Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Door Left Ajar

The night was pitch-black. From within Xichun’s room came the soft rustling of clothing, mingled with the gentle panting of a young woman. The door slid open, and Xichun, now properly dressed, slipped quietly out into the courtyard and made her way silently toward Suyang’s quarters.

With nightfall, the daytime clamor faded into stillness. Just as her mistress had once done, Xichun pressed her ear carefully against the wall of the young master’s room, hoping to overhear something. But the silence inside left her somewhat disappointed. She remembered that there were a few private manuals in her mistress’s room, but since her mistress was already asleep, fetching them in the middle of the night risked waking her—how awkward that would be.

At this thought, Xichun could only sigh helplessly.

In other prominent families, when a young lady married, her personal maid would always accompany her as part of the dowry. Whenever the young lady’s monthly matters arrived, it was the maid who attended to the young master. Nowhere else was there a situation quite like her own.

It had been nearly a month since the wedding, yet the young master had never once touched his bride, nor herself...

“Who’s there?”

A shadow shifted in the corner. Xichun cried out in alarm just as the dark figure lunged straight at her, a cold gleam flashing in his hand.

“Help! Help me!” Xichun’s face went deathly pale. Her legs turned weak beneath her, but she gritted her teeth and broke into a stumbling run, her cries for help echoing through the night. The pursuer, apparently wounded, pressed one hand to his abdomen while brandishing a dagger with the other.

Perhaps afraid that Xichun’s cries would rouse the martial guards, the black-clad figure ignored his injuries and sped up. Danger was closing in; terror drained all color from Xichun’s once-composed face. She could feel the threat mere paces behind her—if the assailant so much as raised his hand, that dagger would surely cut into her flesh. Regret flooded her heart; had she known, she would never have come to eavesdrop by the young master’s wall. And now, her very life was at stake.

At the next turning, everything went black before her eyes as she plunged headlong into someone’s embrace, utterly terrified. Behind her, the whistle of the dagger sliced through the air.

A dull thud resounded. But the expected pain never came. Instead, there was a strangled scream and the sound of something heavy collapsing to the ground. Then, a long-missed voice spoke at her ear: “Xichun, what’s happening?”

Cradled in Suyang’s arms, Xichun finally realized what had happened. Lifting her head to meet his gaze, her heart did not calm but rather raced even faster. She quickly extricated herself from his embrace and stood properly to the side, clutching at her sleeve. “Young Master, that man tried to kill me.”

Only then did Suyang turn his eyes to the wretched figure on the ground. He asked, “Who are you?”

Xichun, still shaken, followed closely behind Suyang, her mind replaying the moment she’d thrown herself into his arms. His warm, broad chest had felt so reassuring. She could not understand why her mistress did not think well of the young master. In her eyes, he was already quite commendable.

Her mistress was indeed a rare beauty, but Suyang was not lacking either—learned, a scholar, and a martial artist of the ninth rank.

“A rebel, I suppose?” Suyang asked again as the figure on the ground remained silent. “I am but a common man and wish no involvement in such matters. Just tell me: are you a rebel? If you are, I won’t make things difficult—I’ll let you go. If not, then it’s nothing serious; I’ll fetch a doctor for you.”

“Thank you, I am with the Azure Sky Army—” The words were not yet finished when Suyang’s dagger plunged into the man’s heart. Suyang’s tone was tinged with resignation: “If you’re a rebel, I cannot let you go.”

Looking down at the corpse, eyes still wide with unspent words, Suyang could only sigh inwardly. It was the man’s own misfortune to have intruded upon the Wang family. If he were released tonight and later captured by the authorities, he would implicate the Wangs. No matter what the family had done, they would be drawn into the affair; silver would not be enough to settle it, and they might even be charged with treason. At best, it would end with beheading and the corpse discarded.

This matter had nothing to do with the Wang family.

Xichun, seeing the corpse at her feet, shrieked in terror. A broad hand drew her into a comforting embrace, steadying her fluttering heart.

Suyang felt the softness and warmth in his arms, his own blood still stirred by the encounter. The fragrance of the woman was intoxicating. Who would have thought that the dignified and reserved Xichun would one day seek solace in a man’s embrace?

“How are you feeling now?” Suyang asked gently.

“M-much better…” she stammered. “Thank you for saving my life, Young Master.”

She quickly withdrew from his arms, blushing and standing demurely to the side, head bowed.

“For saving your life, are you not planning to offer yourself to me in gratitude?”

“Ah?” Xichun’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of surprise. She looked up at Suyang, her eyes wide with astonishment. A fleeting hint of expectation flashed in her gaze, which Suyang caught keenly.

This maid was quite unlike her mistress—she bore him no ill will; in fact, she seemed to harbor some fondness for him. In this household, aside from his wife, whether it was his mother-in-law, sister-in-law, the maids, or the chambermaids, they were all exceptional… No, rather, they were all quite fine.

He could not let a single rotten apple spoil the whole barrel. He had a responsibility to this family—after all, in the days to come, they would all be his.

“Young Master, wouldn’t that break the rules? I wouldn’t dare…”

“Oh, you wouldn’t dare, but you do want to, isn’t that so?”

“No, that’s not—it’s not like that at all!”

“Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

“I… I couldn’t sleep, so I came out for a walk and happened to end up here…”

Xichun forced herself to lie, but Suyang had his own suspicions. Quietly, he said, “Well, since fate has brought us together tonight, why not settle this debt of gratitude now?”

“Young Master… please, we mustn’t…” Xichun’s face turned crimson. Her feudal, conservative upbringing made it impossible for her to accept such a thing, though her heart wavered. The rules she’d been taught since childhood forbade it.

“If you change your mind, leave your door unlocked for me tomorrow night. I’ll come to your courtyard. If you do not wish it, simply lock your door tight.”

“It’s late now; you should go back to sleep.”

With that, Xichun hurried off in small, flustered steps. Suyang returned to his courtyard, telling Peach Blossom and Plum Blossom that nothing serious had happened outside, but that there was something he needed to handle himself. He then dragged the rebel’s corpse out, disposing of it in a filthy ditch under cover of darkness—thus ending the matter.

Back home, feeling somewhat aroused by Xichun’s provocation, Suyang saw the gentle, pleading gaze of the delicate Plum Blossom on his bed and decided to let her off for the night.

…

Xichun returned to her room, her heart unable to settle. Again and again, heroic scenes from the past few days played through her mind, leaving her increasingly unsettled. If only she had agreed to the young master’s request just now, perhaps she would not feel so troubled.

But if she did, wouldn’t that break the rules? Yet, if she did not, how could she ever be with him?

That night, her mind was a tangled mess. The budding feelings of a young woman warred with the rules that had been etched into her bones since childhood, twisting and entangling within her.

In the end, emotion triumphed over all else.

Tomorrow, she would leave her door open for the young master. Rules or no rules—it was out of her hands now.