Dressed in apricot-yellow court robes, Shang Jingci leaned lazily against the carriage wall. The soft moonlight cast a romantic charm upon his brows and eyes. With no lantern lit inside the carriage, the atmosphere grew even more ambiguous. As their gazes met, it was Qu Yi who first looked away.
Seeing her astonishment, Shang Jingci smiled and asked, “You boarded my Crown Prince’s Residence carriage, intending to enter my residence, yet you ask why I am here?”
Gradually regaining her composure, Qu Yi replied softly, “Your Highness misunderstands. Yi’er merely thought that since Your Highness has always conducted affairs with great fanfare, going through such elaborate efforts this time must be to sever the ties between the Qu Family and the Crown Prince’s Residence. If so, why would Your Highness appear here?”
Though drowsy and confused, Qu Yi knew the carriage had circled the city for a long time, taking such pains to avoid attention—a stark contrast to the Crown Prince who, just days before at Qu Fu’s gate, had made a grand spectacle with music and revelry, leaving no mischief undone.
“Times have changed. Consort Lan has retrieved Prince Zhen’s remains. Though she remains suspicious and has yet to act, she watches me more closely than ever. Originally, I planned to take you as a concubine—catch the embroidered ball and carry you into the residence in a wedding sedan. To the public, it would merely be a romantic tale; those with ulterior motives would likely assume I coveted the Qu Family’s wealth. But you refused the marriage rites, which complicates matters. I pondered and could not find a suitable identity to assign you. Later, I thought: if I cannot explain it to the world, then I simply won’t. At worst, I’ll secretly bring you into the residence and hide a beauty in a golden chamber.”
The corners of Shang Jingci’s lips curved slightly as he leaned gradually toward Qu Yi. His starry eyes held the moonlight that seeped into the carriage, glistening and bright.
For a moment, Qu Yi could not react, only staring blankly back at the person before her, her thoughts drifting far away…
As the ancients said, all people have a love for beauty. Qu Yi had read many supernatural tales in her youth, including those of male spirits who seduced innocent young ladies. She recalled one description: “a robust figure, impeccably dressed, features like a painting, with a friendly smile and speech.” Now, it seemed, the Crown Prince before her fit that very description.
Seeing her shy and timid, lips slightly curved, lost in thought without replying for a long while, Shang Jingci grew displeased. He raised his hand to tap her head but was stopped by Ling Su beside her.
“Your Highness, restrain yourself.” Ling Su’s expression and tone were both icy.
Shang Jingci had noticed her when the two boarded the carriage but had ignored her. Now that Ling Su spoke, she could no longer be overlooked.
Shang Jingci mocked, “With such striking looks, miss, one cannot forget you after a single glance. You may not know, but I have had the fortune of seeing you twice. The first time was in my fourth brother’s mansion, where you were called Hong Qu, a concubine of Prince Zhen’s Mansion. Later, I saw you again in the outskirts of the capital—a concubine turned spy, your red garments stained with blood. Miss Ling Su, what fine acting skills.”
Ling Su remained silent, only gradually clenching her fists.
Qu Yi finally snapped back to reality and smoothed things over. “It was I who asked Ling Su to accompany me. Since Your Highness intends to confine me in the residence, you must allow me to bring someone I trust completely to relay messages inside and out.”
Shang Jingci’s gaze sharpened. “Since the Pavilion Master says so, how could I refuse? However, now that the Pavilion Master has resolved to assist me, do not play any clever tricks.”
Qu Yi looked at him, puzzled.
Shang Jingci continued, “Whether it’s Hong Qu or Ling Su, too many people recognize her face. Clearly, you have the means to disguise her, yet you insist on bringing her out like this. Is the Pavilion Master testing whether the people in the Crown Prince’s Residence are trustworthy, aiming to find a strategy to break through from within?”
Only then did Qu Yi understand the meaning behind her sister’s words, “The Crown Prince decides.”
She was still pondering how to respond when Shang Jingci leaned toward her again, smiling as he said, “I’ll let it slide this time since it’s your first offense, but don’t let it happen again.”
Qu Yi nodded, “Mm.”
Just as Shang Jingci was about to speak, the carriage inconveniently came to a halt. The vehicle jolted slightly, nearly causing him to tumble from his seat. Qu Yi hurriedly grabbed his hand to steady him.
Shang Jingci clasped her hand in return, lifting his gaze with a suggestive look. “Is the Pavilion Master having a change of heart, willing to discuss matters of romance with me again?”
Qu Yi’s face flushed slightly, and she quickly withdrew her hand, murmuring softly, “No, don’t talk nonsense.”
Seeing her so flustered, Shang Jingci felt a stir in his heart and chuckled lightly. “How old are you this year?”
Qu Yi looked at him in confusion, taking a moment before replying, “I just turned sixteen a few days ago.”
“Your coming-of-age ceremony? Such an important occasion—why didn’t I hear of Qu Fu hosting any celebration?”
Qu Yi dared not tell the truth and only responded softly, “As a child of the jianghu, I don’t adhere to such formalities. I dislike the atmosphere of feasting and empty flattery.”
Shang Jingci nodded thoughtfully. Seeing her with her head bowed and eyes lowered, as if still half-asleep, he tentatively said, “Come over and help me straighten my court robes.”
“Oh,” Qu Yi replied softly, then actually reached out to adjust his collar and sleeves.
Ling Su had intended to intervene but was a step too late.
The sky gradually brightened, with a few rays of sunlight filtering through the carriage curtains. Shang Jingci looked down at Qu Yi, who was earnestly tidying his robes. Though her expression was indifferent, her cheeks were slightly flushed, prompting him to tease, “What’s gotten into you today? Why are you so obedient?”
Qu Yi glanced up at him and casually brushed it off. “Is it not good for Yi’er to listen to Your Highness?”
“Of course it is.” Shang Jingci paused, then asked, “Do you know where we’ve stopped?”
“Isn’t it the Crown Prince’s Residence?”
Shang Jingci chuckled softly. “At this hour, why would I return to the residence in court robes?”
Qu Yi murmured, “How would Yi’er know what Your Highness is thinking?”
“Pull back the curtain and see. You’ll have few chances to come here in the future.”
Qu Yi replied lazily, dragging out her words, “Yes,” then casually lifted the carriage curtain. To her surprise, what greeted her eyes was a vermilion palace gate. Beneath the towering palace walls, rows of carriages and horses were parked in an orderly fashion, with numerous court officials walking together toward the palace entrance.
Qu Yi hastily dropped the curtain and said resentfully, “You annoying man, why have you brought me here?”
Shang Jingci feigned surprise. “I kindly brought you here to broaden your horizons, and you still complain.”
“Who wants to come here?” Qu Yi retorted, then widened her eyes and asked, “Don’t tell me I have to wait here until you finish court?”
“The Pavilion Master is truly clever. It’ll only be an hour or two at most.” Shang Jingci wore a mischievous grin.
Qu Yi let out a long sigh, frustrated. “Please hurry and get out of the carriage to attend court, Your Highness. Don’t waste your own time just to annoy others.”
“Hahaha—” Shang Jingci couldn’t help but laugh heartily, adding fuel to the fire. “Don’t worry, Pavilion Master. I won’t keep a beauty waiting long.”
With that, he lifted the carriage curtain and headed off to court.
Qu Yi felt as if she had walked a great distance, yet the sound of that arrogant laughter still echoed in her ears, unbearably irritating. Gently rubbing her temples, her dizziness grew increasingly severe. In no time, overwhelming drowsiness crept over her. She first leaned sideways for a while, but it was still uncomfortable. Noticing the soft pillow on Shang Jingci’s side, she thought to herself that since he wasn’t there at the moment, there was no need to hold back. She moved over, rested her head on the soft pillow, and fell into a deep sleep.
While Qu Yi was sleeping in a daze, she heard many noisy voices in her ears, all of them men. For a moment, she was trapped in a nightmare, dreaming once again of the day Shang Jieshi had assaulted her. In the dream, she cried and struggled desperately, but the knocking sound she awaited never came. Her heart was filled with utter despair and sorrow, and she could no longer distinguish between the dream and reality.
“Well, well, what is the Pavilion Master doing here? As soon as I left, you couldn’t wait to climb into my bed?”
When Shang Jingci boarded the carriage, he saw Qu Yi occupying his pillow and bedding. Without giving it much thought, he walked over and pulled her up. “Wake up! I went to listen to matters of state, and you, lazy girl, have been stealing sleep all morning. Aren’t you going to wake up now?”
“Ah!” With that pull, Qu Yi finally broke free from her dream and let out an unconscious scream, startling Shang Jingci, who hurriedly covered her mouth.
“Don’t scream. We’re still at the palace gate. If anyone hears you, all my efforts to hide you along the way will have been in vain.”
Qu Yi was still not fully awake, and Shang Jingci’s action, though not meant to harm, frightened her once again. Panicked, she slapped his hand away, hugged her knees, lowered her head, and frantically scooted backward. The soft pillow was squeezed to the ground with a “thud.”
The sound reached Qu Yi’s ears, and she mistakenly took it for something else. She covered her ears tightly with both hands, trembling violently like a sieve, her expression growing even more terrified.
Seeing her so frightened, Shang Jingci was momentarily stunned. The hand that had touched her cheek earlier was now damp and salty, stained with tears.
Shang Jingci composed himself and asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”
Ling Su had noticed earlier that Qu Yi seemed somewhat restless in her sleep but assumed it was due to the noise of officials leaving the court, so she paid no mind. Now, seeing Qu Yi in such a state, she grew alarmed. She hurried over, half-kneeling beside her, gently stroking her back as she spoke softly, “Pavilion Master, what’s wrong?”
Seeing that Qu Yi showed no response, Ling Su reached out to grasp her hands, which were covering her ears, but Qu Yi trembled even more violently, her hands seemingly glued to her ears, unable to move.
Shang Jingci said impatiently, “Enough. Is this how you comfort someone? Can’t you see she’s trembling even more?”
Suspecting she had had a nightmare, Shang Jingci tentatively reached out and patted her forehead, soothing her gently, “Dreams are illusions, nothing to fear. The Crown Prince is here now, and no little ghosts dare cause trouble.”
After a few moments, seeing that Qu Yi did not resist, Shang Jingci gently lifted her chin. Perhaps Qu Yi had taken his words to heart, for she obediently raised her head, revealing a face flushed red from crying.
A gust of wind blew in from somewhere, lifting the gauze curtains by the window and sweeping away the two streams of tears brimming in her eyes. Qu Yi’s vision blurred with tears as she gazed in the direction from which the wind had come.
The sun was high in the sky, hanging brightly and glaringly at the horizon.
In the light and shadow, Qu Yi seemed to see the carriage that had once saved her, its rear wall still engraved with a pair of elegant orchids.
Qu Yi’s eyelashes were still damp with mist, blurring her vision, but before she could confirm anything, the carriage gradually faded into the distance once more, just like that day.
Without a second thought, Qu Yi desperately lunged forward, wanting to rush to the carriage window for a closer look, to call out and stop it.
Shang Jingci had no way of knowing what was in her mind. Seeing her lunge forward, he hurriedly moved closer, catching her and holding her in his arms, soothing her gently, “It’s alright, it’s just a dream.”
Yet his movement inadvertently pressed down a corner of the gauze curtain, causing it to fall and block Qu Yi’s view.
Qu Yi seemed not yet fully awake, completely unaware of whose arms she was held in—or perhaps she simply didn’t care where she was or who was beside her.
Seeing her view obstructed, her eyes grew even more crimson. She stretched out her arm with all her might, pulling the corner free from beside Shang Jingci and lifting the gauze curtain high once more.
In that instant, brilliant sunlight surged in, casting a lingering and moving shadow of the two embracing inside the carriage—save for the woman desperately stretching her arm toward something.
Stripped of its shell of sunlight, outside were numerous carriages hurrying away from the court after the morning assembly. Only the glimpse she had seen moments before was nowhere to be found. Qu Yi’s hand finally fell, completing the harmony of the shadow.
“Benefactor,” Qu Yi murmured in a daze, her voice barely audible.
“Benefactor?” Shang Jingci repeated the word but received no further response from Qu Yi.
Perhaps exhausted from her struggle, Qu Yi soon fell back into a deep slumber.
It turned out that the incident in the outskirts of the city had always been a nightmare in Qu Yi’s heart. However, fearing her sister would worry on her behalf, she feigned composure and rarely spoke of it. In her recurring dreams, aside from the fear and trepidation, Qu Yi harbored only one regret: she longed to catch a glimpse of the person in the carriage and utter a single word of thanks.
Maintaining this stiff embrace was uncomfortable for Shang Jingci, but seeing her asleep again, he feared startling her and dared not let go. After a long while, once Qu Yi had fallen into a deep sleep, he finally moved, intending to lay her down. As his hand inadvertently brushed against Qu Yi’s cheek, he realized it was unusually feverish.
He quickly said, “Check your Pavilion Master—is she running a fever?”
Ling Su hurried forward and touched Qu Yi’s forehead, finding it as hot as a furnace. She immediately rummaged through her bag for pills and fed them to Qu Yi.
Shang Jingci asked, “With such martial prowess, how could she fall ill so easily?”
Ling Su was momentarily unsure how to answer this question, but then she recalled Qu Qing’s instructions. Seizing the opportunity to respond, she replied with a hint of resentment, “Normally, it wouldn’t be like this. But to conceal her identity, the Pavilion Master had to take the Breath-Concealing Pill. That pill temporarily suppresses all inner power, and her pulse becomes indistinguishable from an ordinary person’s. However, martial artists naturally expend more energy in their daily lives than others. Likely because of this, the Pavilion Master fell ill due to the sudden adjustment.”
“If that’s the case, can she still exert force in a crisis?”
“Of course not. Does Your Highness think our Pavilion’s medicine is a mere toy?”
“Is there no antidote?”
“There’s no such thing. This medicine was originally used to weaken prisoners. If an antidote existed, wouldn’t it leave a loophole for them to exploit?”
Shang Jingci lowered his gaze to Qu Yi, whose face was flushed from fever and contorted in agony. Though it was meant to be a disguise, he truly couldn’t fathom what she was thinking. If she trusted him, why would Ling Su still be sitting across from them? If she didn’t trust him, then for a martial artist to lose their inner power was like a bird without wings teetering on the edge of a cliff—perilous beyond measure.