How unsophisticated. Sheng'an sneered inwardly, then caught another glimpse of Su Jing's radiant face and felt a prickle of unease.
"Let me be clear. From now on, if General Wu has anything to say, he can go through my maid Huashan directly. No need for you to play go-between. Remember your place—and don't covet what you could never deserve." Her tone was ice and contempt.
"Understood, Sister."
"But are you truly certain? If you have any doubts, you are free to refuse."
Su Jing lifted her head and looked Sheng'an straight in the eye. Something unreadable shifted behind her gaze.
This was the last chance she would give her.
If Sheng'an chose not to go, Su Jing would not force it.
She knew, better than anyone, the hell lurking beneath that envied match.
"What is that supposed to mean? What is wrong with General Wu? Why would I refuse? And even if I did, it's hardly as though you could take my place."
"Don't think that because you've pleased me today, you may forget what you are." Sheng'an's voice dropped to a whisper. The last two words were silent—only her lips moved. But Su Jing read them clearly.
Little mongrel.
Those words shattered the last sliver of kinship between them and dragged Su Jing back to the other life.
* * *
The imperial banquet. The garden.
"Sister, please—I'm begging you—tell Father to bring me back to the palace. I can't stay with Wu Qi any longer…" Su Jing knelt at Sheng'an's feet, white-faced, tears streaming.
"Get away from me. A woman of your blood married Wu Qi—what more do you want?" Sheng'an stared down at her with naked disgust, jealousy seething in her eyes.
"Sister, he keeps me prisoner. He chains me to the bed like an animal. I can't bear it anymore—if this goes on I'll die…" Su Jing rolled up her sleeve, exposing the livid, purple grooves cut into her wrist by shackles. The sight was grotesque.
Sheng'an recoiled, stumbling backward. When she collected herself, her voice only grew colder.
"You've no one to blame but yourself. A woman of your low birth—of course the General doesn't care for you. That's your fate. Who else will you blame?"
Sheng'an turned and walked away without a backward glance. After a few steps, she paused and looked over her shoulder, smiling.
"Little mongrel."
That word was the last straw. Su Jing crumpled to the ground, tears falling in silence.
Then strong arms circled her from behind and lifted her to her feet. She turned—and found herself staring at the one face she feared most.
"What was that you said just now, my princess? You want to go back to the palace? You don't want to be with me?" Wu Qi's voice was impossibly gentle. He was smiling. Her blood turned to ice.
* * *
"I'm sorry—I was wrong—I won't—" She shook her head frantically, but Wu Qi shoved her back against the rockery wall.
"It seems I haven't been good enough to you. You're actually thinking of leaving."
His fingers toyed with her earlobe. His body pressed close.
"Look over there. Who is that?"
He wrenched her head to the side.
"Oh—I remember now. Isn't that your old servant? Shen Yuan?"
Wu Qi laughed, low and cruel, his hot breath crawling across her neck.
"How about we let him watch exactly how I love you? Wouldn't that be fun?"
* * *
The memories of her first life tore loose from their vault and poured through her, one after another, relentless.
Su Jing held herself together long enough to bow to Sheng'an and take her leave. Then she stumbled back to her quarters, blank-eyed, and curled up on the bed without a word.
She had hidden the ugliest scars behind a careful wall, pretending they didn't exist. Most days she managed. But the moment something touched them, the pain didn't lessen—it doubled, tripled, an abyss with no bottom, dragging her under until she couldn't breathe.
Deep in the night, her body erupted in fever.
The palace doctor was still in bed when Shen Yuan hauled him out by the collar, barely allowing the man to find his shoes before marching him to the princess's chambers.
* * *
"The princess suffers from overwrought emotions and pent-up grief, compounded by a mild chill. That is why the fever runs so high." Dr. Li took her pulse and spoke with infuriating calm.
"Prescribe the medicine at once. I will prepare it myself." Shen Yuan's face, staring down at the flushed girl, could have been carved from ice.
The doctor felt the pressure radiating off him like a storm front, bowed hastily, and retreated to prepare the herbs.
Alone in the chamber, Shen Yuan dampened a cloth in warm water and pressed it to her forehead, again and again.
The fever painted her cheeks a deceptive pink. Her eyes were closed, quiet and still, as fragile as porcelain that would shatter at a touch.
Half-dreaming, Su Jing pried her eyes open. Everything was hazy. But he was there—right there, so close she could feel the warmth of his hand, his dark eyes filled with nothing but her.
A sharp ache bloomed in her chest. Something she couldn't name. Something unfair.
"Shen Yuan, I won't say I like you anymore. But can you please stop avoiding me?"
She clutched his sleeve. Her voice cracked, and a single tear slipped down her fever-flushed cheek.
Guilt seized Shen Yuan by the throat. He'd told himself it was for her own good, and all he'd done was make her cry. Make her ill. His hands clenched at his sides until the knuckles whitened.
* * *
"It was my fault. I swear I will never avoid you again." He wiped the tears from her face and raised his right hand in oath.
"Really? Then swear one more thing—that you will never leave me."
"I swear I will stay beside you, Your Highness, until the day you no longer need me."
"You said it! You have to keep your word!" A smile broke through the tears, bright as sun after rain.
"Mm." The corner of Shen Yuan's mouth curved.
So be it. He made his choice. He never wanted to make her sad again.
For as long as she still needed him, he would stay right where he was.
Even if it meant sinking into the mud and never coming back.
* * *
"The medicine is ready. Drink it while it's warm." Shen Yuan propped Su Jing up against the pillows and began feeding her, spoonful by careful spoonful.
"Ugh… it's so bitter." Her face scrunched into a wrinkled knot.
"It isn't bitter at all. I checked the prescription—there's no goldthread or anything harsh." He bent to stir the bowl, and when he lifted his head with the second spoonful, a pair of warm, feverish lips pressed against his mouth without warning.
Bitterness from the medicine. Sweetness from the girl.
"See? Bitter, isn't it?" Su Jing tilted her head, the picture of injured innocence, as if nothing had happened at all.
* * *
"Your Highness should finish the bowl in one go. I'll go check when the next dose is ready—" Shen Yuan shoved the medicine into her hands and made for the door.
Su Jing was not about to let him escape.
Time for the performance of a lifetime.
"Oh no—the room is spinning—" She let out a theatrical gasp and collapsed onto the bed.
Shen Yuan was forced to turn back, pressing his hand to her forehead to feel her temperature.
"The fever has come down. Does anything else hurt? I can fetch the doctor."
"Not yet. I'll drink the medicine. Just—stay with me. Please?" Su Jing, knowing when to press her advantage, picked up the bowl and drained it.
Shen Yuan nodded. He settled onto the low footstool beside the bed, motionless, keeping watch.
But sleep had abandoned Su Jing. She rolled onto her side and stared at him.
His mind was still on her lips—red, impossibly soft. Under her gaze, heat rushed up his neck and he ducked his head.
"Shen Yuan, why won't you look at me?"
"And why does Your Highness insist on looking at me?"
"Because I love you."
* * *
"Your Highness!!!" His face burned brighter.
"That doesn't break our deal. I said I wouldn't say I like you anymore. I never said I couldn't say I love you." She winked.
"Shen Yuan, I really, truly, hopelessly love you…"
He didn't answer. His head remained bowed, thoughts unreachable. After a long silence, he let out a quiet sigh.
"If Your Highness wishes me to be her… male concubine, I consent. Only, for the sake of your reputation, this must never reach a third pair of ears."
Without realizing it, inch by inch, he had lowered every boundary for her.
Servant, concubine—it didn't matter. As long as she still needed him, he would stay.
"Don't ever say that again!" Su Jing cut him off, cheeks puffed with indignation.
"I told you—I want to marry you. I will be your wife. You will be my husband. Not some concubine!"
"And what do I have with which to wed a princess?" A bitter smile crossed his face.
"Stop looking down on yourself. You are the kindest person I have ever known. The only person who could make me happy." She sat up and spoke each word distinctly, as though hammering nails.
He gave no answer, but Su Jing could feel it—the door to his heart had cracked open, just a sliver. That was enough.
* * *
"By the way—Princess Sheng'an's rash. That was your doing, wasn't it?"
"I have no idea what Your Highness means."
"Drop the act. I know it was you. She's been allergic to almonds since childhood. You ground them into powder and mixed it into the lotus-root starch she drinks every morning." Su Jing's lips curled.
"Does Your Highness have proof?" Shen Yuan's brow arched, his own smile surfacing.
"When you brought me tea that day, I caught the scent of almonds on your sleeve. Neither of us cares for almonds. The very next day Sheng'an broke out in a rash. Isn't that proof enough?"
"You're right. It was me. She ruined your gown. She deserved to pay."
"But, Brother Shen—I never told you what happened at the banquet." Su Jing leaned forward. "That means you have people inside the palace who report to you. People who can slip almond powder into a princess's bowl without anyone noticing. You still have the old Shen loyalists."
"Will Your Highness report me to His Majesty, then?"
Shen Yuan rested his chin on his palm, eyes dancing with quiet amusement as he looked at her.
"No. I want to be your accomplice."
"Come closer, Brother Shen." Su Jing beckoned from the edge of the bed, her voice dropping to a whisper.