Chapter 36 Secret Meeting

Chapter 36 Private Encounter

When Yinrou awoke again, it was already the following night. Her body ached as if trampled, too weak to lift a finger.

After resting and regulating her breath for a long while, she finally regained some energy and managed to push herself up from the bed.

She looked around in confusion—when had she returned?

She remembered being with the Third Young Master last night… Yinrou pressed her lips together as scenes flashed through her mind, each one so mortifying they stole her breath.

Heat flared through her body at an alarming speed, threatening to consume her once more.

The last thing she recalled was fainting from exhaustion. Before losing consciousness, the Third Young Master’s gaze had hung over her, his usually cold face unusually flushed, his gaze fevered, beads of sweat dripping from his brow onto her skin.

Yinrou’s lashes trembled, and she squeezed her eyes shut, frantic to erase those indecent scenes.

Then… he’d brought her back. Her clothes were fresh—had he changed them?

Dazed, she heard the door creak open and tensed, only to see Yuhe stepping inside.

"Miss, you’re up!" Yuhe exclaimed, thrilled she was awake.

"Why are you here?" Yinrou asked, puzzled. Though Yuhe often visited her during idle moments, it was now deep into the night.

"The Third Young Master ordered me to care for you."

"And… the Third Young Master, he…"

"He… washed you, dressed you, and then left," Yuhe explained softly, her cheeks tinged pink.

When she had arrived, the Third Young Master had been holding Yinrou, carefully wiping her down. She had seen the marks covering her body—ones that burned her cheeks just to see—and the Third Young Master’s intense, devouring stare had left her even more flustered upon recollection.

Yinrou, noticing her expression, felt her face flame.

Yuhe, equally embarrassed, murmured, "It’s late yet, Young Miss. You should rest a while longer."

Yinrou nodded and lay back down, tugging the blanket up.

Yet though her body was exhausted, her mind remained startlingly clear. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t sleep, and she lay awake until dawn.

The next day, Chen Yanqing did not appear. By noon, Yuhe rushed into the Shifang Hall, giddy with excitement. "Young Miss, imperial envoys have arrived at the estate with Master Pei! Madam Chen’s hosting a feast!"

Yinrou lifted her gaze and studied her for a long moment before lowering her eyes again. "I understand."

Yuhe tilted her head in confusion. "Aren’t you eager to see Master Pei?"

Yinrou tightened her grip on the brush in her hand. Ink swelled at the brush’s tip before dripping onto the pristine paper, spreading into a chaotic blot.

Like the turmoil in her chest.

Xuanlin’s pained gaze from their last meeting lingered in her mind. He’d never have dreamed she would end up like this.

What face did she have to meet him now?

Even if they met, what good would it do? Nothing could return to how it once was.

"I won’t see him," Yinrou whispered, returning to her copying.

Just knowing Xuanlin was safe was enough for her.

Yuhe hesitated, wanting to say more, but seeing Yinrou’s determination, she could only leave reluctantly, looking back repeatedly.

*

In the front courtyard’s flower hall, Wu Shi stepped inside. Madam Chen looked up and asked, "Is everything arranged? Inspection officials are not like ordinary ones—there must be no mistakes."

Wu Shi nodded. "Rest assured, Mother. We’ve verified the two officials’ preferences and taboos. Nothing will go wrong."

"Good." Madam Chen had faith in Wu Shi. "When can the banquet begin?"

"Third Young Master and Fifth Lord are still discussing matters with the officials in the Xuanhe Hall. It’d be premature."

"Hmm."

Shortly after their conversation, a servant arrived to announce that the discussions were nearly concluded and preparations could begin.

Madam Chen rarely involved herself in such affairs, but given that the guests were officials from the capital, she changed into formal attire to receive them.

Vice Minister Zhang and Pei Xuanlin were seated in the seats of honor. As the sister of Yu Zhengting, Madam Chen was treated with great respect by Vice Minister Zhang, who saluted with clasped hands. "Madam Chen, your generosity honors us."

"The honor is ours to host such esteemed guests," Madam Chen replied with poised elegance.

Chen Yanqing instructed servants to pour wine for the two men. "We’ve prepared dishes closer to southern tastes, lest our local fare displease."

Vice Minister Zhang waved a hand. "You’re too kind, Master Chen. We’re not so particular."

Chen Yanqing smiled. "In that case, shall we dine?"

Though young and a merchant, Chen Yanqing carried himself with none of the fawning merchant’s manner. His measured words and unforced confidence put Vice Minister Zhang at ease, and he nodded approvingly before picking up his chopsticks.

Pei Xuanlin, however, had no appetite as he stared at Chen Yanqing’s mask of amiability. All he wanted was to know where Yinrou was.

Chen Yanqing wouldn’t relinquish her, and Pei Xuanlin needed to find another way. But the Chen family’s influence here was unassailable, and he had no legitimate means to take her away.

"Does the meal suit your tastes, Lord Pei?"

Chen Yanqing turned his gaze toward him, a glint of steel beneath his smile.

Pei Xuanlin stiffened, forcing a smile. "It’s excellent. Thank you for your hospitality, Master Chen."

"Good." Chen Yanqing turned away, feigning nonchalance.

"Speaking of which, Third Young Master, you’re a man of talent in the prime of your life—why remain unwed?"

Pei Xuanlin’s smile did not reach his eyes. In all of Xiyuguan, no one who knew Chen Yanqing’s name had a single negative word to say about his character.

Had everyone been deceived by him, or was the entire Chen family corrupt through and through?

Chen Yanqing replied leisurely, "I’m of similar age to Lord Pei. As a lowly merchant, how could I compare to your accomplishments? Since you, too, remain unmarried, you’d grasp my circumstances."

"I have a betrothed," Pei Xuanlin said, his words laced with a bitter undertone. "The delay is due to… unfinished business."

Vice Minister Zhang coughed lightly, shooting him a warning glance to avoid mentioning the Songs.

Pei Xuanlin clenched his fists, barely restraining himself, swallowing his words.

Chen Yanqing noticed the subtle tension between the two and said with a casual smile, "Is that so?"

His light remark sounded piercingly harsh to Pei Xuanlin. He should have come sooner—no, he should never have let Rou Er go back then, and they wouldn’t be in this situation today.

"So Lord Pei is already betrothed? This old woman offers her congratulations in advance for your happy marriage." Madam Chen, unaware of the truth, smiled warmly.

Chen Yanqing’s smile faded slightly.

Pei Xuanlin clasped his hands respectfully. "Thank you for your kind words, Madam."

"As for Third Young Master, he is still observing filial mourning. Once the mourning period ends, it will indeed be time to arrange his marriage."

Pei Xuanlin thought bitterly. As expected, Chen Yanqing treated Rou Er as nothing more than a toy. Once the Third Young Master took a wife, what would become of Rou Er?

Spotting Wu Mang outside the hall, Pei Xuanlin’s eyes flashed. He excused himself and slipped out.

Madam Chen had been waiting for an opportunity to discuss marriage arrangements with Chen Yanqing. Seizing the moment, she said, "I am quite fond of Zhao Hanyue. Once your mourning period is over, I think we should make the arrangements."

Chen Yanqing knit his brows. He had never considered marriage, and Zhao Hanyue was no exception. Yet, unwilling to embarrass his grandmother publicly, he only replied, "The mourning period lasts three years. Grandmother, you are being too hasty."

Pei Xuanlin left the hall and urgently asked Wu Mang, "Did you see her?"

Wu Mang shook his head. "I only learned that the young lady is in Shifang Pavilion. It’s in the inner courtyard—I couldn’t get in."

Pei Xuanlin’s face darkened as he stared at the arched gateway leading to the inner courtyard. The thought of Yin Rou trapped behind those labyrinthine paths made him want to storm in.

Wu Mang sensed his intent. "Young Master, this is still the Chen residence."

Pei Xuanlin’s face hardened. "So what?"

No matter what, he had to see her.

Avoiding the servants, Pei Xuanlin slipped into the inner courtyard and followed the directions Wu Mang had given. After what seemed like forever, he finally spotted Shifang Pavilion.

His pulse quickened as he quickened his steps.

Inside, Yin Rou sat copying scriptures, moving mechanically, as if her soul had been drained. Only this mindless task kept her from drowning in despair.

When strong arms suddenly wrapped around her, she went rigid. The warm breath against her ear made her whisper, "Third Young Master?"

But in the next instant, she realized her mistake. The person holding her was shaking uncontrollably, his grip so tight it felt bone-crushing. The Third Young Master would never lose composure like this.

"Rou Er."

The voice at her ear felt like it came from another lifetime, heavy with pain and longing.

Yin Rou’s mind went blank. Her pupils constricted as tears welled up. She struggled to speak, but no sound came out.

Pei Xuanlin turned her to face him, bending down to gaze deeply into her eyes. His handsome face was wet with tears, his voice shaking. "Rou Er, I’m sorry... I’m so sorry I came too late."

The lump in her throat made tears spill uncontrollably. Each drop burned Pei Xuanlin. He had never seen his Rou Er cry like this.

In his memories, she was always full of life—sulking playfully, turning away when upset, but never shrinking in fear like this. No one had ever dared to make her cry.

His hands trembled as he wiped her tears. Through her blurred vision, Yin Rou looked at him, and all her pent-up grief surged forth. Like a lost child, she whispered, "Xuanlin... why did you take so long?"

"I’m sorry." Pei Xuanlin was consumed by guilt. He wished he could stab himself. "When I heard about your father, I tried to reach you..."

He bowed his head in anguish. By the time he learned of the Song family’s downfall, the news had already spread like wildfire. His mother threatened suicide to stop him, delaying him for days. By then, her father and brother had been executed, and she had been sent away.

"I’m sorry." Pei Xuanlin pressed her hand against his eyes, his scalding tears burning into her palm.

Yin Rou seemed to come to her senses. Softly, she said, "I don’t blame you, Xuanlin."

Her father had been a pawn for the powerful. Even if Xuanlin had come, how could he have fought against those high-ranking officials? He would only have been pulled down with her.

Her palm burned from his tears. She flexed her fingers slightly before pulling her hand back, hesitating before gently patting his shoulder. "Xuanlin... are you well?"

How could he be? He had spent sleepless nights worrying about her, searching for her, his heart aching at the thought of her suffering.

Pei Xuanlin grasped her hand, lifting his head with fiery determination. "I’ll take you away from here!"

Then his gaze caught the faint red mark near her collar. His eyes darkened as yesterday’s events flooded his mind.

Yin Rou noticed his stare and the visible marks on her skin. Shame, like betrayal, crushed her, but it also brought clarity. "Just seeing you again, knowing you’re safe... that’s enough for me. Xuanlin, you must be happy."

"You don’t want to leave with me?" Pei Xuanlin’s eyes turned red, his grip tightening reflexively.

The pain made Yin Rou flinch, and his anger frightened her further. In just these short months, she had become someone who flinched at the slightest harsh look.

Pei Xuanlin’s heart ached as if cut by a knife. His Rou Er was meant to be carefree, vibrant, unafraid.

"Don’t be scared," he murmured, loosening his hold and gently blowing on her hand, just as he used to comfort her. "I know you were forced. I failed to protect you. It’s my fault. But I *will* find a way to get you out."

As he knelt before her, his tenderness flooded her with memories of happier times.

How could she not yearn for it? But she knew—the past was already lost.

"Xuanlin, I don’t want to burden you." She still had to clear her father’s name. One misstep meant ruin. She couldn’t drag him down. He was the only family she had left. She wanted him to be safe, even if it meant he would one day belong to someone else.

"Look at me—I’m fine now. And you... you must live well too." Her voice broke.

"Fine?" Pei Xuanlin suddenly asked.

The devastation in his gaze stole her breath.

——

In the hall, Chen Yanqing chatted amiably with Vice Minister Zhang, though his eyes had flicked toward the exit three times already.

How long had Pei Xuanlin been gone?

He idly twirled an empty wine cup between his fingers, deep in thought.

After a moment, he set it down. "I just recalled that I have a fine jar of October White stored away."

"Oh?" Vice Minister Zhang perked up. "I’ve heard October White is notoriously difficult to brew—timing and climate must be precise, or the liquor won’t achieve its signature clarity."

"Good wine deserves a connoisseur." Chen Yanqing stood, smoothing his sleeves. "Please wait a moment, Vice Minister. I’ll fetch it."

He strode out of the hall, turning down the corridor.

Shu Yan followed, puzzled. "Young Master, the cellar isn’t this way."

He pointed in the opposite direction. Chen Yanqing changed course without a word.

Chen Yanqing's gaze remained steady, his voice low and firm, "Go to the Ten Directions Hall."

...

The Ten Directions Hall was deathly quiet.

"Then what should I do?"

Yin Rou's empty, lifeless question shocked Pei Xuanlin like a sudden awakening. How could he still question her? No one felt more pain than he did, and he knew better than anyone the suffering Rou Er had endured.

Regret flooded through him as he pulled Yin Rou into a tight embrace, pressing his face against her cold cheek, as if she might disappear if he let go. "It's all behind us now. Believe me, I will take you away."

The one she'd yearned for was right before her, holding her so tightly she could feel his warmth, his steady heartbeat—yet it still felt like an unbridgeable gap lay between them.

Yin Rou had imagined countless times that Xuanlin would descend like a deity to rescue her from the flames. But it had been too long—she was already burned down to nothing.

If she left with him, what then? She'd only drag him down.

Slowly, she shook her head and pressed against Pei Xuanlin's shoulder.

Suddenly, Shu Yan's urgent voice reached her ears—

"Young Master, Lord Zhang is likely still waiting."

The moment Shu Yan spoke, he shrank under Chen Yanqing's icy glare, lowering his head in silence.

At first, he hadn't known why the Third Young Master had come to the Ten Directions Hall at this moment. But when he saw Qing Feng being summoned and ordered to guard the perimeter, he guessed the reason.

Silently, he prayed there wouldn’t be any unwelcome visitors inside—otherwise, provoking the Third Young Master’s wrath would be no trivial matter.

Yin Rou gazed vacantly toward the moon gate, dread slowly building in her eyes. Had the Third Young Master arrived?

Pei Xuanlin also heard the commotion. His face hardened as he stood, one arm still holding protectively around Yin Rou.

If the Third Young Master, already furious yesterday, were to see Xuanlin here—Yin Rou’s face paled. She clutched at Pei Xuanlin’s sleeve. "Xuanlin, you must leave now."

Pei Xuanlin’s gaze was icy. How could he just leave? Even if Chen Yanqing discovered him, he wouldn’t let go.

Only when he saw the desperation in Yin Rou’s reddened eyes did Pei Xuanlin make himself let go and slip into the corridor, concealing himself.

Yin Rou hurried after him, ensuring he was truly gone before quickly brushing away her tears. As soon as she lowered her hand, a tall, elegant figure appeared beneath the moon gate.

He stepped through without haste, his robes swaying with perfect grace. Yet Yin Rou felt a suffocating pressure building.

Chen Yanqing stopped before her, his gaze sweeping over her with its usual chill detachment. But with every inch he scrutinized, Yin Rou felt as though her skin were being stripped bare, exposing her innermost self.

Steeling herself, she lifted her eyes. "Third Young Master."

Chen Yanqing remained silent. Under his unreadable gaze, Yin Rou’s breath caught, her willpower the only thing keeping her from looking away.

"Why stand outside?" he finally spoke. "Aren’t you cold?"

Yin Rou truly understood the meaning of guilt. Though his words were ordinary, she couldn’t shake the feeling he had noticed something. Clenching her palms, she forced a smile. "Just needing fresh air."

"Hm." His voice was light, but beneath the calm lurked an imperceptible danger.

"Third Young Master, please come inside." Yin Rou lowered her gaze and turned to leave, only for his fingers to lightly tilt her chin, raising her face upward.

Chen Yanqing’s lashes lowered slightly as his appraising gaze roamed over her features, as though inspecting his possession for any blemish.

Yin Rou’s breath faltered, her unease magnifying.

When his thumb brushed under her eye, she trembled. Chen Yanqing watched her reaction with a mildly amused expression. "Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?"

"No," she denied instinctively, wanting to shake her head but unable to move under his grip.

Her heart hammered wildly—she couldn’t let him find out. Pretending calm, she explained, "The wind irritated my eyes."

She couldn’t tell if he believed her. He only smiled slightly, his exceptionally handsome face shedding its usual coldness—enough to dazzle. Yet Yin Rou sensed something ominous beneath that smile, something almost dangerous.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. "I thought you might still be upset about yesterday."

His voice was cool, but his words held a lingering, unsettling intimacy—especially paired with his aloof beauty, making Yin Rou’s cheeks flush involuntarily.

Chen Yanqing’s thumb lingered under her eye, stroking idly, each touch heightening the tension in her chest. Worse still, she couldn’t tell if her unease stemmed from guilt or something else.

When he finally withdrew his hand, Yin Rou let out a relieved breath—only for warmth to press against her eyelids.

Her trembling lashes were caught between his lips, soft kisses trailing from her eyelids to her cheeks, each touch setting her skin aflame.

The heat lingered at her ear as Chen Yanqing traced its curve with his tongue.

Yin Rou’s strength left her. Her lips parted in quick, shallow breaths, her hands rising to clutch his robes—only to be caught and forced behind her back. His mouth descended to her earlobe, the small earring taken into his mouth along with it.

The cold metal pressed against her tender flesh, both enveloped in wet heat. Yin Rou staggered, the sharp pain and soft caresses overwhelming her. A soft whimper escaped as she drew in slightly.

Chen Yanqing showed no mercy, the wet sounds of his kisses piercing her ears, sinking deep into her soul—as though he, too, was lost in her sweetness.

Yet, in stark contrast to the tender kiss, his gaze swept past her, fixing on the empty corner with frozen indifference.

Pei Xuanlin’s fists clenched until his knuckles threatened to burst, veins bulging in his bloodshot eyes.

Yin Rou’s whimpers hammered at his ears, shattering his restraint piece by piece. Agony and fury surged, unbearable for even a moment longer.

He strode from the shadows, his steps sharp as he advanced toward them.

Chen Yanqing moved swiftly, releasing her earlobe to pull the dazed Yin Rou into his arms.

Her fair skin was flushed red, glistening wetly. The earring swayed before finally slipping to the ground.

Pei Xuanlin’s brow twitched as he pointed at Chen Yanqing. "Let her go!"

The roar struck Yin Rou like a blow. Seeing Pei Xuanlin emerge, her chest tightened violently.

Xuanlin hadn’t left—he had seen everything. The pain and fury in his eyes said it all.

Even knowing he already understood, his devastated gaze still choked her, leaving her unable to face him.

Shame burned through her. She instinctively tried to shrink away, but the hand on her shoulder tightened, forcing her still.

Her lashes fluttered in panic as she looked up at Chen Yanqing—his cold, unreadable expression only deepened her dread.

If Yin Rou felt shame and guilt before Pei Xuanlin, her emotions toward Chen Yanqing were far more tangled.

At first, she had needed his strength for protection. Later, she grew attached to the warmth and security he offered. Now—she didn’t know.

She often reminded herself they were from different worlds, but yesterday’s relentless possession had shattered all her thoughts.

"Lord Pei is quite amusing," Chen Yanqing remarked, his tone smooth and polite. "Trespassing into the inner courtyard of the Chen residence, yet demanding I release what is mine."

But Yin Rou was standing close enough to see the flash of menace in his eyes.

This was the first time she truly sensed his anger, so intense it choked the air around them with an oppressive weight.

"Third Young Master, aren’t you afraid of being exposed as nothing but a two-faced hypocrite, even forcing yourself on a woman?" The words that followed were too vile, and fearing they would wound Yin Rou, Lord Pei gritted his teeth and swallowed them.

"Hypocrite or not, it depends solely on my willingness," Chen Yanqing replied coolly, his indifferent demeanor laced with an arrogance rarely seen before.

"However," his tone shifted abruptly, suddenly cryptic, "Lord Pei speaks of coercion."

"Is it not true?! You're just as rotten as your father!"

For over twenty years, Chen Yanqing had heard nothing but praise. This was the first time someone dared call him vile—and worse, likened him to his father.

It wasn’t untrue.

Chen Yanqing turned his gaze to Yin Rou in his arms. He was indeed despicable, but the one who had pushed him to this could not escape responsibility.

"Song Yinrou, Lord Pei claims I forced you. Is that so?"

Yin Rou’s heart lodged in her throat. If it were coercion, Third Young Master had never forced her—it was she who...

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Before she could answer, Chen Yanqing released her. "If I truly forced you, you may leave now."

Her eyes snapped up. Chen Yanqing stood with his hands behind his back, his cold indifference stung her.

"Rou Er!" Lord Pei’s voice was urgent as he reached out to her.

Chen Yanqing watched her calmly, yet she felt a growing dread, especially as her silence stretched.

He twisted his ring impatiently, the veins in his hand bulging with barely leashed fury, ready to snap.

If she dared nod, if she dared leave—Chen Yanqing’s eyes glinted with a cold smile—then neither Song Yinrou nor Lord Pei would walk away unharmed.