Song Jie had that dream again.
He dreamed of his much younger self hiding inside a cabinet, while many people outside searched for him, ordering the Yuping Momo who raised him to hand him over.
Yuping Momo kept crying, begging, “Madam, please spare him! He’s only three years old, he knows nothing, nothing about his mother…”
A woman’s voice cut through, angry: “Yuping, do you know how many people will die if he stays? If he’s discovered, the casualties won’t be limited to me, but my maternal family, everyone in my palace! You should never have kept him!”
It was the first time he heard this voice; he vaguely sensed the woman hated him and wanted him dead.
Because Yuping Momo continued pleading, kowtowing, promising, “Madam, he won’t be discovered! I’ve raised him for over three years, everyone thinks he’s my child! Please just treat him like a dog and spare his life!”
“Foolish!”
The woman’s voice cracked with tears and sorrow, “He may not be discovered now, but what if he grows older? What if he starts searching for his biological parents? He is a root of disaster. Yuping, your softness now will lead to catastrophe…”
Suddenly, the cabinet he hid in was thrown open, light flooding in, blinding him.
He heard someone shout, “Madam is here!”
His whole body was dragged out, falling hard onto the floor, his chest and knees aching.
Yuping Momo desperately tried to embrace him but was pinned down heavily, crying out, “He’s a living being, Madam! He is the flesh that fell from your own body! Do you really want to kill him?”
Amidst the sobbing, he saw a pair of shoes come closer — beautiful shoes unlike anyone’s in their village, with pearl tips, spotless, like shoes worn by deities.
Curious, he looked up at the person, seeing a face more exquisite than any painting, carved from jade, as if a heavenly immortal.
Yet on that beautiful face were eyes filled with despair and pain, looking down at him, lips trembling tightly.
She seemed frozen there. Yuping Momo anxiously urged, “Madam, look how much he longs for you. How can you bear it…”
He saw tears well up in those eyes as her voice turned pained, “Yuping, you should have killed him back then…”
Only later did he understand this — killing a barely breathing infant is easier and less painful than killing a child over three.
Yuping Momo, desperate to save him, called his childhood name, saying, “Xiaoshitou, call your mother quickly. She is your mother, hurry…”
She tried to soften the woman’s heart, thinking that if he called her mother, she might spare him.
But the woman didn’t want to hear him call her mother.
Before he could speak, she abruptly turned away, voice trembling: “Baolian, bring him that bowl of soup.”
A bowl of fragrant osmanthus honey was brought before him.
He wanted to drink it, but Yuping Momo shouted frantically, “Don’t drink! Xiaoshitou, don’t drink!”
He shrank back in fear but was grabbed by the shoulder.
He saw that immortal-like face turn gently to him, softly saying, “You’re called Xiaoshitou, right? Be a good boy and drink the soup. I’ll take you home…”
Someone pried open his lips; a cold bowl was pressed to his mouth, forcibly pouring medicine down his throat.
“Xiaoshitou, don’t drink!”
Song Jie suddenly jolted awake, flinging the bowl pressed to his lips aside.
Cang Shu hadn’t expected him to wake so suddenly; the bowl slipped from his hands, spilling the ginseng soup all over Song Jie.
He hurriedly grabbed a cloth to wipe him off.
“Master, it’s just ginseng soup.”
He knew the master had always resisted taking medicines or sweet soups, quickly explaining in a low voice, “You lost a lot of blood; Madam Pei specially brewed this with thousand-year-old ginseng.”
Song Jie stared at Cang Shu for a long moment before pulling himself back from the dream.
Before him were the crimson bed curtains, soft silk blankets beneath him, and a warm hot water bottle nestled in his arms.
The pain in his shoulder and the scent of flower dew in the room slowly brought him to full consciousness.
This was…
Xie Yushu’s chamber; he was still lying on her bed.
An inexplicable tension in his chest loosened.
He felt warmth and safety as he picked up the hot water bottle wrapped in embroidered silk, with a fluffy ball hanging below it like a rabbit’s tail, also fragrant, as if everything around Xie Yushu was imbued with her scent.
He couldn’t help but wonder: Does Xie Yushu hug this hot water bottle to sleep too?
When she can’t fall asleep, does she play with this fluffy ball?
His fingers touched the fluffy ball as he glanced beyond the curtains; it seemed to still be raining outside, the quiet room amplifying the sound.
“What time is it?”
Song Jie slowly sat up, wincing from the pain.
Cang Shu draped a clean outer robe over him and replied quietly, “Just past the fifth watch.”
Dawn was nearly here. He had been unconscious for so long.
Song Jie glanced at the robe — it wasn’t his, nor Xie Yushu’s, but a man’s robe.
“Whose robe is this?” he asked.
“It belongs to one of Madam Pei’s attendants,” Cang Shu answered in a low voice, worried he might take offense and hurriedly explained, “It’s new; Madam Pei just had it made for him. He hasn’t worn it yet.”
Song Jie frowned — that lame attendant?
Xie Yushu made new clothes for him?
Using such fine silk for a mere servant?
What kind of relationship did Xie Yushu have with that lame attendant?
“Where’s Xie Yushu?”
Song Jie asked.
He had assumed she had already left to rest in another room, but Cang Shu answered softly, “Madam Pei is resting on the couch in the outer room.”
Song Jie looked at Cang Shu in surprise.
“After you fainted, Madam Pei worried you might be in danger, so she stayed in the outer room guarding you until late.”
Cang Shu placed the spilled bowl aside and added, “She also specially brewed that soup for you.”
She actually…stayed behind to watch over him?
Song Jie, incredulous, helped Cang Shu up and lifted the bed curtains.
In the dim light, he saw someone curled up on the side couch near the window, with a soft cushion beside her — it was Jin Ye, the maid, asleep.
The rain pattered softly; the person on the side couch was curled inside an embroidered quilt, sleeping peacefully.
Song Jie was so surprised he whispered to Cang Shu, “How much did you pay her to stay and watch over me?”
Cang Shu sighed lightly inside, “No money was paid. Madam Pei stayed voluntarily out of concern for you.”
He understood well that Master never believed anyone would truly care for him.
“She’ll want me to pay her when she wakes, won’t she?”
Song Jie murmured, loosening Cang Shu’s hand as he carefully walked out to the side couch, looking closely at the sleeping Xie Yushu.
She lay on her side, curled up like a shrimp, resting on a soft pillow and hugging another.
The embroidered quilt had slipped down to her waist, revealing her white inner garment and a slender wrist beneath the thin fabric.
For some reason, looking at her so peacefully asleep quieted Song Jie’s own heart.
The hatred and resentment from his nightmare seemed so easily dispelled in this fragrant room.
He stood silently, watching her and noticed how long her eyelashes were, densely shading her eyelids.
Perhaps from the cold, she hugged the pillow tightly.
She was really only about sixteen or seventeen years old.
A softness he shouldn’t have felt welled in his chest. He bent over to pull the quilt up over her when Jin Ye on the couch was startled awake.
“Song Xiang…”
Jin Ye gasped.
Song Jie held a finger to his lips, shushing her, and gently adjusted Xie Yushu’s quilt.
“This can’t do!”
Jin Ye hurriedly knelt up and tucked the quilt in herself, whispering, “It’s better if I attend to Madam.”
Xie Yushu frowned as if nearly awakened.
Jin Ye softly patted her back, coaxing her to sleep a little longer.
Song Jie withdrew his hand and watched Xie Yushu fall asleep again under Jin Ye’s care, feeling an inexplicable annoyance.
His own maid and servants seemed always on guard to keep him away from Xie Yushu.
He wasn’t a tiger; could he really harm her?
Wasn’t he supposed to get along better with Pei Shilin?
Frustrated, he tried to cough but feared waking Xie Yushu, so he covered his mouth and hurried back inside the bed curtains, coughing twice painfully.
His shoulder wound throbbed anew.
Suddenly, Xie Yushu’s drowsy voice came from outside the curtain.
She groggily asked, “Why are you coughing again? Is Cang Shu feeling better?”
Song Jie’s heart was brushed softly by a feather.
Besides the long-deceased Yuping Momo, perhaps no one else would hear his cough and wake up worried.
He hoped this worry was genuine.
How could someone pretend upon waking?
“Madam, Song Xiang has awakened,” Jin Ye whispered.
“Awake?”
Xie Yushu seemed to rise from the couch.
Song Jie saw her silhouette moving quickly across the bed curtain, pulling back the drape to peek in with a sleepy face.
She stared at him in surprise, frozen briefly in that moment.
That brief stunned look was the cutest Song Jie had ever seen from Xie Yushu — she hadn’t yet masked herself, like a fawn lost in a grand estate.
“How do you feel?” she asked, forgetting even to call him Prime Minister, speaking as if he were a friend.
Song Jie cleared his throat softly, clutching the open robe, “Better. I probably won’t die.”
She finally put on her usual expression, smiling and teasing him, “Good. Don’t die on my bed and make officials come to interrogate me. I’d really be sunk.”
Song Jie frowned; he didn’t like her cursing herself like that.
“Don’t worry. If I die, I’ll instruct Cang Shu to handle everything after. I won’t let you suffer.”
She came closer with a playful tone, “By then, it might be too late. If Song Xiang is dead, who’d fear you? The Pei Family would be the first to come for me.”
Song Jie fell silent, because Xie Yushu was right. If he died, his power would collapse too; how could the Pei Family still fear him?
They would immediately target Xie Yushu.
As she approached, he noticed her wearing wooden clogs, her rounded toes glimpsed beneath her robe.
He looked away, feeling even more tangled inside.
Why was he worrying about Xie Yushu’s fate even in death?
Weren’t they just “employer” and “employee”?
“Did you drink the ginseng soup?”
Xie Yushu stopped in front of him.
He and Cang Shu almost answered simultaneously, “No.”
“…”
Cang Shu glanced at Song Jie, noting how responsive he’d become toward Madam Pei.
Song Jie realized he might have answered too eagerly, stiffened, and closed his mouth.
Cang Shu explained, “Earlier, Master was unconscious, so he wasn’t fed. The soup spilled.”
Xie Yushu saw the still-wet bed and said, “Go get another bowl — there’s some kept warm on the table.”
Cang Shu agreed and left to fetch more ginseng soup.
Song Jie heard Xie Yushu lament, “That was top-grade thousand-year-old ginseng, so hard to get from Yong’an Marquis Mansion. What a waste.”
He thought, now she’s going to ask me for money.
How much?
Five thousand taels?
Ten thousand?
But when Cang Shu returned, Xie Yushu said nothing about money.
She took the soup and said, “I’ll feed you this time. Don’t spill a drop.”
Song Jie looked up at her in surprise.
In the candlelight, her black hair framed her face, wearing only a loose Daoist robe, standing there softly blowing on the hot soup.
She scooped a spoonful and fed it to him. “Try it first. If it’s not too hot, drink it all in one go.”
Song Jie watched quietly, not understanding why she…didn’t bring up money.
He opened his mouth and drank the spoonful.
She watched him with concern, asking, “Is it too hot?”
The ginseng soup slid down his throat, warming his heart.
He wanted her to keep feeding him like this, yet felt shy; he wasn’t so injured that he should be so delicate.
He took the soup in one gulp and asked, “Come on, how much do you want this time?”
Xie Yushu chuckled, “I don’t want money. I’m saving you because I’m truly afraid you’ll die.”
Song Jie looked at her skeptically.
“You don’t hate me?”
Her beautiful eyes met his gaze, soft and gentle.
“I do hate you a little, but if you die, I’m afraid I won’t live much longer either.”
Song Jie’s heart skipped a beat. He knew what she meant — if he died, the Pei Family wouldn’t spare her.
But hearing it sounded like they were united against a common enemy, bound by life and death.
As if if he died, she would die alongside him.
“Host, you’ve gained 1 point of Heartthrob Value again.”
The system interface appeared once more.
Xie Yushu saw her Heartthrob Value reach [21 points], thrilled and smiling. Staying by Song Jie’s side was proving very effective.
Actually, she had woken just before Song Jie covered her with the quilt — the system’s alert had awakened her, granting her 1 point of Heartthrob Value from Song Jie.
Song Jie was surprisingly easy to win over.
A little show of kindness, and he was completely smitten.
“But if Song Xiang feels guilty and insists on paying me silver, I won’t refuse.”
Xie Yushu added.
Song Jie couldn’t help but laugh and playfully patted the bed beside him.
“Fine, five thousand taels, and you can lie here with me for a while.”
“Five thousand?”
She smiled, fixing her hair.
“You really underestimate me. I’m only worth five thousand taels?”
“Then tell me, how much do you want?”
Song Jie asked.
Without hesitation, she answered, “Money can’t buy what I want. But if you gave me the title of Princess, I might consider it.”
Song Jie stared at her, surprised and amused.
“You have quite an appetite. Even the Yong’an Marquis’s legitimate daughter isn’t qualified to be a princess.”
She frowned, clearly displeased, and turned to leave.
After a while, Song Jie heard her muttering outside like a child sulking, “Just because Xie Jia Ning can’t do it doesn’t mean I can’t…”
Song Jie watched her figure sitting by the window on the side couch through the gauze curtains, feeling a sudden dizziness.
He realized if she hadn’t mentioned Jia Ning, he might have almost forgotten about her tonight…
He hadn’t even seen Jia Ning’s shadow on Xie Yushu’s face; he looked only at Xie Yushu…
Why was that?
The rain outside only ceased when dawn faintly brightened the sky.
Song Jie lingered in Xie Yushu’s room, sharing breakfast with her before leaving her courtyard under Xiao Dao’s disgruntled gaze.
But he didn’t immediately leave the Pei Mansion and instead went to see Pei Shilin.
Pei Shilin had been badly beaten last night and only awakened at dawn.
Seeing Song Jie, fury flared in his eyes, almost causing him to faint again.
But Song Jie sat calmly a few steps away with a gentle smile: “I heard you used your connection with the Duke of England to enter the Hanlin Academy? And landed a junior seventh-rank compiler position?”
“What do you want?”
Pei Shilin shivered, staring at Song Jie in despair, fearing he might sabotage his chances even for that lowly post.
Unexpectedly, Song Jie said, “I can help you get a regular seventh-rank Shidu Scholar position, and I can also get your younger brother out.”
Li Huixian’s eyes immediately widened as she hurriedly asked, “Prime Minister, is that true?”
Pei Shilin angrily scolded his mother.
Song Jie was a venomous snake who wouldn’t help without demanding a price!
Sure enough, Song Jie smiled palely, “Of course it’s true, but I want your son Pei Shilin never to touch Xie Yushu again.”