Chapter 36: Don’t Touch the Lady!

Chapter 36: Don’t Lay a Finger on the Lady!

An accusation laced with killing intent swept over Zhou Hai like a biting winter wind, leaving half his body numb with cold at their first exchange. His muscles tensed as if a grazing deer crushed under a lion’s paw—his blood roared in his ears, yet he couldn’t move an inch.

At that moment, Deputy General Qian’s words echoed sharply in Zhou Hai’s mind.

“Don’t lay a finger on the Lady.”

This sudden, overwhelming terror, the bone-deep tremors of death’s grip, seeped into his very core. For an instant, a name flashed through his thoughts like thunder.

An icy chill raced down Zhou Hai’s spine, his chest tightening as if frozen. He blurted out in a panicked stutter, “N-never, not once!”

The figure before him remained silent, only fixing him with pitch-black, glacial eyes.

Clearly, those words weren’t enough. He wanted everything—every detail of Zhou Hai’s interaction with Qin Chanyue.

Under that gaze, suffocation pressed down on Zhou Hai. A syrupy, suffocating liquid enveloped him, cutting off his breath like the swamps of the Twenty-Four Peaks of the Southern Frontier. The deeper he struggled, the more he sank, the tidal wave of malice sprouting claws to trap and devour him, gnawing at his bones until he vanished without a trace.

Suppressing his terror, Zhou Hai forced his numb tongue to recount the day’s events—how the Lady had summoned him, spoken a few words, and rewarded him with the position of head of the private guard.

At the end, his voice faltered as he added, “The Lady… she also told me to attend to her tonight.”

Even as he spoke, he sensed danger, but he dared not omit it. Sure enough, the towering man before him finally snapped, lunging forward in a single stride.

Zhou Hai squeezed his eyes shut—then a sharp pain shot through his neck, and he slumped to the ground like a sack of flour.

Before darkness claimed him, one thought lingered:

*In the next life, never be a kept man. Ask and my neck will answer.*

——

With a *thud*, Zhou Hai hit the floor, yet the masked figure didn’t leave. Behind that disguise, blood-red eyes burned into Zhou Hai’s unconscious form.

Zhou Hai had escaped into oblivion, trading momentary pain for oblivion. But for Chu Hang, the torment had only just begun.

At first, he had only meant to replace Zhou Hai to relieve the poison—a fleeting fantasy, a one-time deception. He had eagerly become a specter in the dark, masquerading as another.

He knew he was a vile impostor, unworthy of daylight, clinging to stolen moments to endure the years ahead. He would carry this secret to the grave, never letting a soul know.

But he never imagined Qin Chanyue would keep the male concubine.

The very thing Chu Hang had never dared covet had fallen into the lap of some clueless upstart. *Why?*

What had that man ever done for Qin Chanyue to earn her special attention?

Jealousy, love, and hatred were the most terrifying forces in the world—illogical, relentless, striking without reason. It didn’t matter if you were innocent; if you had what others craved, their fury would find you.

*Why not me?* Chu Hang thought.

Time and again, he wondered—what if he hadn’t worn the mask that day?

The love in his chest, suppressed and searing, churned violently, threatening to burst through his disguise and lay bare before Qin Chanyue. To make her see—*Every night—it was always me.*

But he couldn’t help wondering—if that day, he hadn’t worn the mask and had faced Qin Chanyue as himself, would she have taken him in as a male concubine? Would she have taken him to bed night after night?

No.

Qin Chanyue had never considered being with him.

Chu Hang knew it well—she saw him only as a cold, distant elder. She would die for him, but she would never share a bed with him. She could idly pick any private soldier as a plaything, but she would never entangle herself with him.

Deep down, Qin Chanyue never saw him as a man fit to be her husband.

Even worse—if even a sliver of his overwhelming desire were to leak out and be discovered by her, she would shrink from him like he was poison, avoiding him forever after.

He commanded limitless authority over the twenty-four mountains of the Southern Border, yet Qin Chanyue would still never want him.

Worse than never having something in a lifetime was watching others obtain it effortlessly—while he, even while impersonating another, could never reveal the slightest hint. He could only keep up the charade—for her sake, and his own.

Every night he spent disguised as Zhou Hai was like arsenic-coated candy. He swallowed it bite by bite, until his insides rotted away, revealing the “love” rotting inside him.

His love should have been pure and sweet as fresh milk. But over time, it was tainted with jealousy, laced with lies, and finally poisoned with greed. The tangled desires turned his love into a viscous black ooze, bubbling like tar.

When his skin was pierced, these things that called themselves “love” surged forth, sucking the life from everything they touched—bamboo turned brittle, ponds iced over, hibiscus withered—all drained dry.

Still unsatisfied, they sprouted dark, monstrous tendrils, desperate to find Qin Chanyue, to coil around her excitedly, to crawl over every inch of her, slurring, insistent, relentless: *I love you.*

*I love you, I love you, I love you—do you know? Would you be with me? Whether you know or not, whether you would or not, I love you, I love you, I love you.*

The layered voices twisted into a curse, murmuring in the silent chamber, screaming to be let loose, to rush before Qin Chanyue.

*Come on, say it! Let her know, let her see!*

No more shriveled reeds, no more lifeless blooms—I want to live, I want to live!

His demons shrieked loud enough to split his skull.

Yet the tall man standing at the chamber’s entrance remained motionless.

Solemn, cold, restrained—a decade of self-imposed silence. And so cruel to himself.

All that he desired, all that he could never have, he suppressed ruthlessly. With an expressionless face, he crammed the madness back inside, stitched the gashes shut, ensuring no trace of his longing could be seen.

He couldn’t startle Qin Chanyue.

The price of discovery was too steep. He’d rather steal moments disguised as another, just to spend a little more time with her, than risk everything and drive her away.

So he chose to remain a pitiful fraud.

Lying to her, lying to himself.

When he lifted his head again, he was “Zhou Hai” once more.

In the early autumn of the marquis’s estate, he locked his love away, straightened his robes, slipped into another’s skin, and went to see the woman he adored.

——

Meanwhile, Zhou Chiye had arrived at the Book Sea Courtyard.

When Zhou Chiye first entered, Liu Yandai was propped up in bed, nibbling braised chicken.

The marquis’s estate had never imposed dawn and dusk ceremonies on Liu Yandai—she attended if she wished, skipped if she didn’t. After she became pregnant, every delicacy imaginable was hauled to her door, pampering her like an empress.

Qin Chanyue had recently been falling for men again, not rising until late morning herself, so Liu Yandai also grew lazy and seldom went to pay her respects, sleeping in till late morning each day.

The first thing she did upon waking was to eat something delicious.

She loved to eat, regardless of the hour, and not necessarily out of hunger—she just loved to eat. Thus, the small kitchen whipped up all kinds of tasty dishes for her daily.

Today, the manor’s cook had prepared stewed speckled chicken. The chicken was cleaned, plucked, chopped, and simmered with seasonings into a pot of rich, fragrant broth. Besides the chicken, there was also a plate of braised pork ribs, tender and savory, cooked with thin noodles mixed in. The noodles, salty and slippery, soaked up the broth, and when slurped up in one go, it was utterly satisfying!

For the meat dishes, there were these two. The vegetable dishes consisted of stir-fried greens and a clear soup of tofu pearls and tender greens. Beside the table were a plate of pastries and fruits and a bottle of sour plum juice.

This couldn’t be considered a proper midday meal—ordinarily, the wife of the heir would take lunch in the front hall. But neither Qin Chanyue nor Liu Yandai followed such rules, so this was just something the small kitchen casually prepared. It might not be particularly refined, but it suited Liu Yandai’s tastes perfectly.

She could eat it all!

As the soft, round-faced mistress sat happily on the low couch enjoying her meal, she suddenly heard someone asking to see her outside.

The mistress sat on the couch, chewing on a chicken leg, and asked indistinctly, “Who is it?”

She had stayed in the Book Sea Courtyard for so long, yet no one had ever come to visit her.

“Replying to the mistress,” a maid at her side said softly, “it’s the Second Young Master.”

Liu Yandai froze, holding the chicken leg uncertainly. She lifted it, then set it down, then lifted it again, before finally scrambling to her feet in a fluster. “Help me fix myself up.”

She had been lazy earlier, eating as soon as she woke up without tidying herself, and now she couldn’t receive guests in such a state. She had to hurry and make herself presentable.

A maid stepped forward to assist her. As she pinned up Liu Yandai’s hair, Liu Yandai finally had a moment to ask, “What does he want with me?”

Liu Yandai had never interacted much with Zhou Chiye. Though he addressed her as “sister-in-law,” she knew he had always looked down on her.

Zhou Chiye considered her uncouth and vulgar, having come from the uncivilized south, uneducated—and what’s more, utterly incapable of controlling her own husband. Thus, he had always despised this sister-in-law of his.

It was only because they rarely crossed paths that no overt conflict had arisen.

Now, Zhou Chiye had suddenly come to her, which left her utterly bewildered.

The maid beside her was just finishing pinning up her hair—these past few days, Liu Yandai had eaten many good things, and she looked a little plumper, her cheeks glowing like polished jewels. Even her once-dull hair had grown smoother, and when her locks were arranged, the woman in the mirror revealed a round, full face.

Gone was her early awkwardness, hesitation, and self-doubt, and the Liu Yandai sitting here now bloomed with radiant charm, easygoing yet utterly lovable.

“Replying to the mistress, it’s a matter from the front courtyard,” the maid hesitated for a moment before lowering her voice to relay what she knew.

“Early this morning, that Miss Bai arrived and knelt at the manor gates. No one knew why, but Nanny Zhao went to inquire and returned looking shaken—no one knows why.”

“When the Second Young Master heard Miss Bai was kneeling at the gates, he was so frantic he nearly spun in circles, like a cat on hot bricks. Earlier, some quick-witted servants from our Book Sea Courtyard went to investigate and brought back news—they say Miss Bai is carrying the Second Young Master’s baby. She knelt at the gates hoping to be taken into the manor.”

“Later, the Second Young Master made a beeline for the Moon-Admiring Garden but was turned away. They said the lady of the house wouldn’t see him.”

“After that, the Second Young Master made a beeline for the Book Sea Courtyard.”

As she spoke, the maid carefully placed a floral hairpin on Liu Yandai’s forehead, murmuring, “This servant thinks the Second Young Master has come to beg you to put in a good word for him with the lady of the house.”

The mistress was a bit slow on the uptake, often failing to grasp things clearly, and when dealing with people, her thoughts tended to lag. Thus, some clever maids sought to show off in front of her.

Though the mistress was a bit dull, she was deeply favored! Practically the madam’s favorite—even her own sons didn’t receive as much affection as Liu Yandai. And now that she was pregnant, she’d have a secure place in the household.

Moreover, the mistress had a gentle temperament. Other ladies might scold or strike their servants, but she never did. Sometimes, if she had leftover delicacies, she would share them with the maidservants. If they accidentally broke something, she wouldn’t make a big deal of it. If any of them had troubles at home, she gladly gave them time off and even gave them money—truly a kind lady.

So these maidservants were also eager to offer Liu Yandai advice.

"You mustn’t entertain the Second Young Master," the maidservant said with certainty. "Madam can’t stand that Miss Bai. There have been so many incidents caused by her before, and Madam finds her absolutely infuriating. She would certainly not want her to enter the household."

"Moreover, Second Young Master has never shown you any warmth before and even holds a grudge against the heir. He never came to you before, but now that he needs help, he suddenly seeks you out. Since when does that make sense? People at least pray to Buddha when desperate, but he comes straight to trouble you without so much as a polite word."

"Don’t go asking for trouble," the maidservant finished in one breath. Liu Yandai, seated at the dressing table, nervously twisted the hairpin in her hand and tentatively suggested, "Then... maybe just say I’m not seeing anyone?"

After hearing the maidservant's analysis and advice, she was too scared to face him.

She had long known she couldn't handle the affairs of the marquis’s household, so she stayed out of things whenever she could. If she could steer clear of trouble, she would.

She wasn’t a clever person. Even back in the countryside, she was often bullied by relatives—anyone could take a jab at her, and she never learned to clap back.

With her temperament, no one would trust her in a marriage. The people of Great Chen valued ancestral traditions, where entire families lived together. In Chang'an, there were noble households; in the countryside, there were ancestral halls. No matter where she went, she would have to integrate into another group, and in that group, her husband would only account for one-fifth.

The other four-fifths consisted of various elders, never-ending social duties, and the endless grind of bearing and raising kids, including the myriad difficulties of managing a household in the future.

And Liu Yandai couldn’t handle any of these. She would surely be bullied.

Even if she had the heart to learn, she couldn’t. Heaven had blessed her with a slow wit—even if she were left in the countryside, she couldn’t even keep a patch of dirt. She lacked the ability to survive on her own, which was why her uncle married her into the marquis’s household. He didn’t expect much from her, just that she’d stay sheltered under her mother-in-law’s wing. At the very least, her mother-in-law wouldn’t mistreat her.

So really, she was better off staying out of it from the start.

The maidservant dressing her thought for a moment and nodded. "Then we’ll just say you’re on bed rest."

With that, the maidservant went out to decline.

But who could have expected that the maidservant would return shortly after, looking troubled, and say to Liu Yandai in the chamber, "Young Madam, Second Young Master refuses to leave. He insists on seeing you."

Liu Yandai had been uneasy and flustered, but after stewing in her anxiety for so long and hearing that Zhou Chiye was being so persistent, she suddenly felt a hot rush of anger.

If even saying no didn’t faze him, it just proved he thought she was easy to bully! If it were anyone else, would Zhou Chiye dare to act like this?

He was the one asking for help, yet now it felt like he was forcing her!

"I’d like to see him try barging in!" Liu Yandai puffed up her cheeks and declared firmly. "I’d like to see him try!"

If he wouldn’t leave, then fine—let him roll out a mat and camp outside if he had the nerve!

She had been under Qin Chanyue’s care for so long that even when wronged, she’d learned to snap back a little.

Though it wasn’t exactly fearsome, it was still a vast improvement over before.

It was early autumn, and the sun wasn’t scorching—there was even a faint chill in the air. As Zhou Chiye waited in the Booksea Courtyard, every time the wind rattled the shutters, he’d jerk his head up, half-expecting someone to push the door open.

Liu Yandai refused to come out, while the man outside was working himself into a frenzy.

As Zhou Chiye waited under the eaves, his gaze fixed on the window, he kept biting back the urge to charge inside and confront Liu Yandai.

As a pregnant woman herself, how could Liu Yandai feel no sympathy for Bai Yuning?

She must have heard about how Zhou Yuanting had mistreated Bai Yuning—didn’t she feel even a twinge of guilt?

And now she was just standing by, doing nothing!

At some thought, Zhou Chiye swung his arm down in frustration, his eyes burning with hatred.

This Liu Yandai was just as heartless as Qin Chanyue!

He burned with quiet humiliation.

With all eyes on him, Liu Yandai had just abandoned him there!

Blinded by rage, his blood boiling, he steeled his heart and stormed straight out of the estate.

——

At that moment, Bai Yuning was still kneeling outside the manor gates.

She wore a thin white robe, fluttering lightly in the breeze. Her belly still flat, her pregnancy hidden, so at a glance, one could only see her slender waist—frail as a willow, like the breeze could snap her in two. Tears welling in her eyes, her pale, rosy face was heartbreaking in every way.

She counted the time, occasionally glancing at the sun, but mostly staring at the tiles before her. Should she crumple onto the tiles and fake a faint?

Perhaps that would provoke someone inside to come out.

While Zhou Chiye inside was frantic with impatience, she knelt outside without urgency, coolly calculating. She knew the estate couldn’t hold its ground forever.

She was carrying their heir. Even if Qin Chanyue had no shame left, wouldn’t she care for her grandchild?

If Qin Chanyue refused to let her in, the Second Young Master would later arrange for someone to impeach the manor. Though no one in the household currently held office, they still clung to a crumbling noble title. If Qin Chanyue wanted to keep that title, she’d have to settle the matter quickly and bring Bai Yuning inside.

The more pitiful she seemed, the harder they’d strike later.

As Bai Yuning pondered this, she suddenly saw a figure approaching swiftly from the manor gates. Lifting her head, she locked eyes with her lover.

After so long apart, Zhou Chiye seemed even thinner. His eyes like a fox’s were filled with longing and an unspeakable sorrow. Wordlessly, he dropped to his knees beside her.

“What are you doing?” Bai Yuning gasped in shock. “Get up—now!”

Zhou Chiye pressed his lips together and said firmly, “I’m not leaving you.”

He couldn’t change the situation. He couldn’t persuade his mother. But he could endure this alongside Bai Yuning.

If his mother refused to let her in, he would stay on his knees with her till dawn.

It was early autumn, and an occasional breeze swept fallen leaves across the ground. His voice was so fierce her eyes stung.

She lowered her head slowly and, after a long pause, whispered a shaky “Yes.” Then, glancing around, she whispered, “I just... I needed to see you again.”

Zhou Chiye was her only ally. She could hide this from everyone else, but not from him. So she had to confess from the start.

Zhou Chiye froze for a moment before clasping her hand gently. “It’s alright. You’re back now.”

If she wasn’t pregnant now, they could try again later.

Bai Yuning couldn’t speak.

The girl kneeling on the ground suddenly wanted to cry.

She’d clawed her way back with every trick she had. And now, here was another person who had done everything—just for her return, though his reasons were different from hers.

She had come with an agenda. He had come simply because he loved her.

If only—if only they had met before everything happened, if only they’d been born of the same rank, if only there hadn’t been so many wretched complications—

As they gazed at each other with tearful eyes, they suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Startled, they looked up to see nanny Zhao of the Moon-Viewing Pavilion walking toward them.

When nanny Zhao descended the steps, her hawk-like gaze raked over them, brimming with judgment and disdain.

Zhou Chiye, kneeling on the ground, felt his heart clench as he quickly straightened his neck and asked, "Has Mother sent word?"

At this critical moment, only his mother's orders could bring Nanny Zhao running.

The Nanny Zhao before him pursed her lips and nodded coldly. "Congrats, Second Young Master. The Madam has spoken—she's allowing you to bring that Bai girl back. You may take her to your courtyard to rest."

In truth, Qin Chanyue's original words were far less pleasant. Upon hearing that Zhou Chiye had also gone to kneel at the estate gate, she furrowed her brows and cursed, "That disgraceful man," before finally allowing Nanny Zhao to fetch them.

However, it was just about retrieving her, nothing more—there was no mention of granting any status, not even the word "concubine."

But for Zhou Chiye, this was enough!

Just having his Yuning back had him over the moon!

Seeing Zhou Chiye's elated expression, Nanny Zhao secretly sneered, convinced he had been bewitched. What did Bai Yuning have that was so special to drive him to such madness?

Yet Zhou Chiye brushed off such thoughts.

He hurriedly helped Bai Yuning up, brushing the dust from her robes himself, while she offered a demure curtsy to Nanny Zhao and said, "Thank you, Nanny Zhao, for delivering the message."

Nanny Zhao didn’t even glance at her, addressing Zhou Chiye coldly instead. "Young Master, please return to the estate promptly."

No need to make a spectacle of themselves outside the gates any longer.

Zhou Chiye naturally sensed Nanny Zhao’s attitude. Frowning, he raised his head, about to reprimand her, but Bai Yuning gently stopped him.

As if hearing nothing, she patted Zhou Chiye’s hand and followed him back into the marquis’ estate.

The moment she stepped over the threshold, a smug little smile played across Bai Yuning’s face.

Memories of being driven out of the estate still echoed in her mind, but after all that back and forth, hadn’t she still found her way back in?

In the end, she was the one who had won.

That same day, after returning to Jianming Courtyard with Zhou Chiye, the two were all over each other all afternoon. By evening, Bai Yuning freshened up and headed straight for Qin Chanyue’s Shangyue Garden.

She was itching for a showdown with Qin Chanyue.

As she arrived at the garden’s gate, she happened to bump into Liu Yandai, who had come in a sedan chair to make her complaint to Qin Chanyue.

Liu Yandai had come to report Zhou Chiye’s earlier outburst in her courtyard to her mother-in-law, seeking Qin Chanyue’s support. But to her surprise, she encountered Bai Yuning at the garden’s entrance.

What was Bai Yuning doing here? Knowing full well Qin Chanyue disliked her, why would she come to Shangyue Garden?

If she were Bai Yuning, Liu Yandai thought, having just wormed her way back in, she would have stayed quietly in her courtyard, avoiding trouble.

Yet Bai Yuning stood waiting for her. Upon seeing Liu Yandai approach, her peach-blossom face lit up with a sweet smile. She even took a step forward and performed a side bow, saying, "Yuning greets Sister-in-law."

Gazing at that pearly, blossom-fair complexion and that meek, submissive expression, Liu Yandai suddenly felt ice water trickle down her spine.