#128: Rising Tides (1)

After that day, Shen Xiling and Qi Ying spent a rare stretch of leisurely days together.

His wounds had not yet fully healed, so he continued to be absent from court, taking leave for half a month.

During those fifteen days, they slept in until late morning every day, rising lazily after waking. Once up, Shen Xiling enthusiastically took to cooking meals, experimenting with different dishes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After preparing the food, they would eat together. Qi Ying’s eating habits became more regular, which alleviated his chronic stomach pain significantly; it hadn’t recurred in half a month, much to Shen Xiling’s delight.

After meals, they would curl up together reading books. Nearly all the vast collection in the Forgotten Study had been read by Qi Ying, but Shen Xiling had only perused a small portion. She would pull him along to read with her, chatting idly as they went—discussing his thoughts on the books and occasionally veering off into unrelated topics.

Besides reading, they also strolled leisurely around Fenghe Garden. This beautiful estate had rarely been fully appreciated before, as its master and mistress were always too busy to do more than use it as a resting place. Now, they finally had time to enjoy its beauty.

It was the transition between spring and summer, and the lotus flowers in Fenghe Garden were about to bloom. The lotus ponds in the garden were especially picturesque, exuding the charm of “young lotuses just showing their tips.” When they grew bored, they would wander into the garden to admire the lotuses, sometimes playing poetic games like reversed poetry or “flying flower” challenges. Qi Ying, a former second-place imperial scholar, couldn’t bring himself to compete seriously with a young girl, so he played along casually, winning sometimes and losing others. When he lost, he acted convincingly defeated, which kept her thoroughly entertained.

In addition, he finally found time to work on Shen Xiling’s riding skills again. Benxiao, the horse, was finally brought out of the stable for a run on the back slopes of Qingji Mountain. Unfortunately, its young mistress remained just as afraid of it as ever, requiring her male companion to hold the reins before she dared to mount.

Shen Xiling still didn’t enjoy riding, but now that their relationship had deepened, Qi Ying was no longer as strict when teaching her. By the time his injuries had mostly healed, he even sat behind her, holding her securely as they rode. They laughed and chatted, and the afternoons passed quickly—far from the tedium and frustration of her earlier riding lessons.

Everything was wonderful, except for one small issue that troubled Shen Xiling at night.

They both felt it wasn’t entirely proper to sleep together at night, especially since Shen Xiling was often teased by Shui Pei and the others. Even if they didn’t outright mock her, their knowing glances made her blush with embarrassment.

But logic was one thing, and emotion another. Their bond was so strong that even after spending entire days glued to each other, they still couldn’t bear to part at night. Ignoring the judgmental eyes, they continued to share a bed. Sometimes she went to his quarters, and other times he came to her chamber.

At night, beneath the bed curtains, they found themselves in an intimate sanctuary where they could freely indulge in their growing passion. They kissed fervently, entwining their fingers and bodies in a desperate embrace, as if trying to claim each other’s very breath.

Yet Qi Ying always held firm to a certain line—he never crossed the final threshold.

People from noble families always valued propriety, and Qi Ying, with his rigid sense of morality, had already transgressed many boundaries in moments of uncontrollable emotion. But that final step, he resolved, would wait until their wedding night.

Three letters and six rites, a proper marriage—nothing less would do for her.

It was a commendable decision, but as the ancient saying goes, the path of virtue is difficult. Having made this resolve, Young Master Qi endured nightly trials unknown to Shen Xiling. Gradually, she began to notice that whenever he kissed her until she was dizzy and breathless, everything would suddenly stop. He would abruptly release her, turn away, and in a low, strained voice, tell her to sleep.

This left her utterly perplexed.

Still, these minor oddities at night were completely overshadowed by the blissful intimacy of their days. Shen Xiling remained thoroughly satisfied with this period of their lives and joyfully imagined that once they eloped, such heavenly days would become their everyday reality.

Midway through these fifteen days, Lady Yao paid a visit to Fenghe Garden to see Qi Ying.

This kind mother had been deeply concerned about her son, but with the Chancellor still seething in anger recently, she hadn’t dared to come. Now that his rage had begun to subside and he was starting to worry about his second son’s injuries, Lady Yao seized the opportunity to ascend Qingji Mountain.

Sitting down in the main hall, she observed that although Qi Ying’s wounds were far from healed, his mood and overall state were quite good, putting her mind at ease.

A mother knows her child best, and Lady Yao, being perceptive, soon noticed the unusual chemistry between her son and Wenwen. Their subtle exchanges—a glance, a soft smile—spoke volumes without words.

When Shen Xiling stepped out to serve tea, Lady Yao seized the moment to ask her son, “Jingchen, is there something… between you and Wenwen?”

Qi Ying’s expression shifted slightly, but he remained silent—a tacit admission.

Seeing this, how could Lady Yao fail to understand? She smiled, then revealed a look of relief.

Ah, three years ago she had already sensed her son’s special affection for the young girl. At the time, Wenwen had been too young, and their feelings somewhat ambiguous. Now that they had grown up, it seemed things had finally come to fruition.

She had worried when they had quarreled recently, but seeing that they had finally broken through that barrier, she felt a wave of relief. Her son had always been self-disciplined, reserved, and taciturn, appearing almost devoid of desires since entering public service. Now, seeing the clear joy in his eyes when he was with Wenwen, Lady Yao couldn’t help but feel happy.

Good. Finally, someone had truly brought him happiness.

Lady Yao teased him lightly, then remembered the tangled mess surrounding the princess and expressed some concern. After a pause, she said, “I’ve always liked Wenwen, but have you thought carefully about what lies ahead for the two of you? She’s a pure and innocent young girl—you mustn’t hurt her.”

Just as she finished speaking, Shen Xiling returned from outside, and Qi Ying only had time to reply, “Mother, rest assured.”

The three exchanged casual conversation for a while before Lady Yao turned to speak about the Left Chancellor.

She sighed and looked at Qi Ying. “Don’t blame your father. He cares deeply about our family and your future. He doesn’t want you to get into trouble.”

Qi Ying replied, “I understand, Mother.”

Lady Yao continued, “He lost his temper that day and struck you too harshly. Though he hasn’t said anything since, I know he regrets it. Today, he kept hinting for me to come see you, worried about your injuries.”

“Father and Mother need not worry,” Qi Ying said with a smile. “I’m almost fully recovered.”

Seeing his good complexion, Lady Yao didn’t doubt this. Turning to Shen Xiling, she chuckled, “It’s all thanks to Wenwen’s care. Otherwise, you’d have suffered greatly.”

Qi Ying responded with a laugh, while Shen Xiling flushed red.

Lady Yao didn’t stay for dinner, as she needed to return home to update the Chancellor on their son’s condition.

That evening, the Qi family gathered for dinner. During the meal, Lady Yao mentioned the matter, tactfully pretending to address her eldest son rather than the Chancellor to avoid any awkwardness.

Qi Yun played along perfectly, harmonizing with his stepmother to convey that the second brother’s injuries were improving. Seeing that his father still seemed somewhat worried, Qi Yun feigned concern and asked, “Perhaps I should visit him soon? Though his external wounds seem better, what if there’s internal damage we can’t see?”

Lady Yao, however, misunderstood, thinking her eldest son simply wanted to visit Jingchen. Knowing that Jingchen and Wenwen were currently inseparable and least desiring interruption—even she felt she was intruding—she discouraged her eldest son, saying, “You don’t need to go. Wenwen is there taking care of him. The two…”

Here, Lady Yao paused, realizing it might be inappropriate to say such things outright.

Though everyone in the family knew about Wenwen, the topic was rarely discussed openly, especially given the princess’s involvement. Speaking of it so publicly would be highly improper.

Although Lady Yao stopped herself from continuing, her meaning was clear to those who understood. Both the Chancellor and Qi Yun raised their eyebrows slightly, though neither reacted strongly. The eldest daughter-in-law even smiled, her expression conveying a “so it is” sentiment.

The most dramatic reaction came from the third son, Qi Ning, who accidentally dropped a bowl.

The loud clatter startled everyone at the table. The Chancellor immediately frowned and scolded his third son, “This is unacceptable!”

Qi Ning froze under his father’s rebuke, his face pale and trembling. Sitting beside him, Qi Le noticed his third brother’s eyes filled with disbelief—and barely contained rage.

He clenched his fists so tightly they shook!

Qi Le was baffled by his brother’s intense reaction. Before he could dwell on it further, his father called his name. Snapping back to attention, he set down his chopsticks and listened attentively.

After calling his fourth son, the Chancellor didn’t speak immediately, continuing to eat in silence. The others at the table dared not make a sound, waiting quietly for him to speak.

After a long pause, the Chancellor finally set down his utensils, wiped his hands with a cloth handed to him by a servant, and said slowly, “Today, I retrieved your examination paper from the Hanlin Academy and reviewed it. It wasn’t bad.”

Qi Le trembled with excitement upon hearing this. His father had reviewed his exam paper—and found it satisfactory? Could this mean his father intended to overturn the results determined by his second brother? Was there hope for him to enter the top tier?

Could he still marry Princess Yao’er?

Overjoyed, Qi Le struggled to contain his elation. But then his father added indifferently, “However, it was merely satisfactory. Far from excellent.”

This ambiguous statement left Qi Le uncertain whether his father truly intended to help him, leaving him stuttering in response.

The Chancellor glanced at his fourth son, handed the cloth back to the servant, and spoke sternly, “Your second brother mishandled this matter, but avoiding favoritism is a common practice. If you wish to pass under his supervision this year, you must surpass others by a wide margin. If your performance is merely average, being disqualified wouldn’t be unjust.”

The Chancellor paused before continuing, “I’ve already reprimanded your second brother. This matter is settled. From now on, don’t let this create discord between you brothers—understood?”

Qi Le was speechless.

…He understood.

Completely.

His father wasn’t helping him or comforting him. He was telling him not to blame his second brother.

His second brother had everything, lacked nothing. Meanwhile, he had nothing, striving desperately just for the princess his brother didn’t want, just to enter the mediocre third tier his brother dismissed… And still, it wasn’t enough?

His father didn’t care about his happiness or sorrow. He only cared that there be no “discord” between his sons. In the end, all his father cared about was his second brother. Whether he lived or died, rejoiced or despaired, his father didn’t give a damn.

What more could he say?

Qi Le’s eyes went blank, and he lowered his head numbly. When his father sharply repeated, “Do you understand?” he murmured softly, “…I understand.”

I finally understand.

Compared to my second brother, I am nothing.