Because a fatal case had just occurred and the people from Jingzhao Prefecture had only just withdrawn, Jingguosi was very quiet.
The dark chamber where she had spent the night with Pei Yuan was in the northwest corner behind the main hall.
Before she could even approach, a young monk blocked Shen Chu’s path.
“Please stop, benefactor. A distinguished guest is staying up ahead.”
Shen Chu was surprised.
Wasn’t this the dark chamber where incense and candles were stored?
Who could be so peculiar as to stay in such a dim room?
“May I ask the young master to announce me? I’m looking for something and will leave very soon.”
“Please wait a moment, benefactor.”
The young monk entered the courtyard and soon came back out.
“The distinguished guest invites the young gentleman in.”
Shen Chu thanked the monk and pushed the door open. A gust of force suddenly came at her face.
She instinctively dodged sideways, but the jade-bone fan in midair abruptly changed direction and smacked her on the calf with a snap.
Her calf stung, and she knelt on the ground.
A slightly cold voice sounded above her head.
“You disturbed this prince’s sweet dream. Do you know your crime?”
That voice…
Pei Yuan again!
Shen Chu silently cursed her bad luck and instinctively glanced out the window.
The lingering sunset at the horizon was red as blood. It was still daylight—what sweet dream could he be having?
A daydream?
She lowered her eyes and cupped her hands. “Shen Chu did not know Your Highness the Sixth Prince was here. Forgive my disturbance.”
While apologizing, she used the pretext of responding to quickly scan the room, especially around the bed, the bedposts, and even under the bed.
She found no pouch.
Could she have guessed wrong—had the pouch not fallen here?
Or had Pei Yuan already picked it up?
As she hesitated, darkness suddenly fell before her eyes.
Pei Yuan’s cool voice sounded above her head. “Caught with leverage by this prince, and now you grovel so?”
“Where’s the pride of a scholar? That unyielding spirit of yours that would rather break than bend?”
Shen Chu gave a dry laugh. “Shen Chu does understand the principle that he who is flexible with the times is a hero.”
Pei Yuan laughed with utter disdain. “Raise your head and repeat what you just said to this prince’s face.”
Shen Chu looked up.
Pei Yuan was leaning diagonally against the head of the bed, one arm propped on his knee, looking down at her from above. Heavy shadows lay under his eyes, and a trace of menace floated in his reddened gaze.
This fellow was truly capricious.
Shen Chu looked away and slightly lowered her eyes. “Shen Chu was immature before and offended Your Highness. I beg your forgiveness.”
“Tch. Your words don’t match your heart. Speak—what are you doing here?”
Shen Chu pressed her lips together, not daring to say she had come looking for the pouch.
Her gaze discreetly swept over the bed behind Pei Yuan. The bed was neatly made, and one glance reached its edge—no sign of the pouch.
But she accidentally caught sight of a small patch of dried blood on it.
Her face instantly burned. That… was her maiden’s blood.
A whole day had passed, yet the bedsheet was still the same one from last night.
What kind of quirk did Pei Yuan have?
Lying down to sleep on it without letting anyone clean it up?
Did he perhaps sleep more soundly that way?
Last night’s scenes instantly surfaced in her mind, and her face grew even hotter.
“Speak. Did you come looking for something?”
Not getting an answer from her, Pei Yuan grew somewhat impatient.
Her heart pounded wildly. Afraid Pei Yuan might see through her, she blurted out, “Shen Chu came to see Your Highness, to ask what I must do for you to forget what I saw this morning.”
Tch.
Pei Yuan’s bewitching phoenix eyes held a trace of cold mockery.
“Bargaining with this prince?”
“Shen Chu would not dare.”
“It’s best that you don’t dare. Don’t try to test this prince again, or I’ll throw you straight into Jingzhao Prefecture.”
Shen Chu silently cursed Pei Yuan’s ancestors nineteen generations back in her heart.
Not only had she failed to find the pouch, she’d run into Pei Yuan, her sworn enemy, yet again. What rotten luck.
The room fell quiet. The setting sun sank, and the room grew darker bit by bit.
Shen Chu stretched her numb legs and lifted her head slightly, only to see Pei Yuan leaning against the head of the bed, eyes half-closed, seemingly asleep.
She quietly rose to leave.
“Did this prince say you could go?”
Shen Chu froze. “What will it take for Your Highness to let Shen Chu leave?”
“The moment I fall asleep is the moment you may go.”
Shen Chu… If you can’t sleep all night, am I supposed to kneel here all night too?
Her eyes shifted, landing on a scroll of scripture placed on the table nearby.
It was a scroll of the Dabanruojing, with a sheet of xuan paper beneath it, only the beginning written.
“Shen Chu is willing to copy the scripture for Your Highness in atonement.”
Pei Yuan gave a snort and said nothing.
Shen Chu took that as tacit permission, rolled up her sleeves, sat down, and began copying.
The room was silent.
Pei Yuan turned his head, his gaze falling on Shen Chu as she bent over the desk writing.
He saw her posture upright as a stand of slender bamboo, wrist raised with brush in hand, strokes flowing smoothly, the section of wrist exposed beyond her sleeve slender and fair.
Tch. A man, yet his wrist was fairer than a woman’s.
He gave a cold snort and slowly closed his eyes.
Shen Chu finished copying one scroll of scripture, sensed that the breathing behind her had grown steady, and turned to see Pei Yuan leaning against the head of the bed, seemingly fast asleep.
She quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
The pouch was unfindable today—she would just have to think of another way to look for it.
Shen Chu tiptoed out.
Not long after she left, Pei Yuan woke.
His personal eunuch Jin Bao came in lighting a lamp and asked softly, “While the scent in the room hasn’t fully faded, would Your Highness like to sleep a while longer?”
Pei Yuan shook his head and slowly rose.
He had had trouble sleeping since childhood, plagued year-round by nightmares, yet last night, after a night of passion with a strange woman, he had slept deeply—so deeply he hadn’t even noticed when she left.
That was unprecedented.
So he had kept this dark room, not letting anyone tidy it, wanting to test whether the scent in the room aided sleep.
Who knew he’d barely fallen asleep before being woken by Shen Chu.
Pei Yuan drew the lake-blue pouch from his robes and sniffed it gently at the tip of his nose. The cool fragrance emanating from it calmed his gloomy mood.
“Check us out of this room. It seems what truly put me to sleep was this pouch.”
Jin Bao was overjoyed. “So the medicinal ingredients in the pouch are useful? Why not have the imperial physician back home formulate a prescription with the same ingredients? It might let Your Highness sleep.”
“Mm. And Sun Yan? Has he found out who the woman was who was with me last night?”
“He’s already looking into it. We’ve collected a pouch containing calming herbs from every household and are comparing them now. It’s just that quite a few ladies came along for the worship, so it won’t be easy to find her right away.”
Having finished his report, Jin Bao couldn’t help asking, “Your Highness, haven’t you always looked down on young Zhuangyuan Shen? Why did you let him off today?”
Pei Yuan’s eyelids lifted slightly. Recalling how, early that morning, he had seen Shen Chu throw two corpses into the Marchioness of Changning’s room without so much as a change of expression, he gave a faint smile:
“The whole Changning Hou family are spineless cowards. I’d assumed Shen Chu was too, but watching him today, he seems to have a bit of backbone.”
Backbone?
Jin Bao scratched his head, recalling Shen Chu’s gentle and refined demeanor. “How did Your Highness see that kind of fierceness in him?”
Pei Yuan said nothing. He picked up the transcribed scripture from the table, his brows lifting slightly.
The handwriting looked like a horse freed from its reins, carrying a wild, untamed vitality of its own.
He couldn’t help but think of Shen Chu’s eyes—too clear, too bright. Even as his mouth spoke words of servility, there was no trace of a slave’s submission in those eyes.
He had seen plenty of people whose words didn’t match their hearts.
But this Shen Chu was rather interesting. Those eyes were like the puppy whose leg he had broken as a child—it clearly wanted to bite him, yet had no choice but to lower its gaze and wag its tail, begging for mercy.
That look of hating him yet being unable to do anything about him was truly delightful.