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“You… you remembered, didn’t you?”
Hong Xiang broke into a cold sweat as she took the teapot from Pei Shang’s hands.
This tea… was no good.
She had personally seen the eldest young lady smile faintly as she sprinkled a packet of powder into it. At the time, she had been terrified, worried it might be a lethal poison, and had plucked up her courage to ask a question.
The eldest young lady—who, in the eyes of all the servants in the Pei household, was as kindhearted as a bodhisattva—merely cast her a light glance and said gently, “It’s merely to help fulfill the happy union of him and Miss Yu.”
That had put Hong Xiang’s heart at ease.
After all, everyone knew about the young master’s feelings for Miss Yu. Nothing too serious would happen.
But if that were so… why did this tea also need to be placed in Young Lord Xie’s (Xie Zhuoguang’s) neighboring guest room?
Hong Xiang watched Pei Shang’s staggering figure disappear into the distance, a look of confusion crossing her face.
Either way, the silver was in hand—no one would ever know about these matters.
Those two old fools—they’d lived to such an age already, so it wasn’t much of a waste.
A flash of ruthless resolve flickered in Hong Xiang’s eyes. To be absolutely safe, she decided to go all the way—dividing the already scant tea water equally into two portions, placing half in each of the two guest rooms.
Each room got exactly one bowlful. The tea, which had originally filled the pot to its neck, was now entirely gone.
“Who’s there!”
As she passed through the ornamental floral gate, Yan Yue heard rustling from the surrounding leaves even before reaching the guest rooms.
She had been following behind Yu Mingyao and instantly became alert, calling out loudly to the surroundings—but there wasn’t a shadow in sight.
Following Yan Yue’s shout, Yu Mingyao also pricked up her ears.
Her eagerness to meet Pei Shang, that soaring joy, made her dismiss the sounds after just a moment and refocus herself.
“Nothing—it might have just been a stray cat slipping in.”
She turned back with a soft smile to reassure Yan Yue.
Pei Shang had come to Lihua Courtyard three times at night—always deep into the quiet hours. The moonlight would shine on him, and occasionally, when the night was dark enough, she couldn’t see his face clearly.
Yu Mingyao had never asked Pei Shang how he got in—after all, the walls were high and he wasn’t the kind of martial artist who could scale roofs and walls.
Once, she had noticed a few blades of grass in his tousled hair.
Perhaps he was like those cats and dogs—always able to slip in from some unknown corner.
At the thought of Pei Shang, Yu Mingyao softened like the finest silk—her expression, her entire being seemed to radiate with gentle light.
Yan Yue, seeing her bashful and shy look, couldn’t help shaking her head.
No matter how beautiful or how coldly indifferent a woman claimed to be—once someone took root in her heart, it was like ice melting into clear water, leaving only ripples of affection.
Ah… passing through love’s trial is hard.
The footsteps faded into the distance.
A few moments later, under a tree where no one had noticed, a man’s hand stretched out and clawed at the air.
Pei Shang had no idea how he’d collapsed here.
His whole body was burning—an unbearable, strange heat rising from the base of his spine upward, as if he was about to explode. His mind was filled with images of Yao-meimei (Yu Mingyao) smiling and hooking her pinky with his, pulling him to fall onto her.
He was dizzy—at one moment giddy with joy, at another tormented enough to make his eyes flush red and his heart ache with frustration.
Finally, he managed to cling to something cool, which brought some relief.
At the base of a tree thick enough that two people were needed to encircle it, Pei Shang pressed his face against its broad roots and curled up like a shrimp—pitifully huddled there.
The waist-high white magnolias and banana trees around him conveniently concealed his figure completely.
Thus, when Yu Mingyao passed by him, she didn’t notice a thing.
“Yao-meimei… I need to find Yao-meimei…”
Half-conscious, Pei Shang seemed to hear her voice. Instinctively, like when he used to sneak into her chambers at night, he staggered off toward the familiar place.
The young maid withdrew. Xie Zhuoguang lingered outside the guest room, not stepping in.
This made it his second time coming to Lihua Courtyard.
Xie Zhuoguang had always had an excellent memory—nearly photographic.
Since that day he’d gone to the west wing to look for Pei Shang and had caught Pei Shang and Yu Mingyao embracing in a scandalously intimate manner—and later dined here at Lihua Courtyard—Xie Zhuoguang had memorized every detail of the courtyard’s layout.
It was silent on all sides. This spot was closer to where Yu Jinnian lived, and a bit farther from the west wing.
But all Xie Zhuoguang could hear was the pounding of his own heart, which felt like it would leap from his chest.
His head throbbed slightly. It was his first time drinking like this, and only one taut string of reason remained inside him.
Step by step, he moved slowly, as if being roasted by fire.
At this moment, he and she were so close.
He only needed to lift his hand slightly, and he would be able to touch her breath.
Dressed in a blue robe embroidered with cranes, Xie Zhuoguang’s face remained calm and indifferent. His unfocused gaze drifted toward the open-paneled guest room, and he slowly lifted his foot.
He entered the room and sat by the table.
Even in the empty guest room, his posture was upright. On the distant bed, the covers had been flung aside—clear signs that someone had lain there.
His vacant eyes didn’t even glance at it.
Sitting straight and solemn, his eyelids lowered, gazing into empty space.
His hand rested on the table. Beside it sat a simple green porcelain bowl, filled to the brim with tea.
He didn’t spare the tea a glance either.
“Yan Yue—you just wait here…”
As she crossed the courtyard and neared the guest rooms, Yu Mingyao halted, her eyes darting.
Her mosquito-sized whisper made Yan Yue sigh heavily inside and roll her eyes.
“Fine.”
Hearing the reply she wanted, Yu Mingyao’s cheeks flushed prettily with a trace of shyness.
Though she had seen much in life, meeting her lover in broad daylight like this was still a first. Even bold as she was, she felt a bit embarrassed.
Her ears burned red.
“Alright, alright, just go,” Yan Yue muttered behind her.
Yu Mingyao bit her lip shyly at that.
The joy of meeting her lover relentlessly battered the crumbling walls of propriety in her heart.
She was dressed to match Pei Shang today, wore the hairpin he’d gifted her, had just bathed, and was perfumed with crabapple blossom powder.
Utterly bewitching.
With such beauty radiating from her, why shouldn’t her beloved admire her more—love her more?
Her lips curled high, her eyes brimming with affection.
The guest room grew closer and closer—nearly within arm’s reach.
She unconsciously held her breath and lightened her steps.
Seeing the carved lattice panel a foot away, she suddenly realized:
There were two guest rooms here.
If this one was where Pei Shang was resting, then the next was Xie Zhuoguang’s.
At that realization, a sudden wave of regret rose in her heart.
She wanted to be intimate with Pei Shang—but she didn’t want Xie Zhuoguang to witness it easily or know how entangled they were.
She had always been like this—when she loved, she loved recklessly.
Like a raging fire.
Yet after all, they had been husband and wife.
Even if only she remembered what happened in their past life, Yu Mingyao still didn’t want Xie Zhuoguang to think too much.
She still felt a trace of pity for him.
If they couldn’t be husband and wife in this life, she still hoped he could live well.
So—please, all gods—let this room be Pei Shang’s!
Let it be as my brother said!
Yu Mingyao slowly pushed open the panel. She had dressed up so carefully today, ready to meet Pei Shang in a grand affair.
Please, no surprises—please let it be Pei Shang!
Creak—
The panel opened.
A young man in blue, with lowered eyes and silent demeanor, lifted his misty gaze to look at her.
In the quiet room, he was so still, like a sculpture.
When he looked up, his elegance carried a fragile quality that stirred sympathy.
“Pardon the intrusion.”
Yu Mingyao quickly lowered her eyes and turned to leave.
But as her gaze flickered, she caught sight of the large bowl of tea beside Xie Zhuoguang’s hand!
The teapot next to it was identical to the one that had decided her fate in her past life!
Damn it!
Without thinking, she rushed forward.
“This tea isn’t clean—you didn’t drink it, did you?”
Yu Mingyao was frantic.
Xie Zhuoguang’s usual misty, cool gaze still quietly fixed on her, silent.
“…”
Hot blood surged into her head.
Yu Mingyao raised her hand and shook the teapot—it was light as air. Peeking inside, it was bone dry!
Panic made her hands and feet fumble.
She grabbed Xie Zhuoguang’s collar and lowered her voice, almost begging:
“Xie Zhuoguang—did you drink it or not? Give me a clear answer! There’s… an aphrodisiac in here…”
Still, Xie Zhuoguang said nothing.
Yu Mingyao’s strength drained from her instantly.
She slowly released his collar, her entire body wilting like grass beaten down by frost.
What should she do?
Was she going to walk the same road again after reincarnating?
She refused to accept it!
Pei Shang—there was still Pei Shang…
That’s right!
Suddenly regaining some strength, Yu Mingyao straightened, her energy revived.
Her gaze swept over the messy bed nearby.
Without thinking, she lifted her skirts and bolted out like the wind.
Xie Zhuoguang slowly clenched his hand as he watched her leave.
Today… she was truly beautiful.
He had never seen her dress so meticulously—not even at her coming-of-age ceremony.
Today, anyone in the residence could see who she had dressed up for.
Women beautify themselves for those they love.
When he first met her, she was plain and indifferent to jewelry and fine clothes.
Now, she knew how to please another.
Only… that person wasn’t him.
A scorching jealousy, strong enough to burn him, surged from Xie Zhuoguang’s chest.
A wry smile curled his lips.
Flashes of Yu Mingyao just now—drawing close to him—flitted through his mind.
An off-white satin jacket paired with a bright red floral pleated skirt—Pei Shang’s favorite.
The hairpin was the very one Pei Shang had flaunted proudly before him earlier today—she had accepted it after all.
Just two or three hours ago, she had still been nestled in his arms, panting sweetly and seductively, soft enough to melt bones.
Back then, she had only her cool natural fragrance—not this alluring scented powder.
Dressed like this—what did she plan to do with Pei Shang?
Repeat what she had left unfinished with him?
Truly… she needed to be taught a lesson.
Xie Zhuoguang let out a cold snort, his mind crystal clear.
He lifted the tea bowl, parted his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank it all clean—not a drop left.
He knew she would come back.
Definitely.
Sure enough, moments later—thump, thump—hurried footsteps approached.
She ran in, slightly out of breath.
“Where’s Pei Shang? Did you see Pei Shang?”
At that moment, Xie Zhuoguang’s gaze deepened to an unfathomable darkness.
Every trace of his usual calm indifference vanished.
When Yu Mingyao met those cold, emotionless eyes, she shivered violently.
She backed away.
Too alike—far too alike!
In their past life, whenever Xie Zhuoguang lost control and no longer cared to restrain himself—this was exactly how he looked.
A person’s expression could lie—but not their eyes.
Her body began to tremble.
Her fingers interlocked nervously at her abdomen.
“You… you remembered, didn’t you?”
Her gaze drifted toward the now empty tea bowl.