The fine rain, like silk threads, stained the bluestone pavement a dark color, as if draping this ancient street in a hazy veil.
As soon as the carriage stopped, Shen Jintang couldn't wait to lift the curtain and walk out.
As soon as her embroidered shoes touched the damp ground, she felt a chill on her back. It was because Gu Zhixing's gaze had turned cold instantly, as if a deep pool of water had been swept by a cold wind, rippling with layers of coldness.
Why are you walking so fast?
Gu Zhixing's voice carried a hint of languor, yet it exuded an undeniable seriousness.
The oil-paper umbrella suddenly opened above her head, casting a shadow of bamboo ribs onto the beaded flowers at her temples, as if gilding her hair ornaments with a light ink-like hue.
His sleeve, carrying the scent of pine ink, brushed against her ear. Although he could have maintained a proper distance, he deliberately made her clearly feel the caress of every inch of the fabric. That subtle touch seemed to silently proclaim an indescribable possessiveness.
Shen Jintang didn't stop walking, but her pace slowed down imperceptibly. She frowned slightly, her tone tinged with urgency: "I have a feeling something's not right. I have to go ask."
Her voice sounded particularly clear and cold in the rain, as if it had been washed clean by the drizzle.
"The wedding was arranged two months ago. No matter how anxious you are now, it won't change that fact." Gu Zhixing suddenly took half a step forward, and the umbrella completely blocked out the rain, trapping her in a small space.
His fingertips brushed lightly against the back of her hand, the touch as light as a feather, yet enough to make Shen Jintang's heart tremble slightly.
He leaned close to her ear, his voice low and hoarse, with a hint of threat: "Last time you were sick and bedridden for over a month. If you're not careful this time and catch a cold from the rain, I won't let you off the hook."
Raindrops wove a silver curtain along the edge of the umbrella. Shen Jintang looked at the shop's entrance just three steps away and reached out to take the umbrella handle, but the other man gently pressed her wrist down with the fan bone.
Although the fan ribs were light, they carried an irresistible power, as if silently telling her that all her actions were under his control.
"I can do it myself, so don't get wet." Shen Jintang's voice carried a hint of helplessness, yet also a touch of stubbornness.
She noticed that Gu Zhixing had tilted the umbrella quite a bit towards her, and his other shoulder was a little wet. The damp fabric clung to his skin, making him look exceptionally thin.
"Don't move." Gu Zhixing's voice held a smile, but that smile was like frost hanging on the corner of his mouth, cold and dangerous.
His breath ruffled the stray hairs behind her ears, which trembled slightly in the rain, like thoughts scattered by the wind.
"It's only a few steps, it's no problem." His tone was full of affection.
Shen Jintang glanced at him, a complex expression flashing in her eyes.
She walks in the rain and it's a big deal, but he says it's just a few steps. He can always justify himself no matter what.
But Shen Jintang didn't take it too seriously, because she found that Gu Zhixing had become unusually clingy after she returned to the capital. He wanted to stick to her all the time, like a little dog who was anxious and insecure, but also had a bit of domineering and possessiveness, as if she would disappear completely if he let her go.
Let's go.
Shen Jintang sighed softly, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the dark patterns on her cuffs, feeling utterly helpless.
She knew Gu Zhixing's stubborn nature all too well, and there was no point in saying anything more, so she quickened her pace—every moment she lingered, the rain stains on his shoulders would deepen.
She could clearly see the raindrops seeping through his clothes, gradually wetting his skin, but he didn't care at all, just holding her tightly.
Upon hearing this, a smile spread across Gu Zhixing's eyes, a smile like a warm ray of sunshine in winter, yet carrying a hint of domineering.
The umbrella tilted slightly more towards her, as if all his attention was focused on her, and everything around him was irrelevant.
The arm around her shoulder tightened slightly, and the warmth of his palm through the brocade fabric conveyed an irresistible temperature: "I'll listen to you."
His voice was hoarse and gritty, as if it had been mellowed by the passage of time, and his pace quickened to match hers.
"Miss, His Highness the Crown Prince."
The servant hurriedly pushed open the carved door, startling the copper bells under the eaves, which jingled loudly, the sound particularly clear in the rain.
The servant led the two into the inner room. As soon as they entered, Shen Jintang saw Shen Youyi sitting helplessly in a chair, looking lost and dejected, like a fledgling bird drenched by wind and rain.
Shen Jintang found it strange. She had only encountered robbers before, and she should have seen many such robbers in her travels. Why was she so frightened?
"sister--"
A tearful cry suddenly pierced the ambiguity.
Shen Youyi, like a startled sparrow, rushed into Shen Jintang's arms, her arms tightly wrapped around her waist, causing the string of pearl necklaces to rustle.
Shen Jintang stiffened. She had never liked being close to people, but at this moment she could clearly feel the girl's pounding heart beneath her thin back, a heartbeat that seemed to tell of her inner fear.
After hesitating for a moment, Shen Jintang finally raised her hand and touched Shen Youyi's back, only to find that her inner garment was soaked with cold sweat: "It's alright."
He gently stroked the trembling back with his fingertips, comforting her, "They were just robbers. It's good that they're alright. As for the goods, there are plenty of ways to get them back for you."
Her voice was gentle yet firm, as if she were soothing a frightened little animal.
"It's not cargo!"
Shen Youyi suddenly looked up, tears rolling down her trembling eyelashes and soaking the lotus pattern embroidered on Shen Jintang's clothes.
Her voice was almost shrill, as if she was eager to confess something, or as if she was terrified to the extreme, and could only clutch Shen Jintang's sleeve tightly, as if it were the only piece of driftwood.
Before the words were finished, a tall, slender figure had already cut in.
Gu Zhixing gripped Shen Jintang's waist with one hand, his strength both heavy and steady, pulling her away from Shen Youyi's shackles with no room for resistance.
His palms rested on her lower back, the warmth seeping through the thin fabric into her skin like a silent declaration.
"Miss Chen."
His deep voice was tinged with coldness as his gaze slowly fell on Shen Youyi's fingers, which were still clutching the hem of Shen Jintang's clothes. His lips curled slightly, but the smile did not reach his eyes.
“Use more force,” he slowly raised his hand, his knuckles gently flicking away Shen Youyi’s fingers, the movement as elegant as brushing away a fallen leaf, yet exuding an unyielding dominance, “Why don’t you just strangle her?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the room fell silent.
Shen Youyi's face turned slightly pale, and her fingertips curled up unconsciously, as if she had been burned and pulled her hand back.
Her voice lowered, tinged with grievance and panic: "Sister, I...I didn't mean to."
Shen Jintang grabbed Gu Zhixing's wrist with her backhand, pressing her nails against his taut wrist bone as a warning, but he didn't move an inch, even lowering his head slightly, a smile on his lips, but his eyes were cold and intimidating.
No matter who she is, no matter if she's frightened or hurt Shen Jintang, it's unacceptable.
His bottom line has always been so clear.
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