“…”
Shen Xiabai’s face darkened. “Cui Yunchu, is this really the time for that?”
“Let me go. I need to get down and see who’s ‘ah’ing.” Cui Yunchu tilted her head away, lowering it slightly as she struggled vigorously.
Shen Xiabai tightened his grip on her waist. “What if I refuse?”
Cui Yunchu felt like her waist was about to snap.
“If you keep pinching me, I’ll ‘ah’ too, and then your reputation, Lord Shen, will be ruined tonight.” She spoke as if issuing a threat, but Shen Xiabai raised an eyebrow.
“It doesn’t matter. My reputation hasn’t already been destroyed by you?” He used his other hand to grip her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Cui Yunchu couldn’t break free and had no choice but to face his eyes, her panic and nervousness fully exposed.
Shen Xiabai curled his lip. “Eldest Miss Cui’s acting is impeccable. I almost thought you truly weren’t flustered.”
“You’re insane,” Cui Yunchu cursed. “Let me go.”
She struggled, and he tightened his arms. “Earlier on Nan Street Bridge, weren’t you pretending quite well? Hm?”
“Why stop now? Keep up the act—play deaf and dumb, blind and heartless, as if you know nothing.”
“…”
Cui Yunchu fell silent, then after a moment said, “If Lord Shen wants to watch me perform, then let me go, and I’ll keep acting for you.”
Sitting on his lap, she couldn’t play her part.
Shen Xiabai snorted coldly. “Your expressions can’t be faked. Since you don’t care, what difference does the stage make? Perform right here.”
“…”
The hand on her waist felt like a branding iron, burning so hot that Cui Yunchu’s entire body went stiff.
That “ah” never escaped her lips—someone else had shouted it for her—and her heart pounded wildly.
“…It’s… it’s like when a corrupt, lecherous scoundrel forces himself on a virtuous woman. Even she can’t help but grunt a little. I’m human, not a plant or a tree. How can I act like this?”
…
Shen Xiabai knew her mouth could never produce anything decent, but he was still stunned by her analogy.
Was this something a proper girl from a noble family should say?
Even he blushed hearing it.
“Cui Yunchu, stop talking nonsense.” He squeezed her cheek hard.
Her red lips pursed because of his force.
Cui Yunchu’s face flushed crimson, and she shook her head left and right but couldn’t shake him off. “Let go.”
Shen Xiabai didn’t move, so Cui Yunchu began to thrash wildly.
Shen Xiabai’s back slammed hard against the carriage wall, producing a muffled grunt, yet he still didn’t release his grip.
“Cui Yunchu, wasn’t it you who said you wanted fireworks to bloom for you?”
He had carefully orchestrated them for her, and she called them boring.
Shen Xiabai hadn’t wanted to say it, but dealing with such a heartless woman made him feel that sulking alone would slowly kill him.
“I didn’t,” Cui Yunchu said. “I don’t like them.”
“Then what do you like?” Shen Xiabai’s expression darkened. “This heap of junk in the carriage?”
“This isn’t junk; it’s my birthday gift.”
Cui Yunchu suddenly raised her voice. Shen Xiabai froze at her words and released her cheek.
“Today is your birthday too?”
Cui Yunchu kept hissing, “My face is sore.”
Shen Xiabai rubbed it gently with his thumb. “Better?”
Cui Yunchu’s spine stiffened, her mind repeatedly short-circuiting today.
Her lovely face bore an expression she couldn’t name.
She had never imagined Shen Xiabai could be like this.
She had never expected that they’d go from being at each other’s throats to her sitting on his lap, all within the span of Gu Xuan’s death—as if they’d been walking a long path, only reaching one-third before leaping straight to the finish.
Cui Yunchu had even thought he should hate her, or that from the day he got out of prison, he’d come after her with a sword seeking revenge.
After all, if the emperor could not do without him, causing Gu Xuan’s death would have otherwise demanded his life.
“Shen Xiabai,” Cui Yunchu said, a rare sincerity in her eyes. “Don’t you hate me? Didn’t those seventy lashes hurt? Don’t you want revenge?”
Shen Xiabai acted as if he hadn’t heard. “You said earlier, today is your birthday?”
“If the emperor couldn’t protect you, did you ever think you might die?”
Shen Xiabai pressed on. “Today—is it your birthday?”
Cui Yunchu was equally stubborn. “Aren’t you afraid there’ll be a next time?”
She pushed at his hand, but he tightened his hold, unyielding. Cui Yunchu clenched her teeth. “Are you really not afraid of death?”
“Can you guarantee you’ll escape safely every time? What about your father and brother? Aren’t you avenging them? My surname is Cui.”
Shen Xiabai gazed into her eyes, silent for a long moment.
Cui Yunchu looked back at him, a faint mockery in her eyes.
That mockery was glaring, laced with deep derision.
After a while, Shen Xiabai lowered his gaze and laughed softly. “Eldest Miss Cui, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Have I ever said anything clearly?”
Cui Yunchu was stunned.
Yes. He had never plainly expressed his feelings, never demanded anything of her, never said he wanted to be together or marry her—so she didn’t even have grounds to refuse.
He never said he liked her, and so she never had the chance to say no.
“Whether I fear death, whether my fate is unyielding—why don’t you find out for yourself?” Shen Xiabai stared at her, his eyes dark and deep as an abyss, impossible to read.
As for her bearing the Cui name…
If she followed him, her surname would be Shen.
His sharp, hard features stood out vividly in the dim candlelight. Cui Yunchu was so close to him, his flawless presence rattled her mind.
He was handsome, striking, alluring—and she had tasted it, found it lethal.
Her throat moved as she looked away. “Lord Shen, don’t try to seduce me. What tempts me is only silver and gold. I’m not after good looks.”
“Is that so?” Shen Xiabai chuckled softly. “That’s what I once said too.”
He had said those tricks were useless on him. He had said he wasn’t swayed by beauty. He had said he would never marry a daughter of the Cui-Tang clan.
The panic in Cui Yunchu’s heart had gradually subsided, and by now, she couldn’t tell what she was feeling.
Facing Shen Xiabai’s piercing gaze and unguarded darkness, she changed the subject. “Today isn’t my birthday, but it can be.”
“Every birthday I’ve had has been different. When I was little, every time I remembered to ask my concubine mother, she said it would be soon. The date depended on when I asked.”
Her mind was never really on her.
Maybe at first she remembered, but as the years passed, she forgot.
Cui Yunchu tilted her head and smiled lightly. “Lord Shen, do you want to give me a birthday gift? If so, then today can be my birthday.”
After all, her birthdays were just excuses for presents.
Shen Xiabai pressed his lips together, watching the unconcerned smile on her face, which oddly overlapped with the forced cheerfulness he’d glimpsed in the Cui manor.
It doesn’t matter if you like me or not—I’m already born, and can’t be stuffed back.
Any day can be my birthday, as long as I get a gift.
“When was your birthday last year?” Shen Xiabai asked quietly after a long pause.
“I can’t quite remember. I think it was ten days after Yunfeng’s birthday.” Cui Yunchu shrugged it off.
Shen Xiabai slowly released his grip, and Cui Yunchu immediately rose from him, holding the luminous pearl in her hand with evident delight, playing with it.
"It's getting late, Lord Shen. You should hurry back. I need to return to sleep as well," Cui Yunchu urged.
Clutching the luminous pearl, she beamed cheerfully. "If anything like this comes up again, don’t hesitate to call on me."
She was all smiles.
But it seemed that every time she said something that cut deeply, she was always laughing.
