Chapter 98 Neglect: “Hate me?”

Chapter 98: Cold Shoulder: "Do You Hate Me?"

Xian Qiu's convalescence was like retreating into a Buddhist monastery, completely erasing her traces from this household. To outsiders, she seemed shrewd—unable to contend with Tian Qin, she chose to avoid the sharp edge, perhaps waiting for the day she successfully conceives a son to turn the tables.

Xie Tanwei had initially been brazenly intimate with Tian Qin, but with Xian Qiu in seclusion, his behavior grew even more blatant. He stayed at the Painting Garden every few days, publicly holding Tian Qin's hand and embracing her in full view of the servants. Sometimes he would listen with a smile, joking and laughing, and Tian Qin had completely shed her identity as a younger sister, reduced to a lover—or more precisely, a private courtesan for him alone, utterly forgetting Xian Qiu's existence.

Yet even so, he had not formally taken her as a concubine.

Those familiar with the past understood tacitly: Tian Qin had once eloped with a man, leaving her tainted. She was fine for casual amusement, but not fit to enter the hallowed halls of the family, or she would become the root of misfortune.

As for Xie Tanwei himself, he had once offered his heart to her, lowered his dignity to invite her to spend her life with him, promising to abandon Xian Qiu—only to be ruthlessly rejected. Men hold grudges deeply, often spanning years. Now that Tian Qin was his caged bird, he was in no hurry, stingy with giving her a title.

The Painting Garden became their garden alone.

His invasion shattered the tranquil air among the bamboo groves.

Every night, Tian Qin was tormented to the brink of life and death, the warm, intimate atmosphere suffocating her.

Nanny Chen, Zhao Lu, and Wan Cui, as her trusted aides, watched their young lady suffer, forced to boil hot water and wait at her beck and call. Their hearts ached for her, but tears could not be shed, and grievances dared not be voiced.

Nanny Chen was especially conflicted. She had always believed Tian Qin to be a good girl, hoping she would succeed in escaping and pair up with her own nephew, Bo Ge, for a loving, respectful union.

But now, as a "mother-in-law," she was forced to watch her "daughter-in-law" serve another man, her heart seething like a blazing furnace. It seemed Bo Ge and Tian Qin were fated not to be together; Tian Qin could not escape the Lord's iron grip.

In the early morning, the morning star cast a dim, cold light. Withered leaves sighed in the bitter wind, the sky like a rolled-up sheet of ink-blue paper, pitch black and utterly still. Sparrows stiffened on the eaves, sleeping in silence.

Tian Qin was half-conscious, feeling a cold, soft touch land on her forehead—lighter than the morning star's glow—Xie Tanwei's lips. The time for court had arrived, and he had to leave.

She instinctively held her breath, then opened her clear eyes a moment later.

Xie Tanwei was slightly surprised, then smiled knowingly: "Did I wake you?"

Tian Qin replied, "No, I was just drowsy."

"Then let me hold you a little longer." Wearing his stiff, embroidered civil official court robes, he moved to pull her back into his arms.

Tian Qin quickly sat up, pulling the blanket aside, avoiding him with a guarded expression: "Don't fool around. You'll be late."

She fetched his cloak and draped it over him, checking every detail as he did for her when he tied hers. It seemed like care, but it was only to send him off sooner.

Xie Tanwei scrutinized her, someone who matched him in spirit, and said lightly, "Getting skilled at this?"

"No," she replied calmly. "Resigned."

Xie Tanwei chuckled.

Days passed in placid monotony. He trapped her, and she stayed within the cage, quietly waiting for the day he would let her go. Even flowers have their blooming season; his weariness would surely come sooner.

"Why do you seem so unwilling, as if I'm forcing you?" He tugged at her cheek, soft, applying a bit of pressure as punishment.

"Do you hate me?"

Tian Qin couldn't be bothered to argue; winning would bring no benefit. Now accustomed to numbness, she only sought safety, precisely avoiding all pain and disaster. Recalling her naive resoluteness the first time he forced her into bed, she felt foolish herself.

"No hate."

His court robes were neatly arranged, and she pushed and shoved him out of the bedroom, "Farewell, brother-in-law. Tian'er will be waiting for you at home."

Xie Tanwei sucked in a cold breath, not yet fully emerged from the warmth. The girl had learned to drive him away. Her perfectly respectful smile betrayed no crack; he found no foothold for reproach. He gave her a sharp glare, filing it away for later.

...

Xie Tanwei did not always visit the Painting Garden; he often summoned Tian Qin to Wu Wo Tong Chun, his residence. Tian Qin, from initial resistance and fear, gradually grew accustomed to it.

With Xian Qiu no longer interfering, in their days and nights together, Xie Tanwei's attitude softened increasingly—equal, respectful, considerate. He no longer exuded the domineering, dictatorial air of before. He would symbolically consult Tian Qin on matters, as if she were naturally his wife, the indispensable woman in his life.

He was inherently gentle, not overtly so, but now his gentleness knew no bounds, making one feel as if immersed in a drizzling mist.

Moreover, he was rare among men in his self-restraint. Though he had many close friends, he did not indulge in the pleasures of brothels and wine, nor had he ever had other women. In purely physical terms, Tian Qin could even be called his only one.

Tian Qin longed for him to frequent the pleasure quarters, so she could use it as an excuse to refuse intimacy. But he was single-mindedly focused on toying with her, terrifyingly so, depriving her even of that excuse.

That night, immersed in the warmth, they held each other in silence for a long time, both faces flushed, with an uncontrollable sweetness flowing between them. Love ran deep; their breaths, one deep and one shallow, pricked at heart and belly with dampness, reluctant to part.

Extreme harmony reached a point where both found pleasure. She did not flee step by step, nor did he press too hard. The force was just right, so comfortable that Tian Qin moaned, indulging, wanting to do it again.

They both forgot about the Love Gu, as if truly in love, rendering the Love Gu utterly unnecessary.

Xie Tanwei stroked her cheek, tender as spring, when a maid reported that Xian Qiu had suddenly fallen ill—head splitting, abdomen painfully twisted, breathing more out than in—pleading for the Lord to come see her.

Based on Xian Qiu's recent behavior, it was unlikely to be a feigned bid for attention. At a critical moment of illness, Xie Tanwei's presence was necessary; if Xian Qiu were truly on her deathbed, her last words should be heard by her husband.

The atmosphere was abruptly shattered.

Xie Tanwei's expression withdrew, warmth turning to cold. He pulled away from Tian Qin, his affection evaporating completely. He was a man who clearly distinguished between love and physical need; satisfying desire did not blur the lines of love. Now, his emotions settled back into place, his identity reasserted—he became the husband of the elder sister and the brother-in-law of the younger.

"Stay here for now."

He left with one sentence, offering no comfort to the still-aroused Tian Qin, dressing and departing.

Tian Qin's body suddenly felt empty.

It wasn't emotional dependence on him, but purely physical. The abrupt end of a kiss alone could cause discomfort, let alone the immersive union in bed.

It took some effort for Tian Qin to recover, her senses returning.

Enduring the soreness, she struggled to rise, gathering the scattered clothes and stiffly dressing. Since Xie Tanwei had left, there was no reason for her to stay.

Nanny Chen, Zhao Lu, and Wan Cui, who had been waiting outside, entered to help Tian Qin wash. The Lord had always been considerate of the young lady and had never left in the middle of things, let alone to go to Xian Qiu.

This revealed a bitter truth: Xian Qiu was the wife, Tian Qin the concubine—and without even a title. The wife naturally took precedence.

Nanny Chen looked at the marks on Tian Qin's body with pity, her emotions tangled. On one hand, she hoped the young lady would escape this cage soon and live a normal life; on the other, she hoped that within the cage, the young lady could find some stability—that the Lord would give her a child, so she wouldn't hang in limbo.

Tian Qin washed briefly and returned to the Painting Garden with Zhao Lu and the others.

The night wind was chilly, stepping through snow and ice. Withered branches shone with a dejected crescent moon; the world was silent. Watchmen saw and assumed Tian Qin had been discarded by the Lord in the dead of night like trash. A favored concubine suddenly falling from grace was fodder for household gossip.

It seemed the mistress was still the mistress; her status in the Lord's heart was unmatched.

Zhao Lu and Wan Cui were miserable, but Tian Qin didn't care much. Walking in the dead of night was a bit cold; she wrapped her cloak tighter. The minor displeasure from the cold would pass once she warmed herself by the fire back in her room.

From another perspective, a night stroll had its own elegance. The late winter moon was clear and cold; one was bathed in its light, thoroughly illuminated. The night mist looked like ribbons of silk—why fret over a man?

Nanny Chen cherished Tian Qin the most. Back in the room, she served her well, helping her rest, wanting to speak but holding back. She dared not urge the numb Tian Qin to escape. First, Tian Qin truly couldn't escape; being caught would bring even more terrible consequences. Second, could the young lady, accustomed to a life of luxury, survive outside the Xie residence? Could she really marry Bo Ge and endure a grimy kitchen? Would she be willing?

The night of the Painting Garden was filled with sighs.

Tian Qin was ignored for several days straight. Xie Tanwei did not summon her, and the grace that had showered her like spring rain seemed to have become yesterday's flower.

The reason was easy to explain: Xian Qiu was ill, so Xie Tanwei had to take care of her. It was said that the emperor in the palace had also fallen ill—ate something bad, broke out in red rashes all over. Xie Tanwei naturally had to lead the ministers to attend to him. Being busy, he had no time to pay attention to Tian Qin.

Another half month passed, and Tian Qin still hadn’t been summoned.

The people in the Painting Garden were unnerved: Had the Junior Mistress truly fallen out of favor this time?

Tian Qin remained unhurried, still sitting in her rattan chair, whiling away the days. Spring had arrived. The frozen lake cracked, a few spring breezes tinged the treetops green, more birds appeared, and the spring sunlight made one lazy, idling away the time.

She had long been hoping for this scene.

He had grown tired of her, and it was about to end.

With the lesson of the previous life, he probably felt a bit indebted to her and probably wouldn't deliberately hurt her when parting ways. The best outcome would be for him to give her some silver and send her out of the residence to fend for herself—from then on, bridges would be bridges, roads would be roads, their paths never crossing again.

This thought swirled in her mind.

Until several more days flew by, and Xie Tanwei still ignored her, as cold as in the previous life. Only then did Tian Qin gradually feel a sure sense of pleasant surprise—it was likely that Xie Tanwei had truly grown bored.

The surprise came too suddenly, too overwhelming.

Nanny Chen was undoubtedly the most worried about Tian Qin’s future. A woman like Tian Qin, who had lost her purity, would find it very difficult to survive outside. It would be better if she first lived at Bo Ge’s house. That boy Bo Ge listens to her and would treat Tian Qin well in every way. Nanny Chen herself could stay close to Tian Qin, making it convenient to care for her and ease her mind.

The willow trees sprouted tender leaves, shrouding everything in a light green that grew increasingly dense—the chill of winter vanished completely.

The sky was high and distant. Spring had arrived, and hope followed close behind.

Tian Qin began to pack her valuables, intentionally or not, to prepare for the possibility of being driven out. Nanny Chen tacitly understood and, along with Zhaolu and Wan Cui, kept an eye on the outside, inquiring about renting houses and buying plots of land—leaving the residence seemed within reach.

Would it end so anticlimactically?

That day, Tian Qin was painting, dipping her brush in light ink, while Wan Cui dozed on a rock. Suddenly, a servant who seemed in tune with nature came to deliver a message:

“Some new and interesting things have arrived. The Lord wants you to come take a look and pick out a few things you like.”

The shock came without warning—he was summoning her again.