Chapter 8: Which Part Offended You?

Xiao Yan had originally sent Li Yu to deliver the medicine.

But lying on his bed, the moment he thought of the girl in Yue Li Palace, sleep eluded him completely.

He slipped out without a sound and made his way straight to Yue Li Palace.

At the bedside, Sang Zhi was hugging her pillow, her breathing slow and deep. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she slept like a defenseless little animal.

Moonlight filtered through the window gauze, scattering broken light across her delicate, snow-white skin.

Xiao Yan stood there, his gaze heavy and dark, tracing every inch of her sleeping face.

She was so soft, so light—barely any flesh on her bones, her frame surprisingly small.

With just a bit of pressure from his fingertip, he could sink into that tender, fine skin.

In Xiao Yan's pitch-black eyes, something close to obsession churned.

He waited a long while.

Then slowly, he leaned down. His fingertip brushed gently across her cheek, his voice so low it was barely audible.

"Zhi Zhi, you belong only to your brother..."

The skin beneath his finger was impossibly tender. Xiao Yan's breathing grew heavier.

His gaze fell on her slightly swollen lips—that vivid red shimmering with an enticing wetness under the moonlight.

His Adam's apple bobbed. Xiao Yan's voice came out hoarse and deadly. "Let your brother have a taste, hm?"

The room fell utterly silent, save for the shallow breathing of the girl on the bed.

He let out a low chuckle, laced with a sick kind of doting. "No answer? Then I'll take that as a yes."

He leaned down and kissed her lips.

Unlike yesterday's roughness, this was gentle and restrained.

Only when he felt the uneasy tremble of the one in his arms did Xiao Yan reluctantly pull away.

"Zhi Zhi." He rubbed her reddened lips, the darkness in his eyes impossible to dissolve. "You were the one who provoked me first."

"You're mine. Mine alone."

The door clicked softly shut again. On the bed, the girl unconsciously burrowed deeper into the covers.

Outside, the man held a piece of soft, silky inner garment she had worn. A satisfied, dangerous smile curved at the corner of his mouth.

He turned, his cold eyes landing on the palace maid kneeling on the floor in blue robes. "Take good care of your mistress. There is no need to mention the marriage alliance again."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Yuan Bao, prostrate on the ground, answered with deference.

*

When Sang Zhi woke, her throat felt like it was on fire—dry and sore.

She sat up blearily and only then noticed her lips were bright red, a little swollen, and even chapped in one small spot.

Strange. Had summer really come? Were there actually bugs biting her?

Sang Zhi didn't think much of it and rang the bell beside her bed.

With a creak, the door was gently pushed open.

Dou Bao, Yuan Bao, and two other personal maids filed in.

Behind them came junior palace maids carrying copper basins, towels, and jewelry boxes.

After washing up, Sang Zhi changed into a goose-yellow brocade dress with floral trim and applied a thin layer of rouge.

She used the rouge to cover the love bites on her collarbone, and only then was she done.

She had risen early today, heading to lessons at the hour of Chen.

The palace walls rose tall and imposing, their upturned eaves like the wings of phoenixes.

Copper bells hung from the eaves, swaying in the wind and chiming clear and crisp.

Sang Zhi and Mu Yao walked ahead, their maids carrying book bags behind them.

The two chatted and laughed as they reached the gate of the Imperial Academy.

Under a pear tree ahead, the Fifth Princess, Xiao Wanzhu, stood bright and lovely, surrounded by a few girls in equally fine attire.

Spotting Sang Zhi from a distance, one of the noble ladies let out a deliberate gasp. "Your Highness, look! The Little Princess Consort actually dares to wear the same color as you."

The speaker was Su Wan'er, legitimate daughter of the Minister of Personnel and the Empress's own niece, who came to the palace daily as a study companion.

Xiao Wanzhu followed her gaze.

On the palace path, Mu Yao wore a purple floral skirt—steady and dignified—while Sang Zhi was in a goose-yellow ruqun, soft and adorable.

As she walked, the tassels of her hair ornament swayed, brushing against her fair neck.

Xiao Wanzhu glanced at her, eyelids drooping with lingering drowsiness, and gave a cold snort.

"She's wearing goose yellow. I'm wearing imperial yellow. What's there to compare?"

Su Wan'er opened her mouth to say more, but the Fifth Princess lifted her chin and turned away, her skirt hem rippling.

She had no intention of going over to make trouble for Sang Zhi.

Su Wan'er's fingers tightened around her embroidered handkerchief. Deep resentment burned in her eyes as she watched the girl.

Why?

An orphan with no parents, yet raised at her aunt's knee, enjoying every luxury.

Even her cousin the Crown Prince showed her obvious favor and doting.

And Sang Zhi—she played the part so well, innocent and kind, as if she cared nothing for the world. It had gotten even the Fifth Princess, who used to have plenty of complaints about her, to stop bullying her much.

Su Wan'er sneered inwardly. It didn't matter. Once she became Crown Princess, she would surely live better than Sang Zhi.

On the other side, Sang Zhi had things on her mind and never noticed Su Wan'er's venomous, hateful stare.

Grand Tutor Sang—her grandfather—had left a family precept: the men of the Sang family do not take concubines, and the husbands of Sang daughters may not take concubines either.

And Xiao Yan would never marry just one woman.

Before the Summer Hunt, if she could get the second branch of the Sang family to find her grandfather's handwritten letter, this marriage could surely be called off.

—

Inside the Imperial Academy, the noble ladies, led by the Fifth Princess, sat in the front rows.

Mu Yao and Sang Zhi—two hopeless students—preferred to hole up in the very last row and cause trouble.

The moment they sat down, Mu Yao indeed sneakily slid a novel into Sang Zhi's hands. "Zhi Zhi, let's read together."

Sang Zhi's gaze landed on the title printed on the cover, and her brow twitched.

She tossed it back like a hot potato.

"I'm not reading that!"

The title was absolutely thunderous—something like *The Crown Prince Imprisons Me in the Eastern Palace: Nightly Music in the Study.*

Sang Zhi nearly jumped out of her skin, remembering that night—how Xiao Yan had turned her over and over in the dark.

And eaten...

Goosebumps broke out all over her.

Mu Yao stared at her blankly. "Don't you usually love reading novels the most?"

A mischievous grin crept onto her face. "Is it because Master Shen is teaching today, and you're scared of getting scolded?"

The Imperial Academy's usual instructor was Grand Tutor Shen—nearly fifty, rigid, and stern.

But recently the old tutor had fallen ill, and his eldest son, Shen Qingci, had taken over his duties.

Shen Qingci was young and accomplished, striking in appearance—just a bit cold in temperament.

Just then, Shen Qingci stepped into the hall, scrolls and lecture notes in hand.

He wore a wide-sleeved robe of moon white, standing tall as bamboo, restrained and courteous, carrying the bearing of a true gentleman.

Several of the study companions blushed, their hearts fluttering.

On any other day, after not seeing him for several days, Sang Zhi might have secretly sighed over how handsome he was.

But right now, she had not a shred of appreciation to spare.

Because Shen Qingci wasn't just any pretty face—he was the devoted second male lead in the book.

Toward Sang Zhi, he was vicious. For the female lead's sake, he had even gone to the Eastern Palace's water dungeon himself to release rats to bite her!

Who would have guessed that such a modest gentleman could be so cruel?

By accident, she raised her eyes and met those warm, peach-blossom eyes.

Sang Zhi yanked her gaze away and hurriedly lowered her head, pretending to flip through the pages.

Standing by the desk, Shen Qingci's fingers tightened slightly around his lecture notes.

She had looked at him just now.

Those eyes were clear as water, as if they gathered the spirit of the world itself. Her skin was white as jade, her lips glowing with a moist luster.

Something seemed to bump gently against Shen Qingci's heart.

The tips of his ears burned hot in an instant.

The Little Princess Consort—she was truly beautiful.