Heavy boot soles ground against the floor as the man's footsteps approached, carrying a faint cold fragrance.
Shen Qingyin was kneeling bent over the desk, picking up scattered documents, when her vision was suddenly shrouded in shadow. Then a pair of feet as large as boats came into view.
"My lord."
She hurriedly gathered up the remaining documents, carefully squared them into a neat stack, and pushed them back onto the desk before daring to slowly lift her head.
Her husband stood before her with his hands clasped behind his back, his brow furrowed into a cold, hard crease, his face as if coated in frost.
Shen Qingyin's spine tensed slightly, and as a wave of soreness shot through her waist, she sank down into a kneel.
Husband and wife—one standing, one kneeling.
The tall, straight-backed man looked down indifferently at the slender figure kneeling before him.
His wife's chin was slightly lowered as she said softly, "…I waited for you for a long while just now, my lord, and accidentally knocked over the documents on the desk. I beg your forgiveness."
Shen Qingyin felt somewhat guilty as she said this.
Since marrying Pei Yu, she had had hardly any contact with him outside of the bedchamber.
Yet just now, upon accidentally glimpsing his letter to his childhood sweetheart, for the first time she had felt, truly felt—
a glimpse of the tip of the iceberg of his feelings for the one he loved.
Just as she felt for that person herself.
But the tragedy of this sympathy lay in the fact that he was her husband.
She should not be empathizing with him; she ought to be jealous.
That was how it should be.
The emotions were too complicated, and for a moment Shen Qingyin found them hard to process.
So she froze there dully, to the point that she didn't catch what Pei Yu said.
From beneath lowered lashes, she only vaguely saw the hem of his robe sweep past as he slowly sat down in the grand armchair at the center.
It wasn't until his signature cold fragrance drifted to her nose that her gaze cleared a little.
Pei Yu leaned back against the chair, his scrutinizing gaze tracing the woman at his knees from top to bottom. His eyes swept past the jade rabbit pendant and settled on her layered, somewhat bulky clothing, and he couldn't help asking:
"Why are you bundled up so tightly?"
Though autumn had arrived, the summer heat had not yet fully dispersed.
When he had entered the study just now, he'd seen that her servants, Zhuling and Nanny Qing, were both dressed in light clothing. How was it that she, the mistress, couldn't tell hot from cold?
"I…"
Caught off guard by the question, Shen Qingyin's cheeks instantly flushed a faint red.
But Pei Yu's gaze was far too penetrating. The Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review was accustomed to interrogating people and deciding cases—whatever he wanted to ask, he seemed determined to get to the bottom of.
With no way to avoid it, Shen Qingyin nervously clutched the edge of her collar, unable to speak for a long while.
In her hesitation, she instinctively tugged her collar slightly open, accidentally revealing the mottled marks beside her collarbone that had not yet faded.
Memories of the previous night surged forth, and Pei Yu's eyes sharpened abruptly. His Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably, and inexplicably, his lower abdomen tightened as well.
By now, he understood perfectly well what this woman was trying to do.
He turned his gaze away, avoiding that alluring expanse of pale skin, his tone tinged with a deliberately suppressed tightness.
"Shen-shi. Though Father is urging us, the matter of heirs need not be rushed. You needn't go to such lengths with these maneuvers."
No matter how eager he was to satisfy his father's wishes, he would never, because of her seduction, do something so shameless as to debauch her in broad daylight.
Did she not think—this was the study. Was this a place for that kind of thing?
Hm?
Shen Qingyin froze in place, a flicker of shock and bewilderment passing through her eyes.
So in his eyes, her inadvertent act just now had been twisted into a deliberate seduction?
She straightened her clothing and instinctively protested, "That's not it, my lord—I had no such intention—"
"Say no more." Pei Yu raised a hand and cut her off coolly, his manner distant. "Tell me—did you come here seeking me for any other matter?"
She had already expressly forbidden this woman from entering this place at will, and yet she had dared to come.
Shen Qingyin drew a deep breath and explained, "My lord, when I gave birth to Tang-jie'er, I suffered damage to my primordial essence, and my vitality was greatly depleted. The household physicians have determined I can hardly conceive again."
Pei Yu glanced at her sidelong.
Shen Qingyin's knees had gone numb from kneeling, yet she was still slowly sorting out the words in her mind.
"But Father-in-law says our eldest branch has few descendants, and for the sake of continuing the Pei family line, I intend to select two concubines for you, my lord, so the family tree may spread its branches."
Selecting concubines?
Two of them, no less?
The study plunged into instant dead silence, broken only by the rustle of draft from the window lattice stirring the curtains.
Shen Qingyin had no idea which of her words had displeased him this time.
Or perhaps anything she said displeased him.
With no room left for further thought, she could only bow low against the floor.
The icy bluestone seeped through her thin clothing, steadily gnawing at her knees, soreness and dull aching layering upon each other, spreading along her bones all the way up to her spine.
Under such prolonged silence, the unease in Shen Qingyin's heart only deepened. At last she summoned the courage to lift her gaze—only to meet Pei Yu's eyes, caught between a smile and something else.
Those deep eyes were layered with shadows, impossible to say whether mocking or amused, and he had been silently watching her for who knew how long.
As their gazes clashed, Pei Yu let out a low scoff.
"You made a special trip here today just to discuss this with me?"
"Yes."
Shen Qingyin nodded in assent, straining to hold her back upright, then added slowly, "Only, I don't know what sort of appearance and character you prefer in a woman, my lord, so I came to ask. That way I might instruct the broker to keep an eye out and sift out suitable candidates."
"Heh." Pei Yu sneered again.
"What sort of woman I prefer…"
He had never realized the woman sharing his pillow was so audaciously bold—daring to make decisions on his behalf over his head, leaving him only a sliver of room to choose.
"…Do you know how those brokers select their slaves?"
The contempt in Pei Yu's eyes deepened, and a cold, sharp curve lifted the corner of his lips.
He leaned forward slightly, his well-defined fingers reaching for his wife's face. Imitating how a market broker appraised a slave girl, he gripped Shen Qingyin's jaw, pressed between her teeth, and began examining her carefully.
"…They mostly gather girls from poor families, or the families of convicted officials fallen from registry. Living people, picked over and resold like livestock."
Shen Qingyin bit down hard on her lower lip, unable to tell whether her husband was humiliating her or genuinely teaching her how to select a concubine.
She tried her utmost to convince herself it was the latter, yet the humiliation pierced her heart like fine needle pricks.
If it truly was the latter, she wouldn't know what to do anyway—so it might as well be the former.
Shen Qingyin suppressed her surging emotions and let Pei Yu do as he pleased.
After who knew how long, Pei Yu finally released her.
Shen Qingyin felt as if a weight had lifted, but her prolonged tension, combined with the searing pain in her knees that could no longer support her, meant that before she could even exhale, she pitched sharply forward—
Losing control, she collapsed heavily onto Pei Yu's knee.
A warm, soft weight suddenly pressed down on him. Pei Yu lowered his gaze to see his wife sprawled across his lap, her waterfall of dark hair tangled loose into the embroidery of his robes. That face, usually still as dead water, had at last shed its habitual aloofness, now tinged with a hint of helpless panic.
He had only ever seen her like this in bed.
Pei Yu's words cut off abruptly, a flicker of restlessness passing through his eyes.
"Get up." His face showed displeasure.
Shen Qingyin wanted to get up too, but her legs had gone utterly weak.
Instinctively, she reached to grasp the man's hand for support, but he held his hand suspended in midair, deliberately toying with her, refusing to lower it.
Shen Qingyin only felt more embarrassed and humiliated. Bracing herself against the edge of the chair, she barely managed to straighten up.
She retreated to the side and stood with her head bowed. Only when she saw he was paying her no attention did she dare let her hand drift to her waist.
Feeling that the jade pendant was still intact, she quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
The warmth vanished from his lap. Pei Yu looked unhurriedly at the woman who had composed herself, and said coldly:
"I have no intention of fathering heirs with a woman of unknown origins. If even the duty of bearing children is something you wish to hand off to others, then what use was it for me to marry you in the first place?"
Everything Shen had done just now was an act of feigned weakness and flirtation, and nothing disgusted him more than her theatrics.
Back then, it was her underhanded schemes that cost him his dignity and forced him to obey the Emperor's decree and take her as his wife.
Yet in these three years, she had failed both externally—failing to manage the Pei family's affairs in good order—and internally, failing to bear a legitimate son.
And now she even dared to play the modest, magnanimous wife, retreating only to advance, offering to take concubines for him.
Pei Yu felt sick.
What he couldn't understand was how a general's daughter, raised in a military household, could be so deeply scheming.
Shen Qingyin stared blankly at him, but the man had already taken up his brush and unrolled a memorial, saying coldly, "If there is nothing else, you may go."
It was a dismissal.
"…No. There is one matter I wish to ask you about, my lord."
Shen Qingyin gripped the back of the chair, pretending not to see the man's face, dark as dripping ink.
"I would like to ask you about the Skin-Painting Soul-Claiming case."
In truth, a month ago, when she had returned to the Shen residence, her younger brother Shen Cong had given her a rough account: the Skin-Painting Soul-Claiming case had begun when strange occurrences erupted one after another in Yangzhou. Multiple corpses—already recorded in the government's death registries and buried in the earth—had appeared again.
By day, their temperaments had completely changed; by night, they committed murder and sowed chaos.
Moreover, graveyards in the desolate outskirts had been dug up in swathes, the skin flayed cruelly from every corpse in its coffin. The methods were grotesque and horrifying beyond measure.
The local prefect investigated repeatedly without a single lead, and in desperation reported it to the court. Emperor Yan immediately appointed Pei Yu to travel to Jiangnan and handle the investigation.
Pei Yu did not fail the Emperor's expectations—in only a month, he successfully solved the sinister case.
But it was a secret case under strict imperial lockdown. If Shen Qingyin wanted to learn more, she could only inquire through Pei Yu.
He never expected his wife to ask him about such a thing. Pei Yu's brow knitted sharply, his brush pausing as ink bloomed into a black blot on the documents.
"This case involves matters of state secrecy. It is not for a cloistered woman like you to question."
"I—"
"Enough." Pei Yu cut her off sharply, impatience settling over his features, making it plain he would not discuss it further.
"Go home."
Shen Qingyin gazed at the man's cold, distant profile. The faint light in her eyes wore away bit by bit, until at last it settled into a pool of dead, motionless water.
What he meant to say, she thought, was probably "get lost."
She clenched her hands inside her sleeves and answered respectfully: "Yes."
The woman obediently left the study. Pei Yu glanced idly over her sluggish retreating figure, feeling only irritation.
His gaze dropped back to the pile of documents, then suddenly froze on that letter, his eyes darkening at once.
Had she seen it?
……
After leaving the study, Shen Qingyin walked slowly toward Bishan Court with Zhuling and Nanny Qing.
She dared not forget Liang Wanyou's instructions from that morning, and planned to seek out Madam Wei herself to clear up the matter from the day before.
Her waist ached terribly—she could not endure another kneeling punishment and copying scriptures.
Yet the three of them stood waiting beneath the eaves outside the courtyard for a long while, from high noon until the sun slanted westward, and the gate of Bishan Court remained firmly shut. No matter how Zhuling knocked, no one answered.
They waited a full two hours.
Just as Shen Qingyin was hesitating over whether to return tomorrow, she suddenly heard faint footsteps from within. She turned toward the sound and saw Luye pushing the gate open, a food box hanging from her arm.
A faint glimmer flashed through Shen Qingyin's eyes, and she hurriedly called out to her.
"Luye."
Luye acted as if she hadn't heard, hurrying straight on without any intention of responding. "Luye!"
In her haste, Shen Qingyin instinctively stepped forward.
But having knelt for too long in the study, her legs gave out the moment she put her weight on them—her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed straight to the ground.
"Madam, careful!" Zhuling cried out, rushing forward to grip Shen Qingyin's arm firmly, barely steadying her teetering form.
The commotion finally caught Luye's attention. She halted, and only then reluctantly turned around.
"I wonder what instructions the First Madam has for this servant?"
Shen Qingyin suppressed the numbness shooting through her legs and said evenly, "Is your mistress free at the moment?"
Her mistress?
Shen-that-woman actually dared to mention her mistress!
The pent-up fury in Luye's heart surged up at once.
At Jun-ge'er's First Birthday Grab Ceremony, not only had Shen-that-woman gifted a worthless broken wooden sword, but of all things, Jun-ge'er had grabbed it!
Her mistress, with nowhere to vent her rage, had blamed her instead—saying it was because she had accepted the wooden sword and put it out that Jun-ge'er had grabbed it, and docked a full month's wages over it!
Now, seeing the very instigator dare bring up the matter, Luye could no longer contain her resentment.
A mocking sneer curled at her lips, her chin lifting slightly. "My mistress isn't as idle as some others. She's currently hosting a banquet for the Marchioness of Jingyuan. I'm afraid she has no time to see the First Madam."
"The Marchioness of Jingyuan?" Shen Qingyin paused.
Wasn't that Madam Wei's own elder sister, the second wife of the Marquis of Jingyuan?
Her thoughts raced as one old memory after another connected in her mind.
Liang Luoying, the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Jingyuan by his first wife—Pei Yu's cousin—had married the Military Governor of Youzhou three years ago. After the wedding, the Marquis of Jingyuan's entire family had settled in Youzhou, staying far from Shangjing and rarely setting foot back in the imperial capital.
They had been living peacefully in Youzhou, yet had suddenly returned to Shangjing for no reason—and the Marchioness of Jingyuan had even come to the Pei residence in person—
In that instant, Shen Qingyin inexplicably thought of the letter in the study.