Chapter 113: Peeping at Xiangwen

“Me?” Yue Lingjun paused for a moment, then smiled. “Naturally, I’m on Yue’er’s side. Aren’t you, too?”

“Of course,” Meng Chuchen arched an eyebrow, his tone utterly certain.

The two brothers leaned against the rail, gazing at the surging river. Neither spoke again, watching as night gradually swallowed their boat.

No one knew how much time had passed before Yue Lingjun’s voice broke the darkness once more. “It’s truly a blessing to have a brother like you.”

“It’s not so bad having a brother like you, either.”

They shared a smile. Suddenly, Meng Chuchen’s expression shifted, turning as dark as the night itself. He spun around and strode toward the nearby cabin.

Yue Lingjun shook his head and chuckled softly. The only one who could make his brother’s mood swing so wildly was Yao Yao—always Yao Yao. Who knew what trouble she’d caused this time? She was clearly Meng Chuchen’s nemesis.

“Well, is the night breeze so pleasant that you plan to stand here all night?” Yue Lingjun turned and gazed at the silhouette already etched deep into his heart. He simply watched her quietly, content in that moment.

Lan Shui still wore her gentle smile. Under Yue Lingjun’s gaze, she walked to his side, leaned against the rail as well, closed her eyes, and savored the soothing wind and peace of the hour.

On the other side of the boat, Yao Yao had just poked half her body out, hesitating, when she was yanked back with surprising force into a warm embrace.

She knew this embrace well—truth be told, it filled her with both affection and fear.

“Running away again?” Meng Chuchen was trying hard to suppress his anger. He had just seen a sneaky figure at the prow and recognized Yao Yao at once.

He’d followed her here and caught her in the act. He couldn’t believe she was still trying to escape after everything he’d said so clearly. Perhaps he’d been too lenient with her lately.

Yao Yao, realizing she’d been caught—especially by her senior brother Chuchen—felt dispirited. “I only wanted to watch the fish.”

“Watch fish?” Meng Chuchen’s arms tightened around her. “Who goes fish-watching in the middle of the night?”

“I do,” Yao Yao replied, but even she could hear the guilt in her voice. Suddenly, she felt his arms slacken and breathed a sigh of relief, turning to see the wounded look on Meng Chuchen’s face, entirely at a loss.

Meng Chuchen, however, completely misread her expression. “If you don’t want to marry me, you could just tell me—you don’t need to run away.”

Startled, Yao Yao panicked, thinking he was about to go back on his word. “You promised you’d marry me! Are you regretting it?” Her large, dewy eyes brimmed with grievance and accusation.

Meng Chuchen’s heart soared from despair to elation. So it had all been a misunderstanding. He pulled Yao Yao back into his arms and murmured, “Silly girl, why would I ever regret it?”

Yao Yao sniffled, still staring up at him. “Then just now—”

“I thought you wanted to leave me, that you no longer wished to marry me.” Meng Chuchen sighed inwardly. Since when had he become so insecure? But recalling how she’d been about to climb out of the boat, his tone turned less gentle. “What were you doing at the rail just now?”

“I…” Yao Yao’s eyes darted, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her robe, her voice barely a whisper, “I just wanted to get sick.”

This… this… Meng Chuchen was truly on the verge of losing his temper. “What did you say? Repeat that.”

To Yao Yao, his voice sounded almost terrifying. She had no choice but to confess, “I saw that when Sister Yue got sick, she made a breakthrough in her cultivation, so I thought I’d try it too. Maybe I’d make a breakthrough if I got sick, so I came out to catch more wind.” As she spoke, she watched Meng Chuchen’s face darken further, her voice growing softer and softer. “Sister Yue and I started together, but I’m trailing so far behind… What if you think I’m stupid and decide not to marry me?”

As she finished, Yao Yao looked at Meng Chuchen in embarrassment and fear. “You won’t really dislike me, will you?”

“Never!” Seeing her pitiful expression and finally understanding what was going on, Meng Chuchen’s anger vanished. “I like you just the way you are, even if you’re a little silly.”

“You see, you do think I’m stupid!” Yao Yao pouted, aggrieved.

“I don’t.”

“You clearly do!”

Meng Chuchen knew it was pointless to argue, so he simply lowered his head and kissed her, silencing her complaints and quibbles. But he had overestimated his own self-control—what was meant to be a brief kiss became another, and another, until he simply never let her go.

Caught off guard by his sudden assault, Yao Yao soon found herself responding, even taking the initiative. Not even the darkness could hide the blush that tinged their cheeks.

So absorbed were they that neither noticed the eyes spying on them from behind.

The owner of those eyes was none other than Lian Yue, who had just awoken. She had only come to close the window, but by chance had witnessed the entire scene. Her face burned red, as if she herself had been caught doing something indecent.

Lian Yue quietly shut the window, heart pounding, and sat back on her bed. Seeing Zizhu sleeping soundly at the table, she breathed a sigh of relief, though her heart refused to calm.

All the while, she felt overflowing blessings for her second brother and Yao Yao. On a whim, she slipped a black scarf from beneath her pillow and stared at it in a daze.

Early the next morning, Lian Yue stepped out onto the deck, her cheeks still tinged pink. She had dozed off again after last night’s confusion, and when she woke, she found herself still clutching the black scarf—which, to her mortification, had been noticed by Sister Lan and Zizhu, who questioned her endlessly.

Truly, it was mortifying beyond words…

Through the window, Qiao Zhi spotted the graceful figure on the deck and felt a surge of joy. He stepped outside and called from afar, “You’re up early, Yue’er. It seems you’re recovering well.”

“Good morning,” Lian Yue replied, feeling awkward around Qiao Zhi because of last night. Though it seemed unnecessary, she still felt compelled to explain, “Yesterday, I didn’t realize my cultivation had broken through and almost hurt you. I’m really sorry.”

She noticed that Qiao Zhi was now holding a different bone fan. She wondered if he even needed another, and whether she should bother getting the one in her cabin repaired.

Qiao Zhi immediately seized the opportunity. “So, how do you plan to make it up to me?”

Lian Yue was taken aback. She had only meant to be polite, expecting him to say it was nothing and that no harm was done. She hadn’t anticipated such a response. In truth, she hadn’t thought about it, but from the look in his eyes, she knew he wouldn’t let her off easily without a satisfactory answer.

She cursed herself inwardly for speaking up, but had to respond, “I’ll get your fan repaired.”

“That’s it?” Qiao Zhi was clearly dissatisfied.

“Then what do you want?” Lian Yue grew more convinced that he was like an unshakeable plaster, impossible to get rid of. “Say it, let’s hear it.”

Qiao Zhi had thought she would bluff and refuse, but now found himself at a loss for words. After thinking for a long while, he finally said, “I’ll tell you when I think of something.”

“Then I’ll see how I feel about it when the time comes,” Lian Yue replied, not foolish enough to promise anything. Since he hadn’t specified now, the matter could easily be forgotten.

Qiao Zhi let the matter drop, gazing ahead at the faint outline of a ferry landing. “We’ll be docking soon. Would you like to go ashore for a stroll?”

Lian Yue, still unaware of the Zhou family matter, thought it was because of her. “I’m fine now. Why dock at all? Wouldn’t it be better to continue our journey?”

Qiao Zhi explained, “The Zhou family sent word they’ll be waiting at the next dock to travel with us.”

Lian Yue frowned. “That’s odd. You’re all headed to wish the retired emperor a happy birthday. Why not go straight to Xijing? Why detour to Nanping?”

Qiao Zhi thought to himself it was all for her sake, but spoke bluntly, “You went missing and we all turned the world upside down looking for you. Now you’re complaining about hitching a ride with us?”

Lian Yue felt a pang of guilt. She already knew the five great factions had joined forces to issue a wanted notice, but hadn’t realized her disappearance had caused such a stir. This only strengthened her resolve not to reveal An Ming’s identity.

“That’s not what I meant—just that it all seems a bit excessive.” She offered a distracted explanation, her thoughts drifting to An Ming. So many days had passed—where could he be now? Had he returned to the Rakshasa Hall? Was his injury any better?