Shen Xiabai caught her wrist instead, his eyes dark and unfathomable. “Wrong. Call me Shen the lover.”
“You bastard.” Cui Yunchu craned her neck and talked back.
Shen Xiabai pushed her by the waist, pressing her against the carriage wall. “Asking for a lesson, are we? I’ll give you one chance. Say it again.”
“Say what?” Cui Yunchu teased him on purpose.
“Say Shen the lover.” He gripped her waist, pressing his head against hers.
Cui Yunchu chuckled. “Well, that depends on whether your silver can hold out—and how long you can keep playing the lover.”
Shen Xiabai’s other hand clamped around her chin, forcing her to look at him. “A Chu, you really are something else.”
“Haven’t you always known that?” Cui Yunchu said.
Shen Xiabai stared at her, about to bite down again, but Cui Yunchu refused. “I’ve made enough silver today. If you want a kiss, go find your nun at Anshan Temple.”
She got up to leave, but the man crouching on the ground scooped her up and pulled her back into his arms. “A Chu, I can afford the hairpin. I’ll buy you many, many more.”
Cui Yunchu froze for a moment, her voice catching before she said, “That hairpin… means something different to me.”
“I know,” Shen Xiabai said. “What I meant is the gold hairpin on your head. We can have plenty of those. Next time, don’t cry.”
A hairpin’s worth wasn’t enough to make her break down, to crouch on the street and wail at the top of her lungs.
He could hardly describe the feeling when he heard her cry, saw her squatting on the ground, looking around helplessly as she wept—as if someone were squeezing his heart so hard he couldn’t breathe.
Cui Yunchu turned her head with a half-smile. “Don’t worry. The only things that can make me cry are gold and jewels. If you ever die, I definitely won’t cry that hard.”
As soon as she said it, her waist suddenly stung, and she bared her teeth with a hiss.
Shen Xiabai narrowed his eyes. “You can be sure of this too. If that day ever comes, I’ll take you with me—together, down to the Yellow Springs.”
Cui Yunchu curled her lip, pushed him away, and moved to leave, but her wrist was caught again.
“What exactly do you want?”
Shen Xiabai rose, then sat back down, tilting his head up to look at the standing Cui Yunchu, one hand pressing against her waist. “Our little affair is practically public knowledge now. When do I get a title?”
Cui Yunchu flinched like his warmth burned her and immediately wrenched free. “Talking nonsense like you’re still half asleep. Let go, I need to go home.”
“Still crying?” Shen Xiabai’s grip was firm; lightly restraining her, and Cui Yunchu couldn’t shake loose.
Cui Yunchu said, “I’m done crying. I won’t give you a title. You can keep crying yourself.”
“Give me one reason.” Shen Xiabai narrowed his eyes, that handsome face dimming slightly, the emotion in his gaze suddenly reminding Cui Yunchu of herself facing Cui Qingyuan at Chuyuan that day.
That same look—humble, almost pleading.
She froze for a brief moment.
She never thought she’d see such a look in Minister Shen’s eyes.
“The old man won’t agree.”
Shen Xiabai snorted lightly. “So just because he won’t agree, you’ll do as he says and marry someone else?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Cui Yunchu said, perfectly shameless. “Easy for you to say—you’re not the one being punished to kneel in the freezing cold of deep winter.”
“…”
“Though honestly, it’s strange. You’re pretty capable in court. Why would he give up the chance to turn the two families’ enmity into alliance, to bring strength to the Cui and Tang households?”
Cui Yunchu furrowed her brows.
Shen Xiabai opened his mouth as if to speak, but gazing at her, he ultimately said nothing. “Who knows.”
His face darkened, his words laced with endless bitterness.
The closer he got to her, the more Shen Xiabai understood her weaknesses—like conscience, that thing she could very well do without, since she’d never reaped any benefit from having it.
But he still didn’t want her to know, to feel that instant dead silence of heartbreak, even if that expression would only appear on her gorgeous face for a single moment.
Always abandoned. Forever discarded.
That old man—how dare he be worthy of A Chu calling him father?
He frowned, slightly lost in thought, and Cui Yunchu took the chance to slip away from his grip. “If you find the hairpin, please send it back to my manor.”
Shen Xiabai lifted the carriage curtain, watching her retreating figure, not pulling his gaze away for a long time.
Her hair was still loose, blowing in the wind.
Her low moods always came quickly and left just as fast, as if the woman who had just crouched on the street, bawling her eyes out, wasn’t her at all.
If she were in the Shen manor, no one would dare bully her like that.
“A Chu… do you really have to have the Cui family?”
“Master.” Yu Feng had just returned when he caught that soft, lingering “A Chu,” and every hair on his body stood on end.
Even the young master and the old madam never got that treatment. He’d followed his master for nearly twenty years and still hadn’t earned a single “Ah Feng.”
No, it was still his full name, and occasionally a few strokes of the board.
Truly, you can’t judge a person by appearances, and you can’t measure favoritism with a ruler.
“Prime Minister Cui is so partial—why don’t you just tell Miss Cui directly?”
The figure finally disappeared. Shen Xiabai withdrew his gaze, lowering his eyes and saying nothing.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was that he didn’t dare.
He could sense that her interactions with him always carried a hint of caution and wariness.
The way she looked at him wasn’t the same as the way he looked at her. She had never fallen for him—that seemed to be true.
He was afraid that even knowing everything, she would still choose the Cui family.
A long silence settled in the carriage. For the first time, Shen Xiabai felt that he was a coward.
Yu Feng let out a long sigh.
He had watched his master struggle desperately in the web Elder Miss Cui had woven.
From not being able to accept it, to choosing between hatred and the eldest Miss Cui.
To others, the time his master spent in prison might have just been a footnote—he hadn’t even suffered torture. But Yu Feng knew that those days were worse than death for his master.
Like a black carp trapped in a net—unable to break free, yet unable to let go.
In the end, his master chose to leave the water and throw himself forward without hesitation.
If only he were the eldest Miss Cui, at least he could hold his master, comfort him a little.
Yu Feng looked at Shen Xiabai in the carriage—head slightly bowed, back curved, arms resting on his knees—and his heart ached.
His master’s entire life had never been smooth.
That old fox from the Cui family—his master had yielded this much for the eldest Miss Cui’s sake, and the old man still didn’t know what was good for him.
“Master…” Yu Feng wanted to suggest that if it really came down to it, he should do what Prince An did back then. Forget being a gentleman—as long as you achieved your goal, that was what mattered.
Sure, it would be a bit rough around the edges, but it was still better than letting the Cui family hold them by the tail and push them around.
Shen Xiabai lifted his eyes slightly and looked at Yu Feng.
Meeting his master’s gaze, Yu Feng swallowed the words he was about to say.
Then he remembered how Princess An had poisoned Prince An and then stabbed him with a hairpin.
His master had even gone to deliver pastries and watch the show, hadn’t he?
Prince An’s state was worse than miserable. Even now, he was still getting kicked out of his own manor from time to time, left to sleep on the streets.
A prince of the realm, sleeping on the streets!!!
His master had already suffered enough. Besides, Princess An was simple and easygoing. If it were the eldest Miss Cui, there probably wouldn’t even be a chance for his master to get treatment.
Yu Feng shook his head, dismissing his own suggestion.
He didn’t want to see his master suffer the same miserable fate, for his master had already endured enough hardship as it was.
