Chapter Thirty-One: If You Won't Eat, Then So Be It

Shen Nanyuan paused in her steps, then slowly turned around. Her eyes, under the cover of night, shone with a luminous darkness that, for a fleeting moment, left Jun Ci dazed; those almond-shaped eyes seemed to hold a sky full of stars. He lowered his gaze and coughed lightly before continuing, “The Second Prince has already taken notice of you. If you appear again, he will not let the matter rest. Should he uncover your identity—who knows what he might do.”

“The Second Prince’s ambitions run deep, his desire for the throne is plain to see. Now that General Shen enjoys His Majesty’s trust and favor, he may seek to solidify his own standing by allying himself with the Duke Protector’s household—he might even wish to marry you.”

His Adam’s apple moved ever so slightly, eyes turning inky black. “So it would be best if you avoid meeting the Second Prince again.”

This time, Shen Nanyuan could sense the sincerity in his words.

“I understand,” she nodded gently. “Thank you, Young Master Jun. You should return soon, the curfew is near.”

With that, she offered a slight, grateful smile, then turned to walk toward the Duke Protector’s residence. For reasons she could not quite explain, the guard at her side seemed to regard Jun Ci with a hint of hostility.

Jun Ci remained where he was, watching her figure recede into the distance, a vague, unnameable melancholy stirring within him.

By now, curfew drew near; the streets were utterly deserted.

He turned away slowly, took a few steps, and an almost mocking smile tugged at his lips.

He was mocking himself.

He knew the reason for his melancholy: it was simply that those eyes, which had always looked to him, would no longer meet his own. He was unaccustomed to it.

Thinking thus, he realized he was truly inadequate.

So, her turning away from him was only natural.

They had grown up together since childhood.

If, back then… if he had truly confessed his feelings as Liu Yuli had urged him, perhaps their relationship would not be so distant now.

But there are no ifs in this life.

Jun Ci lowered his eyes, his gaze shadowed and obscure.

—

Shen Nanyuan and Xiao Yan carefully climbed back over the wall into the Duke Protector’s mansion, returning the ladder to its original place.

The courtyard was empty, lit only by the faint glow of lanterns; Qing Ruo and the others had long since retired.

Shen Nanyuan, well-versed in the layout, headed straight for the side room. Once inside, she collapsed onto a chair, swinging her legs in exhaustion. “So tired.”

“If you’re tired, miss, you should rest,” Xiao Yan replied quietly.

His eyes were calm, betraying his confusion as to why, so late at night, she lingered here instead of going to bed.

Shen Nanyuan studied him for a moment. “Are you upset?”

She propped her elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her palm, her eyes so limpid they were almost impossible to meet directly. “I could sense it earlier, outside. You seemed unhappy—why is that?”

Just before, he’d seemed in good spirits.

This child truly was mercurial.

“It’s nothing,” Xiao Yan averted his gaze, pressing his lips together. “I’m not upset.”

Nonsense.

The words “not upset” were practically written across his face.

Shen Nanyuan pondered a moment, then her eyes brightened with sudden understanding. “I know!”

Xiao Yan’s breath caught, his heart leaping into his throat as he gazed at her, uncertain. She continued, “You must be upset because you couldn’t defeat the Second Prince’s two attendants, right?”

This child’s pride was formidable.

She soothed him, “There’s nothing to be upset about. The people at the Second Prince’s side are no ordinary men. You’ve only been practicing martial arts for a short while—of course you can’t beat them yet. But you’re so talented, in time you’ll be formidable. Even my brother says your gifts are rare.”

Xiao Yan fell silent.

The tension in his heart slowly eased.

Fortunately, she’d misunderstood the reason.

In truth, he couldn’t clearly say why he was so restless. It was only when he saw Jun Ci walking shoulder to shoulder with her that the realization struck—he was merely a servant now.

She was the cherished young mistress of the Duke Protector’s household. Even though she was good to him now, one day she would marry out, and he would remain here, unable even to see her.

The thought was unbearable, leaving him anxious and unsettled.

Shen Nanyuan had no inkling of his inner turmoil. She only saw him with his head bowed, looking pitifully obedient, and her heart softened. Rising, she walked over to Xiao Yan, tilting her head up. “Still not cheered up?”

In her hand was a piece of preserved fruit, which she lifted to his lips.

“Have something sweet and sleep on it. By morning, you’ll have forgotten all about it.”

Her smile was radiant, her eyes curved in delight, the soft lamplight casting her in a warm, pure glow, devoid of any malice. Tiny sparks danced in her eyes. “Whenever I’m feeling down, I like to eat something sweet.”

Xiao Yan’s gaze fixed on her, his mind blank, completely overtaken by the moment. He could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his chest, his hands trembling ever so slightly.

A rush of unfamiliar panic and agitation swept through him, her delicate fragrance lingering in the air. Even his long lashes trembled.

Shen Nanyuan, arm growing tired, lifted the preserved fruit higher. “Come on, eat.”

“But,” Xiao Yan finally came to himself, the joy in his heart curving his lips almost imperceptibly, “preserved fruit isn’t sweet.”

Shen Nanyuan’s smile faltered. “What?”

Her expression immediately fell. She pouted, “I was just trying to cheer you up. If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it myself.”

She began to withdraw her hand, but Xiao Yan spoke hastily, “I’ll eat it.”

He lowered his gaze, inclined his head, and gingerly bit off a corner of the preserved fruit, rolling it into his mouth. “It is sweet.”

Shen Nanyuan gave a little huff, but seeing the way he obediently ate the fruit, she suddenly found him terribly endearing. On a whim, she rose on tiptoe, smiling as she reached up to gently pat his head.

“All right, off to bed now. I’m tired, so I’ll go rest.”

She yawned, turning away without a care in the world.

On the table remained a packet of preserved fruit she had left behind, sitting quietly.

For the first time, Xiao Yan felt the room unbearably silent.

So silent, in fact, that he could hear the beat of his own heart.

—

Xiao Yan’s injuries took more than half a month to heal, but with the ointment Meng Chuyue had sent, his wounds recovered quickly.

Once he was well, he resumed his martial training with Shen Sinian. Shen Nanyuan’s days these past weeks had been comfortable, save for one concern: in the original story, Meng Chuyue had scaled the Duke Protector’s walls three or four times, but since the night she had brought medicine for Xiao Yan, she had not appeared again.