
The gentle sunlight reflected on his face, the spring breeze brushed his cheeks, a few strands of loose hair on his forehead were lifted, swaying before his raised brows and eyes.
He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat and said: "If that's the case, why do you two have a betrothal?"
"Father arranged it."
"He told you to marry and you'll marry?"
"Of course."
Xie Zhi: "…"
He slowly leaned toward her and whispered: "Words like 'parents' command and matchmaker's words' can only fool a fool."
Yuan Yingti was stunned: "I'm not a fool."
"Then why must your marriage be arranged by your father?" He said slowly, "Marquis Yong'an has passed away. The young lady can refuse to acknowledge this betrothal."
But Yuan Yingti looked confused: "Why refuse? If I don't marry Brother Pei, who will support me?"
Xie Zhi paused again.
The word "I" rolled across the tip of his tongue, but he didn't say it out loud.
What could he compare with that gold-clad toad?
Don't humiliate yourself.
The smile on Xie Zhi's face slowly faded, and he averted his gaze elsewhere. "Miss can support herself."
"Me?" Yuan Yingti pointed at herself with her index finger. "I'm a useless little thing—how could I support myself?"
"Who said you're useless?" Xie Zhi frowned.
"Father did." Yuan Yingti turned toward him, pressing her lips into a smile. "A-Nu, have you forgotten? My eyes are blind."
"Even so, Miss is not useless. What your father said is wrong."
"No, he's right." Yuan Yingti shook her head. "I can't do anything. I only burden others and can only rely on others."
"You are not useless." Xie Zhi repeated. "What he said is wrong."
"Father would never be wrong." Yuan Yingti argued with him, her voice rising just a little.
"He's wrong."
"He's not wrong."
This was the first time Xie Zhi had seen Yuan Yingti persist so stubbornly in contradicting him.
The soft persimmon had suddenly started to crunch.
Xie Zhi's voice grew heavier, each word measured: "He is wrong."
"A-Nu, you must not speak of Father that way." Yuan Yingti grew anxious, her hazy eyes seeming about to well up with tears, her slender hands twisting tightly together. "Father will be angry."