Chapter 36: A Novel Experience

“Puff—puff—” The brown-black bubbles formed by the boiling medicinal decoction burst one after another, with white steam billowing upward.

Shi Yuning leaned slightly forward from her little stool to take a peek. She raked out some of the charcoal from the small furnace, turning the flame down to a low simmer for a while longer.

She picked up the palm-leaf fan beside her and fanned herself vigorously, “whoosh—whoosh.”

The scorching heat on her face made her heart burn too. She told herself it must be the sweltering weather, or that she was too close to the charcoal brazier, or that the steam from the boiling medicine had flushed her cheeks.

It certainly wasn’t because of what had happened in the room just now that her face was red and her heart was racing!

Shi Yuning fanned harder, trying to blow all those images out of her mind.

But her brain seemed determined to defy her. The more she tried not to think about it, the more those memories surged forward, replaying right before her eyes.

It wasn’t her fault—it was all Xie Zhaoran’s doing. A kiss was just a kiss, so why had she started using her hands too?

It was her own fault too, for being so dazed that she hadn’t even noticed when Xie Zhaoran had untied the sash of her outer robe.

No, it wasn’t her fault. Who could blame her when Xie Zhaoran’s fingers were so slender and deft? She’d noticed it before, when Xie Zhaoran had tied the cord on her sachet. Her fingers were perfectly proportioned, ideal for delicate work.

No, it was entirely her fault. Those hands would be so much better suited to embroidery or needlework, not wandering over her body.

When that scorching hand had suddenly pressed against her bare back without warning, her mind had gone completely blank in an instant.

Shi Yuning felt something explode in her head with a deafening buzz. She wanted to ask what Xie Zhaoran was doing, but her lips were caught in a wet, sticky embrace.

She couldn’t speak, only letting out muffled hums she didn’t dare listen to closely—soft, tender sounds laced with intimacy, murmurs so gentle they didn’t even sound like her own.

When had she ever been this soft and yielding? She hadn’t known Xie Zhaoran’s hands could burn so hot.

Every place they caressed felt like molten lava flowing over her skin.

As that heat spread everywhere, Shi Yuning’s voice grew softer, and soon her limbs and entire body seemed to melt under the scorching flow.

She slumped into Xie Zhaoran’s arms, utterly defeated, completely limp, letting that hand ignite fires everywhere only to soothe them moments later.

Shi Yuning squeezed her eyes shut tight and swung her arm in a fierce flurry of fanning, desperate to drive the images from her mind.

But she overshot, and the embers in the brazier, which had been dying down, suddenly crackled back to life, “pop-pop-crackle.”

Shi Yuning stopped abruptly, set the fan aside, wrapped her hand in her skirt hem, and lifted the lid for a look.

It was just about done. She raked out a bit more charcoal from the furnace.

Sitting back on her stool, Shi Yuning looked down and noticed the dust on her skirt. She brushed it off casually.

When she patted the black smudges from her chest, Shi Yuning paused and looked down.

Something occurred to her, and she gave it a gentle rub. It was soft, but nothing special.

Why did it feel so different from before? Her brows gradually furrowed. Or maybe there was some acupoint there?

Earlier, when they were in Xie Zhaoran’s hands, a simple light pinch had sent her blood rushing straight to her head like a reverse torrent, exploding in her mind. The tingling had been so unbearable that tears had spilled from her eyes.

So embarrassing!

Shi Yuning covered her face in annoyance, feeling she’d lost all composure in front of Xie Zhaoran—again.

Then she decided it wasn’t her fault!

She had no idea what had come over her.

The sensation had been too wondrous; she couldn’t think of anything to compare it to.

Shi Yuning rubbed her face. It was unfair—so unfair. She hadn’t laid a hand on Xie Zhaoran.

She wondered if she should even the score, but then she thought of how Xie Zhaoran had changed. The once proper and refined woman now looked at her with eyes that always set her heart fluttering in panic.

She didn’t dare bring up settling things evenly. Just now, Xie Zhaoran had thrown those words back at her.

She’d said, “If you want to call it even again, you’ll have to kiss me like this.”

Aaaah, that villain! As if she could!

Shi Yuning glanced at the medicine jar billowing steam and huffed in frustration. She really wanted to toss in some bitter coptis.

The thick medicinal aroma wafted along the base of the wall, through the window, and into the open-door bedroom in waves.

Xie Zhaoran twirled a slender strand of hair between her fingers, slowly winding it around them. She watched as the coils trapped her long index finger, leaving red marks in tight bands. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

This strand was from when Shi Yuning had brushed against her earlier. Her hair was like her—appearing sleek and glossy, but actually fine and soft to the touch.

Xie Zhaoran kept winding it, but the tension in her heart didn’t ease one bit. She was deeply conflicted; that single tear from Shi Yuning had struck right at her heart.

What was wrong with her? Was she uncomfortable?

Xie Zhaoran panicked at this uncontrollable feeling—no better off than Shi Yuning, and with no experience to draw on. She hoped the books Xiao Liju had given her weren’t misleading.

She looked down at her finger, swollen from the hair’s tight embrace. The soft, smooth sensation it had glided over lingered faintly.

Xie Zhaoran let out a rough breath and abruptly released the strand. Her blood-red finger suddenly paled, then returned to normal.

She glanced at her crudely bandaged injured leg. Rural healing methods were lacking, after all. She didn’t know how long it would take Xiao Liju to find them.

She needed her own military physician; she wouldn’t delay this leg injury a moment longer. She wanted it healed quickly.

Besides, it wasn’t convenient to stay here much longer.

Though unfamiliar with rural life, Xie Zhaoran knew matchmakers weren’t tight-lipped. Soon, everyone nearby would know two young women were here.

One with a broken leg, barely mobile.

Human nature couldn’t withstand temptation. A ruthless glint flashed in Xie Zhaoran’s eyes. If any fools dared come, she wouldn’t hold back.

On Xiuya Cliff, Chen Da was hauled up by his subordinates, his face alight with joy. He shed his climbing gear as he headed toward the camp tent of the Shi family father and son.

Because Shi Minda had refused to leave without finding anyone, Shi Chao had simply ordered the troops to camp here. He’d also had the military physician prescribe a sedative for Shi Minda.

From the moment Shi Yuning went missing, Shi Minda hadn’t closed his eyes once. At the cliff’s edge, heedless of whether Shi Yuning could hear, he’d shouted “Ningning, come back! Ningning, come back!” all night long.

Even after his voice grew hoarse, he wouldn’t stop. Multiple times, he’d slipped past the guards when they weren’t looking, gearing up to descend himself.

The guards hadn’t initially believed the young lady of the Shi family could survive such a high fall. They’d searched only to fulfill orders.

But seeing Shi Minda’s devotion had moved them. They’d gone from doubting she was alive to praying she must be.

Today, their greatest fear was finding her body—what then?

Fortunately, Chen Da brought good news.

When Chen Da reported to Shi Chao that a river ran below the cliff, Shi Minda—who should have been deep in drugged sleep—snapped his eyes open.

With eyes swollen like walnuts, Shi Minda clutched his father’s leg desperately.

“Dad, Ningning’s definitely still alive! That’s great, that’s great—Ningning can swim!”

Shi Minda was overjoyed. He yanked off the towel someone had placed on his forehead and used it to wipe his tears.

“Ningning’s an excellent swimmer. Heaven has opened its eyes—Ningning’s surely alive.”

He didn’t know about others, but Ningning in water was like a fish to water.

Back when Ningning was not yet seven, she’d challenged the village boys to a breath-holding contest underwater and held out longer than all of them.

Shi Chao’s tears streamed down his weathered face. As long as there was hope, as long as there was hope.

Chen Da was caught up in the emotion, more determined than ever to find Miss Shi.

Shi Chao instructed him to prepare longer ropes this time, along with bamboo rafts or skin boats, then follow the river downstream once they reached the bottom.

If Shi Yuning was unharmed, she’d surely have floated downstream.

Chen Da saluted and departed. Shi Chao then shared the news with the people sent by Xiao Liju to assist.

Now, the Eldest Princess was acting as regent in the court, and Shi Chao had no objections. Compared to Prince Yu’s erratic nature, he’d prefer her.

Still, he worried. The Emperor was gravely ill, with no heirs. If the worst happened… who would inherit the throne?

The Late Emperor had only two sons. Fortunately, the Emperor had issued a warrant for Prince Yu’s arrest. Otherwise, if Prince Yu made a comeback, the Shi family would be doomed.

Alas, Great Ye had reached a perilous juncture.

In the palace, Xiao Liju listened to her subordinate’s report on the Shi family’s new discovery, but she wasn’t as elated as they were.

Simply put, she knew Xie Zhaoran couldn’t swim, and skinny little Shi Yuning didn’t look capable of towing someone to safety.

In a life-or-death moment, it was too much to expect self-sacrifice. Xiao Liju thought that if Xie Zhaoran could swim, she’d be thrilled—given her affection for Shi Yuning, she’d surely save her at all costs.

After some thought, Xiao Liju sent her subordinate to the Naval Commandant to borrow military skin boats and a team of strong swimmers to aid Marquis Shi.

On Xiuya Cliff, when Shi Chao met the naval personnel, his opinion of Xiao Liju improved further. He even thought the Eldest Princess would make an excellent sovereign if she could ascend to the throne.

A pity she was a woman—it was nothing but a pipe dream.

Shi Minda kowtowed toward the Imperial City, thanking the Eldest Princess. Whoever helped find his daughter would be the Shi family’s greatest benefactor!

“Ningning, don’t be afraid—Daddy’s coming to save you!” Shi Minda bellowed toward the base of the cliff.

“Achoo—” Shi Yuning let out a massive sneeze, shuddering all over.

She touched her forehead, praying it wasn’t a cold. With just the two of them, they couldn’t afford to get sick at the same time.

No fever, thankfully. Shi Yuning sighed in relief, rose from her stool, and rummaged in the kitchen for a bowl with fewer chips.

She drew a bucket of water from the backyard well. The summer well water was clear and refreshingly cool.

Shi Yuning washed her hands first, then splashed a handful over her face to cool the flush from her earlier wild thoughts.

She meticulously cleaned the chipped bowl, then ladled out the medicine from the jar.

A big bowl of thick, black, sticky sludge that smelled pungently bitter. Shi Yuning felt a surge of sympathy—she’d always hated bitter medicine since childhood.

The freshly decocted medicine was still hot. With no suitable cloth handy, she folded up her skirt hem as a potholder and carefully carried the bowl back to the room.