Chapter 37: Sealed

Chapter 37: Sealed Off

The private room in the Flower Pavilion was filled with a hazy, fragrant mist.

Qiao Wan reclined on the chaise, her legs being gently kneaded with just the right amount of force, an overwhelming comfort washing over her.

No wonder she was so drawn to indulgence; such ease and comfort would likely tempt even the greatest immortal to linger for a few moments.

But as the fragrance in the room grew stronger, Qiao Wan felt a dryness in her throat, though it wasn’t exactly thirst. She coughed lightly and casually said, “You…” Only as she spoke did she realize she didn’t even know the young man’s name.

“My name is Sizhu,” the young man replied softly.

“Sizhu,” Qiao Wan called him naturally, praising, “How is your skill so exceptional?”

Sizhu smiled shyly. “My family was poor, and I was sold into the Flower Pavilion at a young age. The only skill I learned was how to serve others. If you like it, Miss, you can come back to the Flower Pavilion in the future, and I will serve you again.”

Qiao Wan fell silent.

She thought to herself that she really wasn’t a good person.

Hearing about someone else’s tragic experiences, while she felt pity, she also found a perverse solace in it.

At least she still had luxuries and comforts; she wasn’t the worst off. She was just used, tested as a subject for medicines, and unloved—that was all.

Sizhu glanced up at Qiao Wan. “You’ve been sitting on the chaise for a while, Miss. Let me knead your shoulders for you.”

Qiao Wan moved her shoulders slightly; they were indeed a bit stiff, so she nodded in agreement.

Sizhu respectfully stood up, took a few steps back, and first walked to the incense burner. He quietly stirred the incense inside before moving behind Qiao Wan, gently massaging her shoulders.

Qiao Wan half-closed her eyes in comfort, feeling more and more that her trip to the Flower Pavilion today was worth it.

But then… Qiao Wan frowned slightly. The oppressive heat in her chest that had been dormant for some time suddenly surged up again.

Yet it felt different from the previous bouts of stifling discomfort. Before, it had been accompanied by a dull ache, but now it was a wave of scorching heat that made her head feel dizzy and muddled.

Qiao Wan couldn’t help but rub her temples.

“Is something wrong, Miss?” Sizhu asked softly.

Qiao Wan paused, feeling as though Sizhu’s voice, so close to her ear, sounded hazy. It took her a moment to process his words before she shook her head.

Sizhu watched the woman’s back, her cheeks gradually flushing red. He pursed his lips and lowered his gaze. “Let me massage your acupoints for you, Miss.” As he spoke, his fingers took on a suggestive tone as he moved to gently push Qiao Wan’s hand away from her temple.

But before he could touch her, a dagger shot out from the doorway, piercing straight through his pale, slender wrist.

Sizhu stared in horror at the dagger still embedded in the flesh of his wrist. His entire hand seemed to hang by only a few remaining strands of tissue, dangling precariously.

It took a long moment for the overwhelming pain to slowly wash over him. Sizhu’s mouth fell open, his expression twisting in agony, but before he could cry out, he was knocked unconscious.

A figure in white stepped slowly into the room, exuding an air of noble elegance. The thick carpet muffled his footsteps.

As he caught a whiff of the fragrance in the room, he paused, then walked to the table and picked up a nearly empty teacup, sniffing it lightly. The chill in his eyes deepened.

Qiao Wan faintly heard a few intermittent noises. The rich scent of aphrodisiac incense was now mingled with other subtle fragrances.

She assumed Sizhu had gone to refill the tea and paid it no mind.

But after waiting for what felt like a long time without Sizhu resuming the massage, Qiao Wan urged, “Why are you taking so long?”

The person behind her looked at Qiao Wan on the chaise. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-closed, her long lashes trembling faintly like butterfly wings.

He remained silent for a moment before stepping leisurely over the young man lying in a pool of blood and slowly walking to stand behind Qiao Wan.

Qiao Wan patted her slightly sore shoulders and neck. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the influence of the aphrodisiac incense. “Don’t slack off. I need to return before late afternoon.”

So, she still remembered she had to return before late afternoon?

The person behind her let out a silent, mocking laugh, his gaze following her movements and lightly settling on her neck.

Her neck was fair and delicate, so much so that one could almost see the blood coursing vigorously through her veins. It looked as though it could be easily snapped with one hand.

After a long moment, he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading them rhythmically.

Qiao Wan frowned slightly, feeling that his hands weren’t as warm as before. Even through layers of clothing, she could sense a faint chill.

But soon, she was drawn in by the comfortable pressure. She sighed contentedly and leaned back. “Considering your lonely circumstances, if I gain my freedom in a few days, I’ll redeem you and bring you to my residence for a while.”

At the very least, she could enjoy herself properly before leaving the capital.

The hands massaging her shoulders stiffened for a moment before slowly creeping up from her shoulders to her vulnerable neck. They caressed her gently yet eerily, as if soothing a beloved pet.

A cold, sinister chill spread from the back of Qiao Wan’s neck. She even felt that those hands might, in the next moment, uncontrollably strangle her.

She instinctively shifted away and turned her head, exclaiming softly, “Why are your hands so…” Cold.

The last word died on her lips.

Qiao Wan stared at the man behind her. His expression was like frost atop clouds, pale and translucent, yet his eyes were dark and somber, tinged with a bloody hue as they stared directly at her. The corners of his lips curled into a smile. “Aphrodisiac incense, Dual-Dust powder. Her Highness has refined tastes.”

“Is Her Highness planning to buy another person to take back?” Mu Chi asked gently.

Qiao Wan’s eyelashes trembled at his gentle tone, and she frowned in response. “Why are you here?”

As she spoke, she glanced around the room. When she saw Sizhu on the ground and his right arm hanging by only a few strands of flesh, her face paled. “You killed him?”

“Her Highness hasn’t answered my question yet,” Mu Chi ignored her query, leaning in to stare her down. “Is Her Highness planning to buy another person to take back?”

Just like how she had once spent twenty thousand taels to buy him without a second thought.

He thought back to earlier—the room filled with an alluring, seductive fragrance, her lazily reclining there, allowing that affected young man to suggestively massage her shoulders.

Just like the things she had asked him to do back at the princess’s residence.

A strange, twisted ache and sourness in his heart made it difficult for him to maintain his composure.

“What did he do wrong for you to kill him?” Qiao Wan looked at the pool of blood on the floor and couldn’t help but stand up, though she staggered slightly.

She paused, her consciousness gradually clearing. Only now did she realize something was off about the aphrodisiac incense, and the scorching heat in her chest felt even more bizarre.

Qiao Wan cast a complicated glance at Sizhu on the ground.

Mu Chi looked at her and suddenly let out a mocking laugh. “Do you feel sorry for him?” he asked with amusement. “Now that he’s a useless cripple without hands, do you still want him?”

Qiao Wan deliberately opposed him. “Yes, why wouldn’t I!”

Mu Chi’s eyes narrowed, and he habitually massaged the webbing of his right thumb. “What if he’s dead?”

“Mu Chi!” Qiao Wan, angered by his blatant threat, glared at him, but the heat in her chest made her dizzy. “Was it you who allowed me to leave the residence? Where I go, what I do—what does it have to do with you?”

The smile on Mu Chi's lips faded slightly at her words, and he took a few steps toward her.

Fearing he might resort to force after losing the argument, Qiao Wan hastily staggered back two steps.

Noticing her movement, Mu Chi paused, stopping in his tracks to gaze at her with a heavy expression. "Using my money to please me, just to buy yourself a chance to leave the estate."

"Qiao Wan, in your heart, am I really so easily dismissed?"

"What do you mean, your money?" Qiao Wan clenched her fists, letting her nails dig into her palms. The sharp pain finally suppressed the waves of dizziness. She stared intently at him. "It was you who took it upon yourself to donate my silver—it was far more than just a few thousand taels! Besides, even without those gold and jewels, the Jing family’s betrothal gifts would have been more than enough to repay you!"

Before the Jing family left the capital, she had intended to return those betrothal gifts.

But Jing Lan had only smiled and said, "If you return them, they’ll just be confiscated. Think of it as your gain."

"Qiao Wan!" Mu Chi felt a tightly drawn string in his heart snap at the mention of "Jing family" and "betrothal gifts."

He knew all too well that if not for the palace coup, she would have truly married Jing Lan.

Mu Chi thought perhaps he really should have strangled her earlier.

That way, she wouldn’t so easily sway his emotions again.

He had always prided himself on his composure, yet only when faced with her did he lose his rationality and self-control.

But he couldn’t accept it—why did it have to be her?

Why should someone as willful and extravagant as Qiao Wan have such a hold over his emotions?

Seeing the anger in Mu Chi's eyes, Qiao Wan was taken aback. "Mu Chi, why are you so angry?"

She was genuinely puzzled. "Didn’t you already know I’m dissolute and materialistic? If I weren’t like this, would I have bought you back then?"

"So, I can buy you, but I can’t buy others?"

Mu Chi watched her with a dark expression, his Adam's apple moving as if he wanted to respond, but in the end, he said nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, he suddenly laughed. "Qiao Wan, you’re right. I was the one who allowed you to leave the estate."

He must have been mad to soften at the sight of those useless gold hairpins and sachets, letting her go out to have fun.

As he spoke, Mu Chi strode to Qiao Wan and said gently, "But the only mistake I made was letting you out. Perhaps I shouldn’t have even allowed you out of your chambers."

With that, he turned away. "Escort Princess Changle back to the estate."

"Mu Chi!" Qiao Wan called out angrily.

But Mu Chi walked out without looking back.

Several guards entered the room and, seeing Qiao Wan’s furious expression, hesitated. "Princess Changle, our apologies."

They moved to approach her.

"I can walk on my own!"

Still seething, Qiao Wan grabbed a cloak nearby, shook her head, and made to leave.

But she paused at the sight of Sizhu on the floor and irritably left a few silver notes behind.

Outside the Flower Pavilion, Si Li was blocking Yicui, who was trying to rush in. Seeing Mu Chi emerge, he hurried forward. "Young master, this Flower Pavilion—"

Mu Chi didn’t break stride, his expression cold. "Shut it down."

As Qiao Wan descended the stairs and heard this, her steps faltered slightly, but she soon resumed her calm demeanor and walked out.

The cool breeze outside eased the heat in her chest somewhat.

A carriage was waiting at the entrance. Unwilling to share the ride with Mu Chi again, Qiao Wan turned to walk back.

Two guards stopped her once more.

Qiao Wan pressed her lips tightly together. After a brief standoff, she finally relented.

But as she was about to board the carriage, she paused.

On the street opposite the Flower Pavilion, the green-robed scholar from Heyi Lou earlier was walking toward her, holding a few scrolls. He seemed to recognize her, clear surprise in his eyes, before his gaze swept over the Flower Pavilion’s signboard behind her.