Chapter 37 Cliffside “Yue Rongrong, you win.”

Chapter 37 The Cliff: Yue Rongrong, You Win.

The wind atop Luoxia Mountain was chilly yet invigorating. Yue Rongrong stood at the cliff's edge, her eyes closed, the wind's whisper growing clearer. She felt her hair and skirt tugging at her, and with them, Xue Yubai.

"I'll go for you," he said, gripping her wrist tightly through his sleeve, as if terrified she might leap on impulse. His resolve was so firm it seemed if she jumped, he would follow without a second thought.

Yue Rongrong's heart fluttered. She smiled brightly, "That won't do. If you go, what if Shen Jichen reneges afterward?"

Xue Yubai fell silent. Based on Shen Jichen's demeanor today, such an act was entirely plausible. Frowning deeply, he blurted out, "He hates you." Yet, his heart caught—he wanted to add, *he also loves you*.

They had grown up together; he understood Shen Jichen. Shen Jichen loved her, so he hated her. He didn't know what had transpired between them, and there was no time to delve into it now.

Yue Rongrong lowered her eyes and smiled faintly, "Yes, he hates me, and I hate him too. We're even."

Xue Yubai didn't question the sincerity of this "hate." He simply said, "Then I'll go down with you."

He had already dispatched men to secure ropes down the cliff and stationed others at the base to ensure Yue Rongrong's safety. Even so, he remained uneasy.

Han, He, and Zheng stood aside throughout. He Minxuan fumed, Zheng Xuchao watched with cold detachment, and only Han Zixian, thinking of his beloved wife, felt a pang of compassion. If anything befell Yue Rongrong today, his Yi Yi would surely grieve.

Unable to hold back, he stepped forward and said earnestly, "Rong Rong, just yield to Piao Yao and make peace. Let this matter be over."

Yue Rongrong knew he meant well but turned her head away defiantly. "I won't. What's between us isn't something an apology can fix."

Han Zixian frowned. "If you just yield, no matter how grave the issue, Piao Yao will let it go."

Yue Rongrong's heart wavered for a second, but she lowered her eyes, unmoved.

Xue Yubai, however, stared, stunned, at Han Zixian, his gut twisted in shock. Yue Rongrong had already pushed his hand away and was walking toward the cliff edge.

"Rong Rong!" Xue Yubai panicked and rushed forward to grab her again, but someone seized his arm tightly. He turned angrily—it was He Minxuan.

He Minxuan raged, "Are you truly going to cross Piao Yao for Yue Rongrong? Do you realize that if you go down with her today, Piao Yao will never forgive you!"

Xue Yubai's resolve was firm. "Let go."

Zheng Xuchao stepped forward and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "You don't understand what's between her and Piao Yao."

But Xue Yubai refused to listen to another word and was about to resort to force when Yue Rongrong turned to him, calling his name with a bright, reassuring smile. He froze in place.

Then he heard Yue Rongrong say, "I'll be fine."

*I'll be fine?* What did that mean? How could he not worry! Watching Yue Rongrong approach the cliff edge, he shouted desperately, "Rong Rong!"

Yue Rongrong ignored him, standing at the cliff edge and looking down. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she quickly jerked back, shutting her eyes tightly. Her whole body trembled—she realized she was a little scared of heights. Especially with the scuffling sounds behind her, her mind grew more chaotic, and her legs stiffened. She took two deep breaths, bent down, and prepared to make the leap.

Suddenly, a strong hand closed around her arm, yanking her back. The wind from below rushed up, and strands of hair brushed past her face. In a blur, she saw Shen Jichen—his icy face, the anxiety and complex emotions in his eyes that he couldn’t hide.

The sounds of struggle had died down at some point, likely when everyone saw Shen Jichen sprinting over and grabbing Yue Rongrong.

Watching her walk toward the cliff edge, the chill down Shen Jichen's spine hadn't yet faded. He gripped Yue Rongrong's arm so tightly—in his panic or fury—that it hurt her.

Yue Rongrong struggled to break his grip. "Let go! At this point, don't you dare go back on your word!" She struggled stubbornly, unaware that if she retreated another step, it would send her plummeting off the cliff.

Seeing her foot shift, Shen Jichen's heart lurched. He hauled her back fiercely, switching their positions so his back was to the cliff. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. His heart raced wildly, a stabbing pain in his chest. His face was tense, his jawline cold and rigid.

Everyone was stunned.

Yue Rongrong froze in his embrace. She felt the cliff wind brush past one ear, while the other heard Shen Jichen's ragged, fearful breaths. She didn't dare struggle further, her nose suddenly stinging.

Xue Yubai's heart sank. He instinctively took two steps forward but was stopped by Han Zixian's hand.

After what felt like an eternity, Shen Jichen released Yue Rongrong. She looked up at him.

He gazed at her intently, his voice low and strained. "Yue Rongrong, you win."

Those six simple words carved a deep hollow in Yue Rongrong's heart. Shen Jichen's red-rimmed eyes were full of anguish, his gaze growing increasingly cold as he looked at her.

"Shen..." Yue Rongrong's throat choked up; she couldn't speak.

Shen Jichen didn't look at her again. He brushed past her without a word and left.

He Minxuan was baffled. "After all this fuss, it just ends like this? What was that about?" He hurried after Shen Jichen.

Han Zixian looked at Zheng Xuchao, who smiled bitterly. "I saw it coming." He sighed deeply and followed them down the mountain.

In this contest, Yue Rongrong had ultimately won. Han Zixian glanced at Yue Rongrong, then turned to Xue Yubai. Without a word, he patted his shoulder reassuringly and descended as well.

Only Yue Rongrong and Xue Yubai remained on the mountaintop. Xue Yubai took a deep breath, pushing aside the gloom and ache in his heart, and walked toward Yue Rongrong. But then he saw her suddenly collapse to the ground. His heart clenched, and he rushed over to crouch beside her.

"Are you hurt?"

Yue Rongrong looked up, mustering a weak smile. Her voice was soft and weak. "No, my legs just went weak."

Xue Yubai relaxed and laughed. "You were so brave and determined earlier—I thought you were ready to meet your death. Turns out you were scared too."

Yue Rongrong said, "Of course I was scared. I don't want to die yet." After all, if she died, there would be no one left to care for Qu Lieshan.

Xue Yubai immediately understood her meaning. Incredulous, he asked, "So you were gambling? Betting that Piao Yao would cave?" Or was she just being stubborn, angry at Shen Jichen for being so heartless? But he would rather she had been betting on Shen Jichen's softness.

Yue Rongrong didn't answer. Regardless of what she had been gambling on, he was reeling. How dare she bet that Piao Yao would soften! Since childhood, once Piao Yao decided something, he never budged!

No—perhaps Piao Yao had been gambling too, only he was betting on her change of heart. That was why Piao Yao had said, "You win." That was why he had been in so much pain.

If Shen Jichen hadn't appeared, Yue Rongrong would rather jump than return to Shen Jichen and say, "I lost."

All just to stay in the capital, for Qu Lieshan! Shen Jichen felt his heart being torn to shreds. Remembering her earlier fearlessness in the face of death, he didn't dare push her further. He spent the night firing arrows in the marquis's estate until his arms could no longer lift, finally stopping.

＊＊

Yue Rongrong stayed safely in the capital, at Jinxiu Lou. But from then on, for over half a month, she never saw Shen Jichen again. The embroiderers in the tower, who had once looked down on her with scorn, gradually turned to sympathy—a kind of relieved, smug, almost gleeful sympathy.

"Rong Rong, those noble sons from powerful families are all the same. Especially someone like Marquis Shen. Consider yourself lucky to have been liked by him for a while. Live your life well from now on," one embroiderer comforted her, ending with a light laugh.

Zhong Yu shot her a fierce glare, then smiled. "Yes, it's better to have had something than to never have had it and ache from wanting."

The embroiderer pursed her lips and walked away.

But Du Yan never missed a chance to mock Yue Rongrong. "Some people thought they could fly up a branch and become a phoenix—forcing Zhen Xi to be a concubine, beating Master Zhou black and blue. Who knew retribution would come so fast? Han Zhen, do you know what this is called?"

Ren Hanzhen smiled slightly. "What?"

"Small people who get ahead only to fall flat on their faces." Du Yan cackled triumphantly, as if getting her long-awaited revenge!

Ren Hanzhen glanced at Yue Rongrong, who sat calmly in her seat, embroidering and ignoring their taunts. She had heard earlier that Marquis Shen wanted Yue Rongrong to leave the capital, yet these past few days she had still been here. It seemed Marquis Shen had softened. Ren Hanzhen pressed her lips together, afraid Yue Rongrong might "make a comeback." She thought she should quickly find a way to make her leave the tower, even leave the capital.

The peony itself is not at fault, but if it steals all the spring glory from the garden, then it is to blame.

The shopkeeper hadn't expected that a man's affection could come and go so swiftly. In such a short time, Yue Rongrong had already "lost favor." He came to the embroidery studio, glanced at Yue Rongrong, and felt genuinely regretful—after all, that was Marquis Shen! It seemed Yue Rongrong truly lacked fortune.

He sighed and turned to Ren Hanzhen, saying, "The Duke's household has sent word that Miss Jin's wedding is approaching. They fear there won't be enough embroiderers on the big day and have specifically requested we send two embroiderers to the Duke's mansion to be on standby. Han Zhen, since you've served Miss Jin before and know her well, you should go. Take one more person with you."

Ren Hanzhen remained unperturbed by honor or disgrace. She nodded in acceptance, then turned to Du Yan. Du Yan's eyes lit up immediately—naturally, she chose Du Yan.

Yue Rongrong was momentarily lost in thought. Lady Jin Tangsong was getting married. Recalling how Lady Jin Tangsong had once mentioned she wasn’t marrying Shen Jichen, Yue Rongrong felt somewhat bewildered.

Du Yan, mistaking her expression for disappointment, grew even more smug. "Truly, fortunes turn like a wheel," she thought.

Zhong Yu, unable to contain her anger, whispered to Yue Rongrong, "Look how pleased she is with herself."

Yue Rongrong smiled at her but said nothing. Getting assigned to the Duke's residence was indeed something to be proud of, especially on such a grand occasion as Lady Jin Tangsong's wedding day.

Du Yan thought to herself that if she were lucky enough to meet a noble young master that day, it would truly be her great fortune.

The wedding was set for the sixth day of the fourth month. By the end of the third month, Ren Hanzhen and Du Yan were already stationed at the Duke's residence as ordered.

That morning, as Ren Hanzhen and Du Yan stepped out, fully prepared, they saw Xue Yubai waiting in the courtyard—waiting for Yue Rongrong.

Du Yan, noting his impressive bearing, curled her lip and said, "Who knows what tricks Yue Rongrong used."

Ren Hanzhen smiled. "You're about to enter the Duke's residence. Broaden your horizons."

Du Yan suddenly laughed. "You're right. What use is a man like that if he's just a pretty face with nothing else?"

Though they weren't of noble birth, having worked at Jinxiu Tower for so long among aristocrats, they had developed high standards. Only high officials and nobles caught their eye; they dreamed only of marrying into prestigious families.

Xue Yubai was unaware of their conversation and didn't notice them. His eyes were fixed solely on Yue Rongrong approaching from afar.

Lately, he often visited her, always with an excuse—asking her to embroider a handkerchief for his grandmother or discussing art techniques with her. Only when talking about painting did her expression brighten, her eyes sparkling.

After returning from Luoxia Mountain that day, he had gone to see Zheng Xuchao. Zheng Xuchao told him that Yue Rongrong was the woman Piao Yao had married in Hangzhou years ago. At that time, Xue Yubai had been traveling extensively and had returned to the capital once. He noticed Piao Yao seemed like a different person—the once proud and flamboyant young man had become withdrawn and reserved. He had asked about it, but everyone remained silent, likely because Piao Yao’s resentment was so deep that he forbade any mention of it.

The two sat on the meditation couch in the room, both grave and silent. After a long while, Xue Yubai said, "So, Rong Rong has long let go of her feelings for Piao Yao?"

Zheng Xuchao looked at him for a moment before replying, "Whether she has or not, I don’t know. But I do know there’s absolutely no possibility between you and Yue Rongrong."

Xue Yubai also gazed at him, then after a while, smiled faintly and relaxed. "Who can predict how things turn out?"

As he prepared to leave, Zheng Xuchao stepped forward to stop him. "There are so many women in the world. Why does it have to be Yue Rongrong?"

Why indeed? Xue Yubai couldn’t figure it out either, but whenever he saw her with her eyes downcast, his heart felt gripped.

Since that day, Yue Rongrong had felt guilty toward Xue Yubai. She considered cutting ties with him, but every time Xue Yubai looked at her with sad eyes, she remembered his past sincerity and found it hard to be ruthless.

"You're here," Yue Rongrong said as she reached the pavilion, smiling with a bright smile.

Xue Yubai pointed to the lacquered box on the stone table. "I brought these for you. You’ll need them for Teacher’s birthday banquet tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Mr. Jimo’s birthday. Xue Yubai had invited her to attend the banquet with him. Yue Rongrong longed to see Mr. Jimo again. The thought of such a gathering, surely filled with many master artists, excited her. But remembering she had met Mr. Jimo previously with Shen Jichen made her nervous.

However, Xue Yubai said he had mentioned her to Mr. Jimo, who was delighted to invite her and even specially wrote her an invitation. Yue Rongrong, holding the invitation, was deeply honored and put all her worries out of mind.

She opened the lacquered box and was stunned. The two-tiered box contained a set of hair accessories on the top layer and a formal gown on the bottom.

Xue Yubai explained, "This set is not overly luxurious but bright and elegant—very suitable for you. Those literati are quite particular. Better to avoid unnecessary trouble."

Knowing he meant well, and seeing the outfit wasn’t too extravagant for her status, Yue Rongrong thanked him and accepted. Before leaving, Xue Yubai said he would pick her up tomorrow.

The next morning, Yue Rongrong rose early to dress. She had already asked for leave from the shopkeeper two days prior. Though the shopkeeper was vain, he wasn’t unreasonable. Thinking she must be heartbroken after recently losing favor, he readily agreed and even promised not to deduct her wages for the day.

Hearing she wouldn’t lose pay, Yue Rongrong got ready with extra energy that morning, which her roommate Zhang Jing saw in a different light.

Zhen Xi had left, and recently Ren Hanzhen had been on standby at the Duke's residence, so only she and Zhang Jing shared the room.

Zhang Jing sat at the dressing table, watching Yue Rongrong through the mirror. "Rong Rong, you have such a good mindset. Losing such a golden opportunity, and you’re fine so quickly—even have the leisure to attend a birthday banquet." She turned around curiously. "Is that Mr. Xue particularly close to you? Though Mr. Xue doesn’t have important family connections, he is handsome. Well, you’re not getting any younger, and you’re alone. It’s time to think about marriage. You’re nineteen this year, right?"

Yue Rongrong’s hand paused as she was doing her eyebrows. Xue Yubai was often away from the capital and seemed to have an elder brother, so few knew him. Even the shopkeeper was unaware of his identity, let alone the embroiderers. She knew Zhang Jing meant no harm—she was just straightforward. Not in the mood to explain Mr. Xue’s status, she nodded. "You’re right. It is time to consider it. By the way, didn’t your parents find you a match earlier? What happened?"

Zhang Jing immediately fell silent, her face paling. She turned away stiffly. "I didn’t like him. Besides, I’m in no hurry to marry."

It wasn’t that she didn’t like him—rather, he hadn’t liked her. Rumor had it Zhang Jing had been infatuated for a while, visiting repeatedly, only to be rejected. Yue Rongrong had heard this from Zhong Yu. Seeing Zhang Jing quiet down, she went along. "Yes, something as important as marriage shouldn’t be rushed."

Yue Rongrong took one last look in the mirror for a moment, then stood to bid farewell to Zhang Jing. Though they saw each other daily, Zhang Jing’s eyes still flashed with admiration. "Rong Rong, you’re truly beautiful."

Yue Rongrong looked down at her turquoise dress and smiled. "Thank you."

As she stepped out, she ran into Zhong Yu, who raised an impressed eyebrow. Yue Rongrong teased, "No need for compliments."

Zhong Yu scrunched her nose at her and snorted lightly, then said, "It seems Mr. Xue has some interest in you."

Yue Rongrong glanced at her. "He just doesn’t want me to embarrass myself at such an event."

Seeing she showed no shyness or ambiguity, Zhong Yu didn’t argue. "Alright, alright. Hurry along now. Don’t be late."

Xue Yubai was already waiting at the west gate of Jinxiu Tower. He could have waited in the carriage, but too eager to wait, he stood outside instead, tall and straight, watching the door. His attendant, Zihao, who had traveled with him, had never seen his master so attentive to a young woman.

The door opened, and Xue Yubai’s eyes lit up gradually until Yue Rongrong emerged, like the brightest star. He suddenly wondered if Rong Rong had appeared before Piao Yao like this three years ago—no, even more radiant, she would have run eagerly to Piao Yao, unlike her calm approach toward him now. He felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Mr. Xue? Mr. Xue?"

Xue Yubai snapped out of it. She stood before him, smiling warmly.

"What were you thinking?"

He said, "I was thinking, since we’re friends who’ve been through tough times together—albeit unsuccessfully—when will you stop calling me Mr. Xue? It feels so distant."

Not call him Mr. Xue? Then what? Yu... Yu... Yue Rongrong pondered inwardly, momentarily uncomfortable. Not only could she not say it aloud, but even thinking it felt strange.

Xue Yubai recalled how she might have once affectionately called Shen Jichen "Piao Yao." He couldn’t hide his disappointment but didn’t push it, smiling instead. "Let’s get in the carriage."

He extended his hand to help her, but she had already stepped up on the carriage step and climbed in directly. He looked at his hand hanging in the air, pulled it back awkwardly, and couldn’t help but think—if it were Piao Yao... Enough. He was increasingly hung up on Shen Piaoyao; his usual ease had disappeared.

Zihao, watching his master stare blankly at the footboard, suggested, "Should we throw this footboard away later?"

Xue Yubai gave him a side-eye, got into the carriage, and stepped up heavily.

Today’s banquet was held at A Taste of Jiangnan, which had gardens reserved for private aristocratic gatherings.

Though Mr. Jimo wasn’t a high noble, his reputation was extremely high. As the foremost painter of his time, everyone from royalty to commoners sought his acquaintance. For instance, many nobles longed to be invited to today’s event, but only Mr. Jimo’s close friends, his most accomplished students, and Shen Jichen were present.

When Yue Rongrong saw Shen Jichen, she halted abruptly. After more than half a month, he seemed different somehow—though his exceptionally handsome face remained the same. Sitting next to Mr. Jimo, his faint smile rivaled the beauty of spring.

Amid the lively conversation, he sat with a faint smile on his lips, but his eyes were cold and distant.

Xue Yubai noticed Yue Rongrong’s momentary freeze and wished he hadn't brought her. He had only thought to introduce her to his teacher, forgetting Piao Yao would also be on the guest list. Years ago, Mr. Jimo had first wanted to take Piao Yao as a disciple, but Piao Yao shouldered the responsibility of the Shen family. The late emperor and the Grand Empress Dowager valued him too highly to let him devote too much attention to painting and calligraphy. The emperor believed that as the future head of the Shen family, it was sufficient for Piao Yao to have moderate accomplishment in the arts.

For so many years, Piao Yao had always been a source of regret for the teacher; even his own standing in the teacher’s esteem could not compare to Piao Yao’s. He glanced at Yue Rongrong, fearing this “regret” might weigh heavily on her mind. An impulse surged within him—to sweep her away then and there, regardless of everything.

But someone had already noticed them.

“Yu Bai is here.”

Suddenly, everyone in the waterside pavilion turned toward them. Shen Jichen also lifted his gaze, his eyes lingering on Yue Rongrong’s face for a moment before shifting away. He looked at Xue Yubai and offered a faint, elegant smile—aloof and emotionless, as if Yue Rongrong were nothing more than a stranger.

Xue Yubai had no choice but to lead Yue Rongrong forward. When Mr. Jimo saw her, he immediately brightened: “Miss Rong Rong is here!”

The nearby guests were astonished, gazing at Yue Rongrong and exclaiming, “So this is the gifted young lady the master spoke of? So young!”

Yue Rongrong did not recognize anyone present, so Xue Yubai took the initiative to act as her guide, introducing her to each person with thoughtful care. Yue Rongrong followed his introductions, bowing respectfully to each.

The scene resembled newlyweds making their rounds. Wen Song, standing behind Shen Jichen, frowned slightly and glanced downward. Shen Jichen stared blankly into his teacup, betraying nothing.

After the introductions concluded, Yue Rongrong was about to pay her respects to Mr. Jimo when one of the scholars pointed out, “Yu Bai, you’ve missed someone.”

It was Shen Jichen.

Both Xue Yubai’s and Yue Rongrong’s expressions shifted subtly—but given the occasion, Xue Yubai had no choice but to lead Yue Rongrong toward Shen Jichen. Softly, he said, “Rong Rong, this is Marquis Shen.”

Yue Rongrong nodded awkwardly and performed a formal wànfú, though she kept her eyes lowered.

Shen Jichen finally looked at her—his gaze icy. He let out a short, humorless laugh and said indifferently, “No need for formalities.”

Mr. Jimo knew that Shen Jichen and Yue Rongrong were already acquainted and shared a history. He did not probe further into today’s display.

Yue Rongrong rose without glancing at Shen Jichen and turned to Mr. Jimo. She performed a formal bow, offered her congratulations, and presented her gift—a painting.

Mr. Jimo was deeply intrigued and hurriedly unfurled it.

He was stunned, his expression shifting from surprise to admiration: “Exquisite! Truly exquisite!”

Everyone crowded around to look. It was a painting of stones—strange and varied. At first glance, it appeared vivid and masterful, its grandeur unexpected from a young girl. Upon closer inspection, everyone gasped: hidden among the stones was the character for “longevity”!

“What brilliant conception!”

Yue Rongrong couldn’t suppress a smile, beaming with joy: “Thank you for your praise, esteemed seniors. Rong Rong merely presumes to display my humble work before masters.”

Shen Jichen’s deep gaze fell upon her proud face, a faint smile playing on his lips. She had always been like this—when it came to painting, she lit up like a child.

Xue Yubai was also proud. Though the praise belonged to Yue Rongrong, his heart swelled with pride—until he saw Shen Jichen. The honey in his heart instantly turned sour. He also caught a fleeting glimpse of pride and admiration in Shen Jichen’s eyes—and it chilled him.

During this time, Shen Jichen had acted as if nothing had happened, treating him as usual. Whenever they met, neither mentioned Yue Rongrong. He had assumed Shen Jichen had moved on—after all, as Marquis Shen, he could choose freely among noble ladies. There was no need to fixate on Yue Rongrong.

But now, he couldn’t fathom Shen Jichen. He didn’t know what he was thinking—or planning.

Just as he tried to read him better, Shen Jichen averted his gaze and began speaking with Mr. Jimo, not sparing a single glance toward Yue Rongrong.

Then someone suggested Yue Rongrong create a spontaneous painting capturing the essence of their banquet. Such impromptu artistic displays were common among scholars. Originally, another master was to paint, but the task fell to Yue Rongrong. She had already felt somewhat out of place sitting there—especially whenever she caught sight of Shen Jichen. Hearing the proposal, she agreed without hesitation.

Mr. Jimo glanced at Shen Jichen, then at Xue Yubai, and raised no objection.

Yue Rongrong painted with great seriousness and dedication, completely absorbed. Even when she looked up to observe the guests, she remained focused—though a few times, she thought she met Shen Jichen’s gaze, only to dismiss it as imagination.

She included everyone present in the painting—Xue Yubai, Shen Jichen, and all the others.

Once finished, an attendant brought the painting for everyone to admire. Again, praises filled the air. Only Mr. Jimo gazed at it for a long time, smiling quietly to himself, saying nothing.

Yue Rongrong excused herself to freshen up.

Back in the pavilion, someone laughed, “Sir, you’ve truly struck gold this time. Will you take her as your disciple?”

“Ah, but you’re mistaken! Why do you think Miss Rong Rong is here today?”

Someone tossed a meaningful glance, and everyone turned to look at Xue Yubai. He was flustered for a moment, then smiled and lowered his gaze—appearing both reserved and unable to conceal his pleasure.

Everyone laughed: “It seems they’ll be part of the family soon enough.”

Mr. Jimo merely smiled.

At that moment, Shen Jichen stood up. Everyone paused, noticing his cold expression as he gave a curt, dismissive nod. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

No one gave it much thought, and they continued drinking and chatting.

Yue Rongrong emerged from the washroom and passed by a pond. She paused at the edge, gazing at her reflection on the water’s surface, taking a few deep breaths. That day on Luoxia Mountain, the look Shen Jichen had given her at the end seemed laden with meaning. Now she understood—it was meant to let bygones be bygones.

Perhaps it was for the best. He would remain Marquis Shen, and she would continue as an embroideress. They would go their separate ways—never crossing paths again.

Suddenly, a “plop” sounded as a stone struck the pond, splashing water everywhere. Startled, she stepped back—only to feel a curtain shield her. When she regained her senses, she saw a broad sleeve blocking the water before her.

She looked up in astonishment. Shen Jichen stood beside her, his arm raised protectively. He shot a cold glare across the pond. As he lowered his arm, she saw two children on the opposite side, frozen in fear by his icy expression. They burst into tears and ran away.

Yue Rongrong turned to look at him, taking in his chiseled, stern jawline. She wanted to say, “You scared those children,” but then remembered they were now strangers. In the end, she only took a step back and said softly, “Thank you.”

Shen Jichen glanced at her lowered head and replied indifferently, “Hmm.” Without another word, he walked past her.

Yue Rongrong did not look back, feeling some of the tension ease in her heart as she hurried away.

She and Shen Jichen returned to the banquet at different times. Xue Yubai felt somewhat displeased but did not show it. After the banquet ended, he quickly bid farewell to Shen Jichen and left with Yue Rongrong.

Wen Song was greatly displeased and muttered, “That Mr. Xue seems afraid you might say even one more word to the young lady.”

Shen Jichen’s expression remained neutral, offering no comment. After seeing Mr. Jimo off, he headed toward his carriage. Before boarding, he saw Xue Yubai holding Yue Rongrong’s arm to help her into the carriage. Yue Rongrong’s steps were light and cheerful. Shen Jichen’s face darkened slightly; he averted his gaze and got into the carriage.

The carriage headed straight for the Ministry of Justice. Shen Jichen entered his study and did not emerge all afternoon. That evening, there was a small banquet at the Duke’s residence. Wen Song checked the time—if they didn’t leave soon, they would be late. He entered the study to urge him.

To his surprise, Shen Jichen remained unmoved and even unrolled another case file, saying coldly, “Go back and inform them that I am tied up with official business and cannot spare the time.”

Wen Song was stunned but replied, “The Grand Princess is hosting Madame Meng and Miss Meng at the residence tonight. She specifically asked you to attend. If you don’t go—”

“Enough,” Shen Jichen cut him off, his tone impatient.

Wen Song immediately fell silent and had no choice but to return to the Duke’s residence to deliver the message. Yet he felt uneasy. Miss Meng had only returned to the capital yesterday, and the Grand Princess was already hosting a banquet in her honor—making her importance clear. If the Marquis did not attend, the Grand Princess would surely be furious.

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Author’s note: Tonight, we see a composed Marquis Shen.