Extra 6. Pei Xueqing × Shen Yuance - Zhuang Zhou Dreaming of a Butterfly (3)

A light rain had just passed, leaving the lake shrouded in a misty haze. The pavilion sat amidst the white fog, blurred and indistinct.

Inside the pavilion, Pei Xueqing waited until Shen Yuance drew closer before noticing the mud smeared across half his body. She quickly pulled him inside, anxiously examining his forearm. “What happened? How did you manage to fall?”

“I was riding too fast,” he said with a casual shrug. “Who knew the road would be so slippery after the rain… what’s that phrase again? The horse lost its footing?”

“You didn’t have to rush,” Pei Xueqing replied, her brows furrowed as she guided him to sit on the balustrade. “Take your time.”

Shen Yuance tilted his head back to look at her. “This is supposed to be the last time. I couldn’t let Miss Pei wait too long.”

“What’s wrong with waiting a little? It’s not like I’m doing anything strenuous here…” But as she spoke, fresh blood began seeping from the edges of the scab, trickling down his forearm. Hurriedly, she retrieved some antiseptic from her medical kit and began cleaning the wound. “Bear with the pain for a moment.”

“Why does it look like you’re the one enduring the pain?” Shen Yuance observed her expression closely.

Only then did she realize she had unconsciously bitten down on her lower lip.

“Of course I’m enduring it—it hurts just looking at you,” Pei Xueqing said. One hand steadied his wrist while the other dabbed at the blood on his arm with a cotton swab. Without thinking, she leaned down and gently blew on the wound. Suddenly, she felt his arm stiffen, and the usually slouching figure slowly straightened up.

She hadn’t thought much of it at first, but then she realized how overly familiar her actions had been. Startled, she quickly released his hand.

Shen Yuance awkwardly rubbed at his robe. “It doesn’t hurt much, but it seems I’ll need your care for a little while longer.”

Pei Xueqing discreetly rubbed her palm against her skirt. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have picked such a rainy day—you’ve suffered because of me.”

“It’s not all bad,” he replied lightly. “Once I’m healed, there won’t be any more wounds for you to treat. If I take longer to recover, you can practice on me a bit more.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? A healer doesn’t wish for their patient to recover slowly.”

“So you’re hoping I get better soon? Then this beautiful place will belong to you alone?”

Caught off guard by his words, Pei Xueqing hesitated, meeting his dark, unwavering gaze. She wasn’t sure if he meant something deeper, but an inexplicable tension filled her chest.

“…Of course I hope you get better soon,” she stammered, lowering her eyes and focusing on treating the wound. After carefully inspecting the edges of the scab, she reassured him, “Fortunately, it’s not serious. A few days of rest should do the trick.”

“Not serious? Just a few days and I’ll be fine?” Shen Yuance asked in mock surprise.

Pei Xueqing paused at his tone. “Do you want to stay injured longer?”

Shen Yuance stretched out his legs and glanced around the pavilion. “I think this place brings me luck. Every time I leave here, my gambling streak improves. Maybe staying injured a little longer could bring even more blessings.”

In recent days, he had grown softer around her, but whenever he wanted to conceal something, he reverted to this aloof, flippant demeanor.

A sudden suspicion arose in Pei Xueqing’s mind. She looked down at the muddy stains on his robe and blinked, probing gently: “When you fell off the horse, did you hurt anywhere else besides your arm?”

“If I did, it wouldn’t be convenient to show you.”

“In the eyes of a healer, there’s no distinction between male and female. If you’re injured, I’ll apply medicine to it as well.”

“I’m fine,” Shen Yuance muttered, averting his gaze.

When someone falls, it’s natural to use their hands to brace themselves. Yet avoiding harm is also instinctive. His injury had been healing for some time now, and he should have been accustomed to protecting his fragile arm. If there were any other part of his body he could rely on, surely this arm wouldn’t have borne the brunt of the impact. Even if he had to use this arm, he would likely subconsciously favor his palm or elbow over his forearm. So why had the wound reopened exactly where it was most vulnerable?

Pei Xueqing stared at his evasive eyes, her heart pounding as a wild thought formed in her mind. But almost immediately, she dismissed it as absurd, suppressing the strange flutter in her chest.

It was like encountering a burning ember—she dared not touch it. Forcing herself to stop overthinking, she ultimately refrained from voicing her suspicions.

After finishing the treatment that day, Shen Yuance lingered in the pavilion for half the afternoon. Before leaving, he asked when he should return next. As usual, she gave him another date.

What she had thought would be the final visit wasn’t the end after all. Though she had hoped for his quick recovery, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief.

The next time he came, Shen Yuance brought along a scroll of military strategy. After she examined his wound and opened her medical text, he sat across from her, reading quietly.

“Why the sudden idea to bring military books here?” she asked curiously.

“Well, I’ve got nothing better to do. You’re always buried in your medical books, and me sitting here cracking jokes might not quite match up to Miss Pei’s standards, right?”

“Standards?” Her heart fluttered as though tickled by a soft feather, making her feel light-headed. She hesitated before asking, “Where don’t you measure up…?”

“Then—do I measure up?” Shen Yuance’s eyes held a hint of testing curiosity.

Flustered by his gaze, Pei Xueqing quickly changed the subject. “Studying military strategy is a good thing. You should focus on reading here.”

Shen Yuance let her deflect the conversation. “Actually, my father says that reading too many military texts can make one overthink during real combat, leading to hesitation and overly cautious tactics. But since I’m stuck in Chang’an without any chance for actual battles, these books are as close as I can get to the battlefield.”

She saw the faint sigh of unfulfilled ambition in his eyes and thoughtfully consoled him: “Every army needs both bold risk-takers and cautious strategists to balance each other out. How could reading ever be useless?”

“My father said something similar once. At first, he didn’t support my obsession with military texts. But later, he seemed to change his mind, saying it wasn’t so bad after all. If I’m more cautious and conservative, it might balance well with someone else—maybe one of the deputy generals, though I’m not sure who he meant.”

“And here I am, living a life of luxury without having to endure hardship at the border. Am I being ungrateful by complaining?” Shen Yuance spoke as if momentarily forgetting the frustration of being held hostage in the capital. “If I were really enduring daily beatings and harsh training at the frontier like in my dreams, I might not even have any ambitions for serving the nation.”

Pei Xueqing smiled gently. “Everything has two sides. There’s nothing wrong with the present.”

He nodded thoughtfully at her words and lowered his head back to his book.

Contrary to his reputation as a wayward youth, Shen Yuance read military strategy with intense focus. When deeply engrossed, he didn’t even notice her stealing glances at him. He would occasionally furrow his brows in deep thought or suddenly brighten with realization, his expressions mirroring his inner thoughts without reservation.

Pei Xueqing realized that while he might still hide parts of himself around her, he was completely honest when it came to military texts.

The scion of a military family, trapped within the confines of this four-walled city yet yearning for the battlefield, poured all his sincerity into these books that brought him closest to war.

Like her with her medical texts, he annotated his military scrolls, jotting down his reflections, insights, and musings. Though his handwriting was atrocious—like chicken scratches—he dismissed it carelessly: “I don’t have the energy to waste on things that don’t matter. As long as it’s legible, that’s good enough.”

They shared the same inkstone, often reading their respective books in companionable silence. Occasionally, when they grew weary, they’d stretch their necks, meet each other’s gaze, and exchange a few casual words.

After several more visits, Shen Yuance’s wound truly could no longer be “prolonged.”

His injury had long since healed to the point where she no longer needed to change his bandages. As a healer, there was nothing left for her to do but take a quick glance each time. At first, he would always ask casually before leaving, “When shall we meet next?” She would oblige by giving him another date. But now, the scab was nearly gone, and the thin veil of pretense was wearing too thin to sustain any further excuses.

That day, as they sat in the pavilion reading their books, the distant rumble of thunder suddenly echoed through the air. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, signaling an approaching storm. Pei Xueqing glanced at the sky and said, “It’s going to rain soon. You’ll get soaked riding your horse. You should head back early.”

Shen Yuance followed her gaze out the window and asked, “Then when shall we meet next for the check-up?”

Amidst the rolling thunder, she knew this accidental arrangement had reached its inevitable end.

Even if they dragged it out further, the scab would eventually fall off anyway.

Pei Xueqing hesitated for a moment, then gently looked at his arm through his sleeve. “There’s no need for me to check your wound anymore.”

“Mm,” Shen Yuance responded, closing his military scroll. His expression seemed unusually subdued.

“Be careful on your way back,” she said sternly, forcing a serious tone. “I don’t want to treat any more injuries because you fell again.”

“Mm.”

“If you want—” Pei Xueqing mustered her courage and took a deep breath. “We can still read books together.”

“What?” Shen Yuance raised his eyes to look at her.

Pei Xueqing smiled. “No more wound checks. But we can continue reading. Every time, I’ve been the one setting the dates. When would you like to come here next to read?”

Shen Yuance stared at her for a long moment. “You’re letting me decide?”

Pei Xueqing nodded.

“Tomorrow,” Shen Yuance blurted out without hesitation. “I want to read tomorrow.”

From the croaking of frogs in spring to the chirping of cicadas in summer, the time spent in the pavilion felt like fragments of a kaleidoscope—colorful and fleeting, scattered across otherwise unremarkable days. Each fragment shimmered with a dreamlike brilliance.

Pei Xueqing and Shen Yuance would meet at the pavilion every few days or once every ten days. One came as a medic gathering herbs, the other as a reckless young noble riding his horse wild through the streets. No one knew that these two, who seemed to have nothing in common, were spending countless sunny and rainy days together in this secluded haven. They exchanged words endlessly, read scrolls upon scrolls, their conversations flowing like an endless stream.

There were also a few encounters outside the pavilion, always at banquets hosted by the capital’s elite. At these gatherings, they sat separately—one among the men, the other among the women—eating their meals or chatting with those beside them. Occasionally, their eyes would meet from afar, a fleeting connection before they both looked away, as if they remained worlds apart.

Before, Pei Xueqing rarely left her home, venturing out only to visit the clinic or gather herbs on the mountain. Yet over the past six months, she had begun frequently accepting invitations to these aristocratic gatherings.

Every time she attended, Shen Yuance would be there as well. Sometimes, watching him loudly proclaiming those annoying remarks or performing embarrassing antics in public—acts so unlike his true self—she couldn’t help but stifle a laugh from the corner of the room.

Shen Yuance’s sharp eyes always caught her. No matter how far away or inconspicuous her hiding spot, his gaze invariably found her.

The next time they met at the pavilion, he would “reprimand” her, asking why she found it amusing.

She answered honestly: “If I didn’t know your true nature, I might dislike you just like everyone else.”

“And now that you do?” he pressed, intrigued.

“Now that I do, I naturally don’t dislike you.”

“Just ‘don’t dislike’? Pei Xueqing, even when you encounter thieves, you don’t dislike them. Who could possibly earn your dislike? If disliking someone ranks last, then merely not disliking someone must rank second-to-last.”

He was referring to an incident that had occurred on one of her outings.

That day, after picking up medicine from the clinic, she spotted a street vendor selling sugar figurines and decided to buy one. While waiting for the vendor to craft it, her purse was stolen in the bustling crowd.

Fortunately, the vendor noticed the thief behind her and shouted for help. Startled, the young thief grabbed her purse and fled.

Some kind-hearted passersby chased after him, but the thief was quick on his feet, darting through the crowd too fast for anyone to catch.

In the end, a flowerpot fell from above, landing just in front of the thief’s feet. Startled, he tripped and fell, allowing the crowd to apprehend him.

People on the street looked up, but no one saw anyone at the nearby tavern’s window. They assumed the wind had knocked the pot down—a stroke of divine justice.

With the lesson learned and her purse recovered, she decided against reporting the incident to the authorities. Seeing that the boy was injured, she took him to the clinic, where a physician treated his wounds. Later, she helped him find honest work, urging him to abandon his thievery.

That day, her sugar figurine remained uneaten.

It wasn’t until their next meeting at the pavilion that she discovered the truth—when Shen Yuance presented her with a beautifully crafted sugar figurine. Heaven was busy, unable to constantly dispense justice or keep watch over her every move. The one who had been quietly watching over her all along was none other than the ever-anonymous Young Master Shen.

Perhaps realizing her fondness for sweets, that day Shen Yuance also brought her a refreshing bowl of iced milk dessert.

Seeing him drenched in sweat from galloping his horse to ensure the ice didn’t melt, she hesitated for a long moment, reluctant to dampen his enthusiasm.

Her maid, Zhuyue, chimed in to explain: “Miss can’t eat anything made with cow’s milk—it causes rashes and makes it hard for her to breathe.”

“Well, good thing you told me earlier,” Shen Yuance said casually, showing no sign of disappointment. He simply ate the dessert himself.

Later, during the sweltering summer days, whenever he visited the pavilion, he brought various cooling items—bamboo blinds for shade, blocks of ice that exuded cold air, and containers of chilled sweet drinks—but never again anything made with cow’s milk.

Such a person, regarded by the world as a troublesome misfit, remembered every detail about her and treated her with such thoughtfulness. How could he evoke merely “not dislike” in her heart?

Under his persistent questioning, she smiled silently and lowered her head to her book, ignoring his playful teasing.

As summer wore on, it became harder to justify frequent herb-gathering trips. They reduced their meetings to once every ten days, still convening at the pavilion.

Even so, Pei Xueqing noticed that her older brother had begun to suspect something unusual about her recent activities. Several times, he probed gently, asking what medical texts she had been studying and whether her herb-collecting outings had been fruitful.

Lately, she truly had been reading a great deal, and Shen Yuance, with nothing better to do, had occasionally helped her gather medicinal herbs. She showed her brother the books filled with her annotations and the stored herbs, which temporarily assuaged his suspicions.

Thankfully, her brother trusted her judgment. Even if doubts lingered, he respected her enough not to investigate or follow her.

One day at the pavilion, she mentioned this to Shen Yuance, intending it as idle chatter. But to her surprise, he grew serious and asked, “What would happen if your family found out you often meet me here?”

She paused, considering the question, unable to answer immediately.

Though her parents and brother were relatively open-minded—they supported her aspiration to study medicine and respectfully declined marriage proposals on her behalf—they still adhered to traditional propriety regarding interactions between men and women.

In their eyes, these meetings would undoubtedly be viewed as improper clandestine encounters. Even if the man were a universally praised gentleman, they would object. Given Shen Yuance’s reputation, they would likely harbor deep prejudices against him and forbid any further contact between them.

Shen Yuance read the answer in her silence and sighed. “I’m starting to regret this.”

Pei Xueqing’s heart sank. Hesitant, she slowly raised her eyes to look at him.

Did he regret associating with her?

“We’re just here to exchange ideas through books. I know we haven’t overstepped any boundaries, so there’s no reason to feel guilty. If my family finds out, I’ll explain everything clearly. I won’t let you be scolded by my father, nor will I implicate General Shen or Lady Shen.”

“What are you thinking about?” Shen Yuance chuckled, looking at her amusedly. “I meant that I regret pretending to be a spoiled brat.”

Pei Xueqing was momentarily taken aback.

“With my reputation in ruins like this, how can I possibly win the approval of someone like your father? Will it be harder for me to find a wife in the future? When other people arrange marriages, they just need the matchmaker to exaggerate wildly. But if it were me trying to arrange one, even my own matchmaker couldn’t lie with a straight face. No matter how much they praised me—even if heavenly peaches fell from the sky—it wouldn’t make a difference, would it?” Shen Yuance muttered as he gazed up at the sky, deep in thought.

Hearing the underlying meaning in his words, and seeing the seriousness in his expression despite his playful tone, Pei Xueqing’s heart raced. Her face grew hot as she picked up a cup of cold tea to drink.

At that exact moment, Zhuyue suddenly rushed in, panic-stricken: “Miss, something’s wrong! Young Master is heading this way!”

The teacup trembled in her hand, spilling the tea. Pei Xueqing stood up abruptly, alarmed. “Is Brother coming to catch me?”

“No, not exactly. The young master is here with some friends, resting nearby. They noticed your carriage and realized you were here. He’s on his way now.”

So there was still some room to maneuver—but with her brother already on his way, that room was shrinking rapidly.

Truly, as the saying goes: Don’t talk about ghosts at night or people during the day…

Pei Xueqing nervously locked eyes with Shen Yuance. “Since Brother already knows I’m here, the only option is for you to leave. If he catches us together, not even jumping into this lake could clear our names.”

The pavilion was surrounded by water on three sides, with only a single wooden bridge serving as both entrance and exit.

Shen Yuance glanced at the long bridge, already faintly hearing the voices of the approaching group. “If I leave now, won’t I still be caught by Pei Zisong?”

Pei Xueqing realized the same thing and anxiously asked, “Then what should we do?”

Shen Yuance pointed to the military scroll on the table. “The thirty-sixth stratagem, the twenty-first tactic—shedding the golden cicada’s shell.”

Before Pei Xueqing could fully process his words, in the blink of an eye, Shen Yuance swiftly removed his heavy belt and jade pendant, handing them to her. “Hide my ‘shell.’”

With that, he turned around, pushed open the window of the pavilion, stepped onto the windowsill, and leapt gracefully into the lake below.