Chapter 57 Olive Branch “Afraid it’ll grow cold if left waiting.”

Chapter 57: Showing Goodwill

She feared that if left unattended, it would grow cold.

Ever since Yue Rongrong departed yesterday, the Marquis’s countenance had remained grim. Wen Song was still pondering how to persuade Yue Rongrong to return when, early this morning, as he went to the flower hall to inspect breakfast, he suddenly froze. His eyes widened, he blinked hard, then rubbed them in disbelief, gazing at Yue Rongrong, who was arranging fresh flowers by the table. In that instant, the morning sunlight behind her seemed to form a halo.

Hui Yin approached from behind, chuckling, "Must you be so dramatic?"

Wen Song cheerfully stepped forward, "I thought I’d seen a fairy!"

Yue Rongrong, hearing him, lowered her gaze and smiled. Wen Song eagerly drew near, lowering his voice, "You’re no longer angry with the Marquis?"

"He’s an invalid; I won’t stoop to bickering with him," Yue Rongrong said, raising an eyebrow and pursing her lips.

Wen Song laughed heartily, "Indeed, Miss, your magnanimity is unmatched!"

"Ahem!" Gu Yu suddenly coughed urgently, then called out loudly, "Good morning, Marquis."

Wen Song closed his eyes as if facing a formidable foe, then turned with extreme obsequiousness to greet him, "Marquis, you’ve arrived."

Shen Jichen’s expression was dark, his gaze, unreadable, swept over Yue Rongrong’s innocent face before settling lightly on Wen Song’s head, "Are you implying I am petty? I pay your salary not for you to disparage me behind my back."

Wen Song bowed deeply, exclaiming, "This subordinate deserves death!"

Shen Jichen strode past him, his tone aloof and cold, "Since you acknowledge your error, go and receive your punishment."

Wen Song’s face fell, and he was about to withdraw when Yue Rongrong said airily, "Wen Song, go to the kitchen and bring the Marquis’s medicine."

Shen Jichen had already taken his seat at the head of the table and glanced at her, "He is my man."

Yue Rongrong blinked, "Oh," then turned to Wen Song, "Hurry along. As the Marquis’s man, you should be diligent. Don’t let him miss his daily medicine."

Wen Song covertly glanced at Shen Jichen, whose face was as hard as stone but remained silent. Feeling reprieved, he declared loudly, "Yes!"

The maids standing nearby mentally noted: it seemed the young lady’s intercession could avert punishment.

Ignoring Shen Jichen’s gloomy expression, Yue Rongrong sat beside him, served him a bowl of millet porridge, and offered it to him with a radiant smile.

Shen Jichen maintained a stern face, his voice tinged with an unnatural chill, "Did everything I said yesterday go in one ear and out the other?"

Yue Rongrong actually pondered for a moment before her eyes suddenly brightened, "Are you referring to yesterday when you told me to leave? This morning when I came, the gatekeepers didn’t stop me. I thought you were joking. If you were serious, you’ll need to give the order. The Marquis’s estate is yours; if you forbid me from coming, I won’t set foot here." Her voice was soft and gentle, yet carried a hint of barely concealed pique. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her clear, watery eyes stared fixedly at him.

It nearly overwhelmed him; he remained silent, his face cold.

A smile gradually spread across Yue Rongrong’s lips. She turned away, unable to suppress a radiant, rose-like grin.

After the meal, Shen Jichen went to his study to work. Yue Rongrong shadowed him closely. His expression remained cold and stern, but he did not stop her. Wen Song entered with the prepared medicine and handed it directly to Yue Rongrong, who presented it to Shen Jichen, "Take your medicine first."

Shen Jichen was reviewing testimony related to the private gunpowder case and did not look up, "Set it aside for now."

Yue Rongrong frowned, pressed down on the documents, leaned in, and looked at him sideways, "No, if it’s left aside, it’ll grow cold." Though she was speaking of the medicine, she inexplicably thought of their relationship—it, too, seemed like something that would grow cold if left untouched. She was like that bowl of traditional medicine, boiled into a concentrated bitter liquid that filled her heart and lungs with bitterness when swallowed.

A trace of that bitterness inadvertently revealed itself between her brows. Shen Jichen frowned, took the medicine bowl from her hand, and said stiffly, "Why the long face over a bowl of medicine?"

Yue Rongrong was taken aback for a moment, then beamed like a shining pearl, "How about this? Is it better?" She didn’t want things to grow cold between them.

Shen Jichen met her smiling face, his gaze pausing slightly. He ignored her and drank the medicine.

Yue Rongrong rested her chin on her hands and watched him, murmuring, "Get well soon, or you’ll turn into a medicine pot."

Shen Jichen’s fingers trembled slightly. Just as his stern expression was about to falter, he pointed expressionlessly to a nearby low table, "Go sit over there."

Yue Rongrong had no intention of disturbing his work and went obediently.

Shen Jichen’s deep gaze followed her movement, his expression softening slightly. Only when she sat down and looked over did he inconspicuously avert his eyes, not letting Yue Rongrong detect anything. When he lowered his eyes to review the testimony, he was momentarily distracted before refocusing.

He had always been like this—never vague when it came to serious matters. Back in Hangzhou, he was only eighteen, young and reckless, with an innate arrogance and noble air. His handsome features always carried a disdainful aloofness when looking at others, making people afraid to approach. Though he appeared every bit the proud, noble son, every time he returned from leading troops against bandits or pirates, he would bear some injury.

She felt both heartache and anger, "Why is it that He Minxuan and the other men always come back unscathed?"

"They stay behind."

"Can’t you stay back a little too?"

Shen Jichen raised an eyebrow with a touch of noble irreverence, "If I stay back, how can I win glory and build a career, strengthen myself, and protect you?"

Yue Rongrong wrinkled her nose, "Now it seems like no one in all of Hangzhou dares to provoke me."

His gaze deepened as he gently pinched her chin, "Not enough."

Back then, she didn’t understand the meaning behind those two words, because she thought he was just an ordinary nobleman’s son, aiming to bring honor to his ancestors. Now, reflecting, she seemed to understand a little: if he didn’t have his own power, he wouldn’t be able to act independently.

She looked up at Shen Jichen. His brow was filled with cold severity. She knew he was just working, and this mood had nothing to do with her, yet her heart quivered faintly. She was so afraid they could never go back.

Seeing him pick up his teacup, she immediately walked over and took it from his hand, "The tea’s gone cold; it’s not good for your stomach." She diligently poured a cup of warm tea, and Shen Jichen let her.

She thought she should clarify things with him, let him know how she felt, but anything she said felt like an excuse after the fact. She always felt somewhat guilty, afraid he would misunderstand. Hesitating for a moment, Wen Song walked in and gave her an ambiguous look, leaving her puzzled.

Wen Song said, "Marquis, Miss Meng is here."

Now Yue Rongrong understood what that "ambiguous look" meant. She stared blankly at Shen Jichen, who also glanced at her and frowned, "Go and wait behind the bookshelf." Lest she worry about connections with others again.

But to Yue Rongrong’s ears, this took on a different meaning. Did he now require her to avoid him when meeting Meng Jiayan? In the past, didn’t he always receive Meng Jiayan in the front hall? Why invite her to the study today? Anxious and uneasy, she found herself walking obediently behind the bookshelf.

Shen Jichen’s gaze darkened slightly as he had Wen Song usher her in.

The eighth day of the fifth month was the Dragon Mother’s birthday. The Grand Princess had entrusted Meng Jiayan with overseeing this year’s folk rituals at the Dragon King Temple, including erecting a golden statue of a true dragon, designed by Meng Jiayan herself. As the project neared completion, problems arose. Anxious about botching the Grand Princess’s task, she often came to seek Shen Jichen’s advice. She spread the blueprints before him, asking for guidance.

Shen Jichen handled it professionally, reviewing carefully. Their discussion went back and forth, clearly audible to Yue Rongrong behind the shelf. Shen Jichen was imposing and uniquely brilliant. Back in Hangzhou, aside from her, no girl dared to lift her head in his presence, let alone speak confidently before him.

Meng Jiayan was different. Though her words were humble in seeking advice, her speech radiated confidence. Yue Rongrong could sense Shen Jichen’s occasional admiration. She took a deep breath, her heart aching slightly.

They were a perfect match—talented man and beautiful woman, from equally prominent families. Meng Jiayan was favored by the Grand Princess, and Shen Jichen didn’t disdain her like he did other girls; perhaps he even liked her a little... At this thought, she annoyedly clenched her hand, accidentally applying too much force. The stacked books cascaded down, hitting her foot. It didn’t hurt much, but she let out a light gasp.

"What was that sound?" Meng Jiayan asked loudly.

She heard Shen Jichen’s calm reply, "It’s the cat."

Yue Rongrong angrily rushed out and shouted at him, "You’re the cat!" Then she ran off without looking back.

Meng Jiayan was stunned. She hadn’t expected Yue Rongrong to be there. Forcing a smile, she turned to Shen Jichen, "Is Miss Yue here too? Is she angry?"

Shen Jichen’s eyes half-lowered as he said in a low voice, "Don’t mind her."

Yue Rongrong, who had just reached the outer room, heard this and suddenly felt her eyes redden.

"Miss!"

Huiyin and Guyu’s urgent call reached the study. Meng Jiayan saw Shen Jichen’s brow furrow and asked, "Should we go after her?"

“No need.”

Seeing that Shen Jichen had no intention of chasing after her, Meng Jiayan smiled faintly and continued pointing with her writing brush on the design drawings: “I think this part…” she said, pausing, looking up, and noticing Shen Jichen frowning deeply, his sharp gaze distant.

She stopped speaking and did not remind him, simply watching him until he finally became aware and asked with a hint of urgency, “Is everything clear now?”

Meng Jiayan smiled charmingly, “Yes.”

Shen Jichen stood up almost immediately. “I have matters to attend to. Excuse me, my apologies.”

He strode away, impatient and entirely forgetting the etiquette of a nobleman hosting a guest, leaving Meng Jiayan in an awkward position.

Wen Song also felt awkward and tried to smooth things over: “The Marquis has some urgent matters to handle…”

Meng Jiayan said elegantly, “I understand. I’ve disturbed him today. Since the Marquis left in a hurry and didn’t have time to thank me, please convey my gratitude for me.”

Wen Song breathed a sigh of relief. Miss Meng truly was the model of a noble lady, second only to his own young mistress. If it were any other young lady, she would have run off red-eyed and angry.

Shen Jichen, recalling Yue Rongrong’s reddened eyes, quickened his pace. A faint pain came from his wound, but he ignored it. When he finally caught sight of Yue Rongrong not far outside the manor gates, his expression darkened abruptly.

She was being stopped by Commander Zhang, with a squad of estate soldiers behind him.

“Miss Yue, is it? The Grand Princess requests your presence.” Commander Zhang was burly, his broad shoulders twice as broad as Yue Rongrong’s. His gruff voice was steely, devoid of any warmth, full of authority.

Hui Yin and Gu Yu were already frightened, hiding behind Yue Rongrong and pursing their lips tightly.

Yue Rongrong looked at him warily, struggling to maintain her composure. “What does the Grand Princess want with me?” she asked.

Commander Zhang’s thick brows furrowed sharply. “How dare you! How dare you question the Grand Princess’s summons!”

Even though Yue Rongrong was trying to stay calm, the sudden cold shout made her spine stiffen with fear.

“Go back and tell the Grand Princess she will not go.”

A low, cold voice came from behind, neither loud nor soft, but carrying a bone-chilling coldness and undeniable authority, instantly suppressing Commander Zhang’s imposing manner.

Yue Rongrong turned around, her heart pounding, and saw Shen Jichen approaching steadily. His cold aura made it impossible to look directly at him. Commander Zhang almost immediately changed his expression, smiling ingratiatingly as he bowed his head. “Greetings, Marquis.”

Shen Jichen had already stepped in front of Yue Rongrong, shielding her completely. His eyes were frosty. “Hui Yin, escort the young lady back.”

Commander Zhang looked up anxiously. “Marquis, the Grand Princess ordered this officer to bring—”

“Was what I said just now not clear enough?” Shen Jichen’s voice was like ice, his slightly raised tone sharp and imposing. Commander Zhang bowed his head again, even lower than before, his broad shoulders trembling faintly for a moment. Unknowingly, the once confident young master had become so cold and intimidating, enough to send chills down one’s spine.

Commander Zhang repeatedly said, “Yes, yes, this official obeys.”

What was coming would still come. Yue Rongrong glanced uneasily at Shen Jichen, unsure of what he was thinking or planning, or what outcome awaited her. For now, she could only turn and leave.

Returning to Mr. Jimo’s “Cloud, Pine and Snow” courtyard, as soon as the gate opened, she saw Xue Yubai standing in the garden, giving her a slight smile.

Commander Zhang returned to the estate dejectedly to report. When the Grand Princess saw he had not brought Yue Rongrong back, her face turned cold as jade, she said coldly, and she was about to erupt in anger. But her furious eyes caught sight of Shen Jichen approaching steadily. During this time, the Duke was not in the estate, and she occasionally stayed in the princess’s manor. Now, seated in the hall, she suppressed her anger and coldly watched Shen Jichen enter. His demeanor was noble yet stern, carrying a trace of resolute finality.

The Grand Princess waved her hand, she commanded, dismissing all the palace maids and guards from the hall.