Gu Zhixing's back was taut and straight, as if an invisible string was hidden inside his body, ready to snap at any moment due to excessive tension.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the gauze curtain, scattering like fine silver needles across the bridge of his nose, outlining a cool, silvery edge.
The golden nanmu wood of the carriage made a slight creaking sound as the carriage bumped along. The glow of the gilded lamps flickered in his eyes, like a faint flame struggling in the darkness, yet it couldn't suppress the subtle movement of his Adam's apple.
He said softly, "It really doesn't hurt."
The golden butterfly shawl on Shen Jintang's shoulder was lifted by the night wind, like golden feathers fluttering in the wind. The scent of agarwood mixed with the sweet fragrance of the girl's hair brushed past his knees, bringing a faint flutter of emotion.
She suddenly turned her head, and the pearl hairpin swept across his chin, causing a slight tickle, like willow catkins brushing against his skin in spring.
"Gu Zhixing." The pearly light made her eyes look like peach blossoms glistening with dew, and her voice was as soft as a whisper, "Do you like me?"
Amidst the tinkling of the copper bells, the boy's earlobes suddenly flushed crimson, as if someone had accidentally stained them with a blush.
He straightened his back to meet that shimmering gaze, the gold and silver dragon patterns on his waistband digging painfully into his palm.
His words were firm and resonant, like fragments of jade squeezed out from between his teeth: "Yes."
"I will marry you."
Before the last word had even finished, Shen Jintang suddenly leaned forward, her fingertips stopping just half an inch from his lapel.
Her eyes seemed to churn with a thousand layers of mist, yet her voice carried a faint hint of amusement: "Marry me?"
She found it somewhat amusing and asked, "You are the heir apparent; marriage is not a trivial matter."
Gu Zhixing suddenly grabbed her wrist as she tried to pull away, his movements as swift as catching a moth.
Beneath his pale white undergarment, his muscles were taut like a bowstring, with veins slightly bulging.
His voice carried a hint of urgency, like a trapped beast driven to the brink: "I'm not the crown prince, so there's not much resistance to whomever I marry."
His thumb unconsciously traced the red mark on her wrist, as if soothing a frightened little animal, but his tone became increasingly stubborn: "Even if it exists, it's up to us. How can I know if I don't try?"
"Gu Zhixing!" Shen Jintang suddenly withdrew her hand, the gold thread of her shawl scraping against his jade belt buckle, making a faint metallic friction sound.
She leaned back into the shadows and chuckled softly, the pearl at her temples reflecting the trembling of her eyelashes, like the wings of a startled butterfly: "You really don't know your place."
The boy suddenly lunged forward, and Chenxiang's breath filled with a misty aura.
Moonlight cascaded down like a waterfall, illuminating half of his face, half in light and half in shadow.
His voice was bloodshot, as if squeezed out from between his teeth: "So what?"
Shen Jintang's pupils contracted slightly, and he suddenly felt a weight on his knees.
Gu Zhixing actually knelt on the brocade cushion, his black python-patterned arrow sleeves intertwined with her moon-colored skirt, like ink staining new snow.
As he lowered his head, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly in the moonlight, as if he were swallowing something heavy: "Last time... doesn't count."
The final syllable faded between their touching lips.
This time it was no longer a reckless caress. He gently rubbed her lower lip with his mouth, as if he were tracing a fragile piece of porcelain, careful yet clumsy.
Shen Jintang's fingers gripped his clothes, sometimes loosening and sometimes tightening, as if grasping at the last straw, until she tasted a faint metallic flavor.
It turned out that Gu Zhixing had bitten the tip of his tongue.
"Shen Jintang..." He suddenly stepped back half an inch while panting, his jade crown tilting and revealing a few strands of messy hair.
His eyes burned with a stubborn fire, as if trying to scorch her completely: "You clearly don't know how either, you can't even breathe properly."
Shen Jintang abruptly pushed him back to his original position, her fingertips tracing his rosy lips as she chuckled softly, "You're no better than him."
A slight stirring occurred to her heart, as if someone had gently plucked a string in her heart, but she quickly suppressed her emotions.
The carriage finally arrived at the Princess's residence.
Night had fallen, and the mansion was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the night breeze.
Gu Zhixing helped Shen Jintang down from the carriage, and the two walked into the mansion side by side.
Shen Jintang's steps were steady. Although she had just experienced danger and intimacy, her emotions had already returned to calm. The moonlight tinted her eyes and brows, adding a touch of subtle tenderness.
Gu Zhixing led Shen Jintang into the bedroom, nearly knocking over a celadon vase by the door as he pushed it open.
The interior layout seemed to have changed.
Moonlight slanted through the newly moved sandalwood bookshelf, where the detective records he had casually set aside were now neatly arranged—the top shelf was "A Compilation of Criminal Cases" arranged by year, the second shelf was "A Collection of Strange Cases" categorized by trickery, and even the autopsy section, which had been used as a bookmark in "The Washing Away of Wrongs," had been reorganized.
"This is……"
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swept his fingertips across the fresh ink annotations on the spine of "The Case of the Execution of Nanping".
Shen Jintang had somehow moved closer to him, the scent of jasmine in her hair mingling with the aroma of pine soot ink: "When I was tidying up yesterday, I discovered that this book was missing the last chapter, so I added three different deductions."
The candle wick crackled and burst into sparks.
The moment she snatched "The Mystery of the Ghostly Fire" from his hand, her pinky finger brushed against the skin of his palm, burning him and sending shivers down his spine.
“Take this case under the moon—” the pages turned to a new page with a rustling sound, “Everyone was focused on the bloody footprints, but you saw through the oil lamp’s trick.”
Gu Zhixing's breath hitched.
Looking at Shen Jintang's serious analysis: "The lamp oil stain is in the seam of the third brick on the windowsill, and it's in the same location you deduced in your annotations..."
She suddenly leaned forward and pointed to a line of small print, her hair almost brushing against his throbbing temple.
The sound of the copper drain awakened something that had been fermenting in the air.
Gu Zhixing suddenly took half a step back, his lower back bumping into the multi-treasure pavilion, knocking off several jade abacus beads.
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