Chapter 4 Stolen Kiss “I missed you…”

Chapter 4: The Stolen Kiss – "I Miss You..."

"It's actually her!"

The embroidery room could no longer hold its peace. Every face reflected a myriad of emotions—some envious, others resentful. Du Yan’s gaze, in particular, was venomous, fixed intently on her.

Ren Hanzhen’s expression stiffened for a fleeting moment before she forced a smile. "Rong Rong, congratulations."

Yue Rongrong was utterly bewildered. Before she could utter a word, Auntie Ming spoke, "Rong Rong, prepare yourself well. You are to go to the Marquis of Wujing’s residence tomorrow." After giving further instructions to the other embroiderers, she turned and departed.

Zhen Xi felt a mix of joy and disappointment. "Rong Rong, it’s good that it’s you." Better Rong Rong than Ren Hanzhen.

These words landed like a stinging slap across the faces of Du Yan and Ren Hanzhen.

Du Yan sneered, "Some people must have resorted to sly, seductive tricks behind the scenes, even after angering the Marquis."

The other embroiderers remained silent. Yue Rongrong, regaining her composure, looked at Du Yan with an impassive face. "Du Yan, do you desire to go that badly? If so, you should speak directly to Auntie Ming. Sarcastic remarks here are futile." Her mind was in disarray; she had neither the time nor the inclination to engage with Du Yan. A cold glint flickered in her serene eyes.

Suddenly exposed, Du Yan’s face flushed crimson. She sprang up, scissors in hand. "Who do you think you are, acting so superior? Do you imagine being chosen makes you better than us?"

Yue Rongrong let out a cold laugh. "If you willingly place yourself beneath me, why bother disparaging others?"

"You—!"

"Stop arguing," Ren Hanzhen stepped forward gracefully, her voice soft. "Rong Rong, we are all sisters who live and work together day in and day out. Let’s calm down."

Yue Rongrong fixed her with a penetrating gaze and sneered. "Indeed, but those words should be directed at Du Yan."

Ren Hanzhen’s face paled, and she lowered her head, saying nothing more.

Zhong Yu quickly interjected, "Rong Rong, you should go prepare. Don’t delay your important task."

Zhen Xi also smiled. "Yes, you should go."

The commotion finally began to subside.

However, Yue Rongrong sought out Auntie Ming instead. Upon entering the embroidery room, she stated, "Auntie, I do not wish to go."

Two and a half years prior, when Auntie Ming first encountered Yue Rongrong, she was covered in wounds, barely clinging to life. Auntie Ming had saved her. She still remembered how lifeless Yue Rongrong had been then—a stark contrast to the vibrant woman she was now.

But Auntie Ming was unaware of Yue Rongrong’s past with Shen Jichen. Seeing her continued reluctance, she said, "Do you not need money? Although this marriage has not yet been publicly announced, the Duke’s residence is already bustling with preparations. If you go to embroider Miss Jin’s wedding dress, you will surely receive handsome rewards."

Yue Rongrong felt a subtle stir of temptation. She needed money—a substantial sum. For that, she could disregard everything else. So, what was she truly afraid of? Seeing him? Now that he was on the verge of marriage, her fear seemed both ridiculous and pathetic. She took a deep breath and said resolutely, "Very well, I will go."

Meanwhile, Du Yan was still consoling Ren Hanzhen. No matter how indignant Du Yan became, Ren Hanzhen merely offered a faint smile, as if genuinely unconcerned.

"Who has upset our esteemed Miss Du?" a flamboyant voice echoed nearby.

Du Yan turned to see Cheng Qian entering the embroidery workshop. Cheng Qian was the son of the owner of Jinxiu Tower. The embroiderers collectively greeted him: "Young Master."

Young Master Cheng Qian seemed pleased, waving casually. Du Yan glanced at him. "Young Master, it’s been a while since you last visited. Do you have free time today? Hanzhen was bullied. Will you intervene?"

Cheng Qian frowned at Ren Hanzhen. "Who dared to bully you?"

Du Yan snorted. "Who else but Yue Rongrong! She stole Hanzhen’s assignment!"

Cheng Qian’s face instantly darkened. "The Marquis of Wujing’s assignment was given to Yue Rongrong? Where is she?"

Du Yan replied, "Likely returned to Cloud Brocade Courtyard."

No sooner had she spoken than Cheng Qian turned and departed. Ren Hanzhen frowned. "Du Yan, please don’t be like this."

She said it, yet made no move to stop Cheng Qian.

Seething with anger, Cheng Qian rushed to Cloud Brocade Courtyard, where he encountered Yue Rongrong returning from Auntie Ming’s place. Their eyes met. Cheng Qian was momentarily stunned, but Yue Rongrong had already averted her gaze, passing him without even a greeting. Cheng Qian’s heart jolted, and anger blazed in his eyes.

"Yue Rongrong, what makes you so arrogant!" He seized her arm, attempting to pull her back, but in his rage, he used excessive force. Yue Rongrong stumbled and was thrown against the wall, her small face contorting in pain as she clutched her shoulder.

Cheng Qian froze, about to step forward, but Yue Rongrong had already straightened up and shot him a cold glance. He stopped in his tracks, standing still with an expression of disdain.

"Does the Young Master require anything further?"

Her cold, dismissive demeanor, unwilling to utter another word, only fueled Cheng Qian’s imperiousness.

"Go and decline the assignment from the Marquis’s residence!"

Yue Rongrong sneered. "The Young Master is overstepping his bounds."

Cheng Qian’s face immediately flushed bright red. She was right—though he was the Young Master, he held no official position at Jinxiu Tower. But this only intensified his anger! He was still the Young Master, while Yue Rongrong was merely an embroiderer taking orders. He couldn't comprehend her arrogance and wished he could utterly crush her, forcing her to beg for mercy.

Yue Rongrong was oblivious to his thoughts, nor did she care. Seeing his silence, she turned and entered Cloud Brocade Courtyard.

The next day, having prepared herself and gathered her embroidery bag, she was ready to depart. Zhen Xi linked arms with her, smiling. "Shall I pick you up after work?"

Before Yue Rongrong could reply, Zhong Yu interjected, "You little imp, are you trying to curry favor with the nobility?"

Zhen Xi stamped her foot in anger. "Nonsense!"

Zhong Yu said coolly, "Then why offer to pick her up today when you never did before when Rong Rong went to work at the manor? Aren’t you hoping to catch Marquis Shen’s eye?"

Yue Rongrong’s heart stirred slightly as she looked at Zhen Xi. Zhen Xi, embarrassed and furious, retorted, "I am not! I just wanted to have sweet soup with Rong Rong after work. Fine, I won’t go then!" With that, she turned and ran off.

Zhong Yu held Yue Rongrong’s hand, preventing her from giving chase. "Let her be. Ever since embroiderer Sun was taken as a concubine by a noble family last year, this girl has been restless. Her childhood sweetheart is about to take the imperial exams. Though from a humble background, he possesses the talent of a zhuangyuan. Instead of cherishing her good life, she’s lost in daydreams. I only fear she might one day ruin her future."

Zhen Xi was two years younger than them, just seventeen. Zhong Yu had known Zhen Xi longer and truly regarded her as a younger sister.

Yue Rongrong nodded. "Then I will bring her sweet soup when I return."

The two exchanged a smile and passed by the embroidery workshop, where they saw Cheng Qian ostentatiously distributing fruit to everyone.

Zhong Yu pursed her lips. "A wastrel, always idling among women, never striving for improvement."

Yue Rongrong paid no heed and soon exited through the western side gate of the embroidery building.

The late winter wind still bit at her face. Yue Rongrong pulled her cloak and hood tighter, walking two long streets before stopping in front of a mansion on Xuanwu Street.

Though not as prestigious as Wangjing Gate, Xuanwu Street was still home to officials of the third rank and above.

Looking up at the five-section gate, the words "Imperially Commissioned Marquis of Wujing Residence" struck Yue Rongrong’s eyes. Her pupils contracted, and she stood transfixed. Even when the gatekeeper came over to inquire, she forced herself to sound calm. "I am an embroiderer from Jinxiu Tower." She presented the wooden token from Jinxiu Tower.

Upon hearing this, the gatekeeper’s initially imperious attitude immediately shifted. He became respectful, as if transformed. "So it is you. The master has already given instructions, saying you would arrive today. Please come in."

Noticing she was bundled up tightly, only her eyes visible—lively and glistening with astonishment, like shimmering ripples—the gatekeeper felt a stir and became even more attentive. "Watch your step on the stairs."

Yue Rongrong paid no attention to his change in attitude, but her composure faltered at the words "the master has given instructions." As she ascended the steps, she almost stumbled on her skirt. The gatekeeper made a gesture to support her. "Be careful."

She entered through the side gate and was immediately guided by another servant. Along the way, a different maid took over guiding her through each courtyard. She followed closely, not daring to fall behind or look around. Finally, she was led into a courtyard and then into the main room, where various brocades and embroidery tools were already set up. At a glance, the exquisite cloud brocades and cloud gauzes left her awestruck.

How opulent, how extravagant—such precious objects were displayed so openly without even a single guard in sight.

Turning her head, she caught sight of the bright red cloud-patterned brocade placed to the side, red as fiery sunset clouds, its vividness made her eyes ache. As she looked away, two maids entered, bowing respectfully and taking their positions on either side. A moment later, the bejeweled Jin Tangsong arrived, stepping gracefully into the room. The maids behind her helped remove her cloak and handed her a hand warmer.

Yue Rongrong watched as Jin Tangsong passed by with an affected air, casting her a glance before waving dismissively at the maids, her tone drawn out: "You may leave now."

She carried herself with the authority of a matron of the house.

Only when the two of them were alone did Jin Tangsong reveal a youthful arrogance, glancing disdainfully at Yue Rongrong: "Were you perhaps hoping?"

"Hoping for what?" Yue Rongrong responded somewhat blankly.

Jin Tangsong smiled coyly: "Hoping that it was my cousin who asked for you to come today."

Yue Rongrong felt a sharp pang in her heart, and she pressed her lips tightly together.

She didn’t need to answer; Jin Tangsong could already tell from her expression. Instead of feeling the satisfaction of humiliating Yue Rongrong, she grew irritated, gripping the hand warmer tightly to compose herself before speaking coldly: "You don’t actually think my cousin still has any feelings for you, do you? In fact, back then, he never really cared for you—otherwise, why wouldn’t he have brought you back to the capital?"

Watching Yue Rongrong’s face grow increasingly pale, Jin Tangsong grew more excited, prodding at her old wounds: "Back then, when my cousin first arrived in Hangzhou, he was bored and happened to meet you. He found you somewhat amusing, so he passed the time with you. Someone of his status would never genuinely care for someone like you. Seeing you abandoned, I felt pity. I thought you’d want this job, so I’m giving it to you out of charity. Do it well, and both the Duke’s residence and the Marquis’s household will reward you handsomely."

Yue Rongrong clenched her fingers, as if struggling against some unseen force.

Memories of Shen Jichen’s lazy, indifferent demeanor flooded her mind—him speaking to the Grand Princess: "It was just a bit of fun, nothing serious."

The Grand Princess frowned: "So, you won’t be bringing her back to the capital?"

After a long silence, Shen Jichen’s voice was low: "That’s right."

"And what about the marriage certificate?"

Another stretch of silence, then the most cruel, icy words: "It was fake."

She had fled in distress, and in her panic, she ran straight into a large tree, the pain bringing tears to her eyes. That night, she tore that precious marriage certificate to shreds and, when he entered the room, threw the fragments at his feet. The pieces were so light they drifted before Yue Rongrong’s eyes as her tears fell uncontrollably. Shen Jichen stood there watching her, his eyes dark and unmoving.

Back then, young and proud, she would rather break than bend. But now... Yue Rongrong took a deep breath, turned, and gave Jin Tangsong a radiant, blossoming smile: "Then I thank you, Miss Jin."

Jin Tangsong was taken aback, blurting out inexplicably: "Yue Rongrong! How can you smile like that! Do you know that my cousin, he—" She abruptly cut herself off, eyes reddening as she stared warily at Yue Rongrong. "Did you come here because of him?"

Yue Rongrong turned away, coolly: "It has nothing to do with him. Don't worry."

Jin Tangsong looked at her with a complicated expression, unsure whether to feel relieved or upset.

"Does Miss Jin mean what she said?" Yue Rongrong suddenly turned back to ask.

"About what?" Jin Tangsong was momentarily caught off guard.

"That there will be a handsome reward if the work is done well."

"...Yes, just get to work!" Jin Tangsong rolled her eyes in frustration and turned to leave.

A handsome reward was all that mattered. Yue Rongrong took a deep breath, trying to expel the weight in her chest, but several attempts were blocked by a sour tightness. She smiled wearily and sat down on the embroidery stool. She truly needed the money—nothing else was important. Not important at all.

She worked meticulously, forgetting to eat or rest, not even touching the food brought by the household, drinking only water. It was as if she intended to finish the wedding gown that very day. Only when her eyes grew so sore she could barely keep them open did she realize it was already dusk...

Winter days darkened early. She packed up, intending to leave the Marquis’s residence before nightfall. As she reached the entrance, the sound of firm footsteps approached from outside. Her heart trembled, panic rising. She turned to retreat back into the room, but the door was suddenly pushed open. Her wrist was seized, and she was spun around, pressed against the door. Before she could cry out, cold lips crushed against hers, the cold from his cloak enveloping her. She shivered violently as his cloak fell to the ground.

Her eyes widened in shock, and in that brief moment of stunned hesitation, her lips were parted. The familiar, warm, wet sensation made her spine stiffen, and she struggled, pushing against him. Whether her resistance angered him or he had never intended to let her go, he gripped her chin, forcing her to look up, deepening the kiss.

The first time he kissed her, he had been fiercely jealous, pressing closer, his voice cold and intense.

"Who is he! How dare he hold your hand, how dare he brush the fallen petals from your hair?"

"Do you like him? Tell me, do you like him!"

Sixteen-year-old Yue Rongrong, proud and delighted by his possessiveness, deliberately provoked him: "Yes, I like him. All these years, he has always been the kindest to me."

That soft, light remark shattered his composed restraint. He roared: "I won't allow you to like him! Do you understand!"

His kiss was overwhelming, fierce and passionate, yet careful, as if afraid to hurt her.

"I missed you..."