Chapter 120: Deepening Affection (3)

In the darkness, Shen Xiling’s cheeks were flushed like she was drunk. She quietly withdrew from his embrace but remained very close to him.

“Because,” she whispered softly into his ear, “I missed you so much...”

After saying this, she boldly kissed Qi Yin.

Such a daring act should have made her feel shy or timid, but at that moment, Shen Xiling felt no such emotions. She was simply immersed in the kiss. Qi Yin seemed momentarily stunned, but he quickly responded with equal passion. He held her even tighter, their lips and breaths intertwining as one.

The darkness became a fertile ground for desire to flourish. They both lost themselves, completely abandoning the restraint and rationality they had barely maintained the night before. Even their fingertips intertwined.

Neither knew who had pinned whom onto the bed first—perhaps it was Shen Xiling. She lay atop Qi Yin, kissing him, though her body was soft and weak. But she wasn’t worried about not being able to support herself because she knew Qi Yin would hold her.

And indeed, he did hold her—but not for long. Soon, he took control, flipping her over and pulling her into his arms. His kisses were even bolder, moving from her lips to her delicate, pale neck, down to the lowest point of her collar, until she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. Though usually cold and composed, he was exceptionally passionate and dominant in this moment. His hand firmly gripped her wrist, his thumb unconsciously pressing against her palm—a gesture of complete possession and control.

Yet, even in his passion, he remembered the wound on her wrist from the previous day and carefully avoided it.

His care for her ran deep into his bones.

They didn’t know how long they had been entwined, but when they finally parted, both were breathless. Still, they weren’t satisfied. However, Qi Yin was already aware of the changes in his body. He knew if they continued, something would inevitably happen, so he abruptly ended the kiss. Fortunately, Shen Xiling was already dazed and didn’t notice his unease.

In the darkness, they embraced each other silently, feeling only each other’s breaths and heartbeats, as if they could stay like this until dawn.

Eventually, Qi Yin spoke first. He gently kissed Shen Xiling’s hair and said softly, “My body is still cold. I don’t want you catching a chill.”

As he spoke, he began to loosen his hold, intending to let her return to the warmth of the blankets.

But Shen Xiling refused, still clinging to him. She nuzzled his neck playfully, coquettishly saying, “No, I want to hold you a little longer…”

She had always been good at being coquettish, and now that their affection had deepened, she had no reservations. Her playful behavior became even more overt.

Qi Yin couldn’t resist her and gave in. Then he heard her whispering in his ear, “Let’s light the lamp? It’s too dark right now—I can’t see you.”

I want to see you.

The unspoken affection lingered between them. At this moment, even if Shen Xiling had asked for the moon, Qi Yin wouldn’t have hesitated to agree. Naturally, he complied.

Young Master Qi didn’t call for the servants; instead, he personally rose to light the lamps.

As soon as he finished lighting the last one, the little girl hugged him from behind. He didn’t know when she had gotten out of bed—it seemed she truly couldn’t bear to be apart from him for even a moment, always needing to cling softly to him.

Qi Yin turned around and saw her barefoot, her small, white feet touching the ground. She had been by his side for three years, well taken care of, but she was still quite frail and couldn’t withstand the cold. Seeing her barefoot naturally made Qi Yin frown.

Before he could scold her, the little girl beat him to it. She looked at him with a furrowed brow and asked, “Why does Master look so pale?”

After a pause, her tone grew sharper. “Did you skip meals again?”

Qi Yin was left speechless by her retort. She, on the other hand, became increasingly indignant, glaring at him disapprovingly. After a moment, she released her hold on him, turned to put on her shoes and outer robe, then headed toward the door.

Qi Yin grabbed her and asked, “Where are you going?”

Shen Xiling turned back to look at him, her face slightly sullen, her eyes displeased. After staring at him for a while, she said, “To make some late-night snacks.”

Qi Yin raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “There’s no need—it’s already so late.”

But the little girl ignored him, looking at him with a hint of annoyance. “What if I’m hungry, alright?”

With that, she pushed his hand away and walked out the door without looking back.

Outside the door, Qing Zhu had overheard their conversation and seen Shen Xiling emerge, followed by the master’s helpless expression. This filled him with immense satisfaction.

Tsk, this little girl might not excel at much, but she certainly knows how to handle their master.

Look, doesn’t the master seem utterly powerless against her?

The night was deep, and Shen Xiling didn’t want to disturb the kitchen staff. Instead, she simply prepared a pot of red bean and Job’s tears porridge, along with two small dishes: yam with wood ear mushrooms and celery tofu.

Since she had made more porridge than needed, she decided to join Qi Yin for a late-night snack.

However, she ate very little, mostly just watching him. Concerned about his health, she eventually couldn’t help but ask, “Master, do you feel better now?”

Qi Yin glanced at her and nodded.

Shen Xiling blinked, her brows still knitted with worry. She stared at him for a while and said, “Don’t lie to me, Master.”

Qi Yin smiled and replied, “I’m not lying. I feel much better.”

He truly wasn’t lying.

He had never been particular about his diet, and over time, it had become a chronic issue. Now, he was used to it. When busy, he often didn’t notice the pain, only feeling it when he had time to rest. During those times, he had no appetite and couldn’t eat much. But perhaps because the food she prepared suited his taste—or maybe simply because she had made it—he ate a little more.

Hearing this, Shen Xiling was half-convinced, unsure if he was just trying to comfort her. Later, seeing his complexion improve and no longer as pale as when he first returned, she gradually relaxed.

Seeing her still frowning and staring at him intently, Qi Yin decided to change the subject. “What did you do at home today?”

Shen Xiling understood his intention. She wasn’t as easily deceived as she used to be, especially when her emotions were calm, she could often discern his thoughts. However, after some thought, she realized persisting on this topic wouldn’t help, so she went along with his diversion. “I just rested, took a long nap, woke up to eat, then slept again.”

Qi Yin chuckled. “That’s good.”

It seemed like he was teasing her, and Shen Xiling laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed. After a pause, her expression softened, and she said, “I also thought about visiting Mrs. Feng… In theory, I should go, but I’m afraid seeing me will upset her, causing more trouble…”

Qi Yin paused mid-bite, then resumed as usual. “You’re right to consider that. It’s better to send someone else on your behalf.”

Mentioning Mr. Feng saddened Shen Xiling. She glanced at Qi Yin and fell silent.

Qi Yin quickly noticed the shift in her mood and understood why. After a moment of silence, he said, “Last night, I told you that Mr. Feng’s death wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t just comforting you—I truly believe it.”

Shen Xiling listened but didn’t brighten. She kept her head bowed and said, “Even if it’s not entirely my fault, at least half of it is. Both me and the guild are to blame.”

Qi Yin smiled and shook his head.

Shen Xiling looked at him, pouting. “Do you think I’m wrong, Master?”

“No,” Qi Yin’s expression was calm. “The guild is indeed responsible for half, but the other half isn’t yours.”

He paused, raising his eyebrows to look at her. “It lies with the rules.”

Shen Xiling was stunned, confused by his words. Qi Yin always spoke succinctly, and having said this much, he didn’t continue, resuming his meal of the porridge she had prepared.

Shen Xiling, however, continued to ponder his words, gradually understanding.

The intertwining of commerce and politics in Liang was too tight, wealth and power blending into chaos, disrupting order in both realms. Though Shen Xiling wasn’t familiar with officialdom, she had some experience in business. For example, the guild operated under the guise of commerce but wielded power, ultimately ignoring rules and manipulating everything, even disregarding human lives without consequence.

How many people had suffered under the guild’s oppression? Even with Mr. Feng’s death, no authority stepped in. Why? Simply because they feared the Fu family behind the guild—power fearing greater power.

The guilty parties weren’t just Yang Dong or the guild, but the laws of this court, and even the nation itself—the rules of the game were flawed.

Qi Yin was right.

Shen Xiling knew he was right, but she still felt guilty about Mr. Feng.

She pursed her lips and said, “Even if Master’s reasoning makes sense, if only I had been more prepared or handled things more tactfully, perhaps it wouldn’t have ended this way…”

She sighed.

Qi Yin looked up at her, his expression gentle, with a hint of wry amusement in his eyes.

“Little girl,” he said, “how old are you?”

This was the first time he called her “little girl” to her face, exuding a strange intimacy and affection that made Shen Xiling blush. She heard him continue, “You’ve just come of age. Most girls your age still know nothing, yet you already have your own business—you’ve done well. Give yourself more time.”

Qi Yin truly understood the nuances of their relationship. Just moments ago, during their intimate moments, he was her lover, but now, in this heartfelt conversation, he naturally became her mentor. With just a few simple words, he dispelled her confusion.

He understood her deeply, which made him better at consoling her than anyone else.

She felt lighter, though she still felt remorse for Mr. Feng’s death, the weight of a life no longer suffocating her.

She smiled at Qi Yin. Between them, no words were needed—a single glance conveyed mutual understanding. Seeing her expression, Qi Yin knew she had understood, and he relaxed.

“What should I do, then?” she asked. “I can’t change the rules, no matter how much time I give myself. Will similar incidents happen again?”

She truly didn’t want to witness another tragedy.

Qi Yin paused, his chopsticks stopping mid-air.

She, of course, could not change any of this—neither her, nor him, nor even his family, nor the Emperor. He had long realized that this country could not be changed unless every single piece was dismantled and reassembled; otherwise, the entrenched power would continue to dominate in this murky pool.

Many problems couldn’t bear close scrutiny, or else they would evoke sorrow. For instance, what kind of court was he tirelessly defending in the north-south wars? And could the reforms his eldest brother insisted on against all opposition still save this nation? These were questions that couldn’t be pondered too deeply, or they would lose their way.

Even those in power felt powerless—let alone Shen Xiling?

He couldn’t tell her how to protect everyone. He could only tell her how to protect herself—it was time for her to grow up a little more.

After some deliberation, Qi Yin said, “Wenwen, everything in the world has two sides, such as power—the guild forced Mr. Feng to his death through power, and I protect you through power.”

He looked at her, his expression calm and transparent, appearing exceptionally clear and profound.

“Power itself is neither good nor evil; it’s just a tool. What determines good or evil is the person wielding the power,” his tone was light, and his expression even lighter. “All things in the world converge on one path. Unless one transcends worldly affairs, everything will eventually lead to power. You and I can certainly avoid it, but the result might not be good, and could even be worse.”

His tone carried the composure and wisdom born from experiencing many storms.

Shen Xiling looked at him, still feeling confused, and asked in a somewhat uncertain voice, “… Then what should I do?”

Qi Yin smiled upon hearing this. “No one can answer this question, Wenwen. Even my answers are illusions and won’t truly belong to you.”

“In this world, there are all kinds of people, and each person’s answer to power is different,” his phoenix eyes were beautiful, but his tone was indifferent. “Some are cowardly, some are stubborn, some are domineering, some are detached—all sorts exist. Your answer can only be found by yourself. All I can offer is my hope.”

He looked at her, and though he was a man who didn’t believe in gods or buddhas, at this moment, he appeared to have a compassionate gaze as if overlooking all sentient beings.

He said, “Transcending worldly affairs is not something everyone can achieve, and sinking into the mire is naturally undesirable. I hope you can become more perceptive—not addicted to power like honey, nor avoiding it like a venomous snake. Understand how to use it to protect yourself, and ultimately not be controlled by it. That would be ideal.”

He spoke word by word, and she listened word by word.

She knew he saw through her. Because of the guild and Yang Dong, she had begun to feel revulsion and fear towards power. But he had awakened her with one sentence: power itself has no inherent good or evil—it becomes a harmful weapon only in the hands of the wrong person.

She shouldn’t try to avoid it, for that would mean she couldn’t protect others, and might not even be able to protect herself… When he said he hoped she would become more perceptive, he meant he wanted her to be a detached yet wise person—detachment doesn’t mean giving up pursuit, and wisdom doesn’t mean failing to discern.

She seemed to understand a little.

Seeing her fall silent, Qi Yin knew the little girl was contemplating. He didn’t say more. There were things he could help her with, and there were things she had to figure out on her own.

She had to grow up by exploring on her own.

Both fell silent for a long time, each eating their late-night snack. Shen Xiling began to sip the red bean and Job’s tears porridge. After a few sips, she seemed to recall another matter. She turned her head to look at Qi Yin, bit her lip, and asked, “The marriage matter… have you spoken to Third Brother about it?”

Upon hearing this, Qi Yin didn’t answer but set down his chopsticks.

Shen Xiling was startled by this and, seeing his displeased expression, became even more confused. She blinked and asked, “… What’s wrong?”

Qi Yin looked at her, his eyes half-smiling, half-not, and after a moment of silence, said, “I actually wanted to ask you earlier—when you were studying at the main house, were you close to Jing’an?”

“Hmm?” Shen Xiling was taken aback, blinked again, thought for a moment, and replied, “Not really, we only exchanged a few words.”

Qi Yin acknowledged this and withdrew his gaze, picking up his chopsticks to take a piece of tofu, seemingly casually saying, “You call him so affectionately, I thought you were close back then.”

Even if Shen Xiling were younger and inexperienced in matters of romance, she could sense something amiss in his words!

He… was jealous.

At first, Shen Xiling found it hard to believe, but she understood him well, and he rarely tried to hide his true feelings from her. She distinctly sensed a hint of sourness.

She suddenly recalled an incident from her childhood schooling. One time during an exam by Mr. Wang, Qi Yin happened to visit their study. She called Qi Ning “Third Brother” in front of him, and his attitude had been somewhat off. At the time, she was too young to understand, but now, recalling it, she found it amusing.

Shen Xiling giggled, looking at Qi Yin, deliberately teasing him, and said, “We were indeed quite close. Third Brother almost became my fiancé, and Master even agreed at the time.”

This was what one might call settling old scores.

The little girl wasn’t joking around when settling accounts, especially having engaged in commerce for years, she had picked up many cunning habits, sharp-tongued and unwilling to yield. This left Young Master Qi momentarily speechless.

However, since it was indeed Qi Yin’s fault, he didn’t have much to say and could only remain silent. But the fact that his little girl had called someone else “Third Brother” so affectionately gnawed at him. It was one thing before, but now that they had broken through that barrier, many things needed to change.

Qi Yin turned towards Shen Xiling, extended his hand, and said, “Come.”

Shen Xiling blinked, discerning Qi Yin’s intention—he wanted her to sit on his lap.

It was rare for Qi Yin to be cornered, and Shen Xiling was reluctant to let go of this opportunity to tease him. However, the allure of his embrace seemed stronger. After weighing her options, she ultimately succumbed to her love for him and walked over to him without much resistance, sitting on his lap and leaning into his arms.

Whenever they were close, she felt his tall stature even more. His shoulders were broad, his limbs long, and holding her always seemed effortless. She felt especially safe nestled beside him.

Suddenly, she felt him pinch her soft waist, which made her laugh again. She heard him say, “You call me Master, and him Third Brother, hmm?”

Shen Xiling laughed while dodging his hand, then looked up at him, teasingly asking, “So which part do you disapprove of? Disliking me calling you Master, or disliking me calling him Third Brother?”

Shen Xiling also seemed to understand the nuances of their relationship, no less than Qi Yin. Earlier, when he spoke seriously, she was his student, a child. But now, as they grew intimate, she was a woman, loved by him, possessing the privilege to joke and tease him.

She teased him with a playful smile, her eyebrows and eyes becoming coquettish and charming in a way she herself didn’t realize.

Qi Yin felt his heart pinched between the little girl’s fingers, looking at her helplessly, and said, “I disapprove of both. Both need to change.”

Hearing this, she giggled again, like a blooming flower, clinging to his shoulder and nestling into him, her nose brushing against his neck, whispering, “Changing for him is easy; I’ll call him Third Master instead—but what should I call you?”

“Second Brother?” Her breath was sweet and enticing, her face flushed as if she had drunk several cups of wine. “Or—Jingchen?”

Qi Yin felt that tonight’s encounter between them couldn’t end peacefully.

He kissed her again.

They kissed passionately, their fingers intertwined, the faint aroma of red beans wafting, making them even more intoxicated.

After a long while, he released her, their foreheads touching, gazing at her flirtatious eyes, his voice slightly hoarse as he said, “… Then you’d better stick to the original way of addressing me.”

Second Brother.

Jingchen.

If she called him that every day… even he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

After the late-night snack, Qi Yin went to bathe, while Shen Xiling hesitated over whether she should return to Woyu Courtyard.

Of course, she didn’t want to part from him, but tonight was different from last night. Last night, after that incident, she was naturally panicked, and he comforted her by letting her stay in Huaijin Courtyard. Besides, it had been raining heavily, making it inconvenient to move in and out. Now that she was fine, and it wasn’t raining outside, returning to her own courtyard would be more appropriate.

To avoid… appearing too forward.

She pursed her lips, sitting on a chair in the outer room, intending to tell him she would leave after he came out of the bathroom. However, when he emerged and saw her sitting in the outer room, he raised an eyebrow, seemingly quite surprised, and asked, “Why aren’t you resting inside?”

This caught Shen Xiling off guard.

She stood up and walked over to him. Feeling particularly refreshed after his bath, she blushed again quietly, remained silent for a moment, lowered her head, and said, “I… should I go back tonight?”

Qi Yin didn’t respond immediately. Her fingers quietly entwined together, her voice even softer as she said, “Sleeping here is a bit… inappropriate.”

Qi Yin naturally understood the impropriety. She was still an unmarried young lady. Although they had already established their relationship, they hadn’t gone through the formalities of marriage and held no official titles. Their intimacy over the past two days was already highly inappropriate, let alone allowing her to stay here.

He lowered his eyelids, concealing deeper thoughts in his eyes.

—He had to arrange everything quickly, or his little girl would continue to suffer, and their relationship would ultimately struggle to endure.

Seeing Qi Yin fall silent, his presence growing heavier, Shen Xiling thought he was unhappy and reached out to tug at the hem of his robe. Coming back to his senses, he looked at her, and she tugged at his robe again, moving closer and said, “Then I’ll stay—if you’re not happy…”

Qi Yin’s brows and eyes softened instantly.

It seemed he sighed, then slowly reached out to embrace her, tender and lingering, but without any carnal desire.

“No unhappiness,” Shen Xiling heard him murmur softly, “Just reluctant to part with you.”

Shen Xiling’s heart stirred.

This man was taciturn and wouldn’t say anything sweet. Even when their relationship changed last night, he didn’t express himself with lengthy words, only offering a few ambiguous phrases.

This was the first time she heard him say romantic words, telling her he was reluctant to part with her.

She felt her heart brimming full, every inch of it soft, and every moment she became more in love with him than before.

She also hugged his waist, rubbing against his chest, and said, “Then I really won’t leave.”

She heard his low laughter, and simultaneously felt his breath grow gentler. He held her for a while longer before releasing her, his phoenix eyes lowered, his brows like ink-wash paintings, looking at her and saying, “Go back.”

He gently pinched her cheek, “There’s plenty of time ahead.”