Chapter 43: Turning the Tide

The Boneless Powder was indeed effective; after Han Yu had been carried away by Han Feng, he lay dazed for half the day before regaining his strength.

"Brother, you can walk now, can't you?" Han Yu's voice still trembled with weakness from the lingering effects.

Han Feng shot him a look and said gravely, "Xiao Yu, are you really planning to spend your life as a powerless shadow guard by the side of a young lady from the capital? And another thing—rid yourself of those thoughts you shouldn't have. Some people are simply not meant for you. Don't even think about it."

Han Yu looked up in shock, not expecting his brother to pierce straight through to the secret buried in his heart.

"Is it so obvious? You weren't like this before," Han Feng sighed, well aware of his younger brother's nature—cold, withdrawn, difficult to manage. In the past, he would never have protected a stranger, or even intervened if someone he knew was in danger.

"I've seen the way you look at her when you come to see me, the way you drift into a daze. And today, the way you looked at the young lady," Han Feng continued, his expression stern, each word a warning. "Serving as her shadow guards for a year is enough to repay our debt of gratitude. That is all."

Han Yu clenched his fists tightly, his voice muffled as he replied, "Brother, I understand."

Han Feng let out a long breath. If his brother truly set his mind to something, he could be unbearably stubborn. He hoped Han Yu would rein himself in before it was too late.

That night, Han Feng took over the watch outside the Reeds Courtyard.

The late hours were silent but for the occasional patrolling servant and the soft chirring of insects among the grass and trees.

A small, shadowy figure crept furtively outside the courtyard, clearly searching for a way in.

In the next moment, Han Feng seized the shadow and tossed it unceremoniously at Shen Qingyun's door.

Zhenzhu was on night duty. Hearing the dull thud at the entrance, she jumped in fright and hurried to open the door.

There, sprawled at the threshold, lay an unconscious maid, carelessly discarded. Han Feng stood to the side, his expression cold and severe. He spoke only when he saw Zhenzhu. "This maid was sneaking around. I caught her."

Zhenzhu glanced awkwardly at the maid, limbs splayed in every direction, thinking to herself that this man showed not a shred of pity.

Shen Qingyun, not yet asleep, was reading by candlelight. Upon hearing the commotion, she signaled for Han Feng to bring the person inside.

Zhenzhu, inspecting the maid now dumped at Shen Qingyun's feet, recognized her immediately in the lamplight—it was Hongyu.

"Zhenzhu, search her," Shen Qingyun ordered coldly, casting a frosty glance at Hongyu. She then turned to Han Feng. "Do not act on your own next time. If you discover anything unusual, report it to me first."

Han Feng was taken aback but nodded, realizing he'd acted rashly tonight.

"Miss, there's a bottle of powder on Hongyu," Zhenzhu announced, having found a small porcelain vial with no markings. Inside was a crimson powder. Uncertain of its nature, she dared not sniff or touch it carelessly.

"Han Feng, see if you can identify what's inside," Shen Qingyun instructed.

Han Feng took the vial, poured out a little powder, rubbed it between his fingers, and cautiously smelled it. Then, he applied some to the back of his hand. At first, nothing happened, but after a moment a faint itch began to spread.

"Miss, this isn't a potent poison. If it gets on the skin, it might cause itching or even a rash. But a simple remedy should clear it up in a few days."

Shen Qingyun nodded and gestured for Han Feng to withdraw.

In the dead of night, Hongyu was caught outside the Reeds Courtyard with such a vial—clearly up to no good.

With a cold, mirthless smile, Shen Qingyun picked up the hot tea at hand and poured it straight onto Hongyu's face.

The scalding splash jolted Hongyu awake. Her head throbbed, her face burned red and hot.

"Gag her," Shen Qingyun ordered. Zhenzhu promptly stuffed an entire handkerchief into Hongyu's mouth.

Already stinging, Hongyu's pain only intensified as her mouth was forced open, bringing her fully to her senses. She looked around in terror, muffled cries escaping her as she clutched her cheeks. Fortunately, the tea wasn't boiling; her face was just flushed.

"If you dare scream, I'll pour boiling water straight down your throat," Shen Qingyun said flatly, signaling for Zhenzhu to remove the gag, then speaking in a chilling tone. "Hongyu, since you’re here, I won’t waste words. Tell me—why did Shen Sisi send you?"

Zhenzhu, meanwhile, poured Shen Qingyun another cup of tea, steam curling from its surface. Hongyu trembled at the sight.

She knelt in a panic, biting her lip, unable to utter a word.

A slow, meaningful smile curved Shen Qingyun's lips.

Hongyu's eyes widened in terror, unable to meet Shen Qingyun's gaze, the invisible pressure forcing her to bow her head.

"Not talking? Then let me guess," Shen Qingyun leaned back against the cushions, lazily waving her silk fan. "You're quite familiar with the Reeds Courtyard. The place was always loosely managed, and you had an accomplice within. That powder must have been meant for me."

"Were you planning to make me break out in rashes these days, or sprinkle it on the dress I’ll wear to the birthday banquet?"

Shen Qingyun's voice was soft, but to Hongyu it sounded like a summons from hell.

Second Miss had guessed it all.

What now? Would she be sold off? Or executed in secret?

"Don't worry, I won’t harm you—yet." Sensing Hongyu’s fear, Shen Qingyun continued, "Do you know why Shen Sisi would do this? Is it just because she dislikes me, wants to steal the spotlight at the birthday banquet?"

"Hongyu, do you know why Shen Sisi values the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet so much? Let me tell you: she has no intention of marrying Jiang Lin. I’m curious—if she marries someone else, what will you do?"

Hongyu looked up at Shen Qingyun, her eyes a storm of confusion, terror, and hatred. As Shen Sisi’s chief maid, she had sensed for some time that her mistress had no interest in Young Master Jiang.

She herself truly adored Jiang Lin. She dreamed of becoming his concubine after entering the Marquis’s household, imagining intimate moments as if the two of them had been lovers in a previous life, those secret midnight meetings among red plum blossoms, flushed cheeks, and heated whispers haunting her dreams, filling her with both shame and longing.

Besides, she was already Jiang Lin’s woman.

If Shen Sisi didn't marry Jiang Lin, who would want her, a ruined maid? Not even a common servant would take her.

"Se... Second Miss, what do you want me to do?"

Steeling herself, she prostrated on the floor, begging Shen Qingyun for a way out.

"Zhenzhu, fetch some ointment for her face."

"Hongyu, rest assured—I will see that your wish is fulfilled."