Chapter 20: All Efforts in Vain

Fuan’s attitude clearly left Granny Chen, who had been busy all this time, somewhat deflated. She frowned, knowing it would do no good to persuade further. In her heart, she thought Fuan was already getting on in years; if she missed this opportunity, it might be too late to find a good match in the future.

Madam Han, too, was growing impatient, but she could not force the matter.

Shen Qingyun smiled and said, “How could one decide their life’s partner after a single meeting? Granny, you’re all being too hasty. Perhaps if Sister Fuan spends more time with him, she may change her mind.”

Kneeling on the ground, Fuan did not respond.

In her heart, no matter how good Wang Zhong was, he was still a servant; how could he compare to the Marquis himself?

Madam Han rubbed her forehead and sighed softly, “Let’s leave it for now. I’m tired.”

Granny Chen helped Madam Han away to rest, while Shen Qingyun returned to the Reed Pavilion.

As soon as she arrived, Pearl approached furtively, her face full of secrets. “Miss, Hanyu has returned.”

“Oh?” Shen Qingyun raised her brows, thinking the timing was curious. “And where is he?”

Pearl glanced around, her little face wrinkling like a bitter gourd. “I don’t know, miss. He appeared suddenly and then vanished just as quickly. I’ve spent ages searching and still couldn’t find where he’s hiding. Oh, but he did leave a whistle for you.”

Amused by Pearl’s antics, Shen Qingyun took the whistle for a closer look. It was made of jade, rather ordinary in quality, with nothing seemingly special about it.

She instructed Pearl to guard the door and blew the whistle, but it made barely a sound.

Yet, before long, Hanyu was kneeling before her.

Shen Qingyun stifled her surprise, the way he appeared and disappeared was simply unnerving. Calming herself, she asked, “Where’s your brother?”

Hanyu answered with deference, “My brother is still recovering from his injuries. I came ahead to protect you, miss.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “No need for the formalities. Just call me by name. Where were you hiding just now? Pearl looked everywhere and couldn’t find you.”

A faint smile touched Hanyu’s lips. “I wasn’t outside, miss. The jade whistle you hold resonates with the jade pendant I carry. That’s how I came so quickly.”

“I see.” She examined the whistle again, curiosity getting the better of her. “And where do you usually hide?”

“In the trees, among the bushes, on the roof beams, or even atop the roofs.”

“Is that so... Hanyu.”

“Yes, miss?”

“You are not allowed to spy on me while I bathe or change clothes.”

“Rest assured, miss!” Hanyu clasped his fists and bowed his head, but his ears and neck turned a deep, vivid red.

Shen Qingyun felt she’d been too suspicious, and coughed awkwardly to change the subject. “You’ve come at just the right time. I have something for you to do tonight.”

After some conversation, Hanyu vanished once more, hiding who knows where.

Shen Qingyun looked around curiously but saw nothing.

Outside the window, Hanyu watched her in silence. She wore a light pink gauze robe today, with a white skirt embroidered with golden peonies beneath. Her hair was adorned with emerald-inlaid hairpins and flowers, swaying gently with each of her movements, brushing against her fair neck. Her clear eyes brimmed with curiosity and disbelief.

He watched her like this, a smile unconsciously playing at his lips.

After searching for a while, Shen Qingyun gave up, thinking how wonderful it must be to know martial arts—pity she had no time to learn.

She found a red cord and hung the whistle on her wrist, tucking it beneath her clothing where it would be hidden.

Night deepened, and lights began to glow in the small cottage of the Eastern Courtyard.

Meanwhile, at the Warm Jade Pavilion, Fuan quietly slipped out of the courtyard.

She crept carefully along, avoiding notice, until she saw the lit cottage ahead. Her face brightened as she went to knock, but a sudden pain at her neck stole her consciousness away, and she fainted.

Inside the cottage, someone seemed to hear a faint sound. After a moment, the door creaked open cautiously and a low voice asked, “Who’s there?”

But the silent night gave no reply.

Frowning, he stepped out into the corridor—the candlelight illuminated a face mature yet still striking, none other than Shen Zhifeng.

Strange. Why hadn’t Fuan arrived yet tonight?

He closed the door, impatience growing, and finally lay down to rest.

Suddenly, a woman’s piercing scream split the night. The guards of the Marquis’s household hurried toward the source—it came from the direction of the stables.

Amid the woman’s cries, there was the rough laughter and questioning of a man, and the sound of heavy breathing, all the more jarring in the stillness of night. The guards frowned, pushing open the door.

There they saw a woman, her face flushed and streaked with tears, her expression twisted in pain.

Her clothing had been torn open, her chest exposed, her skirt in utter disarray.

At that moment, she was straddling a man in an intimate posture.

The man’s face was alight with excitement and confusion, but his hands never ceased their groping.

The debauched scene left everyone dumbstruck, but the guards did not close the door—they stood rooted to the spot, ogling the woman’s exposed skin with shameless abandon.

At last, someone whispered, “Isn’t that Fuan, the maid who serves Madam Han?”

The head guard was stunned, but managed to find a shred of clarity and barked, “Liu Shuan, what do you think you’re doing? How dare you molest a maid in the Marquis’s household!”

Liu Shuan, who worked at the stables, lived in the room next to them. He was ugly, with a large mole on his face and a constant smell of filth about him. Well into his thirties, he’d never found a wife and was known as an old bachelor.

He’d thought he was dreaming—sleeping soundly when a lovely woman, fragrant and soft, fell into his arms, writhing with a feverish body. Not caring to question it, he’d indulged himself.

Now, startled by the guard’s shout, he hurried to defend himself. “It’s not my fault! This maid came to seduce me in the middle of the night!”

No one believed him, but what made it worse was that Fuan clung to Liu Shuan, unable to get up, her agitated state leaving much to the imagination.

The young guards, seeing this, felt their throats dry with desire.

Could the maid really be so wanton?

Fuan bit her lip until it bled, regaining a sliver of clarity, and shouted harshly, “He dragged me here—help me!”

Some guards stepped forward to pull her away, taking the opportunity to grope her furtively.

Another guard quickly ran to Warm Jade Pavilion to report to Madam Han.

Fuan could not fathom what had happened, but the humiliation was so overwhelming she wished she were dead. Yet she could only watch as she was forced into intimacy with a filthy old man, and then subjected to the hands of the guards.

Now, they would have to inform the mistress.

It was over. Completely over.

No one could save her now.