Nineteen thousand and nineteen.

By early August, the summer heat persisted relentlessly, the sunlight blazing like a furnace, making one reluctant to step outside. The lotus flowers by the lake had mostly withered, now bearing fruit; in a few days, fresh lotus seeds would be ready to eat.

A few days ago, Shen Shuyao had returned briefly to her family home. Shen Wenwu, having just ended his confinement, spoke to her in a low voice, complaining about the hardships and boredom of recent days. He also mentioned that their father had made him copy Buddhist scriptures to help calm his mind.

Shen Wenwu was quite dissatisfied with this, and he vented his frustrations harshly in front of her. On the surface, Shen Shuyao seemed to agree, but deep down, she supported Shen Zheng’an’s approach. Shen Wenwu was still young and impulsive, not to be provoked; if he didn’t learn to temper his temperament, he would suffer greatly in the future.

After enduring his nagging, Shen Shuyao returned to the Orchid Garden. A few days later, she received an invitation from Chen Shuyi to go horseback riding in the countryside. It had been a long time since she last rode horses outdoors, and she was eager to go, but thinking of the troublesome issues between Chen Shuyi and Xie Jun, she declined.

Their unresolved matters continued to weigh heavily on her mind, disturbing her peace. One day, when Xie Jun came to the Orchid Garden, fortunately Xie Yi was present. She didn’t intervene herself but let Xie Yi handle it. Later, she heard from Xie Yi that Lady Lin forbade him from going out, fearing he would meet Chen Shuyi, so she came to plead with Xie Yi.

Xie Yi was annoyed and told Xie Jun not to come to the Orchid Garden unless there was something important and to send someone to notify them instead. Only then did Xie Jun lower his head and leave.

That afternoon, Xie Yi was out on official business, and Liu Yi came to see her. He asked whether the new canopy bed was made of golden Phoebe wood or rosewood.

Shen Shuyao’s face flushed deeply, and she replied awkwardly, “Rosewood.”

Liu Yi nodded approvingly before taking his leave.

She touched her face—burning hot and undoubtedly flushed. Shen Shuyao blamed Xie Yi for this; if he hadn’t been so tactless, none of this would have happened. Moreover, the whole Orchid Garden now knew about the bed change; she was probably the subject of ridicule behind her back.

It wasn’t merely whispers behind her back—some people, like Zhi Wei and a few others, always gave her ambiguous smiles in her presence, those teasing grins she couldn’t quite confront.

Sighing, she resolved to keep things quieter next time, not letting everyone find out.

Biting on a crisp pastry, her mood sour, Shen Shuyao wore a stern expression until Xie Yi returned.

Xie Yi had been busy these past few days and now bore faint dark circles under his eyes, looking somewhat weary. He rubbed his temples and sat down, glancing at her with a furrowed brow when he noticed her frowning silently.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“Nothing,” she replied.

Though she said nothing was wrong, her heart said otherwise. Xie Yi studied her for a moment but didn’t press further, too tired himself.

He changed into clean clothes and leaned back on the couch. Shen Shuyao, understanding the situation, refrained from causing trouble. Her petite figure leaned forward slightly, her bright eyes darting from his high-bridged nose down to his tightly pressed thin lips. She’d heard that men with thin lips were often cold and unfeeling, but Xie Yi didn’t seem that way.

His lips were warm and soft; every kiss left her breathless and tingling, melting into his embrace. Xie Yi enjoyed this, loving the dazed look she wore.

Shen Shuyao mused that no matter how prim and proper a man was, in matters of passion, they could be wild at heart.

“What are you looking at?”

Xie Yi opened his eyes—jet black and strikingly clear, tinged with a hint of sleepiness, making him appear languid and charming. Caught peeking, Shen Shuyao sat up abruptly, quickly regaining her composure.

“If you’re tired, go to bed.”

After a moment’s thought, she added, “Want something to eat?”

Perhaps due to summer’s heat, Xie Yi had lost some weight recently; his clothes hung a bit loosely. That morning when she had gone to pay respects to Lady Lin, the latter had instructed her to take better care of Xie Yi, noting his haggard appearance, somewhat reproachfully.

Looking closely now, he did look worn out.

Xie Yi sat up, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice low and hoarse, “No, thanks.”

His tone was weary and weak, stirring her sympathy. But come nightfall, he was a different man.

Fatigue and weakness had nothing to do with him.

—

Shen Shuyao had just finished bathing, her long black hair cascading over her front as she tilted her head, carefully drying it. Suddenly, a burning warmth pressed against her back.

She startled, tensing her body, and said irritably, “Aren’t you tired? Go to sleep.”

Last time, he had kept her up for days, a memory still vivid; her period had just ended two days ago. It had been quite some time since they had been close.

Her hands slowed, distracted by his presence, and she lowered them.

The man’s body radiated heat, his temperature seeping through the thin undergarment, scorching her skin. His scent was pleasant—fresh, clean, and dry, with the distinctive aroma of a mature man, utterly captivating.

As Xie Yi drew near, her soft frame relaxed, ignoring the damp ends of her hair. His arm stretched out in front, enveloping her entire body against his broad chest. With slight pressure, it felt as if she were sunk into him.

Her small hand covered his arm, struggling to pull away, but to no avail; Xie Yi held on tightly. Shen Shuyao lowered her gaze, noticing the smooth lines and prominent veins of his arm, full of vibrant strength and power.

Her cheeks burned as her thoughts drifted to the firm waist and abdomen of a man, just as the books described—capable of driving a person to the brink of ecstasy.

She bit her lip, eyes downcast, silently awaiting his next move.

Xie Yi kissed her temple, his voice low and husky, “Tonight, I’ll do as you wish, my lady.”

Recalling that night, he was still deeply enchanted, savoring it over and over like a fine delicacy he could never forget.

His hand tightened again, his breath growing warmer.

Shen Shuyao bit her lip, afraid to move, “Not tonight, maybe in a few days.”

She hadn’t fully recovered from last time and needed to process her feelings. Besides, she sensed from his expression that he desired a repeat of that night, which she couldn’t bring herself to do while clear-headed.

“Why?” he asked.

She tapped the bed casually, “Wait until it’s replaced. See, the bed frame is loose and creaks too much.”

Xie Yi understood her concern; his chest trembled slightly. “It doesn’t matter, no one’s around to hear.”

“Who are you trying to fool?”

People standing outside overheard bits and pieces, thinking she was oblivious.

She pushed him away and struggled to turn around, facing him. “What do you mean? You’ll listen to me about this, but nothing else? Is that it?”

Fixating on this issue, Xie Yi grew irritable. He tugged at his lips, “What exactly do you want me to listen to?”

Though it was a straightforward question, Shen Shuyao inexplicably recalled his earlier words, flushing instantly.

She parted her lips but couldn’t find the words, blinking before lying down, “I’m tired.”

This bed was truly terrible, creaking with every movement.

Xie Yi chuckled silently and lay down beside her, his tall frame turning skillfully to the side, playing with a strand of hair, twisting it around his fingers.

“Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“No,” she refused without hesitation; she needed time.

The green gauze canopy filled with a faint fragrance from her body—light and pleasant, reminiscent of gardenia flowers. Xie Yi loved it; whenever close, she nestled against his neck, breathing deeply.

He let go of her hair, but his warm palm grew restless.

“All right, I’ll take a look.”

Shen Shuyao didn’t understand what he meant at first, but suddenly felt a sharp tightening in her lower abdomen and realized.

She had read many books, illustrated and analytical, about men. They said that no matter how upright or self-controlled a man was, every gentleman harbored a darker nature—it was only a matter of when it would surface.

Shen Shuyao thought those books had not been read in vain. At this moment, Xie Yi was exhibiting that dark nature perfectly.

Her small face scrunched, eyes glazed as she stared intently at him.

Her crimson lips parted slightly. She heard the gentle sound of flowing water, her face flushed like delicate rouge.

After a moment’s trembling, she watched as Xie Yi raised his hand toward her, a satisfied expression on his face.

“Look,” he murmured, his voice deep, hoarse, and alluring.

Swallowing hard, Shen Shuyao muttered a curse under her breath, which Xie Yi caught, laughing even more freely.

“Go fetch a handkerchief,” she whispered shyly.

Just then, the cloth she had used to dry her hair lay nearby. Xie Yi picked it up effortlessly. She glanced at it disdainfully, “You used it to dry your hair.”

The man squinted, bringing the cloth to his nose, smiling softly. “Gardenia scent.”

He then put on his shoes and got out of bed to bring her a clean handkerchief. Shen Shuyao lay back, too weak to move, watching him, silently expecting his care.

Xie Yi raised an eyebrow but said nothing, bending down slowly.

—

The next day, Shen Shuyao did not rise early and was late paying respects to Lady Lin. Lady Lin’s gaze was sharp, scrutinizing her from head to toe, while Shen Shuyao lifted her chin, feeling quite timid.

She was late because she had overslept, ultimately blaming Xie Yi, who had clung to her until midnight—he was sometimes like a dog, so clingy.

Lady Lin scolded her briefly, but she didn’t take it to heart and soon forgot after leaving.

She rested at the Orchid Garden that morning. In the afternoon, Ling Chun went out to buy silk thread, and Shen Shuyao followed along to pass the time and browse.

Xie Yi returned home before she did. Coincidentally, Liu Yi came by and asked Xie Yi, “Has the new canopy bed arrived? Should we replace it now?”

Xie Yi unfastened his buttons and responded with a grunt before changing clothes. The sound of servants bustling about filled the air—clattering and noise.

He vaguely heard Liu Yi mention something about an item found.

Xie Yi glanced toward the direction, recalling a handkerchief missing from last night—not likely...

He hurriedly dressed and went out, asking Liu Yi, “What did you just see?”

Liu Yi looked down at his hands and said, “There’s a book under the bed. Take a look.”

The book was thickly coated with dust and spiderwebs, its cover blank, the contents unknown.

The man frowned, thoughts drifting to the passionate scene in Shen Shuyao’s room, causing his earlobes to burn as his mind wandered elsewhere. Clearing his throat, he took the book. “Give it here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Xie Yi glanced around, covering his nose, his eyes flickering. “Is there more? Anything else?”

The servants were cleaning, and the whole area was spotless and visible.

“No, sir.”

Xie Yi waved them off to continue their tasks, then took the book to his study.