The early summer sun was at its peak, scorching the bluestone path in the General's mansion's back garden. Though densely shaded by the century-old locust trees, countless specks of light, like golden foil, filtered through, falling onto the stone slab where Li Xiu sat slumped. His royal blue brocade robe was stained with mud and grass, and the jade belt around his waist was tilted, threatening to slip. Most glaring was the moon-white handkerchief at his sleeve. The embroidered Chinese character for "soft" shone silver in the sunlight, like a banner of humiliation trembling in the breeze. The blood scab at the corner of his mouth, still unwiped, had congealed to a dark purple. His vacant gaze fixed on the ants nestling in the cracks of the bricks, listening to the murmurs of laughter around him. A trapped animal's gurgling gurgled from his throat, but he couldn't even muster the strength to lift a hand and wipe the sweat off his face. Not far away, Shen Ruoruo was held up by a maid, her hair disheveled like autumn grass, the rouge on half of her cheek blurred by sweat into a vague crimson, revealing the pale skin underneath. She was still muttering unconsciously: "No... It's really not..." The voice was as thin as a mosquito and was quickly swallowed up by the noisy discussions.
Liu's portly frame stood in front of Li Xiu, her handkerchief wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. The gold ring on her finger gleamed in the sunlight. She ordered the servant, "Quickly fetch Doctor Liu," while glancing sideways at the gathered ladies, attempting to hide Li Xiu's discomfiture with her body. However, the fragment of embroidered handkerchief protruding from beneath her arm only served to make it more conspicuous. "Don't look!" Her voice, rising and trembling, like a drop of water in boiling oil, instantly stirred up a greater uproar, and a few of the bravest ladies even laughed out loud.
Chen Weiwan stood under a pomegranate tree on the outskirts of the crowd, her fingertips rubbing half a melted mung bean cake. The dark green syrup trickled down her fingers, dripping onto the hem of her lilac skirt, leaving a small wet mark. Chuntao leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Miss, look at Li Xiu! He looks like a lame stray dog being chased by urchins in West Market! The second young lady is even more stunning! Her face is so white you could use it for wallpaper."
Chen Weiwan raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping across the stage. "What's the rush? The grand finale hasn't even begun yet." Before she'd finished speaking, the crisp sound of horse hooves suddenly emanated from the distance, accompanied by the guards' deliberately subdued shouts of "clearance." Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a majestic, snow-white horse, "Chasing the Wind," swerving from beneath the arch of the moon-shaped gate. Its hooves clattered against the blue bricks, a resounding "clatter" sound. The rider, wearing a gold-inlaid jade bridle, stood tall and straight like a pine tree, strikingly striking against the lush greenery of the courtyard.
Today, the Seventh Prince, Xiao Yu, wore a moon-white, dark-patterned formal attire. The hem was embroidered with fine, silver-colored sea patterns. His dark hair was tied back loosely with a matching brocade ribbon, a few strands cascading over his forehead. The tassels of his black jade belt swayed gently with the jolt of his horse. Without the imperial robes, he seemed less imposing, yet his innate nobility made the flowers and plants in the garden seem pale in comparison. His steed trampled through a patch of light in the center of the garden, and Xiao Yu dismounted with a deftness unbefitting of a prince residing in the palace. His wide, moon-white sleeves brushed the air, bringing with them a whiff of ambergris that instantly overwhelmed the surrounding odors of sweat and cosmetics.
"What's going on here?" Xiao Yu's voice was low, yet it carried an undeniable authority, like a stone dropped into a lake, instantly silencing the clamor in the room. He walked over to Li Xiu, his dark jade eyes first fixed on the dazzling embroidered handkerchief, then slowly moved upwards, scanning Li Xiu's pale face. A faint smile curved his lips, "Young Master Li, are you... sparring with Miss Shen Er?"
Li Xiu's head shot up, his cracked lips trembling as he tried to defend himself. But when he saw the coldness in Xiao Yu's eyes, he swallowed all his words back. That gaze was like a thin blade, seemingly gentle, but it precisely sliced through his disguise, reaching the evidence on his sleeve, and it froze his blood.
"Especially that move just now where she fell from the horse by hugging her waist," Xiao Yu paused deliberately, his eyes flickering over Shen Ruoruo's disheveled collar and torn skirt. "I've watched martial arts performances in the palace for twenty years, and I've never seen such a 'tender and tender' move." He drawled out his words, turning to the noble ladies around him, whose faces were flushed from stifling laughter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wang Ruohan already laughing so hard that she was holding onto her maid's shoulders. "Young Master Li's taste..." He suddenly chuckled, the sound quiet but clearly carried throughout the room. "It's quite unique."
"Puff!" Madam Hanlin couldn't hold back, her fan snapping open, but it couldn't hide the violent trembling in her shoulders. Wang Ruohan was so enraged she stumbled and nearly stepped on the skirt of a nearby maid, drawing laughter from the crowd. The snickers from the room surged like a tide, crashing across Li Xiu's pale face, making him feel even more humiliated than the loudest slap in the face.
"Your Highness, please understand!" Liu knelt down with a plop. Her plump body hit the ground with a dull thud, and the gold hairpin on her head almost fell off. "It's just a young man who accidentally fell while playing. There is absolutely no personal relationship!" She crawled on the ground, her voice filled with tears, and her nails dug deep into the cracks of the blue bricks.
"A fall?" Xiao Yu raised an eyebrow and walked over to Shen Ruoruo, who flinched in fear. He pointed at her disheveled hair and torn brocade skirt. "Second Miss Shen, your hair is disheveled and your skirt is torn. Was that also the result of a fall?" He suddenly leaned forward, his fingertips gesturing at the embroidered handkerchief at Li Xiu's sleeve. His movements were elegant yet chilling. "And this handkerchief with the word 'Rou' embroidered on it—when did Master Li become so intimate with Second Miss Shen that he even kept her name embroidered handkerchief close to his body?"
These words struck Li Xiu like a hammer, hammering down on his heart. He felt a surge of blood, his vision instantly blackened, and he spat out a mouthful of blood, splattering on the bluestone like a red plum blossom blooming in the snow. He finally understood that the Seventh Prince wasn't questioning him; he was clearly using a blunt knife to repeatedly cut into his wounds, crushing the last shred of his dignity.
Shen Weiwan, hiding behind a pomegranate tree, watched the scene unfold, her heart clenched with delight, her fingertips unconsciously clenching the hem of her skirt. She had never imagined the Seventh Prince would suddenly appear, much less that he would, with a few words, nail Li Xiu and Shen Ruorou to the pillar of shame. As she pondered this, she felt a gaze fall upon her. Looking up, she saw Xiao Yu looking in her direction, his dark pupils clearly reflecting her reflection, a faint smile playing on his lips. Shen Weiwan's heart skipped a beat, and she hurriedly lowered her head to adjust the hem of her skirt. Her fingertips accidentally snagged the dragon-patterned jade pendant at her waist, the cool touch bringing her some composure.
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