Chapter 13: Punishment – Sister’s Lip Rouge is Smudged

Chapter 13: Punishment - Sister's Lip Rouge is Smudged

Zhang Le, who was standing behind Xi Fumiao, noticed him lingering at the door for a long time and curiously attempted to peek inside.

Earlier, they had seen Shen Quan suddenly arrive to borrow a qin from Brother Zimiao, saying his sister needed it. They had originally come upstairs to listen to the qin, but after arriving, he hesitated before entering.

Zhang Le was about to knock on the door on his behalf, but the young man suddenly turned and left.

Seeing his aloof demeanor, Zhang Le was puzzled and turned to follow him.

The sun had set, and the evening was splendid, with the clouds tinged in a drunken hue.

The group had spent the afternoon in the pavilion, and naturally, Lou Zixu was the one to see Meng Chanyin home.

Lou Zixu rarely had the chance to be alone with Meng Chanyin. He accompanied her to the south gate and lingered reluctantly before finally leaving.

Before Meng Chanyin could return to her courtyard, she was approached.

"Miss Chan."

Meng Chanyin stopped and looked at the maid waiting at the door, clearly sent by Xi Fumiao to wait for her return.

She asked softly, "What is it?"

The maid curtsied to her, "Tonight, we are admiring the moon in the garden. The other young ladies are already waiting there. The Eldest Young Master specifically asked me to wait here for your return."

Meng Chanyin glanced up at the sky, where a cold moon hung, indeed perfect for moon-viewing.

She lowered her gaze and nodded, "Alright, go ahead and inform my brother. I'll change my clothes and come."

The maid bowed her head, "Yes."

Under the moonlit sky, the ancient locust tree was adorned with numerous small lanterns. The expansive garden was brightly illuminated, with small banquets set up, and fruits and delicate pastries arranged on the tables.

The girls, their hair beautifully adorned, laughed and played, some removing hairpins from each other's hair, exchanging silk flowers, discussing makeup and operas, all in harmony.

At the head of the table, a young man was bent over, playing a phoenix-tailed qin. Beside him, musicians struck chime stones, and the melodies of the xiao, flute, se, xun, and sheng filled the air. In such a warm family gathering, the string music seemed more intoxicating than wine.

Xi Lan was the first to notice her and quickly waved with a smile, "Sister Chan, come here."

Meng Chanyin smiled faintly at Xi Lan, then looked at the young man playing the qin above, noticing that the qin in his hands seemed to be the same one she had played in the library earlier.

After a glance, she took off her shoes, stepped onto the mat in her socks, and sat beside Xi Lan, asking, "Where is A Ning?"

Xi Lan shook her head, "I don't know. He never comes. Maybe because our brother is here, he doesn't come."

Xi Zhangning had always disliked playing with his sisters in a formal setting. At this moment, he was probably still outside the mansion with his friends.

Meng Chanyin didn't ask further.

Xi Lan glanced at her, hugged her arm affectionately, and asked curiously, "I heard Sister Chan just returned from outside. They said you went to see Lou Zixu, is that true?"

Meng Chanyin paused for a moment upon hearing this.

Actually, today Shen Meng had invited her in her name, but how did they know it was to see Lou Zixu?

Meng Chanyin thought for a moment and replied gently, "He just happened to meet me and Meng Meng."

"Oh," Xi Lan blinked and nodded, not asking further, her voice like a crisp bell as she urged her, "Sister Chan, try the pastries. They were made by the chef Brother brought back from Jinzhou. I heard the chef used to make pastries for the palace. They taste wonderful. I've already eaten a lot before you came."

Meng Chanyin lowered her long lashes, picked up a piece of cake, and took a gentle bite.

Xi Lan looked ahead, sighed, and murmured, "It's been a long time since I heard my brother play the qin. He seems to be in a good mood today, but he hasn't said a word to us yet, just tuning the qin without playing."

Meng Chanyin, holding the cake, instinctively looked up.

The young man, with his dark hair and black robe, seemed to be doted on even by the moonlight. The cold light fell on his brows like frost, his fingers plucking the strings, while the surrounding silk and bamboo music sounded like whispers to the ear. Occasionally, his fingers would pluck the strings like raindrops falling.

Even Meng Chanyin couldn't help but admit that Xi Fumiao's hands were meant for elegant pursuits, but later he did not take up the brush, nor did he play the qin again. Instead, his fingers flipped through ledgers and moved abacus beads.

Xi Lan leaned on Meng Chanyin and cooed up to the young man, "Brother, play a tune for us."

The phoenix-tailed qin had already been put away.

Xi Fumiao glanced down and said coolly, "If you want to listen, then learn it properly from the master."

Xi Lan's expression immediately went blank.

She liked listening but disliked playing the qin.

After being rejected by her brother, Xi Lan whispered to Meng Chanyin, "Brother is so stingy."

Meng Chanyin smiled slightly.

The moon hung high, and the night grew cooler after the banquet.

Xi Fumiao left early, having played the qin for only a short while. Xi Lan, after enjoying the moon for a bit, insisted on going back, and the other sisters left one after another.

Meng Chanyin sat quietly for a while before getting up to leave, but before she could step out of the courtyard, the maid who had come to fetch her earlier caught up with her again.

"Miss Chan, the master summons you to the Moon Viewing Pavilion."

The Moon Viewing Pavilion was the highest pavilion in the Xi residence, with only two floors, used for viewing the moon and stars in summer, offering a breathtaking view.

But ordinary people did not go there, as it was a place Xi Fumiao frequented.

The pavilion's steps wound up in four sections, with a large, cold moon hanging in the cloudless sky, the scattered starlight seemed to carry a chill.

The young man had changed into a robe with excellent drape and a soft texture, kneeling at a table, tuning the qin.

Hearing the footsteps approaching, Xi Fumiao looked up and saw the girl standing at the door, her skirt gently billowed by the wind, accentuating her slender figure.

The girl, with moist eyes, lightly bit her lower lip, hesitating at the door, looking at him, "Brother, did you call for me?"

Xi Fumiao glanced at her and then lowered his head, tapping the spot next to him with his finger, "Sit here."

Meng Chanyin suppressed her worries and slowly walked to his side, gently holding her skirt, she sat down.

With a twang, a string was plucked.

Meng Chanyin, hearing the sound, realized he was tuning the qin.

The qin was still the same, but there were several wine jars lying around, and a strong scent of alcohol filled the air.

Meng Chanyin wanted to gather the wine jars on the floor into a corner to avoid accidentally kicking or shattering them.

As she stood up, her ankle was suddenly seized.

She turned her head and met the young man's piercing dark eyes.

His eyes showed no trace of drunkenness.

Meng Chanyin's heart raced with panic, and she tried to pull her ankle free: "Elder Brother..."

Xi Fumiao's brow didn’t twitch, and the hand gripping her ankle suddenly tightened.

He yanked her ankle, causing her to fall to the ground. Her bottom went numb, then erupted in searing pain.

"She hissed in pain—"

Her almond-shaped eyes welled up with tears, and she turned her head sharply to glare at the man who had done this on purpose.

Xi Fumiao had already sat up, looking down at her.

His gaze sent a chill down her spine, and she regretted her decision to come up alone earlier. She tried to get up, rubbing her aching bottom.

As if to spite her, he grabbed her ankle again and pulled her towards him.

Before she could react, she was pinned beneath him.

His breath, reeking of alcohol, brushed against her face.

He gently cupped her face, his dark eyes locked onto hers, unblinking.

Meng Chanyin's heart pounded, and she glared at him fiercely: "What do you think you're doing!"

His brow, bathed in moonlight, took on a more aggressive look. His fingers, which had been gripping her ankle, slowly loosened, and he looked at her with a teasing glint in his eyes: "What did I do?"

He feigned ignorance, pretending to be surprised at her strong reaction.

Meng Chanyin glared, shedding her usual gentleness. She pressed her lips together and tried to rise silently.

Xi Fumiao stopped teasing her, letting go and leaning back lazily. His eyelids lifted slightly as he watched her retreating figure, his voice, low and drowsy, carrying a hint of drunkenness.

"Come back and sit properly."

Meng Chanyin didn’t want to listen to him, but her feet wouldn’t move, so she simply turned around and sat back down.

She was trapped.

Xi Fumiao leaned back on the cushion, his dark lashes lowered, his thin lips bright and red, like a male ghost fresh from feeding on yang energy. He put on his finger guards and continued to adjust the strings of the qin.

The quiet night was occasionally broken by the crisp, ethereal sounds of the qin, startling a few night birds into flight.

The jarring, discordant notes grated on her ears, as if done on purpose, or perhaps because he was too drunk to control his strength.

Fortunately, after a while of random plucking, he seemed to finally find a satisfactory tone, but he didn’t play further. Instead, he removed the finger guards.

He said succinctly: "Come and play."

Meng Chanyin looked at him in confusion, not moving.

Xi Fumiao glanced at her stillness and asked, "Have you forgotten what I taught you before?"

Hearing his question suddenly, Meng Chanyin also forgot her earlier anger, feeling a bit guilty as she lowered her lashes, like a student caught off guard by a teacher's question, her sitting posture quite stiff.

She had once loved playing the qin, and her good skills were all taught by him, but she hadn’t touched the qin for a long time since she had to prepare for her marriage and sew her wedding dress.

Meng Chanyin shook her head obediently, "Not yet."

Xi Fumiao nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for her to come closer.

Meng Chanyin hesitated before sitting in the spot he had vacated, looking up to see that he had already stood up, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, clearly intending to listen to her play.

It had been a long time since she had touched the qin in front of him, and her palms grew damp with sweat.

Biting back her nerves, she slipped on the finger picks, summoning her memory, and then plucked the first note.

Perhaps due to nervousness, she hit a wrong note.

At that moment, her heart clenched, and she wanted to let go, but when she looked up and saw the young man's calm expression, he didn’t seem to notice.

Meng Chanyin's heart relaxed slightly, and she feigned composure, pretending she hadn’t slipped up, then continued playing.

Before the piece was finished, a jade flute came down to press against the back of her hand.

The strings hummed briefly before fading into silence.

"Huh?" She looked up in confusion.

Xi Fumiao's dark eyes were as deep as ink, his profile sharp and distinct, leaning down with a faint smile: "Has my little sister forgotten it all?"

Meng Chanyin bit her lower lip, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment: "I'm sorry, brother, it’s been ages since I last played the qin."

Xi Fumiao glanced at her reddened face, put away the jade flute without saying anything, and sat down beside her, his tone relaxed as he guided her: "Keep your arms loose, bend your elbows, rest your hands on the strings, and let your wrists stay relaxed. That way, those wrong notes won't appear."

So it wasn’t forgetfulness—it was just her nerves acting up around him.

After speaking, he added: "Let’s try that part again."

Meng Chanyin obediently lowered her head: "Understood."

The qin’s melody rose once more, mingling with the cool stillness of the night, soothing the heart.

Xi Fumiao leaned back, closing his eyes for a light rest, his voice faint: "Chan Er, have you truly never heeded my words?"

Meng Chanyin sensed the implication in his words.

He had forbidden her from seeing Lou Zixu, yet she had gone anyway.

But how could she not see Lou Zixu? He was her betrothed, her future husband. There was no reason for him to stop her from seeing the one she loved.

At his words, Meng Chanyin faltered, hitting another wrong note, steadied her mind, and said: "Brother, I’ve kept your words close to my heart and never dared forget them."

"Is that so?" He opened his eyes, calmly looking at her fair face.

"Yes." Meng Chanyin nodded seriously, then let go of the strings: "It’s just that you’ve been away so long, brother, and haven’t had time to teach me, so I couldn't help but neglect my qin skills."

Her voice held a faint note of reproach, as if blaming him.

Xi Fumiao raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips: "So it's my fault then?"

Meng Chanyin nodded earnestly, "Yes, brother understands now."

After speaking, she turned back to focus on playing the qin, her red lips tightly pursed.

Xi Fumiao tilted his head, watching her profile. The girl’s lips trembled with nerves, yet she tried to scold him naturally, which was truly adorable.

He watched for a while, then suddenly laughed, his dark sleeves rustling, the corners of his eyes glistening with amusement.

"Since you've already scolded me, I'll teach you tonight, sister. If you can't keep up, you'll be punished later."

He held the jade flute and lightly tapped her fingers, his voice calm but quick: "Press the strings with your middle and index fingers—hook, support, small pluck..."

Meng Chanyin was taken aback, then realized he was genuinely teaching her, so she followed his instructions closely.

After playing a piece, her face flushed red, her nose faintly pink, her thin robe clinging to her back, and she panted heavily, leaning over the zither.

In contrast to her flustered appearance, the young man leisurely propped his chin with one hand, casually lowering his eyelids, the jade flute twirling between his fingers, then lifting her fingers.

"Indeed, it's been a long time since you've touched the zither. Your delicate fingers are slightly red, perfect for holding flowers or embroidering mandarin ducks."

Meng Chanyin was irritated by his teasing and bluntly asked, "Have I done something to offend you, brother, that you're teasing me like this tonight?"

Xi Fumiao smiled faintly, but there was little emotion in his eyes: "Chan Er plays for others in the building, and I just wanted to hear a piece. Is that teasing?"

Meng Chanyin wanted to glare at him, but remembering there was no one else around, she softened her tone: "Since you came during the day, brother, why didn't you enter?"

"Enter?"

Xi Fumiao raised an eyebrow slightly, put away the jade flute, and asked her in return, "What would I do if I entered?"

She held back her irritation and obediently lowered her chin: "I assume you must have heard my mistakes, which is why you wanted to teach me. If you had entered during the day, I wouldn't have mistakenly thought you were displeased with me and teasing me."

She even found a good reason for the cause and effect.

"Hmm." Xi Fumiao remained silent, closing his eyes as if tired, leaning lazily against the cushion.

The cold moonlight fell on his chiseled features, inexplicably showing a touch of tender warmth, as if the previous aggressiveness was all fake.

Meng Chanyin couldn't decipher what he was thinking, and seeing that he no longer paid attention to her, she said, "If you have nothing else, brother, I'll take my leave."

The Adam's apple on his raised neck bobbed slightly, but he still didn't speak.

Meng Chanyin waited for a moment, then lifted her skirt to stand up, but before she could rise, her wrist was caught by his cold fingers.

The stars and moon flashed before her eyes, and she instantly fell back into the young man's unyielding arms.

Her nose bumped against his chest, her eyes welling up, and before she could raise her hand to rub them, her chin was lifted by his bent finger.

Under the bright moonlight, his gaze fell on her moist eyes, cheeks, and lips, with dark intensity swirling in his eyes.

He smiled and said, "You didn't play well, and you haven't been punished yet. Where do you think you're going?"

Meng Chanyin panted lightly, her eyelashes lowered as she met his gaze, seeing in his eyes not the look a brother should have for a sister.

But that of a man for a woman.

She was clearly on higher ground, yet it felt like she was cornered by him, her whole body filled with the dampness of desire in his gaze.

She clutched the fabric on his shoulder, biting her lower lip until it turned deep red, and tentatively asked, "How does brother want to punish me?"

His cold fingertips caressed her lips, and he said casually, "Did you know, sister, that the rouge on your lips has been smudged all along?"