Song Yunfei frowned unconsciously and turned over.
Perhaps the “thing” beside her felt warm and solid, much more comfortable than the cold, hard pillow she’d been sleeping on. Out of habit, she reached out and pulled the “human-shaped pillow” into her arms, then contentedly nuzzled against it.
Warm, soft flesh suddenly filled his embrace.
Chu Jinhan’s whole body went rigid.
The girl’s distinctively sweet fragrance, mingled with the scent of thread, kept drifting into his nostrils. The body in his arms was unbelievably soft. Through the thin layer of her sleeping clothes, he could almost hear her steady heartbeat.
Chu Jinhan struggled to suppress the heat surging through his abdomen and tried to push away the arms wrapped around him.
But the moment he moved even slightly, the person in his arms gave an unhappy little whimper. Rather than loosening her hold, she wound her legs around him too, clinging even tighter.
This woman… She couldn’t even behave herself in her sleep!
Chu Jinhan drew a deep breath and was about to pry her off by force when Song Yunfei’s knee shifted unconsciously in her sleep, brushing against a certain place it shouldn’t have.
“…”
The air seemed to catch fire.
Chu Jinhan sprang up from the bed so abruptly that he nearly overturned it. He glanced back at the culprit, sleeping soundly and entirely unaware, gritted his teeth, then fled in disarray from the inner room.
In the stillness of the deep night, the sound of water being drawn soon came from the courtyard.
Song Yunfei woke to a cold draft.
At some point, the thin quilt had fallen to the floor. Chilled, she reached out blearily to pull it back, but her hand touched a patch of soaked clothing.
Song Yunfei jolted fully awake and sat bolt upright.
In the dim moonlight, Chu Jinhan stood beside her bed. He wore only a thin sleeping robe, water still dripping from the ends of his hair, and yet steam seemed to rise from his entire body.
“C-Cousin…” Song Yunfei was badly startled and curled up, edging farther into the bed. “W-what are you doing?”
Chu Jinhan’s handsome face was faintly red. Without answering, he turned and went straight into the outer room, where he took a dry towel from the wall and roughly rubbed his hair.
Droplets ran down the sharp line of his jaw and disappeared beneath the slightly open collar of his robe.
“It was stuffy tonight,” Chu Jinhan replied from the outer room, his voice hoarse. “I… went out to cool off.”
Stuffy?
It was already autumn, and the night chill was enough to seep into one’s bones. He still felt hot? And had gone to cool off?
Song Yunfei drew the quilt tightly around herself, full of questions. She propped herself up and peered into the outer room. Seeing Chu Jinhan’s broad back, she suddenly remembered that when she’d fallen asleep, she’d seemed to be hugging something…
Could it be?
Had she really mistaken him for a pillow and hugged and nuzzled him?
“Um… Cousin,” Song Yunfei said, head bowed, her voice so quiet she could barely hear herself. “I’m a restless sleeper. Did I… touch you?”
Ah!
If only she hadn’t made up that nonsense about being afraid of the dark.
Now he kept inexplicably ending up beside her in bed, and she kept inexplicably touching him…
Chu Jinhan stood with his back to her and said nothing, seeming to accept the accusation. Song Yunfei was so mortified she wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She hurried to explain, as if that might cover it up. “I-I didn’t mean to! I… I won’t do it again…”
After a long while, she heard him give a quiet “Mm.”
That night, Song Yunfei lay stiffly on the very edge of the bed until dawn.
Chu Jinhan did not return to the inner room. He stayed in the outer room.
The next day, Song Yunfei hurried through breakfast as if escaping, then rushed to Zhang Embroidery Workshop in town.
“Miss Song, you’re here at last.” Aunt Zhang, the workshop manager, broke into a broad smile when she saw her. “The small design for Magpies Alighting on a Branch that you left yesterday had barely been hanging for half a day before the county magistrate’s wife ordered it. She specifically asked you to do the embroidery yourself.”
Song Yunfei was delighted.
Yesterday, she’d sketched out a few designs from memory, based on the flower-and-bird paintings she’d seen at the Palace Museum. She hadn’t expected them to be so well received.
“You’re too kind, Aunt Zhang. I was just lucky,” Song Yunfei replied modestly.
“Lucky? Not at all.” Aunt Zhang took her hand warmly. “You’ve got real talent. No one in this workshop has livelier stitches than you, and your color combinations are the boldest and most distinctive.”
Her words drew sidelong glances from the other embroiderers in the workshop. Their eyes held more than a little jealousy and scrutiny.
One embroiderer, Chun Xinger, was especially sour as she spoke up. “Aunt Zhang, you can’t say that. We all embroider patterns and follow rules passed down by our ancestors, while Sister Song’s… unusual style might win the favor of some newly wealthy ladies, but it can hardly be called proper.”
“Exactly,” Xiniang chimed in. “Embroidery is all about craftsmanship. Not a single stitch can be careless. Just look at Sister Song’s design—there’s far too much empty space. It certainly looks like less work, but don’t you think it’s a little too plain?”
Hearing their barbed remarks, Song Yunfei knew that as a newcomer who had immediately stolen the spotlight, she was bound to make enemies.
“You’re both right,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’ve only just arrived, and there are plenty of rules I don’t know yet. I’ll be counting on you all to guide me. I also sketched Magpies Alighting on a Branch rather casually. The county magistrate’s wife liking it is pure luck.”
Workplace rules had changed little through the ages.
Song Yunfei brought every bit of her corporate-drone instinct to bear. Her impeccably tactful words praised her colleagues even as she modestly put herself down. The embroiderers who had been looking for trouble were left with nothing to say and could only fall silent, awkwardly.
Aunt Zhang gave her an approving nod, increasingly convinced that Song Yunfei was not only skilled but also perceptive.
Song Yunfei spent the entire day bent over her embroidery frame.
The screen she had to embroider today was quite large, and the work was intricate.
To meet the deadline, she barely managed a few hurried mouthfuls at lunch. By the time she finished for the day, her vision was swimming, her back and waist ached, and all ten fingers were peppered with little needle pricks, red and stinging.
On the ox cart back to the village, she was surprised to see Chu Jinhan there too. “Cousin, what are you doing here?”
“I… came to town to buy some writing brushes and ink.”
Song Yunfei was so exhausted that she fell asleep as soon as she leaned against the side of the cart.
As usual, Chu Jinhan used his arm to shield her from being jostled by anyone. He said nothing, but his gaze kept falling to her badly bruised hands.
When they returned to the Thatched Cottage, Chu Jinhan dropped a brief, “I’ll cook tonight,” and went straight into the kitchen.
Song Yunfei had just finished tidying the house when Chu Jinhan brought out the meal he had prepared.
It was simple: two bowls of thin rice porridge and a plate of stir-fried wild greens.
Song Yunfei was ravenous and ate hurriedly. When she was about half full, she noticed that Chu Jinhan had barely touched his food. He was simply watching her eat.
“Cousin, why aren’t you eating?” she asked around a mouthful.
“I’m not hungry.”
After dinner, Chu Jinhan once again took the initiative to clear the bowls and chopsticks.
Song Yunfei sat at the table, rubbing her aching shoulders as she watched him busy himself. An unfamiliar feeling suddenly stirred in her heart.