Jiang Yue woke with a start and hurriedly turned back. Fortunately, Xiao Yunsheng, lying beside her, remained utterly defenseless and was still soundly asleep, fully satiated.
She caught a sharp whiff of the incense burner; it was significantly stronger than on other days. In mere moments, Jiang Yue’s head felt heavy and drowsy once more.
This incense was not right.
"Miss, you..."
Fu Rong clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled Jiang Yue directly out of bed.
Only once they were standing in the courtyard did her tightly coiled nerves begin to unravel, though her lips were still trembling.
"What are you afraid of? He won't be waking up for a while yet."
Jiang Yue could not help but glance back at the room. Sure enough, the figure within the bed curtains remained fast asleep, showing no signs of stirring.
Fu Rong lifted the sachet she wore daily and dangled it from her fingertips.
"This is a wonderful thing I took great pains to find. Look. You didn't even notice after I lit it for days, did you?"
No wonder that for the past few nights, when she had hurried to swap back with Fu Rong before dawn, even when she accidentally made a few sounds, Xiao Yunsheng had never been disturbed in the slightest.
Xiao Yunsheng had trained in martial arts since childhood and was a man forged in the fires of countless battles; his senses should have been razor-sharp. She had simply assumed that the nights had been too intense and that he was exhausted.
She had never imagined that the incense in the room could have such an effect.
Jiang Yue could not stop her heart from racing. Fu Rong had gone to such great lengths just to avoid sharing a bed.
She could not help but feel an added layer of dread toward her.
Recalling those shameful scenes from last night, wondering how much Fu Rong had witnessed, Jiang Yue felt a twisting pain in her stomach.
"Mother Su is away, and I was quite bored. I was genuinely curious about these long nights—beyond the intimacy, what else did you two do? What if you talked about something, or if 'Sheng-lang' shared some little secret with you that you deliberately kept from me? Wouldn't that put me in a very awkward position?"
Jiang Yue’s throat felt sour. The way the words "Sheng-lang" rolled off her tongue, so cloyingly sweet it was nauseating, made goosebumps rise on her skin, and she could not stop shivering.
"I called you here to remember this: tomorrow, when you bring breakfast, you must wake me up while Xiao Yunsheng is watching." Fu Rong paused, then leaned in close to Jiang Yue, her tone deepening. "If you ruin it, I will be very angry."
With that, she let out a yawn, took a leisurely step, and returned to her room.
She left a bewildered Jiang Yue standing where she was.
Dawn broke.
Jiang Yue got up and fetched breakfast from the small kitchen.
She happened upon Xiao Yunsheng just as he finished practicing with his spear; he was standing in the corridor, wiping sweat with a cloth.
From a distance, dressed in his bamboo-green everyday attire, he stood tall like a pine tree. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing long, lean hands; beneath his fair, clean skin, one could faintly see the outline of prominent blue veins.
It was strange—despite his daily practice in the wind and sun, he, unlike the other soldiers who were dark and weathered, remained fair and striking.
Perhaps because she had grown used to him, Jiang Yue realized she was not as afraid of him as before. Perhaps... if he didn't constantly wear such a cold expression, the common folk would never have spread such terrifying titles as "Living Yama" about him.
As soon as she approached, Xiao Yunsheng stopped his movements, alert, and turned around.
He peered down at her from his height.
Jiang Yue steadied her nerves, subconsciously touching her high collar.
She took two steps back, about to offer a bow.
She saw Xiao Yunsheng wave his hand dismissively.
"Spare it."
Jiang Yue froze, then heard him continue in a lukewarm tone.
"Unless you're going to drop the plates and waste food again."
Staring at the bowls and dishes in her hands, filled to the brim with various breakfast items, Jiang Yue blushed and hurried into the room as if fleeing.
She glanced at the tightly shut bed curtains, set down the tray, and stood before the bed. Recalling Fu Rong's instructions, she quietly turned her head to look at the figure still standing outside the room.
Biting her lip, she raised her voice:
"Miss, it is time to eat."
"Miss, after breakfast, we still need to accompany the Master to see Old Madame for your pulse check."
She called out twice, but the bed curtains remained deathly silent.
Jiang Yue did not know what Fu Rong was planning.
Just as she hesitated over whether to pull back the curtain, Xiao Yunsheng walked over and pulled it open himself, revealing the pale-faced person lying on the bed.
Hearing the commotion, Fu Rong opened her eyes as if startled from sleep, staring blankly at the two of them. "Husband..."
She propped herself up to sit, but the next moment she sank back down weakly, rubbing her brow with fatigue.
She was the very image of a frail beauty.
"What is wrong, Madame?"
"It is all your fault, Husband. Last night in the washroom, you were so... I think I caught a chill."
Fu Rong buried her face in the quilt, seemingly flushing with shame.
Every so often, she covered her mouth to cough lightly, her body as fragile as a willow swaying in the wind.
Remembering last night, Xiao Yunsheng’s gaze darkened. He swept a glance at Jiang Yue, who was still standing in the room, feeling somewhat ill at ease.
While a personal maid might handle every detail of her master’s life, it still felt inappropriate to bring up such private matters.
Fu Rong was dignified and shy by day, even avoiding something as simple as holding hands. He did not know if it was because she was sick today that she would say something so bold.
Jiang Yue watched Fu Rong coldly. If she hadn't been the one tangled with Xiao Yunsheng for half the night, still feeling the soreness and tightness in her body, she would never have doubted the sincerity of the shy anger on Fu Rong's face.
But if it was fake, this woman’s acting was far too realistic.
Knowing that Xingxing was being held hostage by someone so devious made Jiang Yue’s heart ache with worry.
She hurriedly turned away, using the excuse of pouring water to calm her panicked heart.
"Husband, I heard the imperial physician is coming to the manor today for the pulse check. I am afraid I might pass my illness to Grandmother. Could you... please have the physician come to our courtyard to check my pulse instead and prescribe some nourishing medicine? I truly want to give you a child as soon as possible."
Seeing her so thoughtful even while ill, her eyes filled with both affection and guilt, the strange feeling that had risen in Xiao Yunsheng vanished, and his tone softened considerably.
"What kind of trouble is that? You are ill; it is only right that the physician comes here."
He paused, reached out to take the water she had just poured, and fed her a few sips himself.
Jiang Yue listened quietly to their conversation. She stepped forward to take the cup, but in her focus on Fu Rong, her fingertips accidentally brushed Xiao Yunsheng’s hand. She saw his eyes sweep toward her.
"Take good care of your mistress. I will go ask for the physician myself."
"Yes."
She nodded in acknowledgement and watched Xiao Yunsheng hurry out of the courtyard. Hearing a low, indecipherable laugh behind her, Jiang Yue pulled back her gaze.
As she turned around, Fu Rong pulled a cloth from nowhere and wiped the powder she had used to appear pale off her face. There was not a trace of discomfort left.
"The Master seems very worried about you, Miss."
Seeing that she was indeed faking it, Jiang Yue sighed inwardly. She picked out a few breakfast items, divided them into small plates, and set them before her, unable to fathom the reason for this charade.
Fu Rong seemed pleased to hear that Xiao Yunsheng was worried, yet she snorted coldly.
"If he hadn't insisted that I go with him to see Old Madame for the pulse check today, I wouldn't have had to feign illness."
Jiang Yue paused, brought over a pot of jujube tea, and reminded her softly, "Once the Master brings the physician, you will still have to have your pulse checked."
Fu Rong remained calm and composed. She picked up a piece of donkey-hide gelatin, popped it into her mouth, nodded, and said indifferently:
"I will have my pulse checked, yes. But it won't be me."
Jiang Yue’s heart tightened.
Sure enough, Fu Rong climbed out of bed, stood before her, and looked her up and down.
"It will be you."