Chapter 12 Bullying “Surely you played some hard-to-get trick…”

Chapter 12: Provocation

"You must be playing some hard-to-get trick..."

In a Flower-Swallowing, Wine-Reclining Pavilion in Jiangnan, the soft melodies of strings and pipes lingered. Han Zixian entered, hand-in-hand with his wife, Ye Shuyi. He Minxuan, noticing Ye Shuyi's radiant complexion, paused in surprise. "Why did you bring Yiyi out? Weren't you feeling unwell yesterday?"

Ye Shuyi leaned against Han Zixian's shoulder, smiling. "I'll just be sitting; it's fine."

Han Zixian shot He Minxuan an annoyed look. "Stop meddling with another man's wife."

He Minxuan irritably averted his gaze.

Zheng Xuchao chuckled. "Some people just can't let go, even now!"

A grape suddenly hit him on the head. He Minxuan glared fiercely, and the group burst into laughter. Han Zixian noticed Shen Jichen lounging casually against an armrest, a faint smile gracing his features. Surprised, he asked, "Piao Yao, I heard you've been looking at properties recently?"

Shen Jichen raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You've heard about that?"

"I happened to overhear a house broker bragging about serving Marquis Shen. He seemed quite proud."

The other two immediately stopped their banter and crowded around. He Minxuan asked eagerly, "What's going on, Piao Yao? Are you really house-hunting? Isn’t the estate bestowed by the emperor and your family properties enough?"

Shen Jichen replied calmly, "They are excessively spacious."

Zheng Xuchao said, "With dozens of maids, servants, and footmen living there, how is that too large?"

Shen Jichen explained, "I don’t need that many retainers. I’m looking for something refreshingly elegant—a smaller courtyard, just three or four retainers would suffice. It’s only temporary anyway. Later..." He trailed off, his gaze growing distant.

The others fell silent, puzzled. He Minxuan asked, "Are you trying to experience how commoners live?"

Zheng Xuchao frowned at the unusual softness in Shen Jichen's expression.

Han Zixian shook his head. "I doubt any property on Xuanwu Street exists that meets your requirements."

He Minxuan looked even more surprised. "You specifically want something on Xuanwu Street? Your marquis' estate is already there. What’s the point of finding another?"

Ye Shuyi secretly took a sip of Han Zixian's wine but was caught immediately. She giggled and handed it back, and Han Zixian promptly took the cup away.

He Minxuan’s attention shifted to Ye Shuyi, concerned for her, and the topic was dropped.

Shen Jichen lowered his gaze to his wine cup, swirled it gently, glanced at Ye Shuyi, drained the cup, and took his leave first.

After he left, Zheng Xuchao and Han Zixian’s expressions turned serious.

"Do you think it’s possible?" Zheng Xuchao asked.

Han Zixian chuckled. "If it’s related to Rong Rong, anything is possible." After a moment, he sighed softly, half-worried. "I just hope Piao Yao doesn’t lose his sanity again this time."

He Minxuan frowned but ultimately only sighed.

Han Zixian turned to his young wife. Ye Shuyi bit into a lotus seed pastry and smiled brightly. "This is delicious."

Han Zixian helplessly and dotingly pinched her cheek.

Ye Shuyi lowered her head to take another bite. She understood what Han Zixian meant, but back when Yue Rongrong loved Shen Jichen most, he had hurt her deeply. No matter what happened afterward, she couldn’t bring herself to persuade Yue Rongrong now—it would be too cruel. She could only pretend not to understand her husband’s hint for her to mediate.

＊＊

When Yue Rongrong returned to Brocade Court, only Zhang Jing was there. She asked, "Where’s Zhen Xi?"

Zhang Jing replied, "She left early today. The shopkeeper didn’t say anything and even mentioned it didn’t matter how late she returned. Her embroidery tasks were distributed to others."

Yue Rongrong frowned slightly and was about to seek out Zhong Yu for details when Ren Hanzhen returned. Seeing Yue Rongrong, Ren Hanzhen’s eyes flickered before she smiled. "Rong Rong, you’re back. I heard you went to the marquis’ estate too—why didn’t I see you?"

Though Ren Hanzhen smiled, her eyes held a trace of scrutiny. Yue Rongrong had no patience for games and simply said, "I was in a separate courtyard."

"Is that so... Did you see the marquis?" Ren Hanzhen asked casually, though a hint of tension flashed in her eyes.

Yue Rongrong said, "No."

Ren Hanzhen relaxed and smiled. During her days at the marquis’ estate, she had learned how deep those gates were, deep as the sea—unless the marquis wanted to see her, she had no chance of meeting him. Hearing that Yue Rongrong had gone again made her nervous, but now she felt somewhat reassured.

"I brought back some imperial pastries for you to try," she said warmly, opening a food box and beckoning Zhang Jing over. She then personally brought a plate to Yue Rongrong. "Rong Rong."

Zhang Jing exclaimed enviously, "Han Zhen, you’re so kind! Working at the marquis’ estate and even getting to taste imperial pastries—they’re delicious."

Ren Hanzhen smiled delicately. "I’m only fortunate thanks to Miss Jin. The marquis brought these from the palace for her—they’re her favorite. Ever since Miss Jin moved into the estate to work on her wedding attire, the marquis returns home right after his duties and even declines banquets. He truly holds Miss Jin dear." She looked meaningfully at Yue Rongrong, as if emphasizing how well Shen Jichen treated Jin Tangsong.

In truth, Yue Rongrong didn’t need to be told—she knew better than anyone how well Shen Jichen treated Jin Tangsong. Not long after they married, Jin Tangsong came to Hangzhou and stayed in a villa. That very night, a retainer came to inform Yue Rongrong that the young master wouldn’t be returning—he would stay with his cousin because she was afraid in an unfamiliar place, even though the villa was impregnably guarded.

Yue Rongrong took a deep breath, ignoring the piercing heartache, and smiled lightly. "Is that so?" She took a pastry, thanked Ren Hanzhen, and said, "I'll go find Zhong Yu."

Ren Hanzhen’s smile faded. She picked up a pastry and took a thoughtful bite. She had used this opportunity to subtly warn Yue Rongrong not to entertain any inappropriate ideas.

The next day, Ren Hanzhen left with Yue Rongrong. "Rong Rong, let’s work on embroidery together today—it’ll be more fun with company." Knowing Yue Rongrong was in another part of the estate made her uneasy.

Yue Rongrong said, "I’m afraid it wouldn’t be convenient. You’re working on Miss Jin’s wedding attire."

"Then what are you working on?" Ren Hanzhen asked, surprised.

Yue Rongrong smiled faintly. "The marquis’ shoes." With that, she entered the estate alone, unwilling to watch Ren Hanzhen’s pretentious boasting.

"The marquis’ shoes?" Ren Hanzhen froze instantly. Watching Yue Rongrong’s light steps, hatred surged within her, and a trace of malice flickered in her eyes.

Yue Rongrong paid no mind to whether Ren Hanzhen was angry—she only wanted to finish embroidering ten pairs of shoe tops and fragrance pouches quickly. While focused on her work, a sudden impulse kicked over her embroidery frame. A needle pricked across Yue Rongrong’s fingertip unexpectedly. She gasped in pain, clutching her finger, and looked up in shock and anger to meet Jin Tangsong’s furious gaze.

"What are you doing!" Yue Rongrong stood up abruptly, facing her.

Jin Tangsong’s eyes blazed with anger. "I should be asking you! Yue Rongrong, why do you always haunt us like a ghost? What do you want? You were the one who gave up on Cousin back then—you betrayed him! Why are you clinging to him now? How can you be so shameless!"

Each word felt like a knife stabbing Yue Rongrong’s heart. Her face hardened gradually. "You should ask your cousin what he wants!"

Jin Tangsong snapped, "It must be that you’re playing some trick of feigning indifference!"

Yue Rongrong sneered. "I don’t have time for that."

Jin Tangsong’s expression shifted slightly, her anger cooling. "So you mean you no longer have feelings for Cousin?"

Yue Rongrong replied stiffly, "That’s right."

"Your remaining in the capital has nothing to do with him?"

"No."

"You won’t cling to him anymore?"

"Of course not."

Suddenly, Jin Tangsong emitted a soft laugh, looking composed. Her gaze shifted slightly to behind Yue Rongrong. Puzzled, Yue Rongrong turned around—and froze. A handsome face was covered in frost. Her blood ran cold, and she stood rigidly still. Standing in the doorway, Shen Jichen’s heart thumped violently against his chest, each beat painful and throbbing. His gaze was like a knife, fixed on Yue Rongrong as if he wanted to tear her apart.