Chapter 7 – Meeting Again

“You’re that little maid from Guanxue Pavilion, aren’t you? How come you’re here?” Pei Hong’s peach blossom eyes blinked as his gaze landed on her.

“Brother, I brought Lichun over to deliver book covers. She’s very skillful—you should have a look later.” Pei Zhaoyin explained as she sent the maid beside her to fetch the medicine box.

“I see. Then you ought to thank her properly.” Pei Hong’s voice was gentle.

“Don’t worry, Brother. Since I like Lichun, I’ll naturally treat her well.”

Zhaoyin then brought out a brocade box, inside which lay two white jade hairpins inlaid with pearls.

The Marquis of Changping’s household was wealthy beyond compare, and even the casual rewards bestowed by the young masters were treasures an ordinary family would never see.

Xie Zhi immediately recognized the pins—their material was fine mutton-fat jade, and the green jade bead at the top was no common piece either.

After giving thanks, she was about to excuse herself when Pei Hong suddenly said:

“I just remembered, I need to head to the front courtyard. Let’s go together.”

…

A recent shower had swept away the lingering heat. Under the clear sky, a few orioles occasionally darted across.

Beneath the canopy of leafy trees, Xie Zhi tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and said softly:

“Fifth Young Master, Guanxue Pavilion is just ahead. This maid will take her leave.”

Receiving a single “Mm” from him, she held the small box tightly and stepped forward.

Just then, a gust of wind swept past, and she stumbled.

Clatter!

The brocade box fell to the ground.

Her face filled with alarm as she quickly crouched to pick it up. But before her sleeve brushed the jade pin, a large hand reached out first, lifting it from the ground.

“Don’t worry, it’s not broken.” Pei Hong’s voice sounded by her ear.

Standing again, Xie Zhi gazed at the recovered hairpin and said with relief:

“Thank goodness it’s unharmed. Otherwise, I could never repay such a loss.”

Lifting her eyes to him, she added gratefully: “Many thanks, Young Master.”

Pei Hong found himself staring, almost dazed, at the brightness in her gaze.

“Why so serious?” His expression softened. “Since Zhaoyin gave it to you, it’s yours now. Even if it did break, no one would blame you.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand, intending to tuck the pin into her hair.

Xie Zhi lowered her head with a compliant smile, appearing meek and gentle.

Men—always the same, beneath the surface.

She had thought hard the night before, and realized what Qingyi had said was not without merit.

But what she sought wasn’t riches—it was freedom.

If she could win Pei Hong’s favor and become his concubine, he would have to request her slave papers from Pei Du to formalize it. At that point, she could seize the chance to take them and escape the Pei household entirely.

Without those papers, she would always be an escaped slave if she fled—her life hanging by a thread.

Approaching Pei Du directly was near impossible. But Pei Hong… was different.

He was Pei Du’s brother; surely Pei Du wouldn’t strain their fraternal bond over a mere criminal’s daughter. To save trouble, he would likely hand the papers over.

Besides, Xie Zhi already knew that Pei Hong was notoriously indulgent in romance. With her looks, catching his eye shouldn’t be too difficult.

And unlike Pei Du, Pei Hong held little real power, and was constantly restrained by his parents. Even if she ran later, what could he really do?

Her plan seemed flawless.

…

Yet just as the pin was about to touch her hair, Pei Hong’s hand suddenly paused.

Perplexed, Xie Zhi looked up—only to see his gaze shift past her.

The next instant, his hand trembled, and the jade pin slipped from his fingers, shattering against the ground.

Her eyes widened at the broken pieces. This time, it really was ruined.

“Uncle, Third Brother—why are you here?”

Pei Hong’s face drained of color as he bowed hastily.

It was his uncle, Pei Ting’an—the master of the Pei family’s third branch—together with Pei Du.

Seeing Pei Hong’s embarrassed state, along with the scratches across his face, Pei Ting’an’s anger flared.

“You’re not young anymore, yet still so reckless! Your household’s women are already more numerous than your father’s, and still you flirt about. Look at your third brother, then look at you!”

With that, his hand flew up and struck Pei Hong across the face.

Pei Hong lowered his head, silent. Xie Zhi could only stand frozen, mortified.

So this was her chance to hook a man? And of all things, interrupted like this?

Luckily, Pei Du stepped in. “Third Uncle, Lord Li is already waiting in the front hall.”

At once, Pei Ting’an turned serious. He shot a final warning at Pei Hong:

“Until your face heals, you are not to show yourself again! And that woman you keep outside—you are not to see her anymore, understand?”

With that, he ordered servants to drag Pei Hong away, then rushed toward the front hall with Pei Du.

From start to finish, he never once looked at Xie Zhi.

At least she hadn’t been dragged into the scolding.

Only Pei Du’s fleeting, icy glance brushed over her—sharp enough to sting.

…

That night, Xie Zhi lit an oil lamp in her quarters, hurrying to remake the ruined drawings from her accident in the water.

Her art was different from the usual landscapes and portraits. She wove little stories and captured them through her brush.

Two months ago, when she casually showed Qingyi her sketches, Qingyi had passed them to her uncle who worked at Huizhen Pavilion. The man had thought them unique and introduced Xie Zhi to the owner, and since then, she’d been supplying illustrations for a modest fee.

Now she worked quickly, hoping to save up more money for her escape.

She was halfway through when a knock sounded.

Startled, she rubbed her sore wrist and went to the door.

It was Clerk Tong.

“Miss Lichun, the Fifth Young Master is here. He asks for you in relation to some books.” She glanced at the ink stains on Xie Zhi’s hands and added, “Perhaps you should wash up first?”

Xie Zhi checked the sand timer—it was already well into the night.

What trick is he up to now?

Unbothered, she tucked her hands into her sleeves, straightened her hair in the mirror, draped a pale robe over her shoulders, and dismissed the clerk to rest.

Then she made her way upstairs.

The Guanxue Pavilion was quiet, with only a few clerks and servants in residence.

Ascending to the second floor, she soon spotted him—Pei Hong—sitting by the desk, seemingly absorbed in a book beneath the lamplight.