Chapter 70: Favored Concubine? I can compete for your favor.
He withdrew his hand and placed the two cups of tea side by side. Moonlight and water vapor swirled around his fingertips like an elusive dream.
"It's my fault," he whispered, his voice dampened by the moisture. "I always make Miss Qing angry."
"Shen Yansheng," she gritted her teeth, "you are really...very good."
But he didn't look happy. Those peach blossom eyes, always shimmering with spring water, now seemed washed by steam, drained of all color. Only a deep, almost empty silence remained. There wasn't a trace of triumph in his words.
Qing Guiyu's rage was suppressed by his appearance, and the curse he wanted to say was still on the tip of his tongue.
She walked over quickly, snatched the teacup from his hand, and slammed it heavily on the stone table.
"Do you think I really have no solution?" She had to say this, otherwise she would be suffocated to death.
"If I overturn your table right now, do you think my senior brother will turn around and kill you, the Master of Tianji Pavilion? The lives of the people of Yuzhou City are important, but the safety of my senior brother is not."
However, Chen Juansheng just shook his head, and his beautiful peach blossom eyes swayed in the mist in the courtyard, creating a few ripples.
"He'll be fine," he said softly. "Brother Lu has a clear mind. The waterways are managed by the Tianji Pavilion, so there won't be any trouble along the way. His journey should be smooth."
"Do you think I trust you again?" Qing Guiyu took a step forward, supporting himself on the stone table. "Chen Juansheng, you and my senior brother have fought for your lives many times, and now you're pretending to care about his life. When did you become so kind and stop wanting to kill him?"
Shen Juansheng's gaze slid from her slightly raised eyebrows to her lips which were pursed in anger, and finally, fell back on her pair of bright eyes.
"I didn't care about it before." He lowered his eyes and looked at the golden thread wrapped around his fingertips. The thread was shining with a cool luster under the misty moonlight.
"Whether Lu Guiyan is dead or alive is just the difference between having one more person or one less person by Miss Qing's side. Of course, having one less person is much better."
"But today at the Sword Tomb, I suddenly..." He paused, his voice lowered, "I was afraid that Miss Qing would hate me."
So I care.
Qing Guiyu was stunned by what he said.
What is this? A sign of weakness? Or another, more sophisticated calculation?
Her mind raced with thoughts. This Young Master Jin Sheng probably knew that she would respond to soft tactics and not to tough ones.
What can I say? Was he right?
She looked at him, the moonlight and mist staining his elegant features. His overly handsome face, in the hazy light and shadow, seemed unreal. The fresh wound on his arm, stained with blood, cast a dark shadow on his black robe, strangely blending with his current expression.
What a rare talent.
She thought, if there was a poll to choose the most troublesome bastard in the world, he would be ranked second, and no one would dare to compete for the first place.
I had no choice but to turn around, sit down on the stone bench, pick up the cup of slightly cold ginger tea, and take a sip.
Seeing that she stopped talking, Chen Juansheng also remained silent and pushed the other cup of tea closer to her.
"I really don't understand, Shen Tianji," she finally couldn't help herself and pushed the other cup of tea back to him.
"You're truly... a failure. With such talent for manipulating people's hearts and minds, yet you don't even think about becoming a noble or a prime minister, or achieving great things. Instead, you're just being jealous and using all your cunning and tactical tactics on a single girl. And you're wasting your time with a traveling doctor like me every day. You're truly losing out."
Shen Juansheng lowered his head and stared at the teacup, as if he was really thinking.
"Miss Qing," he finally spoke, his voice very soft and calm, "I was imprisoned in the Cold Pond Prison at the age of four and practiced the Cold Marrow Technique."
Qing Guiyu paused.
"It's cold and quiet there. No one comes, and no one leaves. Every day, I just watch the small patch of skylight above my head, which changes from bright to dark, and then back to bright again. I've read all the books in the Tianji Pavilion. I find the tricks and schemes fascinating and have deduced them countless times."
He raised his eyes and looked at her. Under the warm water, the ice in his beautiful eyes was less, revealing pupils like a cold pond underneath, reflecting her slightly frowned brows.
"After I got out, I found that the world and human hearts were nothing but a bigger cage."
He smiled softly, a smile that was somewhat indifferent and sad. He stretched out his uninjured hand, and with his fingertips, he vaguely traced a tiny area on the table.
"I've lived alone for so many years, with only three feet of land. When I die, I'll only need one coffin to bury my bones."
He leaned over, his dark hair flowing from his hands.
"Miss Qing, what do I need the world and power for? They can neither give me pain nor cure my cold."
The fingertips became colder and colder, Qing Guiyu was frightened and suddenly retracted his hand.
But Chen Juansheng didn't let go. He just looked at her with those beautiful yet cruel eyes, and told her his strange yet subtle thoughts, bit by bit.
"So, using those means that I don't care about in exchange for what I want is the best deal for me."
Imprisoning the heaven and earth, and hating the mountains and rivers.
It's not that he didn't understand the value of this strategy, but to him, the strategy was indeed the cheapest chip in the hands of a child who had already grown tired of playing with it.
The courtyard was dead silent, with only the gurgling sound of hot spring water and the intertwining heartbeats.
Qing Guiyu was stunned by these unorthodox remarks and couldn't find a word to refute them for a long time.
This man first trampled on all the moral principles of the world, then picked up the pieces that suited his taste the most and pieced together his own absurd yet indestructible logic.
She just felt angry and amused, and finally she really laughed helplessly and put down the teacup in her hand.
"Alright, alright," she raised her hand in begging for mercy, pointing to his still bleeding arm. "Come here, let me take a look at your wound. I'll save you from dying here. If something really happens in Yuzhou, it will be my fault."
Shen Juansheng nodded obediently, came over seriously, and sat down on the stone bench beside her.
Qing Guiyu expressionlessly untied his blood-soaked black robe. However, Shen Juansheng subconsciously shrank back and raised his hand to cover his arm.
"Don't move." She slapped his hand away angrily. "If you keep bleeding, I won't have that much good medicine to waste on you."
Shen Jiansheng finally lowered his hands, allowing her to untie his robe. The outer robe slipped off, revealing a white undershirt stained with blood. The wound on his left arm wasn't deep, but for some reason, it had torn again, looking horrifying.
Qing Guiyu took out the gold wound medicine powder and a clean cloth, but his hands paused.
She frowned and stared at his shirt that was tightly attached to his body, especially the area around his heart that he subconsciously protected with his right hand.
"Take it off." She said simply.
Shen Juansheng's body stiffened visibly.
"Miss Qing," he looked at her in embarrassment, a faint blush rising on his pale face, "The wound...the wound is on the arm."
"I know." Qing Guiyu crossed her arms and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Is that part of your chest inlaid with gold or jade? It's so precious, you can't even look at it?"
The words were said in a sarcastic tone, but she was still suspicious. This man was treacherous, so it was no surprise that he had some secrets. However, he had been so secretive about the location of the life-saving needle, which was really suspicious.
"No..." He lowered his head, but his right hand clutched the collar of his shirt in front of his chest even tighter.
"Sigh," Qing Guiyu sighed, feeling that sooner or later he would be pissed off by his appearance. "I don't want to waste time with you. Are you going to take it off or not? If not, I'll do it myself."
He still gritted his teeth and didn't move at all.
Qing Guiyu felt an inexplicable irritation in his heart. Forget it, I don't want to watch it, not at all.
She didn't want to explore any of his secrets anymore, and didn't want to be bound by his pain, whether real or fake.
"Forget it!" She pulled her hand back abruptly.
In the end, he only took off half of his underwear and checked his wound. After making sure that there were no injuries to his muscles or bones, he felt a little relieved.
She picked up the powder and was about to lower her head to deal with it, but she found that there was something wrong with the person under her.
Something is wrong.
His body was less cold, not hot like a fever, but rather a kind of burning tightness as if something was suppressed.
I could even feel the slight trembling of his muscles, but it wasn't because of pain.
He has no sense of pain, but he must be able to feel touch.
"You..." Qing Guiyu raised her eyes and met his misty eyes. There was no pain in them, only a deep vortex mixed with something else, staring at her intently.
He looked at her fingers, at her face, at the strands of hair that had fallen on his shoulders because of her closeness, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted.
Qing Guiyu's heart skipped a beat and an absurd thought flashed through his mind.
She suddenly raised her hand and poked his shoulder with a finger, "Chen Yansheng, you are not..."
He trembled all over when she poked him, his eyes looked even more embarrassed, his face quickly turned red again, and he turned his head away, not daring to look at her.
"I..." His voice was unclear, as if his tongue was burned by something.
I was almost laughing out of anger.
She stood up straight, crossed her arms, and looked helplessly at the young master Jin Sheng who was sitting next to her, his clothes half-undressed, his face flushed, and even his neck flushed.
"Chen Juansheng, you're truly a talent." She spoke sarcastically, "The world is about to be turned upside down by you, and you still have the mind to think about these romantic affairs?"
She stopped talking, but looking at his expression of shame and indignation but not daring to refute, her anger inexplicably subsided a little, and she even had some sarcastic thoughts.
"Look at you," she stretched out her hand, tapped his shoulder, and teased, "In terms of scheming, you're incredibly calculating; in terms of tactics, you're vicious and ruthless. And since you look like this, why don't you just be reborn as a girl?"
"If you were reborn as a woman and placed in the palace, with the way you cough up blood when touched and blush when touched, and with all these endless tricks you have to win favor, I'm afraid you would have already defeated all the other concubines and become the most favored imperial concubine in the world."
It was so satisfying! These words were so harsh and cunning that even she felt she had gone too far.
However, a thick, indelible blush slowly appeared on Shen Juansheng's face, and even his eyes, which were always covered with mist, seemed to be dyed with rouge, with a dazzling color.
After a long time, he bit his lower lip and spoke softly, yet with great stubbornness and seriousness, looking straight at her.
"I am now... competing for favor, that's OK."
Qing Guiyu was so frightened that his hands shook and he almost spilled all the medicine powder on Jinchuang.
The night and the moisture favored him, making his already intimidating face look strangely clear.
Qing Guiyu quickly picked up the paper containing the powder, but couldn't help but ponder it carefully. This reaction amused him so much that he burst out laughing. The heaviness and depression he had just felt suddenly dissipated a lot.
She sighed, sat down again, and resigned herself to her fate as she picked up the medicine. Her voice was filled with helplessness, "Alright, Madam Concubine, come here, let the maid apply the medicine for you."
The deep voice seemed to suddenly brighten up, and a sparkling smile appeared on his face.
But when the ointment touched his skin, he shrank back silently.
Haha. That's not because of the pain. Qing Guiyu laughed dryly in his heart.
Pretend not to see.
He wouldn't feel any pain, so it was very easy to treat. Shen Juansheng also obediently let her bandage him. After a long time, just when Qing Guiyu thought he was going to suffocate himself in the steam, a muffled sound came from under her hand.
"Miss Qing," he seemed to ponder for a long time before speaking with difficulty, "...Just now, were you and he... also treating his injuries in this way?"
This question was asked out of the blue, and Qing Guiyu paused.
It refers to the junior brother, of course it is the junior brother.
"Yes." She didn't look up, her tone flat. "He is a patient, I am a doctor, curing illnesses and saving lives is my duty, what else can I do?"
"It's different." Shen Juansheng stubbornly retorted. He slowly lowered his arms. The blush on his face had not faded, but his eyes had darkened.
"When you treated his injuries, you were very gentle, very...heartbroken." He turned back and looked at her with a scorching gaze, as if to penetrate her. "You were afraid that he would be hurt, afraid that he would die, so you gave him all your internal energy. But for me..."
He paused, smiled softly,
"You're just worried that I won't die quickly enough, delaying your search for him."
She raised her eyes and met his, which were filled with sorrow. This man was truly the worst person in the world at turning the tables. He was clearly the one who had turned the tide and schemed everyone into it, but now he felt like the one who had been abandoned.
"Shen Tianji," she put down the powder and simply stopped bandaging, just looking at him.
"You don't feel pain, so how can I feel sorry for you? You're so cunning and have more ways to protect yourself than anyone else, so how can I feel sorry for you dying?"
Shen Juansheng's rosy face suddenly turned pale.
He slowly lowered his head, looked at the wound that she had half-treated, and then looked at his heart that he had covered.
Qing Guiyu felt inexplicably guilty.
"Okay," she patted his back and said casually, "I'll be gentler."
Shen Juansheng suddenly raised his head,
“Is it that light?”
Qing Guiyu nodded, really impressed by his clever mind.
Chen Juansheng pursed his lips, lowered his head and stopped talking. It took so long that Qing Guiyu thought he was planning some new conspiracy, but he suddenly laughed lightly.
The laughter spread in the misty water vapor,
"For so many years," he said, his voice hurried and scattered, as if it was also separated by steam.
"I have always felt that if Miss Qing could pity me again, this world would be perfect."
"But now I feel that just pitying me isn't going to be a good idea."
*
Qing Guiyu felt uneasy at his words, and her bandage slowed down a bit. She raised her eyes and glanced at him quickly, only to see that he had his eyes downcast, his face still red, but more natural.
"You..." She opened her mouth, wanting to say something harsh to break the weird atmosphere, but when the words came to her lips, she felt that everything she said seemed pale and powerless.
In the end, she could only tie the knot of the cloth tighter in annoyance, causing him to let out a very light, suppressed groan.
Look at this guy.
She knew clearly that he wouldn't feel any pain.
But he insisted on acting like this.
"Alright," she clapped her hands, stood up, and looked down at him. "Stop pretending here, my beloved concubine. Go in and rest. Starting tomorrow, I'll change your dressing."
After she finished speaking, she walked towards the most exquisite pavilion without looking back, deliberately stepping heavier, as if she could step the scorching gaze behind her and the messy emotions in her heart into the soft soil of the snow-capped mountains.
*
The days at Tangquan Villa passed in a strange peace.
Without Lu Guiyan, the cold, snow-like sword intent dissipated. Shen Jiansheng withdrew all his outward sharpness, like a peacock resting contentedly on its nest, its feathers folded away. He no longer mentioned his plans to stir up the jianghu, nor did he test her with his real or fake suffering. He simply stayed by her side, quietly.
If this Young Master Jin Sheng were to concentrate on vying for favor, he would probably be the best concubine in the world at vying for favor.
That afternoon, Qing Guiyu leaned on a warm rock beside the hot spring pool. The warmth made her feel a little drowsy.
Shen Juansheng was sitting not far from her. The sunlight filtered through the swirling mist and fell on him, giving his black robe a hazy golden edge. His face, which was almost offensive, lingered in this half-bright, half-asleep light and shadow.
Qing Guiyu took another look and saw that he was holding a piece of fine purple bamboo that he had found from somewhere, and was using a small silver carving knife to carefully carve something with his head down.
The blade turned deftly between his fingers, bamboo chips fell, and a faint bamboo fragrance filled the air.
As she watched, she felt that the scene was too unreal, like a crude trap, so she couldn't help but ask him.
"Chen Tianji," she yawned, "What are you talking about? Has Tianji Pavilion's business expanded to include bamboo flutes?"
Chen Juansheng paused, raised his eyes and looked at her, a soft smile spreading across his beautiful peach blossom eyes. "Miss Qing's flute looks quite old. After using it for so long, I'm afraid the tone has deteriorated. I have nothing better to do, so I'll carve a new one for her as a spare."
He lowered his head again, his voice gentle and clear, "If this old one gets damaged someday, we'll have a replacement."
Although this was a thoughtful statement, Qing Guiyu's eyelids twitched, as if her flute was about to be "accidentally damaged."
But it does make sense. She has been practicing bamboo flute in Yaowang Valley for so many years, but has never left Yuzhou. In the past few days since then, she has used it more in actual combat. Now, when she looks closely, she can see that there are indeed some cracks on the bamboo flute.
"No need," she thought again, tossing the bamboo flute in her hand, "I'm used to it."
Chen Juansheng paused, his gaze fixed on the bamboo flute in her hand. In those misty peach blossom eyes, there was a vague emotion.
He continued to polish the edge of the flute hole with the carving knife, and said softly, "But... I have never seen Miss Qing play the flute."
"I..." Qing Guiyu was a little embarrassed by his question, and his eyes wandered for a moment, "I... am not very good at playing the flute."
This is true. For her, the flute is mostly an inconspicuous and handy weapon.
The holes in the flute were convenient for hiding things; she had used it as a thorn, a needle, or even a club to hit people on the head, but she had never used it as a flute. As for playing it, she had only learned a few simple tunes from Lu Guiyan when she was young, and she had long forgotten most of them.
"Really?" Chen Juansheng's eyes were still fixed on the flute, as if he wanted to stare a few more holes in it.
Qing Guiyu felt uncomfortable when he looked at her, and almost in despair, she put the flute to her lips and blew hard.
“Woo—”
A hoarse and short broken sound seemed particularly abrupt in this quiet mountain villa, like the random cry of a frightened wild bird.
She felt her face flushing, and she put down the flute awkwardly, coughing twice, "See, I said I wouldn't do it."
Shen Juansheng seemed not to hear the unpleasant flute sound. His eyes slid from her cheeks, which were slightly red with embarrassment, to her lips, which were still slightly moist and shiny after she had just brought them close to the flute.
“… sounds good.”
Qing Guiyu was stunned by his ability to lie with his eyes open.
"A new one will always be useful." Shen Jiansheng said, his eyes fell back on her old flute, and he said softly, with an almost pitying tone, "It's too old. It can't accompany Miss Qing for a lifetime."
"That was given to me by my senior brother," she was forced into a corner by him, "He also taught me how to play the bamboo flute."
Having said this, she suddenly remembered that it was no wonder that when Fuxi defeated the Taoist priest in the Medicine King Valley that day with the Snow Mountain Sword Technique that he had looted from the Tianji Pavilion, she was familiar with Fuxi's sword technique.
It turns out that they are all from the same snow mountain lineage and have the same origin.
But as soon as she finished speaking, she felt the air around her seemed to suddenly turn cold.
Qing Guiyu immediately realized what she had said, and just when she was regretting whether she should slap herself in the face.
"I see," he said softly, his voice eerily steady. "Then Brother Lu is indeed very thoughtful."
The smile on Chen Juansheng's face remained undimmed, his expression still gentle and harmless. He lowered his eyes, his gaze returning to the purple bamboo in his hand. The carving knife continued to move between his fingers with an overly precise, even slightly cold, force.
With a click, a small piece of bamboo skin was shaved off with a little force and fell to the ground silently.
Qing Guiyu sighed. Here it comes, here it comes, the biggest jar of aged vinegar in the world is about to overturn again.
She looked at his overly handsome profile, glanced at his tightly pursed lips, and then looked at the silver carving knife between his fingers that drew cold lines on the bamboo joints.
"This one," Chen Juansheng held the shaved flute up to his eyes, examining it carefully against the light. He pondered for a moment, as if examining a rare treasure or judging an irreconcilable enemy, "must be even better."
He carefully polished the hole, and finally, he pulled out a few strands of gold thread from his wrist. Those gold threads, filled with the fine morning light, flowed between his fingers, and finally he tied them into a complex and exquisite cord, and slowly and methodically tied it to the tail of the brand new purple bamboo flute.
Qing Guiyu looked at the string on the new flute, then looked at his expressionless face, and felt something was wrong.
This thin tassel tied with gold thread seems to be something I have seen before.
"She said in a deep voice," she touched her chin, "did you...play this in the past?"
Seven years ago in the medicine house, he seemed to have wanted to use this golden thread to replace the disciple's belt she was wearing at the time.
What could she have said then? She definitely wouldn't agree.
Chen Juansheng just stared at her blankly, the golden silk ribbon swaying, his eyes deep, as if he wanted to penetrate the mist and see some distant past.
"Who knows?" Finally, he lowered his eyelashes, his voice as cold as ice, "Forget it."
Not quite right.
This guy... wants to uproot and wipe out all traces of Medicine King Valley and Junior Brother from her side bit by bit?
But she grew up with her junior brother, and apart from the things belonging to her master, most of the other items on her body were related to him.
She grumbled inwardly, but she took it anyway. The new flute felt cool to the touch, polished to a very smooth finish, and its dimensions were similar to her old one.
But who could have thought that this was just the beginning!
Shen Juansheng's pain grew worse day by day, but the things that belonged to her in this villa were becoming less and less.
First, the bottles and jars she carried with her were replaced with exquisite porcelain bottles with gold and colorful paintings. The names of the medicines were written in gold-painted seal script. The handwriting was sharp and upright, and it was not polite. It was the handwriting of Shen Juansheng.
At dinner time, she had just picked up her pair of ebony chopsticks that she had used for many years when a deep voice came over and handed her a pair of silver chopsticks. "Miss Qing, the humidity in Tangquan Villa is very high, and wooden chopsticks will easily get damp and moldy. Use silver chopsticks, they are cleaner."
At night, she had just lain down and covered herself with the thin blanket from her bag when Shen Juansheng came in with a brand new, snow-white, soft brocade quilt. "Miss Qing, it's cold at night. This quilt is warmer."
Even the teacup she drank water from was changed from coarse pottery to a thin-walled white porcelain cup the next day, with a lonely plum blossom engraved on the wall.
She couldn't stand it any longer, and finally on the morning of the third day, she slammed the new comb he handed her back on the table.
"Sound of deep engraving!"
"Miss Qing," he said, still looking gentle and soft, even with a hint of surprised innocence. His peach blossom eyes were misted in the morning light, making him look even more pitiful. "The teeth of this horn comb are round, so it won't hurt your hair."
"Thank you!" Qing Guiyu felt like he was about to be driven crazy by his subtle, erosive transformation. "Do you want to change me from head to toe to the style of your Tianji Pavilion? If my clothes get old one day, will you also strip them off and replace them with new ones?"
These words were definitely spoken in anger, but Shen Juansheng's eyes suddenly lit up. His gaze swallowed up her figure and her exasperated look.
Without any reservation, he swept his gaze inch by inch, from her slightly raised eyebrows, across her slightly angry face, and finally to the tips of her ears which had turned red with anger.
Finally, he nodded seriously.
"If Miss Qing likes it," he said softly, his face actually flushed. The blush spread from his pale cheeks all the way to his ears. His voice became soft and low, "That's... very good."
Qing Guiyu was so exhausted that he almost fainted on the spot.
But she couldn't get angry. After all, who would argue with a "favored concubine" who was just coughing up blood and now uses that look to tear you apart from the inside out, just for a few small bottles and a comb?
In this strange and comfortable environment, Fuxi came uninvited.
He was still wearing a flamboyant scarlet robe, and appeared at Tangquan Villa leisurely, as if he was going for an outing.
"Master, Madam." As soon as he entered the room, he shook his head, "Tsk tsk, you two are living such a fairy-like life."
Qing Guiyu couldn't control him, so she turned away angrily and nodded to him in a low voice.
"What a refined taste!" Fuxi drawled out his words, his eyes flickering between the two of them ambiguously. "That kid Pulao and I pretended to be you and paraded along the Northern Frontier Highway for two days, acting out the scenes of a loving couple. I almost vomited up my leftover food."
Shen Juansheng smiled lightly, "Thank you for your hard work."
"It's more than hard work," Fuxi came over, frowned, sat down at the table as a matter of course, and poured himself a cup of tea. "Those barbarians from the Helan tribe are following us closely, and Pulao is a fool. I tried my best to learn your tricks, but facing his dead face, it's really..."
Qing Guiyu listened to his complaints and thought about his own experiences over the past two days. He suddenly felt a sense of sympathy and even looked at Fuxi with a liking. So he turned around and finally spoke.
"Master Fuxi," she was always quick to the point, "Is the story of the dike explosion in Yuzhou City true?"
Fuxi was startled, the teacup in his hand shaking, as if he had not expected her to ask about this matter suddenly. He glanced suspiciously at An Ran's silent voice and said hesitantly, "Half true, half false..."
Suddenly he stood up and said, "No, what did our Pavilion Master tell you?"
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