Chapter 5 Interrogation “My carriage isn’t for you to sleep in.”…

Chapter 5: Confrontation

"My carriage is not for your slumber."...

Amidst their entwined lips, Shen Jichen’s low sigh was a seductive whisper. In the dim room, Yue Rongrong’s heart fluttered, and she forgot to resist.

But Shen Jichen abruptly stiffened, releasing her and creating distance. His deep eyes, like ancient, bottomless wells, fixed on her with dark, complex intensity. Yue Rongrong’s heart hammered against her ribs. Flustered, she turned her face away as he leisurely bent to retrieve the cloak from the floor.

His voice, cold as snow, was slow and low: "My apologies, I mistook you for someone else."

Yue Rongrong’s pupils contracted sharply. Before she could mask her emotions, her glistening eyes fixed on him.

*Mistook her for someone else?* In this manor, who else could he possibly mistake her for? That tender, vulnerable "I miss you" was no longer meant for her. A long-dormant pain surged in her heart, like a blunt knife tearing and tormenting her relentlessly, regardless of her agony.

But indeed, he had mistaken her. They had shared countless intimate moments—she knew how he looked when he lost control. Now, his eyes held only stillness, fixed heavily upon her.

After a long silence, Yue Rongrong suddenly curved her lips into a faint smile and said lightly, "It’s alright."

Shen Jichen’s brow tightened sharply. She always managed to infuriate him with just a few careless words.

"I’ll take my leave." Almost before he could speak, Yue Rongrong turned to depart but collided with Wen Song outside the door.

Wen Song stammered: "Madam?!" The moment the word escaped, he hurriedly clapped a hand over his mouth.

Yue Rongrong ignored him and quickened her steps. Remembering Shen Jichen’s mistake, a surge of anger propelled her to turn back, stating coldly: "Don’t call me Madam. I am not."

As her words faded, a "clatter" of shattering echoed from inside the room. Wen Song looked toward the door in alarm.

Yue Rongrong turned and walked away without a backward glance.

Wen Song stood frozen for a moment before hurrying inside. There, he saw his master standing tall and slender, his face slightly pale, enveloped in a gloomy chill. Tea stains marked his hand, and shattered pieces of a teacup lay at his feet.

"Marquis..."

Shen Jichen cast him a sidelong glance: "Don’t call her Madam anymore. She ceased to be one long ago."

Wen Song shivered and bowed respectfully: "Yes." Noticing an indigo cloak on the nearby table, he looked up and said, "Madam—Miss Yue’s cloak was left here. I’ll take it to her."

"Halt."

Shen Jichen’s icy voice came from behind. Wen Song turned, weighing his words: "Marquis, it’s freezing outside. Madam—Miss Yue has always been delicate and can’t stand the cold..."

In the past, Miss Yue was so delicate that even the slightest chill would send her burrowing into the Marquis’s embrace.

"Prepare the carriage."

Wen Song thought he had misheard and stared perplexed at Shen Jichen: "What?"

Shen Jichen shot him a disdainful glance: "Did you not understand? Prepare the carriage."

Wen Song’s face lit up immediately: "Are we going to see Miss Yue off?"

Shen Jichen replied coldly: "To the palace."

"..."

Yue Rongrong dashed out of the manor before remembering she had left her cloak behind. Shivering in the cold wind, she huddled beside a stone lion, hugging her arms as she debated whether to go back for it. In her heart, she cursed Shen Jichen repeatedly, still unsatisfied, she added: *So young, and already his eyesight is failing! How could Jin Tangsong resemble me in any way!* she muttered.

Just as she was cursing under her breath, a luxurious carriage approached slowly from a distance. Still muttering, she watched as it came to a stop before her. Startled, she saw the curtain lift, revealing a chiseled jawline. She froze.

"Get in." Shen Jichen’s voice, colder than the biting wind, sounded low and authoritative.

Yue Rongrong’s temper flared. She straightened up from her huddled stance, assuming a defiant pose: "No need," she retorted.

With that, she made to leave.

Wen Song quickly jumped down, offering an ingratiating smile: "Miss, please get in. It’s bitterly cold—you might catch a chill."

Yue Rongrong reconsidered: "Then fetch my cloak for me."

"He is my man," replied coolly a voice from the carriage.

Frowning, Yue Rongrong looked up. The curtain was now fully drawn back, revealing Shen Jichen’s strikingly handsome yet aloof and unapproachable face. She sneered: "How dare I order the Marquis’s man around? I’ll fetch it myself," she snapped.

Shen Jichen’s brow furrowed, his tone stated impatiently: "I said, get in the carriage."

Yue Rongrong stubbornly refused. With Wen Song standing in her way back to the manor, she considered simply turning and leaving, she thought.

She was determined to oppose him! "Do you intend to freeze to death?" Shen Jichen’s voice was heavy with bit back anger.

Yue Rongrong raised an eyebrow: "Even if I freeze, it’s none of your concern!" Perhaps her tone was too childishly defiant, for both she and Shen Jichen froze momentarily.

The restrained anger in him turned to frost: "Your death from cold may mean nothing to me, but it would delay Jin Tangsong’s wedding gown," he said coldly.

Yue Rongrong’s heart pierced. She never imagined he could say something so heartless. *This cruel man!* She remembered clearly, she recalled, how Shen Jichen’s gaze used to hold a soft, gentle warmth even when she infuriated him—a mix of anger and helplessness, proud yet spirited.

Not like now, when he looked at her with indifference, as if she were a stranger—aloof, someone who meant nothing to him.

Pushing aside the ache in her heart, Yue Rongrong replied with forced casualness: "Just find another embroiderer. Jinxiu Tower has plenty willing to embroider for Miss Jin. Besides, would the Duke’s household lack a skilled embroiderer for their daughter’s wedding?" she said airily.

Her words carried a subtle hint of bitterness. Shen Jichen studied her intently for a long moment before propping his chin on his hand, his tone lazy: "But Jin Tangsong insists on you. I can’t bear to disappoint her."

Though she already knew Jin Tangsong had chosen her for the embroidery, she knew, hearing it from Shen Jichen still stabbed. He knew full well how she and Jin Tangsong had once been like fire and water!

Yue Rongrong turned her head as if pretending to check the road ahead, hiding the warmth of tears in her eyes. *What is there to cry about?* she told herself. *Once, she was his dearest cousin; now, she is his fiancée. What am I? A fake ex-wife, estranged and almost sworn to never cross paths again!*

She quickly composed her features. At this moment, she felt remarkably resigned. Turning, she stepped onto the carriage, one foot after another. Arguing with Shen Jichen was futile—why make things harder for herself? The walk back was long anyway, she reasoned.

Besides, she was truly cold. Falling ill would only delay her earnings.

Once inside, welcoming warmth washed over her. Wen Song hurried to the tea service beside the main seat, poured a cup of hot tea, and handed it to Yue Rongrong: "Miss, have some tea to warm up."

*Wen Song is still so attentive*, Yue Rongrong noted with a sigh. She accepted the cup, cradling it in her hands. Relieved that she hadn’t refused, Wen Song glanced at Shen Jichen. Seeing his calm expression, unaffected by the offer of tea, he sighed in relief and stepped out to give them privacy.

The warmth was soothing, the carriage spacious and steady, the rug beneath her soft and comfortable. Having worked all day, Yue Rongrong felt weary. She settled, intending to catch some rest, resolved to ignore him.

Shen Jichen watched Yue Rongrong’s turned back, he observed, his brow furrowed so tightly it could crush a fly.

Suddenly, the steady carriage gave an abrupt lurch. Yue Rongrong’s upper body was thrown forward, nearly hitting the carriage wall. But Shen Jichen was already beside her, his hand cushioning the impact between her forehead and the wall. Yue Rongrong’s head bumped into his palm, and she looked up abruptly.

Shen Jichen gazed down at her, his eyes deep and unreadable. Her heart skipped a beat as his icy voice broke the silence:

"My carriage is not for you to sleep in," he said sternly.

"..."

"When did you arrive in the capital?" He walked back to his seat. The carriage was spacious, and he asked casually. Only after speaking did he sit down, straighten his sleeves, and pick up his cup, glancing at her leisurely as if making small talk.

But Yue Rongrong’s heart tightened. Forcing herself to stay calm, she replied guardedly: "In the autumn of the second year of Yongning." Shen Jichen’s hand froze momentarily on the cup. He lifted his eyes slowly, their depths icy and impassive. So, she had come to the capital just a year after leaving him, he realized.

In truth, Yue Rongrong had lied—she had actually arrived in the capital in the spring of the second year of the Yongning era. When Shen Jichen suddenly brought this up, she grew nervous, only to hear him lower his voice, cold and low: "So, you’ve been in the capital for two years."

Yue Rongrong said, "Yes."

As she watched, Shen Jichen’s face darkened further: "Why did you give yourself the name Xin Yue?"

Yue Rongrong replied, "It sounds nice."

Shen Jichen looked at her, guessing she had taken this alias to escape her past. His face completely darkened: "Vulgar."

Yue Rongrong didn’t understand what he was angry about and smiled indifferently: "Of course it’s not good enough for the Marquis."

Shen Jichen’s eyes suddenly darkened; he hated her smile intensely, as if he were holding back extreme emotion. He turned his head away, and after a moment, his icy voice sounded again: "Why did you come to the capital?"

"What?"

Shen Jichen turned to fix his gaze on her, his cold eyes seemingly persistent. He asked again patiently: "Why did you come to the capital?"

Yue Rongrong was somewhat startled. His dark phoenix eyes stared at her as if waiting for some answer. Perhaps it was an illusion—her composure was average, and she couldn’t withstand such intense scrutiny. She looked away, tugged at the corner of her mouth, and let out a sighing laugh: "The capital is rich, dazzling, and prosperous. Naturally, I wanted to see it for myself. And when I saw that Brocade Tower offered good pay, I stayed."

Shen Jichen’s eyes suddenly darkened, his voice extremely cold: "Is it really that simple?"

Yue Rongrong acted innocent: "Otherwise?"

During the Zhou Dynasty, countless people flocked to the capital every year, and though only a quarter could settle down, such an explanation was beyond reproach.

The carriage fell dead silent! If not for the "snap" of a spark jumping from the stove, Yue Rongrong would have thought they were in an icy wasteland.

"We’ve arrived. Get out!" Shen Jichen seemed to have reached his limit, no longer able to restrain his anger, his tone extremely harsh.

Yue Rongrong was slightly stunned, anger welled up in her chest: "I never wanted to ride in your carriage in the first place!" With that, she stood up abruptly, pushed open the carriage door, nearly knocking Wen Song off the driver’s seat. Without waiting for Wen Song to bring the footstool, she jumped down and ran into the alley by Brocade Tower’s west entrance without looking back.

Wen Song was confused. He turned to look through the wide-open carriage door and immediately understood—she was upset with the Marquis again…

He suddenly felt a wave of relief. His Marquis was finally not acting as if the sky had fallen, impassive and cold!

After the carriage left, two good-looking young men emerged from the roadside, watching the carriage depart in disbelief.

He Minxuan asked, "Wasn’t that Shen Jichen’s carriage?"

Zheng Xuchao shot him a look: "Didn’t you see him sitting inside?"

He Minxuan widened his eyes: "He said he had no time today and was going back to his residence. What was he doing here? That’s the alley entrance to Brocade Tower, right? And I didn’t see Jin Tangsong with him either."

Zheng Xuchao pondered for a moment, tentatively suggesting: "Perhaps he came to pick up embroidery designs for Jin Tangsong?"

He Minxuan gave him a skeptical look: "...Do you believe that?"

"..."

Speaking of Jin Tangsong, He Minxuan asked him: "Have you prepared a wedding gift for Jin Tangsong?"

"Not yet," Zheng Xuchao replied somberly.

He Minxuan asked: "Why so suddenly preoccupied?"

"Just thinking of someone. I wonder how she would react if she found out Jin Tangsong is getting married."

He Minxuan paused for a moment, then immediately understood, frowning: "Why bring her up for no reason? Don’t mention her in front of Shen Jichen. Back then, it caused such an uproar—let’s hope she never shows up again." He even clasped his hands together and bowed toward the sky.

Author’s Note:

Shen Jichen: Why did you come to the capital?

Rong Rong: Because the capital is wealthy. [said mockingly]