CXD - 11

Unsure which remark had upset the person, the individual in front suddenly turned gloomy, their gaze colder than the biting wind of this snowy night.

“Hmm...” Jiang Zhiyi trembled as she hugged her arms and hesitated, looking at him tentatively. “Is that somewhat troublesome?”

Yuan Ce tilted his head; before he could utter “What do you think?”—

“True, it’s rare for us to have the chance to be alone in the same room, so it’s better not to have anyone disturb us... I don’t need anyone else to take care of me. Having Brother Ce is enough!”

“...”

Yuan Ce’s expression seemed too lazy to even appear gloomy. Without a word, he turned and walked inside.

Qing Song looked at his master who had given up, then at the Princess who wasn’t embarrassed but was making others uncomfortable: “What does Master mean by this...”

Jiang Zhiyi glanced at Qing Song, who lacked tact, and stepped over the threshold into the house, tossing her bundle from her shoulder.

Qing Song barely caught the bundle and hurried after her with an umbrella.

He chased the Princess, who in turn chased the Master. As they went, she looked around, finding everything new and fascinating. When she wanted to take another look, she realized she had fallen far behind and had to lift her skirt and scurry along.

After much haste, they entered the courtyard and reached the study. Just as Jiang Zhiyi was about to follow him inside, she eagerly raised her boot tip, only to get a face full of the slammed door with a loud “slam.”

Jiang Zhiyi stumbled back a couple of steps, raised her sleeve to shield herself, blinked slowly at the closed door in front of her, and gradually shifted her gaze to the half-open window nearby.

Just as she was about to go to the window to ask—

Click, the window shut.

Jiang Zhiyi’s face fell, her brows drooping.

What on earth did he mean?

Half an incense stick later, in the eastern wing of the western chamber, Jiang Zhiyi sat silently on a stool, tightly pursing her lips as she looked at the few maidservants standing in front of her.

The study was clearly lit, and he hadn’t rested, yet he left her in this shabby side room and sent a group of maids to deal with her.

This side room was bare, with only a canopy bed, a round table, and a few stools. There wasn’t even a comfortable place to lean back...

Doesn’t he realize, if she truly needed a place to stay, there were quarters reserved for her in the palace where she could have anything? Isn’t she here for him?

After enduring the cold wind all night, her hands and feet were stiff. Coming indoors, she found the hard stool uncomfortable. Both physically and emotionally distressed, Jiang Zhiyi grew increasingly irritated and abruptly stood up.

The approaching maid met this wave of resentment and was startled, retreating hastily.

Everyone knew that Princess Yongying and their master didn’t get along. Even when their arguments were intense, given her status as a princess, she would never lower herself to confront him directly.

But now, three years later, with the border conflicts resolved, why were their disputes escalating? Why did she come to argue with him in the middle of a snowy night?

And why did he let her stay overnight? Did he think they’d continue arguing once they woke up?

The maids nervously exchanged glances. After some hesitation, the leading maid lowered her head and offered a bowl of tea: “...Princess, it’s bitterly cold. Have some ginger soup to warm yourself!”

Jiang Zhiyi, still fuming, glanced sideways at the tea: “Is this ginger ‘soup’?”

The maid nodded timidly: “Yes, Your Highness.”

“The ginger paste is all mushy. Why didn’t he just have someone cook porridge?” Jiang Zhiyi stomped her foot angrily towards the window. “Do they think I’m one of those rough men from the military camp?”

The maid’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly apologized, retreating to clarify the ginger paste, signaling the other maids with her eyes.

Another maid took a deep breath, stepped forward, and suggested: “Princess, perhaps you can hold this hand warmer to keep warm...”

Jiang Zhiyi turned back, surprised and amused by the suggestion: “Keep warm? Without even a velvet bag wrapped around it, doesn’t he know we delicate ladies have sensitive skin? Is this meant to warm me or burn me?”

“N-no, it’s my oversight...” The maid looked around nervously for help.

Jiang Zhiyi followed her gaze, observing the items held by the other maids—

“These towels are so coarse, aren’t they afraid of irritating my face...”

“This comb’s teeth are so sharp, are they meant to prick my scalp?”

“This wooden basin has such a strong wood smell, and the water too—it smells like plain water… He never used to treat me so perfunctorily!”

“...”

Was he really like that?

The maids trembled, holding the items without daring to speak.

They had long served in the eastern wing of the Shen residence and never attended to a female mistress. They didn’t understand the finer details, especially since the master hadn’t required their service since returning from the border. Now, they rarely even saw him, let alone gain worldly knowledge. How could they know water shouldn’t smell like water, and wood shouldn’t smell like wood...

But judging from the Princess’s words, did the master know?

“Y-your Highness, please forgive us... What kind of towel, water, comb would you like? We will note them down and fetch them...”

“What’s the use of your notes?” Jiang Zhiyi cast a melancholic glance towards the window. “He still doesn’t care about my preferences!”

“Then... should we report what you want to the master first, then fetch them?”

The maid timidly proposed. Seeing Jiang Zhiyi blink and her expression soften slightly, it seemed she finally decided to grant their master a chance. She reluctantly lifted her chin: “I’ll say it once, listen carefully.”

“Report to the master that the Princess finds our service inadequate. She says—” The maid exited the chamber, fearing forgetting, rushed into the study, and began reporting: “For wiping her face, she only uses silk cloths, for combs, only sandalwood, for fine-toothed combs, only ivory, for washing hands and face, no copper basins—only jade ones, for bathing, not wooden tubs but large pools spacious enough for swimming...”

From above, Yuan Ce, holding a book, incredulously raised his head: “Is she planning to bathe or swim?”

Seeing the weighty pressure in their master’s eyes, the maid steeled herself and continued: “Not only that, the Princess said her face-washing water must be odorless spring water, snowmelt in snowy days, rainwater during rainy days, and morning dew in sunny days...”

Yuan Ce turned his head towards the heavy snowflakes outside and smiled absurdly: “To wash her face, should preparations begin a day in advance?”

“Uh... the Princess also said that during her bath, flower essence must be added to the bathwater, and the flowers used must be freshly picked on the third day of the third month during the Shangsi Festival...”

“To bathe, should preparations start a year in advance?”

The maid shivered, too scared to continue.

In the ensuing silence, a knock suddenly sounded.

Another maid rushed in, also struggling to remember everything, bypassing formalities and blurting out at the door: “Reporting to the master, the Princess has added several more requests. After washing hands, she needs hand cream from Xiangxue Pavilion, after washing face, facial cream from Liufang Pavilion, and after bathing, nail polish from Linglong Studio...”

Yuan Ce slowly turned his gaze.

The maid, feeling scrutinized, started to close the door when another called out, “Wait, wait,” gasping for breath as she squeezed forward: “Reporting to the master, the Princess says the room is too dry, causing her face pain. She wants a water wheel like the one in Yaoguang Pavilion, and the room has an old, stale smell, requiring an incense burner. The formula for the incense is...”

A loud “bang” echoed as Yuan Ce slammed his book onto the desk.

Even during the most urgent moments of frontline military reports, there had never been such a flurry of urgent demands.

No wonder the dowry maids had to enter early. Without at least a year or two of preparation, how could they possibly cater to such a demanding person!

The maids collectively bowed their heads: “Master, please calm your anger. The Princess has shown mercy, saying if these things can’t be prepared, she isn’t unwilling to stay here, as long as—”

Yuan Ce: “?”

“You go to the room... to accompany her...”

“...”

Yuan Ce tugged at his collar, pointing towards the western chamber: “Tell her my Shen household is impoverished, unable to indulge her whims. Whether she stays or leaves, she may decide for herself.”

Late into the night, the wind and snow ceased. The bedroom was silent, save for the occasional creak of tree branches weighed down by thick snow.

Yet, the quieter it became, the more the buzzing female voice lingered in his ears, refusing to dissipate—

Hand cream, facial cream, morning dew...

Bath pool, flower essence, ivory comb...

Incense burner, water wheel, go to the room...

After an indeterminate time, the murmuring finally faded to the back of his mind. Yuan Ce lay quietly on the bed, drifting into sleep—

Suddenly, a crack resounded, like a branch succumbing to the weight, breaking in two.

Yuan Ce abruptly opened his eyes, pricking up his ears. He heard deliberately light footsteps approaching the door.

Yuan Ce threw off the thin blanket, noiselessly slipped out of bed, took the dagger from under the bed frame, and moved to the door.

A shadow draped in a cloak loomed on the door. The figure appeared rather robust.

The shadow stealthily approached the door, then suddenly stopped, looking around cautiously.

Yuan Ce stood quietly behind the door, narrowing his eyes.

Even dying takes this long.

Today, Jiang Zhiyi had exhausted his dwindling patience. Yuan Ce gently stretched his neck, sheathed his dagger, and grabbed the sword from the nearby rack.

It had been a while since the sword tasted blood.

The person outside pushed on the door panels—

Yuan Ce held the sword horizontally, one hand pulling the bolt.

The person outside stumbled forward, losing balance.

A woman’s startled cry rang out, and Yuan Ce’s gaze sharpened. The blade against the intruder’s throat suddenly shifted, pushing the hilt and swiftly sheathing the sword.

At the same time, a gust of fragrant wind wafted in, and the person tripped over the threshold, stumbling inside.

Yuan Ce caught the person, his temples throbbing visibly. He looked down.

The person in his arms was wrapped in two quilts from head to toe like a dumpling, only a pale face exposed, muttering fearfully: “Scared me to death, scared me to death...”

“...What are you doing awake in the middle of the night?” Yuan Ce gritted his teeth as he released her.

Jiang Zhiyi, recovering from her fright, looked up to see his undisguised impatience. She tightened the quilts around her and pouted at him: “Well, I have to be able to sleep to sleep...”

Yuan Ce frowned, puzzled: “Why can’t you sleep? Is it because you’ve turned my courtyard upside down and feel guilty?”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded, lowering her eyes: “Yes, Brother Ce, I must apologize for this.”

Yuan Ce’s furrowed brows relaxed slightly.

“Complaining about this and that in your house being unsatisfactory was nitpicking on my part. Making so many impossible overnight demands was excessive, and threatening to have you accompany me in the room if you couldn’t fulfill them was indeed inappropriate...”

Yuan Ce, holding the sword and crossing his arms, watched her leisurely: “The Princess understands well.”

“But...” Jiang Zhiyi bit her lower lip, looking up mournfully, “But your charcoal is truly not warming at all—!”

“...”

“The charcoal has a strong scent, and after burning for so long, it emits smoke but no warmth. The room is as cold as an ice cellar, truly unfit for sleeping... I swear, this time it’s not me being overly critical, Brother Ce, your home...” Jiang Zhiyi held up three fingers dramatically, separating yours and mine so distinctly would only make people feel disheartened, “Our home’s coal-buying servant must have been deceived by unscrupulous vendors!”

“............”

Yuan Ce opened his mouth, then closed it, glaring at Jiang Zhiyi’s incessant chatter.

Jiang Zhiyi looked back hopefully: “Since you refuse to let my maids enter the house, can you at least come and take care of me? Perhaps your presence will warm me up...”

Yuan Ce, suppressing his anger, slowly exhaled: “Qing, Song—”

From the rear building, Qing Song rushed out, disheveled: “What does the master command?”

Yuan Ce pointed at Jiang Zhiyi: “Bring her two dowry maids to me...”

“Yes, I’ll go right away...” Qing Song turned and ran a few steps before stopping abruptly, “Ah???”

“...”

Yuan Ce closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and repeated: “Invite her two maids to come over!”