Chapter Fifteen: The Orange-Yellow Dudou

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“I’ll shut the doors and windows securely when I go. You don’t need to worry.”

Of course. A man like him—so upright and proper—would never stoop to undressing a woman himself.

Liu Fuying couldn’t make a move either. If she pushed too much, it would come across as deliberate.

It had taken her this long to ease his doubts about her identity—she couldn’t risk him suspecting she had ulterior motives.

“T-then I’ll trouble you, Lord Pei.”

Pei Zhouwu brought over a rack for her to hang her clothes on by the fire. He closed the windows and, after stepping out, firmly shut the door behind him as well.

Though the lamp inside the room cast only a dim glow, the shadows it threw were surprisingly sharp.

Liu Fuying slowly stood and walked to the rack, then raised her hands to peel off her wet garments. The outline of her collar slipping from her shoulders was clearly visible in silhouette.

When the cloth reached her waist, Pei Zhouwu stopped watching.

He turned his back. Only then did he realize his own robe was still hanging open.

As he reached up to fasten it, his gaze shifted toward the pool.

What on earth had happened to her? Why had she come all the way up here in the dead of night? And why had she suddenly fainted?

Just as he was about to retie his clothing, a loud crash came from inside.

He whirled around—and the figure that had just been standing there was gone. She must’ve collapsed, taking the rack down with her.

Then it hit him: the fire basin was sitting right next to the rack.

What if—

Without thinking further, he rushed back.

The moment he flung open the door, he saw her—tangled in the fallen rack, the fire basin tipped on its side, glowing embers scattered dangerously close to her arm.

Pei Zhouwu’s entire expression stiffened—and then he jerked away, turning his back again.

Because Liu Fuying… was only wearing an orange-yellow dudou.

She had collapsed on her side, her smooth bare back fully exposed to his line of sight.

Even the shadow he had seen through the paper window before had already felt like a huge disrespect to her. Now, one more look would be outright desecration of her dignity as a woman.

His heartbeat surged uncontrollably. He couldn’t hide the panic in his eyes.

Even back when they had shackled him in chains half a year ago, he hadn’t been this flustered.

“Miss Su—”

Just as he was about to apologize, he heard quiet sobs behind him.

Pei Zhouwu frowned. He thought she was crying because he’d seen her body.

“Miss Su, I didn’t mean to. Truly—”

Before he could finish, Liu Fuying’s choked voice interrupted him. The sorrow in her cries deepened his frown.

“I… I really have nowhere else to go…”

Pei Zhouwu’s lashes trembled. Instinctively, he wanted to turn and confirm what she’d said—but remembering her exposed state, he kept even his peripheral vision tightly reined in.

“I have nowhere to go…”

She repeated it, her voice shaking, sorrow clinging to every syllable.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have come to trouble you. I’m sorry, I…”

Her voice weakened as she spoke, like she was going to faint again at any moment.

Eventually, there was no sound at all.

Pei Zhouwu inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes and furrowing his brow.

At last, with a long sigh, he turned around.

He didn’t have improper thoughts about her—so he might as well face things with some composure.

The fire nearby had reddened the skin of her arm through the air alone. A round patch had gone pink, matching the flush on her nose from crying. She looked pitiful.

He approached and knelt, reaching out.

Her damp skin was cold to the touch, yet so soft that he dared not linger.

He gently lifted her and laid her flat on the bed.

Without looking further, he turned away to clean the mess. He picked up the rack and the fallen clothes, hung them up to dry, gathered the scattered embers, and silently continued tending the fire.

Liu Fuying stared at his back.

Everything that had just happened, of course, had been an act.

But she had acted it well—her eyes still red and brimming with tears, her appearance deeply pitiful.

She reached out and lightly tugged on the hem of Pei Zhouwu’s robe.

He paused, thinking she had something to say, and waited patiently.

But after a long time, she still didn’t speak—just kept holding on to the corner of his clothes.

The silence between them was delicate, yet something unseen and tender began to unfurl.

Pei Zhouwu didn’t dare move. If he pulled away too hard, she might not have the strength to hold on. He didn’t know whether he feared she’d lose her grip—or feared that he would lose control of the invisible string she’d latched onto inside his heart.

Eventually, that hand of hers lost strength and fell.

And at that moment, Pei Zhouwu’s heart twitched—as though the invisible string between them had snapped.

He glanced back slightly and said softly, “Miss Su, please rest.”

But Liu Fuying’s weak voice uttered just two words: “Don’t go.”

He could hear the fear in them.

“I’m afraid that when I wake up, I’ll find this was all a dream. That the deep pool on Mount Xiang doesn’t exist, that the bamboo hut doesn’t exist, and… that you don’t exist either.”

Pei Zhouwu’s brow furrowed deeper, still silent.

“I don’t know when it started,” she murmured, “but you’ve become my only salvation in the nightmare. Whenever I think of you, it feels like maybe I can make it through another day… like maybe the fear will be a little less.”

“You’ve saved me in more ways than one—not just my life.”

“But I’ve wronged you. Every time I come here saying I want to repay you, it’s really just an excuse. I’ve been using this place… using you… as a refuge. I’m sorry.”

Pei Zhouwu didn’t want to hear more. For some reason, every word from her mouth tugged at something raw inside him.

He turned his head just in time to see a tear slip from the corner of her eye.

He had seen women cry before—but never had he felt this kind of urge… to reach out and wipe their tears.

Maybe it was because he understood her pain all too well.

“Miss Yueying,” he said, using her alias softly, “you once advised me to take care of myself. Tonight, let me return those words to you. You were right—preserving the green hills is what matters most. I don’t know what you’ve gone through, and I won’t force you to say… but please, take care of yourself.”

“Take care…?” Liu Fuying’s tears fell faster, her sobs harder to contain.

“I don’t know how to take care of myself…”

Perhaps not wanting him to see her in such a miserable state, she rolled to face the wall.

Pei Zhouwu’s eye twitched and instinctively glanced back.

Even though it was brief, he still caught another glimpse of her bare back.

After crying for a while, Liu Fuying sniffled and added, “It’s not even that serious. I just haven’t eaten much these past two days. That’s probably why I fainted. Really, it’s nothing.”

Pei Zhouwu silently turned her soaked clothing over the fire, not responding.

It wasn’t nothing.

The issue wasn’t just whether she had fainted—it was why she hadn’t eaten for days.

Suddenly, she changed the subject.

“When I came, I set a trap in the woods. If we catch a rabbit or something tomorrow, let’s roast it together.”

Her abrupt cheerfulness made Pei Zhouwu uneasy.

“Tomorrow? Aren’t you going back to the prince’s estate?”