Su Yihan couldn’t dodge—Shen Yu lifted her straw hat and toyed with it in his hands.
Tao Chun had rested, so no one was tidying Su Yihan’s long, smooth black hair. She casually lifted it with a jade hairpin, loosely arranged; a single tug, and it fell apart.
The hairpin slipped to the ground and shattered into pieces.
Su Yihan’s skin was pale as snow, her cool, distant eyes giving off a faint melancholy. Her three thousand strands of hair fluttered in the breeze, breathtakingly beautiful—one glance was enough to taint the air.
Shen Yu was momentarily dazed, snapped back by the faintly mocking curl of her lips:
“Shen Yu, could you be the reincarnation of a rogue?”
Such an offense against a lady done so smoothly and naturally.
Shen Yu lowered his gaze to the straw hat in his hand, ethereal in its elegance, and chuckled lightly:
“Hmm, a rogue’s specialty is violating beautiful girls.”
Before Su Yihan could retort, the sound of the shattered hairpin attracted the attention of the guards:
“Who’s there?”
Shen Yu grabbed Su Yihan’s delicate wrist and led her to a concealed corner, pressing her close to him. Her cheek rested against his chest, and she could feel his heartbeat.
His body radiated warmth, and her hand had nowhere to rest; any movement would brush against him.
Shen Yu covered her mouth to prevent her from calling out and alerting anyone.
Su Yihan had never been this close to a living man. Even her father, who doted on her, maintained proper decorum—men and women didn’t touch.
The guards checked the area, finding no one, and whispered to each other:
“Did I just hear things?”
One urged leaving quickly:
“Better not linger in a deceased person’s courtyard—it’s eerie. The Han heiress died humiliated; her lingering resentment must be strong. Maybe her spirit is throwing things in her room… best to leave quickly…”
Finally, the guards left. Shen Yu released his hold, and Su Yihan gasped for breath.
In the moonlight, Shen Yu noticed her pale face and, concerned, asked:
“Su Yihan… how can I help you?”
Su Yihan pushed him away, steadied herself against the wall, and took some medicine from her sleeve, swallowing it dry. Gradually, her breathing returned to normal.
A faint chill gleamed in her eyes:
“No next time—General probably wouldn’t want to experience a bone fracture.”
Shen Yu exhaled, helpless:
“Miss Su, who would want to associate with someone with a temper like yours?”
Su Yihan ignored him and called for “Di Yuanxiu,” heading back to her residence.
Shen Yu stayed silent, but Su Yihan felt someone tailing them at a distance until they reached the Su residence, where the follower finally disappeared.
The next day.
Su Yihan was having breakfast in the courtyard when Tao Chun came running from the long corridor, lifting her skirts:
“Miss, General Shen is here again!”
Su Yihan sipped her bland porridge without interest.
By imperial order, Shen Yu could collaborate with her father on the Han family case, so his visit to the Su residence was no surprise.
“Miss!” Tao Chun’s face turned red with indignation:
“General Shen is here to see you!”
“Huh?” Su Yihan raised her eyelids.
Tao Chun, full of resentment, said:
“I knew it—his intentions are dubious!”
Su Yihan chuckled silently, finishing her meal slowly, then leisurely proceeded to the main hall.
Shen Yu was playing chess with her father.
Su Yihan watched from the side. The board seemed in her father’s favor, but Shen Yu had been planning moves long ahead; all of her father’s pieces were within his strategy.
Suddenly, Su Yihan’s playful temper surfaced. She abandoned her observer role, plucked a piece from the jar, and placed it on the board.
In an instant, the situation reversed.
Su Yihan’s chess style mirrored her personality—decisive, aggressive, relentless.
Shen Yu smiled:
“I concede.”
His original strategy was aimed at Su Jin; Su Yihan’s move completely disrupted his plans.
Su Jin laughed heartily:
“Little Shen, yielding graciously.”
He had always known his daughter was clever, but hadn’t expected a single piece to make Shen Yu concede.
Yet Su Yihan found Shen Yu’s concession dull; it wasn’t a deadlock, and the game could have continued fiercely.
Shen Yu understood her meaning, tidying the board as he explained:
“I came to discuss the Han family case with Sir Su, and also to present a gift.”
From his sleeve, Shen Yu produced a beautiful jade hairpin, more translucent and elegant than the one she had broken the night before.
Young women loved exquisite ornaments; Su Yihan’s eyes almost lit up.
Maintaining her composure, she glanced briefly and turned away:
“No reward without merit.”
Shen Yu handed the hairpin to Tao Chun, nodding slightly:
“I also have a question to ask Miss Su.”
Su Yihan: “…”
Clearly an apology, yet he wanted to ask a question as if expecting payment.
Before her father, Su Yihan smiled faintly at Shen Yu:
“You are truly considerate, General.”
“Just ordinary,” Shen Yu admitted calmly.
He accepted the gift graciously. As for the question he wanted to ask, it wasn’t asked immediately.
Di Yuanxin had already taken the footprint sketch to find its owner.
In prison, the Kong father and son endured torture yet refused to confess. Kong Wenlang even attempted suicide to prove his innocence but failed; bleeding heavily, he continued to live, unable to die.
The case remained at an impasse.
Han Mao, embarrassed, wanted to resolve it quickly, kneeling daily before the Taihe Hall, pleading:
“Your Majesty, my daughter Han Ruichu died tragically. Her honor destroyed, I cannot bear to see her body repeatedly violated during investigation, yet the real culprit remains free. Evidence is clear—please punish the offender swiftly!”
Kneeling, he kowtowed repeatedly.
Inside the hall, Imperial Consort Han Yirou massaged Emperor Yunli’s shoulders softly:
“Your Majesty, my brother dearly loves his daughter. With the Kong family’s evidence clear, why has the verdict not yet been delivered?”
Having secured Yunli’s favor through beauty for years, Han Yirou, in a pale pink skirt, spoke in soft, gentle tones, putting him at ease.
He took her delicate hand and kissed it lightly, assuring:
“Do not worry, my love. I have my considerations.”
Pressure from the Han family demanded a swift verdict, but Su Jin stubbornly refused, claiming Kong Wenlang was not the true culprit despite the evidence.
Su Jin’s power had grown; he could not openly favor one side.
Han Yirou, pouting, added:
“My heart aches for Chuer’s death. I keep dreaming of her, restless. Her delicate body lying in the mortuary dishonors her honor…”
Her eyes glistened with tears. Yunli, softened, said:
“All right, all right, my love. Don’t cry. I will deliver a verdict soon.”