FYM - 61

… He really did protect her well.

With one hand, he firmly held the reins to keep Zhuo Ying from misbehaving, while with the other, he gently supported her as she mounted the horse. His palm was warm and dry, yet she had started to sweat slightly. By the time she sat on the horse’s back, her face had flushed red again—only then did she realize how easily she could feel shy.

“It’s alright,” he thought she was afraid and reassured her in a gentle tone. “I’ll hold the reins for you.”

She knew it would be fine. Upon reflection, ever since they met, they had already faced life-and-death situations twice together. Each time, he had protected her so well that she came to believe everything would be alright as long as he was by her side. But now, she had gradually learned to act coquettishly. At this moment, Zhuo Ying’s constant restless tail flicking made her feel a little uneasy, so she quietly complained to him: “… Its temper is truly terrible.”

This sounded like she was tattling, and her tone was endearing, causing him to smile faintly. As he calmed Zhuo Ying and led the horse forward, his response carried a hint of laughter: “It is a bit bad-tempered. Zi Qiu once fell off its back.”

Upon hearing this, Song Shu Yan blinked, and this time she was genuinely a little frightened. How could a delicate lady raised in seclusion compare to Song’s second young master, a man trained in martial arts? If she were to fall too, then…

“I, I think I’d better get down…” Her face paled slightly, and her voice grew softer. “This is just too…”

Before she could finish, she heard him chuckle—a low sound that sent a slight tremor through her heart. The next moment, the horse neighed sharply, and the wind seemed to pick up as he swiftly mounted the horse. His right hand still firmly held the reins, while his left gently encircled her waist. His warm breath brushed against her ear as he asked, “Are you scared even now?”

She: “… “

Truthfully, this wasn’t the first time he had held her like this—they had experienced something similar over a year ago at Lishan Mountain. But back then, the tension between them was palpable; she had thought he intended to kill her, so naturally, she remained constantly on edge without any romantic thoughts. Now that their relationship had deepened, it felt entirely different. With her lover’s embrace behind her, she felt, for the first time, truly enveloped by him.

He originally didn’t have any ulterior motives, but after asking her and receiving only silence, he noticed her cheeks and earlobes growing increasingly pink, as if inviting admiration. Her soft, defenseless body lingered in his arms, inevitably stirring… a flutter in his heart.

He couldn’t help but cough softly, loosening his grip around her waist slightly. Then he said, “G-getting down might be better…”

… Even he, who rarely stumbled over words, faltered slightly.

But she still didn’t speak, only slowly turning her head to look at him. Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes glistened as though veiled by a misty haze, and the affection hidden beneath her gaze stirred his heart. The next moment, she averted her eyes again, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. Her body leaned back slightly—truly…

… resting against his chest.

At that moment, his breathing became erratic. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and she heard his heartbeat quicken into disorder. Amidst the passionate restlessness, she felt an even deeper sweetness. Everything he gave her was perfect, leaving her unsure of what more she could possibly desire.

He wouldn’t ask again. The left hand that had been about to withdraw now tightened around her once more. Lowering his head, he noticed the white jade comb she wore in her hair today—the very one he had gifted her yesterday. In that instant, he wanted to kiss her, but years of aristocratic upbringing prevented him from treating his future wife-to-be with such casual intimacy. Instead, she felt his hand at her waist repeatedly loosening and tightening, while the faint warmth of his breath near her ear grew hotter.

… Her bones melted.

In truth, she wasn’t incapable of riding a horse, and Zhuo Ying’s temperament wasn’t as terrible as she had complained. Yet that day, she continued leaning against his chest on the horse, not exerting any effort herself, as if she needed him to hold her tightly to stay seated.

When dismounting, she also required him to lift her down. Her hands softly encircled his neck, and in silence, she acted coquettishly, indulging in her own whims. He wasn’t entirely blameless either—though he had already helped her down from the horse, he hesitated to let go. Enchanted by her subtle fragrance, he only pulled her closer.

Zhuo Ying wandered off to graze in the distance, while the two of them sat silently under the tree for a long time, embracing each other. Their restrained closeness left them craving more. At one point, Song Shu Yan even thought that if she could spend her entire life by his side, it would be wonderful.

“… What are you thinking about?”

His voice was softer than the occasional breeze rustling through the mountains. The languid twilight of spring indeed felt far more enchanting than the biting cold nights of winter.

She leaned softly against his shoulder, her fingertips tingling. Even lifting her hand felt laborious, yet she couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his left hand, which was so close to her—she didn’t know when they had become so intimate. A little over a year ago, he had seemed so distant, yet now, it felt as though he was within reach.

“I’m looking at your hand…”

She answered vaguely, her voice as muddled as her thoughts.

After hearing her response, he chuckled softly, then gently enclosed her hand in his palm and asked, “What about it?”

She felt a slight warmth near her forehead, unable to discern whether it was his breath or a fleeting kiss. Her fingers tingled even more, and in her flustered state, she tried to steady herself by playing a small game—quietly extending her hand to compare its size with his. His hand was nearly two finger joints longer than hers.

He laughed again, likely finding her childish. After letting her play for a while, he enveloped her small hand once more, adjusting his posture slightly. He told her, “… It’s best not to do this.”

She was unaware that he had already been moved by her. Though she didn’t fully understand his words at the time, being held by him still felt incredibly comforting. She softly nuzzled against him, quieting down obediently for a while.

“I can read palms a little…”

After a moment, she spoke again, her presence becoming livelier by his side.

“… Shall I read yours too?”

He raised an eyebrow, seeming somewhat intrigued. “Palm reading?”

She nodded, her eyes curving into a proud smile as she sat up straighter in his embrace. Extending her small hand, she began explaining: “The hand is divided into eight trigrams and twelve palaces. The trigrams represent external influences, while the twelve palaces reflect changes in familial relationships. Additionally, finger length, hand temperature, shape, color, and the three talents’ lines all carry significance. There’s quite a bit to consider…”

She spoke earnestly and with great seriousness, but all he could focus on was how utterly endearing she looked at that moment. While her beauty had always been unforgettable—like a delicate willow swaying beside blossoms—what he cherished most was the brightness in her eyes now, her joy and tranquility making him feel a rare sense of happiness and ease.

“Oh…” He nodded along cooperatively. “Is that so?”

But she felt dismissed and was somewhat dissatisfied, pursing her lips as she looked at him with a hint of defiance. She then raised her right hand again to argue her case: “I really do know a bit…”

“Look—my thumb is slender, and my index finger slightly curved, which indicates low readings in both Qián and Kǎn trigrams. People with such palms often have shallow ties with their parents. That’s why my mother passed away early, and my relationship with my father is also…”

She had intended to prove her skill, but as she spoke, she suddenly felt uneasy. After all, they had been enjoying a relaxed atmosphere, and bringing up such topics seemed to dampen the mood.

She stuttered to a halt, no longer continuing. However, he had already understood her thoughts. Though he didn’t know the full extent of her childhood hardships, it wasn’t hard to imagine the difficulties she had faced. Just a year ago, she hadn’t even been allowed to keep a simple painted screen. Now, regarding marriage—the most significant matter for a woman—she had nearly been hastily married off by her stepmother. It seemed that the inner workings of the Song family were much like those of other noble households he knew: calm on the surface but rife with hidden turmoil beneath.

A pang of pain welled up in his heart, and the next moment, she felt herself being held even tighter. His broad, warm embrace gave her an unprecedented sense of security and comfort.

“What about marriage?” she heard him ask. “What will your future husband be like?”

His question made her laugh, though she knew it was meant to comfort her. Still, waves of sweetness flooded her heart. When she looked up at him, her beautiful eyes curved like crescent moons at the beginning of the month. She then lowered her head solemnly to examine her hand again before replying earnestly, “Soft palms, with a full base beneath the ring finger… I suppose… I will have a good marriage.”

He smiled too, the small mole at the corner of his right eye exuding charm. His gaze upon her was deeper than ever before. Finally, she received a tender, cherished kiss—softly, gently… landing on her brow.

“Shu Yan…” he whispered in her ear at that moment. “… I will definitely treat you well.”

As a military officer from a family of warriors, he wasn’t prone to the eloquent words of scholarly officials. Even Wang Xu of Xuancheng could pen elegant love poems to win women’s hearts, whereas he could only muster a simple “I will treat you well.” But the way he called her name—with such gravity, tenderness, restraint, and sincerity—made her feel as though she was no longer the “drifting weed” her grandmother had once described her as. She had roots now, planted in someone’s arms, destined to entwine with him for life.

Just a few words brought tears to her eyes. Though she hadn’t cried in ages, in his presence, she became unusually sentimental. He seemed a little flustered too, watching her reddening eyes without knowing what to say. The next moment, she reached out and tightly embraced him, abandoning all pretenses of noble decorum. Only then did she realize just how deeply she had fallen for him.

“Third Brother…”

Her voice trembled as she called out to him, her tone careful and hesitant. Perhaps she had never been truly cherished, so she had always been overly reserved and understanding. Her grandmother had cared for her, but she was never truly part of the Qiao family. Her second brother had looked after her too, but even he couldn’t fully shield her from her father and stepmother. She had always had to tread carefully, calculating every move. Even now, she feared that showing too much emotion might burden him, causing him to leave her once again.

He didn’t fully grasp the complexities of her heart at that moment, but it didn’t stop him from feeling an increasing sense of compassion and tenderness for the girl in his arms. One hand remained tightly wrapped around her, while the other gently patted her frail back. They clung to each other in silence, and after a long while, her tense body finally began to relax. Still, she remained nestled in his embrace, refusing to raise her head for a long time.

He felt a bit helpless and leaned down to gently kiss her forehead. This time, she seemed to flinch slightly, her earlobes quietly turning red again. He affectionately reached out to gently pinch her ear and asked, “Didn’t you say earlier that you wanted to read my palm? … Are you not going to do it now?”