Jiang Shuyi felt a cold numbness rise from the soles of her feet, freezing her in pce.

  Executed by beating? Just because he let her in?

  Pei Yan’s hand continued gently patting her back, its rhythm eerily in sync with the muffled sound of the rod falling outside. Jiang Shuyi’s eyeshes trembled—each strike felt as though it nded on her, too. The warmth of his embrace no longer felt like protection, but like ropes binding her limbs.

  She barely shifted her body before Pei Yan’s calm voice corrected her, “Don’t move. Listen.”

  Her throat tightened, eyes stinging with sudden tears.

  Listen to what?

  She lifted her gaze to him, grief clouding her eyes. “Your Majesty wants me to hear it—so I’ll know that if I make another mistake, I’ll end up like Cheng Lu?”

  Pei Yan’s hand paused mid-motion.

  The way she looked at him—those broken eyes, that trembling voice—it was as if he had deeply wronged her.

  But she was the one at fault, and he hadn’t even spoken harshly to her.

  Pei Yan couldn’t help but reflect. Ever since that nightmare she had, Jiang Shuyi seemed cloaked in a quiet sorrow. In front of others, she remained imperious and spoiled, but whenever he so much as poked at her, she shattered like gss.

  Like the other day, when she’d taken medicine and was resting, and he merely said he was leaving—she startled awake and wept while clinging to him. Or yesterday, when he’d expressed a bit of anger after being lied to. A few mild words of rebuke, and she’d cried and fussed until he relented.

  Now, it seemed they were right back there again.

  After a long pause, Pei Yan said to the eunuch nearby, “Go tell Cheng Shouzhong to halt the punishment.”

  The eunuch obeyed and stepped out. A moment ter, the whipping sounds ceased.

  Jiang Shuyi didn’t know why he’d suddenly relented. Just as her pent-up grievance surged and she was about to cry, Pei Yan released her.

  Yet the moment the restraint was gone, she didn’t feel relieved—her heart tightened with unease. She looked at him with teary eyes.

  Pei Yan had intended to stay stern, but the way she looked at him melted his resolve. He merely pointed to the dragon couch and said, “Go sit over there.”

  Jiang Shuyi clutched his sleeve, eyes brimming with tears.

  Pei Yan didn’t budge, “Are you disobeying me?”

  Seeing that coaxing wouldn’t work, Jiang Shuyi had no choice but to let go, wiping her tears as she sat quietly at the edge of the couch.

  Pei Yan remained where he was, his tone soft. “Don’t cry. I’m not going to scold or punish you. I only want to speak reason.”

  His calm tone eased her somewhat. With tears still clinging to her shes, she looked up at him.

  “These past few days,” Pei Yan continued, choosing his words carefully, “when you speak to me, you’ve crossed the line a few times.”

  Jiang Shuyi’s heart skipped. She tried not to show it on her face and instead looked sincere as she choked out, “Because I’m growing more and more fond of Your Majesty… So much that I can’t help myself…”

  Pei Yan was briefly speechless.

  Meeting her deeply emotional gaze, he suddenly felt unsure.

  Could she be… pregnant again?

  When Jiang Shuyi was carrying Pei Yu, she’d clung to him constantly, her moods all over the pce—crying when she saw him, and crying when she didn’t.

  But that suspicion quickly faded.

  No… unlikely.

  He looked at her again and said gently, “Even so, you must still restrain yourself. I’m not frightening you for nothing today. Zichen Hall is where I live and handle state affairs—even my mother, the Empress Dowager, cannot enter at will. Yet you boldly walked in while I was absent. If I don’t check you now, who’s to say next time you won’t barge into the Imperial Study?”

  Jiang Shuyi lowered her head, fingers twisting together.

  Pei Yan was right. She had been pnning to chase him all the way to the Imperial Study tomorrow.

  She’d thought, if she didn’t yet hold much weight in his heart, then she would just keep leaping toward it—until she nded there.

  But now it seemed she had nearly leapt to her death.

  A sweep of pale blue dragon-cloud brocade passed into view, the faint scent of imperial incense trailing in its wake. A hand nded gently on her shoulder.

  “I’ve said all this to you—have you taken it to heart?”

  Jiang Shuyi blinked away her tears, lifted her head, and obediently replied, “I’ve taken it to heart. I won’t do something like this again…”

  Pei Yan looked as though he wanted to say more but stopped himself. He nodded slightly. “Good. That man outside—I’ll leave him to you. You’ve saved his life today. Cheng Lu may be sycophantic, but he has some sense of loyalty. If you want to use him, take him. If not, I’ll still have him executed.”

  It was a gift, pin and simple. And Jiang Shuyi knew better than to refuse favor.

  She thought of the head eunuch in her pace, Wang Shun—loyal to a fault, but far too soft-hearted. If she asked him to do something even slightly ruthless, he’d probably lose sleep for a week.

  In her previous life, she’d thought him useless and instead promoted another eunuch recommended by Jiang Wanqing. Predictably, that same eunuch ended up testifying for Jiang Wanqing and helped bring about her downfall.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. Cheng Lu only did what he did to please me. I’ll take responsibility for him.”

  Pei Yan made a soft sound of assent, withdrew his hand, and smiled. “Go on then. Weren’t you going to study with me again? Go review the old lessons I taught you. I’ll quiz you in a few days—if you’ve forgotten them all, I won’t teach you again.”

  Only now did Jiang Shuyi recall her original purpose.

  She had come to cling to Pei Yan—to keep him from flipping someone else’s namepte tonight.

  In hindsight, maybe that had been a bit too ambitious.

  She obediently responded and rose to take her leave.

  —

  Outside, in the open space beyond the hall.

  Cheng Lu was tied down to a bench, mouth gagged with hemp, his back slick with blood—but still breathing.

  Cheng Shouzhong had spared him a bit of mercy, instructing the floggers not to strike too hard. He figured if they stalled long enough, the Emperor’s mood might shift.

  Seeing Jiang Fei emerge, he hurried forward and said with a grin, “Your Highness, heading back? Oh no, don’t look over there. That dog’s not worth sullying your eyes.”

  Jiang Shuyi hadn’t intended to look, but now that he’d said something, she did.

  Cheng Lu was barely conscious, but he strained to lift his head toward her, eyes filled with desperate pleading.

  She knew exactly what he meant—he wanted her to plead for his life.

  Jiang Shuyi looked away and said to Cheng Shouzhong, “That’s enough. Send Cheng Lu to Zhaoyang Pace. He’ll serve by my side from now on.”

  Cheng Shouzhong’s eyes lit up, but he still confirmed, “Was this His Majesty’s command?”

  Jiang Shuyi, in no mood for nonsense, shot him a gre. “Does Chief Steward Cheng think I still have the guts to make that decision myself?”

  She’d just been scolded for daring to walk into Zichen Hall, Qianqing Pace. What did they think she’d dare to do now?

  She didn’t voice the second half, but Cheng Shouzhong got the message and immediately cursed himself for speaking out of turn, apologizing profusely.

  Jiang Shuyi, venting her anger, no longer found it interesting. With a sweep of her sleeve, she turned and walked away from the pace gate.

  Cheng Shouzhong bowed respectfully as he watched her go, then returned to Cheng Lu’s side, gave the bleeding eunuch a vicious jab to the head, and sighed.

  “Damn lucky bastard. You'd better serve Her Highness well in Zhaoyang Pace. If you try anything stupid again—I’ll be the one to finish you off.”