Chapter 22 Incident “Liang Shaoqing is here for Rongrong.”

Chapter 22: The Incident

Liang Shaoqing had arrived, seeking Rong Rong.

Amidst the silence, Shen Jichen abruptly rose. Han Zixian and the others were startled as they watched him stride out of the pavilion.

He Minxuan, in a fit of pique, turned his face away.

Yue Rongrong had been debating whether to approach and greet them—after all, they had once been close friends who played together and treated her well. Just as she hesitated, she saw Shen Jichen coming towards her. An almost imperceptible sigh of relief escaped her, followed by a moment of surprise as she realized she hadn't truly wanted to go over at all.

Her subtle relief did not escape Shen Jichen’s notice. His steps faltered slightly, and his expression darkened further. “Let’s go,” he commanded.

Yue Rongrong glanced towards the pavilion, then replied considerately, “If you have matters to attend to, I can return on my own…”

Shen Jichen fixed his gaze on her, his face grim, silent, and unyielding.

Yue Rongrong was slightly taken aback. He had been in a rather good mood when they arrived; what had happened now? Yet, she asked no further questions and obediently followed him away.

Her compliance only tightened the knot of frustration in Shen Jichen’s chest. He disliked her caution, her considerate nature—and, above all, her apparent indifference. Her calm composure irritated him even more. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” he demanded.

Yue Rongrong was startled at first, then paused to consider. What did he mean? Recalling their meeting with Master Jimo earlier, did he expect her gratitude? She had initially thought of thanking him but decided against it, reasoning that he was likely there on business and merely brought her along; a special thank-you might seem like she was trying to flatter herself.

But since he had asked, she couldn't help but genuinely say, with a touch of boldness, “Thank you for taking me to see Master Jimo today.”

The moment she finished speaking, Shen Jichen’s expression grew even darker. He didn’t utter another word to her until they reached the exterior of Jinxiu Lou. Yue Rongrong stepped down from the carriage, paused briefly, then turned to bid him farewell. Shen Jichen cast her a fleeting glance before instructing Wen Song to drive off.

Yue Rongrong mused inwardly that his temper had grown even worse than before. As she turned away, she bumped into Li Suian. The elegant and refined young gentleman greeted her with a polite bow before saying, “I heard Xiao Xi was unwell, so I came to check on her.”

“Is she feeling better?” she asked, as she held a favorable impression of Li Suian.

Li Suian replied amiably, “Much improved. Xiao Xi has always been well cared for, thanks to everyone. I am deeply grateful.” He bowed again.

Yue Rongrong returned the gesture with a graceful curtsy. “You flatter me, Young Master Li.”

Li Suian stepped aside to let her pass. Yue Rongrong nodded and entered. Only after she disappeared inside did Li Suian turn to leave.

No sooner had Yue Rongrong stepped into Yunjin Garden than Zhong Yu pulled her aside, brimming with excitement. “Has Zhen Xi changed? Today, when Li Suian visited, not only did she make no mention of severing ties—but she was actually quite affectionate toward him!”

Yue Rongrong was equally surprised. She glanced towards the window and asked, “How is she doing?”

“Much more spirited! She ate half a bowl of rice at noon and just enjoyed some pastries Li Suian brought. Do you think she’s had a change of heart? Has she chosen Li Suian?” Zhong Yu asked.

“If that’s truly the case, we should indeed say ‘Amitofo,’” Yue Rongrong replied with a light laugh—though inwardly, she remained unconvinced. Could Zhen Xi, who had been so resolute just days ago, really reverse her stance so easily?

Yet, as Zhong Yu had observed, after recovering from her illness, Zhen Xi never visited Young Master Luo again. Instead, she embroidered an auspicious peace pouch for Li Suian, met with him daily—sometimes bringing homemade pastries or dried fruits—and even declared she would drag Yue Rongrong and Zhong Yu to Wanfo Temple on the day of the imperial examinations to pray for Li Suian’s success.

Zhong Yu, relieved that Zhen Xi had finally come around, tugged her into the garden, teasing, “Ah—should we start preparing wedding gifts in advance? Once Li Suian passes the exams, he’ll surely come to propose, right?”

Zhen Xi blushed and feigned a swat. Zhong Yu ducked behind Yue Rongrong, shouting, “Rong Rong, stop her! The future Zhuangyuan’s wife is hitting people!”

“You’re still talking? I’ll stitch your mouth shut!” Zhen Xi stamped her foot, her cheeks flushed.

Seeing Zhen Xi genuinely happy, Yue Rongrong set aside her doubts and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Which part did Zhong Yu get wrong? Was it ‘future Zhuangyuan’ or ‘future Zhuangyuan’s wife’? Explain clearly—I’ll judge for myself.”

Zhong Yu burst into laughter behind Yue Rongrong, doubling over with mirth. Zhen Xi, exasperated, swatted at both of them.

Just then, a group of people rushed in, supporting Ren Hanzhen, urgently calling for a doctor.

Yue Rongrong and the other two were stunned. After exchanging glances, they hurried to the room and found Ren Hanzhen lying weakly in bed, her face pale.

“What happened?” Zhong Yu grabbed one of them and demanded.

The person replied, “We don’t know what occurred. She collapsed right after returning from Duke Zhenguo’s residence—before even stepping through the door.”

Another added, “I’ve noticed Han Zhen hasn’t been herself lately—more distracted, less enthusiastic about going to the duke’s residence.”

“Could she have made a mistake there?”

“How could that be? Han Zhen is always careful and gentle—she wouldn’t make mistakes.”

Du Yan shouted impatiently, “What are you all standing around for? Go fetch a doctor!”

The commotion lasted some time—even alarming the manager. After all, Ren Hanzhen had connections to Duke Zhenguo’s residence and was now Jinxiu Lou’s most favored embroiderer.

Cheng Qian and Master Zhou arrived one after another, standing in the courtyard without entering the room. The space grew crowded, and Yue Rongrong, feeling stifled, stepped outside for air. As she looked up, her eyes met Cheng Qian’s. She lowered her gaze, offered a slight bow, and departed. Cheng Qian’s expression darkened as he turned to speak with Master Zhou. Du Yan also stepped out.

Master Zhou couldn’t help mentioning recent rumors he’d heard. “I heard the cousin from Duke Zhenguo’s residence isn’t actually marrying Marquis Shen!”

“What?!” Du Yan exclaimed in disbelief—then sneered. “How could that be? The marquis himself accompanied Miss Jin to select embroiderers and personally mentioned tailoring wedding robes.”

Master Zhou frowned. “I don’t know why the marquis would say that, but reliable sources confirm he isn’t engaged at all. The duke’s residence has been flooded with marriage proposals. There are even rumors he’s waiting for the Meng family’s eldest daughter to return to the capital!”

Du Yan, struck by how confidently he spoke—and knowing his information was usually accurate—gasped. “The capital’s most noble young lady, Miss Meng?” Suddenly, she glanced back toward Ren Hanzhen’s room. Could it be that Han Zhen had fallen ill because her hopes of becoming a dowry maid had been dashed?

Though Ren Hanzhen had never voiced her ambition to serve as a dowry maid, Du Yan had long seen through her intentions.

The next morning, everyone except the ailing Ren Hanzhen gathered for breakfast in the hall when a young embroiderer approached Yue Rongrong. “Sister Rong Rong, a very handsome, noble-looking young gentleman is waiting outside for you. He says his surname is Liang.”

Du Yan froze, unable to conceal her shock. Her expression cycled rapidly through disbelief, dismay, and resentment. That Liang Shaoqing—so distant, so long forgotten—had actually come looking for her! And it was Yue Rongrong, that wretched girl! Why *her*? She’d already secured the Marquis Shen assignment—and now Liang Shaoqing sought her out too! Du Yan snorted coldly.

While the others wondered why Liang Shaoqing was seeking Yue Rongrong, she had already gone to the garden.

The weather had warmed, and Liang Yuanbian had shed his cloak. He stood there, arrogant and imposing. Yue Rongrong approached, stopping half a *zhang* away, and bowed with downcast eyes. “Greetings, Liang Shaoqing.”

Seeing Yue Rongrong again, Liang Yuanbian found her even more beautiful and captivating. He couldn’t resist stepping forward to help her rise. “There’s no need for such formality, Miss Rong Rong.”

Yue Rongrong retreated slightly as she straightened, avoiding his touch. She lifted her gaze with a faint smile. “What instructions does Liang Shaoqing have for me?”

Liang Yuanbian’s smile faltered. “Last time, you promised to mend a handkerchief for me. Have you forgotten?”

Yue Rongrong suddenly recalled—she *had* forgotten. She feigned surprise. “Has the young master not yet found a suitable embroiderer?”

“No one is more suitable than you,” Liang Yuanbian said, stepping closer. Yue Rongrong immediately stepped back. He continued, “This handkerchief was bestowed by the Noble Consort—as you know, she is my elder sister.”

He expected awe—after all, women of her station often sought social advancement. To his surprise, her eyes remained calm—and revealed even stronger reluctance.

“Please forgive me, but the handkerchief is too precious. I fear I am not up to the task.”

Liang Yuanbian frowned briefly—then realized: was this a game of hard-to-get? Many young women employed such tactics. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t indulge it—but seeing Yue Rongrong’s delicate charm, he patiently replied, “If you cannot do it, no one can. The manager has praised you repeatedly in my presence. Just focus on the mending—I’ll handle everything else. You needn’t worry.” As he spoke, he moved closer again, his final words dripping with suggestive meaning. Yue Rongrong retreated further—until her back pressed against the flowerbed, leaving her nowhere else to go.

With no other choice, Yue Rongrong lifted her gaze and spoke bluntly, “It is still not possible. I have other work and cannot delay it.”

Liang Yuanbian smiled dismissively. “Is that all? Just set those tasks aside. Say it’s for me—I doubt anyone would dare object.”

“I’m afraid she cannot set them aside,” a low, icy voice interrupted.

Both turned to see Shen Jichen standing beneath the corridor, his face dark and frosty, radiating his usual arrogance.