Chapter 62: Night Encounter with the Young Marquis

Opposite stood Xie Jingxing.
Fire-light dim—features painted handsome—brow tight—cold unlike daylight—as if another man.
Jingzhe and Guyu had seen him before—knew him—surprised—stepped before Shen Miao.
Mo Qing's first meeting—unknown man—from Shen Miao's words they knew each other. Xie stared at Shen Miao—thought—smiled—released—blink—sword tossed back to Mo Qing.
Lazy retreat to the door, arms folded: "Shen girl—meet here—fate, or fate."
She ignored him—ordered Mo Qing and maids: "Leave now."
They glanced at Xie—nodded—going—Shen Miao said: "You first—I follow."
Dark—only the fire starter moving. Guyu frantic: "Miss—"
"Go!" Short, sure. Guyu trembled. Mo Qing shook head—grabbed both maids—leaped out the window.
Xie watched amused. Shen Miao felt to the table—found the censer—lit the aphrodisiac stick—was leaving—
Xie frowned—flicked finger—flame died. Black—a shape flew to her—arm around her waist—before she knew—warm embrace—rolled under the bed together.
"You—" rage and shock.
"Hush." His voice at her ear. "Someone entered."
Footsteps in the room. She stiffened.
She had not thought they would move so fast.
Fortune—they lit no lamp—as she expected—*his* taste ran to thrill in dark.
Outside: "Your Highness—all arranged."
"Withdraw—guard outside—do not spoil this king's mood." A hoarse voice—Prince Yu. Shen Miao's eyes moved—as thought.
"Shen Xin… Shen Xin…" Yu's voice swelled with triumph—twisted excitement. "This king will taste—your daughter—how different from other women?"
Steps toward the bed.
Her fist tightened.
Xie lowered his head—chin on her crown—girl's hair sweet—dark hid her face—body rigid—she was not unmoved.
Fabric tore on the bed—Yu growled filth—Qing seemed half awake—weak protest—soft—not quite refusal—almost welcome.
Air spread a heartbeat scent—orchid sweet—unwary lungs drank it.
Wrong crept in—her heart dropped—she had lit the drugged stick before leaving—hoist on her own petard. Never this—blamed the intruder Xie—without him she would be gone—not trapped. She glared at the culprit blind in dark.
No light to see—afraid to move and wake the bed—she pressed mouth and nose into his robe.
She knew the scent was foul—must not breathe—thought to use his collar—forgot he was a man.
When Xie understood the incense, he had already inhaled too much—and a girl in his arms. She still half child—soft warmth—body tightened. At the crisis she burrowed deeper—half her head buried in him.
Xie drew a deep breath. Born to now—never so wretched. Overhead the bed creaked endless—man and woman woven—face-burning. One wondered if the frame would collapse.
Half an hour more—the bed quieted—mid-fatigue. She was stone rigid—then he rolled with her—through the open window—flew flat in black—somehow silent—Yu never stirred.
Not far—Guyu trio anxious—nearly jumped—Jingzhe small: "Miss—we feared—someone went in—were you—" Words died—seeing how Shen Miao was held.
Xie very tall—carried her easy. Jingzhe angry: "Put her down!"
Brow lift—release—*slap*—Shen Miao hit the ground.
"You!" Guyu furious—brutal drop. They helped her up. "Miss—all right?"
Mo Qing stared at Xie—alarm. Noble young master—skill beyond his—no fight at all. Such hands—yet suspicious here at midnight. After he left with maids—men entered Shen Miao's room—guards behind—had Mo Qing not hid fast—trouble. He glanced at Shen Miao—did she know this group would come—what then was swapping Qing for?
She stood, dusted herself, calm at Xie: "Deep night, heavy dew—no more disturbing Young Marquis's business—we go first." Very distant.
Rain fine on her—clothes wet—lantern light—Xie's sharp scan—suddenly laughed like sport: "Exit that way passes the outer court—guards in force. Go die—I never stop those who seek death. Please."
Hateful words—wicked smile on a fair face. She looked at Mo Qing—he shook head, ashamed: "Alone I am not sure."
Yu himself was useless—his men were not.
"Young Marquis seems confident." Silence. Then:
He smiled, rose to leave—ignoring them all.
"Will you help us out?" she asked.
He looked back—thought—nodded: "Could. But—you beg me—and I lead you out."
Guyu and Jingzhe changed color—this temper—flirt tone—yet that face would make any girl flutter. Only loyalty let them burn.
Mo Qing frowned—Shen Xin's daughter—pampered—proud—provoked she would rage.
Against expectation she answered fast: "Good—I beg you—lead us out."
So quick Xie choked. He studied her—asking yet eyes level—posture easy—not one inch lower—strange—as if command not plea.
Before he spoke she added: "Young Marquis—going back on your word?"
"Small mind." He laughed—soft behind him: "Out."
Blink—black-clad men from everywhere—a dozen or more—matching Yu's guard count.
Maids jumped—Mo Qing startled—he had not sensed so many—skill above his. This youth commanded experts—identity guessed.
Xie: "Clean and quick—no alarm."
They bowed—vanished in night—movements matched—hard to find such discipline in Ming Qi guard. Shen Miao thought. Xie: "Will take time—other way."
Turned opposite—knew the temple layout like home.
"Follow him." Shen Miao said.
Somehow no encounter—all the way to south pavilion where Qing and Yue stayed—no guard outside. Safe—she told Mo Qing: "Return."
Guard quarters were separate—tonight he stole out—discovery meant change.
Guyu and Jingzhe entered with her—Xie did not leave. Jingzhe blocked his step toward inner room—wary: "Sir—stop."
He stopped—watched Shen Miao's back laugh: "Shen Miao—you wasted my whole night—no explanation?"
Her step paused—sigh inside. Seven-cunning heart—one glance sees all. No point hiding. She looked at maids: "Sleep outer room. Young Marquis—inside with me."
"Miss—" Guyu panicked. "Improper—"
Strange man alone at night—scandal. Caught—ruin. Fu Xiuyi crush could pass as girl's dream—nothing happened. This—reputation destroyed—yellow river could not wash clean.
"No one knows—what impropriety." She would not hear them. To Xie: "Enter."
He shrugged—followed—shut the door under their uneasy eyes.
Lamp lit—window sealed—rain muted—she sat at the table.
Xie leaned wall amused—watched her pour tea. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"
"Why should I be?"
"A boudoir girl alone with a strange man—not afraid I'll do something?" Smile worse—fire made him unfairly handsome.
"We already listened to another's bed business together. Now you speak fear—Young Marquis—isn't that late?" Flat.
Xie blank—incredulous flush. His age had seen what others saw and what they should not—Dingjing, Ming Qi—well traveled. First time a woman said "bed business" to his face calm.
In dark he had not seen her—since leaving her voice steady—as if the listener was someone else—monster?
"Are you even a woman?" Arms folded.
Normal girls would die of shame—never mention again—she had no shame before—general's daughter—too special.
She did not speak.
Xie nodded: "Almost forgot—you're not a woman—just a little girl."
Manner old—face still sweet—white cheeks, baby fat—silent she looked younger. Too young to know bed business—hence calm.
More sure—he came close, looked down: "That incense debt—we haven't settled—nearly took me down too." Grabbed her cheek—pinched hard—twice—not gentle—ravaged like a toy child.
"Impudence!" Low—instinct.
Both froze.
Firelight—his handsome face stiff—dark eyes complex flash—hand withdrawn—light laugh flat: "First time anyone told me impudence."
She annoyed at her slip—Xie always broke pattern—queen tone from last life—he was sharp—must not notice. Silence.
He broke it—sat opposite—poured tea—remembered—paper bundle from breast—pastries finer than Capital Guangfu Bakery.
Ate and drank loud: "Rushed—no dinner—tsk—this tea is foul." Picky young lord.
"Young Marquis came for tea and cakes?" She watched.
"Naturally not." Sudden smile—pastry stuffed in her mouth—too fast—sweet already.
Chin in hand—leisure—words sharp:
"You ate mine—answer now."
Fragrance melted—light fruit sweet—even she who disliked sweet found it good.
"What is your relation to Prince Yu?"
"Better ask why I did tonight."
"Speak—I listen."
"Those who milk others will be milked—tooth for tooth, eye for eye."
Xie's eyes shifted—smile strange: "Hard heart—pairing your sister with the old dog Yu."
Only Xie dared call a prince "old dog."
"When they sent me out they did not remember I am a sister too." Ice for ice—disgust bare. Lamp—face indifferent—eyes like burning.
"Girl who knows no heaven or earth." Xie stretched. "Yu will not forgive after."
"If he has the skill." Unmoved.
"You tell me so much—" He leaned—almost nose to nose—she startled—sat still—would not lose ground.
Face incomparable—crooked smile—voice deliberate light at her ear: "Not afraid I'll tell?"
"Young Marquis may do as he likes. I am curious too—Lin'an Marquis house—why legitimate heir wanders Wolong Temple at midnight."
Xie here was no accident—black guards—shocking. No coincidence—he was not visiting her—parallel plans collided.
Beautiful eyes—peach blossom—smile stole mind—cold—danger ice.
Once she was pressed by his aura—not only Qin royalty, Ming Qi throne, arrogant Huns—this one felt more dangerous.
"Bold enough." Smile slight.
"Same to you."
Xie stood—glanced—flat: "Old dog bores me. Tonight leaks half a word—Shen girl—silencing is not talk." Window—gone in rain.
Cool rain on her cheek—wind cleared head—she exhaled.
Xie was tightrope walk—young yet unfathomable—every casual line probed. Unease—she did not count Lin'an enemy—yet lines were drawn—not without grudge.
Tonight's meeting—he came for business—not the capital dandy—rain-night man another person. She had known some skill—Lin'an secrets not simple.
Pastries half-eaten on table—without them—a traceless dream. Not time to brood—Xie mattered little now—tomorrow… wait for tomorrow.
On the back slope rain soaked the ridge. Under a tree—a line of men.
Leading youth tall—rain on clothes and hair—statue still—watching the mountain.
A spark bloomed below—barely fireworks—flash gone.
He turned—voice flat: "Done."
"Young master wounded." A middle-aged man frowned.
He looked—fresh cut on his arm. Incense in that room targeted men—inhaled—reason lost to frenzy. Weaker on women—the girl dodged—he was not saint—feared accident—this to stay clear.
"Speak at home."
"Young master—" the man hesitated—"that Shen girl saw—"
"Tie Yi—a little girl—I need not strike." Peach eyes flashed—cold.
The man feared—braved: "But Shen house may know—"
"They don't." Cold. "Shen kin—all fools. One clever one appeared—" smile faint—"pity."
Lips moved—silence.
"Go."
Same hour—north pavilion.
Next to the inner room Ren Wanyun sat at table—one small lamp—flicker like her heart.
Xianglan: "Madam—third watch—rest."
Ren shook head—irritation: "Cannot sleep." Unease from nowhere—Gui said all smooth.
She left the yard—heard from innermost room—rain blurred—woman's cry and struggle—not clear—misery clear. Ren flushed and trembled. Capital gossip—Yu's methods many—true—Shen Miao would suffer. Fear—and pleasure.
In the third branch Shen Miao had Shen Xin behind—always first seen. Yue was capital talent—only Qing plain—but she had a son—Shen Qiu with the general—would fight Yuanbai for inheritance—yet now Shen Miao toyed? That proud sister-in-law—protect the daughter—or offer white silk?
Calmer—she looked at sky: "Rest a while."
Xianglan and Caiju glad—helped her lie—"Madam save strength—tomorrow needs it."
"Yes." Ren murmured. "Tomorrow needs strength." Tomorrow's fine play—she would close herself.
……
Rain all night.
After rain the forest cool—fragrant wet air—morning bell.
Bell woke sleepers. Ren opened eyes—night restless—nightmares—dawn sleep only—wake sweating.
"Madam wakes." Xianglan—"Wash."
After grooming she looked out—birds merry after rain.
"Bright dress today—that ruby-and-jade hair flower."
Middle age—usually dark clothes—rare bright pick. Caiju laughed: "Madam in good spirits—bright clothes refresh you."
Mirror—satisfied smile. Good mood—near glee.
Ready—"Go—fetch my 'weary' niece to eat."
Innermost north pavilion—quiet—no maid in yard. Ren pleased—Yu thorough—even maids sent away.
She wished to shout the matter—for later moves she held back.
"Knock." To Xianglan—disgust in her eyes.
Dirty woman—she despised—forgot who made it.
"Fifth Miss—" Xianglan rapped—"First Madam comes."
No sound inside—as empty.
"Fifth Miss—First Madam comes." Again.
Long knock—no answer.
Ren sighed, smiled: "Fifth Girl—child heart—day bright still lazy—incense will wait. I'll try."
Soft at door: "Fifth Girl—rise and eat—we burn incense—don't willful."
Still silence.
Ren turned—helpless—explaining to air: "Push in. Her maids worthless—absent without leave—punish back home." Hand on door—
"Second Aunt." Light voice in stillness. Ren thought from inside—Xianglan and Caiju: "Fifth Miss—Second Miss."
She turned—Yue and Shen Miao together.
Today Shen Miao wore snow-white plain silk skirt—moon-white peony cloak—like mourning. Pretty in white—used to her loud garish—this ethereal—cold bearing—moving.
Jealousy in Yue—when had the fool cousin matched her? Always comely—deliberately dressed vulgar—now bearing first—face opening—not same person.
Ren dazzled—frowned: "Fifth Girl—unlucky white—like funeral."
"Second Aunt wears bright today." Shen Miao laughed light.
Ren looked at her dress—remembered—studied Shen Miao. How from outside—calm? Last night fooled others not her. She must confirm—stepped close—grasped arm smiling: "Fifth Girl—sleep well last night?"
"Thank Second Aunt—quite well." Smile.
Ren watched expression—seemed true—doubt. When did she learn such stillness—normal girl would wail—why calm—act? Those miserable cries—she heard true.
Clear eyes—unease rose—panic. Smiled closer: "Sleep well—I am eased."
Then—neck white jade—fair skin—no stain—no mark.
Impossible—Yu's play violent—how no trace?
Yue looked at both—something happened—what?
Unease swelled—Ren grabbed her hand—chatty: "Cold—so thin—not cold?"—suddenly yanked white sleeve—wrist bare.
Clean as mutton-fat jade—no mark. Ren frozen. Shen Miao withdrew—smiled: "Second Aunt inspects something."
"No—" forced smile—"hand slipped." Dazed—no scar—she knew—even ordinary men left marks—Yu worse—yet Shen Miao untouched in spirit?
Calm face—how to speak the thing?
Eyes round—Yue's Huangying and Qingluan—no Jingzhe or Guyu—"Where are Fifth Girl's maids—gone at dawn?"
"I sent for porridge—throat sore this morning."
"Kitchen is far," Ren smiled. "Child—just say—but kitchen is south pavilion?"
"Yes." Shen Miao looked at her. "I came from south pavilion."
"Nonsense to Second Aunt—" Ren laughed—"you slept north pavilion last night?"
Before finish—Shen Miao smiled—since waking mostly cold small smile—now bright from the heart—heart cold.
Ren's heart sank like lead.
"Madam—miss gone!" Panic—Yanmei and Shuibi from Qing's side.
"What!" Ren screamed.
Yue paused—Qing missing? Glance at Shen Miao—calm as greeting.
"How can Qing be gone?" Ren seized Yanmei's collar—beast eyes.
"Oh—I know." Shen Miao spoke.
All looked.
Quiet—soft laugh: "I came from south pavilion—because I slept south pavilion last night."
"Could not sleep—I sought Eldest Sister to swap rooms—she agreed—Second Aunt next door—safer, she thought. This morning met Second Sister—came together—meant to thank Eldest Sister for kindness swapping."
Each sentence sank Ren—last wave despair—cheek meat tremble—eyes red—mad beast near.
Yue afraid— guessed disaster—yet glad first branch fell—followed: "Yes—this morning I saw Fifth Sister leave the next room—come find Second Sister to eat."
Voice light as feather—hammer on Ren—near blood.
"Last night here—not me—Eldest Sister."
Ren clutched chest—staggered—near fall.
Not Shen Miao last night—Shen Qing!
Yu played—her Qing! Those cries—Qing! One wall away—she let it happen—how accept—false—impossible!
Heart shredded—she looked at the shut door—no courage to open—what horror inside—dare not see.
Spinning—must not let Yue and Shen Miao see—if spread—if spread—smile worse than cry: "You go— I asked—Qing still sleeps—don't wait."
Shen Miao laughed: "Second Aunt jokes—just now didn't know Eldest Sister slept inside—now say you spoke—hiding secrets?"
"No!" Ren denied—Yue found it stranger. Shen Miao turned—called: "Nanny Gui! Please open this door for Second Aunt."
Gui came hunched—ordered early—unclear scene—thought Shen Miao and Ren agreed—guilt and shame—did not read Ren's ash face.
Too close—Ren could not stop—*creak*—door opened slow.
Everything silent.
From within—a suggestive smell rolled out.