25. Do Not Scheme Against Him

Chapter 25: Don't Scheme Against Him

The side room carried the faint, refined scent of storax incense.

Gu Yuanzhi's ankle was only slightly sprained. After the medicine was applied, the pain had eased quite a bit.

She reclined on the soft couch by the window, a book spread open on her lap, watching the bamboo shadows rustle outside, lost in thought.

A bowl of sweet soup sat on the low table beside her, sent over at Xu Hanyun's order. She wasn't hungry and only took a few sips before putting it down.

Hearing the door slide open, she snapped out of her reverie. Seeing who it was, Gu Yuanzhi's eyes narrowed slightly, and she began to pull her legs in and sit up straighter.

"Don't move." Xu Hanyun came closer, bending to tug the slipped blanket back up over her. "Is it still hurting?"

She shook her head. "It's much better already. Thank you for worrying about me, sir."

Xu Hanyun sat down beside her. "Yesterday on the pleasure boat, you seemed to have strong opinions about those paintings."

Gu Yuanzhi's heart gave a slight lurch at his words. She spoke slowly, "Though the paintings bear different signatures, a closer look shows they're all by the same hand."

Her eyes lit up. "If they really are all by one person, then this so-called charity auction is worth a closer look."

The Yangzhou canal had flooded often, damaging salt warehouses and cutting off shipping routes. So the court ordered the Salt Transport Office to handle disaster relief as well. The Salt Transport Office then had the merchant guilds hold a charity auction of paintings and calligraphy, with the proceeds going to the relief fund.

But if the paintings are falsely attributed to others, why would profit-hungry merchants rush to buy them? Behind the charitable front, there was probably a pipeline for under-the-table deals.

"Mm." Xu Hanyun nodded. "That moneylender, the rich Sun, is a distant cousin of the Southern Merchant Chief. This lead is important. I've already sent men to quietly look into the painters in the workshops."

Her mind raced with thoughts. She said softly, "I'd like to visit those workshops myself. Maybe I can help you, sir."

Xu Hanyun didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on her, quiet and searching. In the flickering lamplight, his eyes turned darker and harder to read.

Gu Yuanzhi's heart clenched. Her fingers twisted the hem of her dress, afraid he might suspect her.

Helping him was just a cover—her real goal was to uncover the secret dealings between the Salt Transport Office and the Eastern Palace.

This was also the key to clearing the unjust case and bringing her parents home. Yazhou had always been a place of miasma and sickness; she couldn't stand the thought of her parents staying there much longer.

His voice was slow and cold: "Don't you trust the investigating officials of the Censorate?"

Xu Hanyun had been sent as an imperial envoy, with record keepers and clerks in tow. Why would he need her to go poking around the chaotic streets herself?

Gu Yuanzhi's dark, bright eyes were clear, a hint of wounded charm flickering across her brow. She said, sounding hurt, "Don't you trust me, sir? All I want now is to do what little I can for you, to earn a bit of peace and stability for myself."

"Besides, as a woman, I draw a lot less attention than the officials you send out. If you don't trust me, sir, then pretend I never said anything."

With that, she turned her head away, wearing a look of hurt disappointment.

His expression stayed calm and gentle: "Since your foot is hurt, rest up. No need to trouble yourself."

Knowing he wouldn't give in so easily, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer, her voice soft and sweet: "Yes, I understand, Sir Xu."

She paused, then added, a little embarrassed, her voice low, "It's just that I'm out of ink in my room. Could I go out tomorrow to pick out some new inksticks myself?"

It was rare for her to take the initiative like this, and his irritation softened a bit. Xu Hanyun covered her hand with his palm, stroking it—her skin was smooth and fair, nice to the touch.

"What, the ones I got for you aren't to your liking?"

"No." Gu Yuanzhi shook her head. "What you got me is naturally the best. But each inkstick has a different glue scent and pine-soot finish. I'm used to a certain kind, and I'd like to check them out myself."

Xu Hanyun sighed inwardly and said softly, "Of course you can. I'll allow it."

Gu Yuanzhi was startled, not expecting him to actually agree. She then answered warmly, "Thank you for your kindness, sir."

"And how will you thank me?" His low, deep voice rumbled in his throat, his meaning unclear. Using her arms around his neck as leverage, he pressed her down beneath him.

She let out a soft gasp and fell back onto the pillow, trapped on the couch, their breaths mingling.

She smelled of fresh bath oils and flowers—sweet and alluring—and it stoked a smoldering fire in him, pressing against her softness.

"Sir, my foot is still hurt." A blush like a crabapple blossom crept to the tips of Gu Yuanzhi's ears. She lowered her lashes to avoid his deep gaze.

He buried his face in the hair at her neck and sighed. "Does Qing Yun know that when you lie, your eyes get very bright?"

"I haven't deceived you, sir..." But she couldn't keep the lie going. Gu Yuanzhi closed her eyes, bracing for his anger to break.

He tightened his arms around her. "I have important business tomorrow and can't go with you. I'll send two guards along. Do as you like."

Why did he still agree? She could not see through him.

She murmured, "Thank you, sir, for your understanding." She tried to shift her body away, but his arm pulled her back, easily stopping her.

In the ambiguous standoff, his gaze rippled softly as he bent down toward those two red lips. "It's late. Let's rest. Holding you will help us sleep more soundly."

"You should rest as well, sir." She turned her head aside to evade his breath, causing his lips to land on her snow-white cheek.

But he took the opportunity to gently nibble her earlobe, knowing well it was one of her sensitive spots, and employed every skill at his disposal. In an instant, her entire body went soft as water, her thoughts muddled, her two soft mounds rising and falling with her shallow breaths.

The moment Xu Hanyun caught the tie of her garment between his teeth, she suddenly grabbed the collar of his chest and pleaded pitifully, "I'm very tired today, and my foot is still hurt. Sir Xu, please, not like this..."

When she tried to push him away, her wrists were too weak to muster any strength. He caught her fingers, interlacing them with his own, and pressed her hands down onto the bed.

"This official has protected your family's lives and provided you with food and clothing—all of this I have done. As the exchange, should you not also fulfill your part?"

She fell silent, telling herself it was for her family's sake.

She let him untie the silk sash at her waist, his hand sliding beneath her skirt.

His fingers rose and fell, drawing out clear, sticky sounds. The slick dew he gathered with his fingertips, he smeared onto himself.

Gu Yuanzhi glanced sideways and blushed at the sight, wanting to close her legs, but he forced them apart with rough strength. Like a jade mountain toppling, he surged forward.

A spring boat riding the waves. His thrusts were fierce, squeezing every drop of her essence without reserve.

She raised her sleeve to stifle the moans in her throat, her vision swimming. Before her was his suppressed gaze and the taut muscles of his abdomen. In the pleasure he commanded, she retreated step by step.

Incense curled from the boshan censer, drifting apart like mist parting to reveal a stretch of her shimmering, watery eyes.

Her shapely legs rested on his shoulders, her delicate feet suspended high, trembling as they lightly tapped his broad back.

When his passion surged, he was fierce—as if punishing her for her deceptions.

Truly, she was not obedient at all. Had he not known her nature well, he too might have been fooled by her.

"This official does not like you scheming against him for the sake of others. Do not let it happen again."

Gu Yuanzhi arched her slender neck, her red lips releasing lilting syllables, no longer knowing how to respond.

Clouds veiled the crescent moon. The candle flame flickered, light and shadow rising and falling, casting two figures upon the wall—one moment distinct, the next intertwined.

Eventually they merged into a single shadow, entwined in each other's arms, drifting off to sleep.

In her dream, a steady drizzle fell.

Xu Hanyun carried her on his back, walking with steady steps through the twilight.

The road stretched on without end, time quietly slipping away.

Gu Yuanzhi lay against his back and asked where he was taking her.

He merely murmured, "Just follow me, and all will be well."

......

The largest painting shop in Yangzhou was known as Hanmo Studio.

The studio was spacious, lined with paintings of all kinds.

The young proprietor, Du Jingran, stood before a landscape painting, hands clasped behind his back, gazing intently.

He was about twenty, with clean-cut, refined features and an air of scholarly elegance.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned and saw a woman wearing a veiled hat, her graceful figure draped in a primrose-colored silk skirt.

He smiled warmly, clasping his hands in greeting. "Madam, are you looking for a painting?"

Gu Yuanzhi nodded in return. "I'm just browsing."

She browsed through the shop until she spotted a flower-and-bird painting, its brushwork strikingly similar to the one she'd seen auctioned on the pleasure boat.

As she studied it closely, Du Jingran came up beside her. "This painting has a certain untamed elegance. If you like it, I could tell you a bit about it."

Gu Yuanzhi's heart stirred, and she played along. "Then I'll take you up on that."

With the painting as their starting point, they struck up a casual conversation.

Du Jingran was well-versed in calligraphy and painting, and he spoke at length about brushwork and ink technique with ease.

Gu Yuanzhi, immersed in the arts since childhood, was no less insightful. Their back-and-forth made for a pleasant conversation.

When the moment seemed right, she offhandedly asked, "At the merchant guild's gathering on the boat a while back, were those paintings also from your shop?"

Du Jingran smiled. "Are you referring to those landscapes that sold for high prices?"

He lowered his voice. "To be honest, those paintings did go through my hands. But they weren't from our shop—I was entrusted with them."

"May I ask which master artist created them?" Gu Yuanzhi inquired.

"Unfortunately," Du Jingran said with a hint of regret, "the painter's name is Lan Qu. He injured his hand recently, and it's unlikely he'll ever hold a brush again."

Wasn't that the scholar who had inscribed a poem for her at the Qiancaotang Gathering? And when she heard Lan Qu's cries at the end of that gathering, could it be that Xu Hanyun had ruined his hand...

Her expression stiffened slightly, and she said awkwardly, "What a pity."

They continued to study the paintings together, one explaining in a gentle voice, the other listening intently, occasionally exchanging knowing smiles—an easy, harmonious atmosphere.

But suddenly, the mood froze. Gu Yuanzhi's gaze fixed on the doorway, and she forgot to respond to Du Jingran.

Standing at the door was a tall, imposing figure, robes embroidered with silver threads swaying, his bearing sharp and solitary like a lone bamboo in the snow.

Xu Hanyun's eyes were dark and unfathomable, resting quietly on her and Du Jingran.

Lost in the paintings, the distance between the two had unknowingly drawn closer.