Chapter 96: The Precious Touch

Was Zhao Huairen testing her?

Why… had she revealed her secrets so easily?

The thin sheet of paper suddenly felt scalding hot. Yan Yiqing swallowed and wanted to return the hot potato in her hand to Zhao Huairen.

“What’s wrong?” A faint smile lingered in her eyes as Zhao Huairen asked knowingly.

The little cat coughed twice. “It’s covered in tiny writing. It makes my head spin just looking at it. Keep it and read it slowly yourself, Your Highness.”

“Afraid of knowing too much?”

The woman’s voice was clear and moist. Yan Yiqing subconsciously wanted to nod but caught herself and feigned composure. “What do I have to be afraid of? You handed it to me. I didn’t snatch it.”

“Mm, I did hand it to you.”

Her jet-black lashes trembled, her gaze seeming to ask: Meow? What do you mean?

“So stupid.”

So stupid…?

Was Zhao Huairen calling her stupid?

Yan Yiqing opened her mouth to speak, but then felt a cool softness on the back of her hand. Zhao Huairen took the letter from her palm. Their fingertips brushed her skin and parted instantly, like a butterfly lightly kissing the lake’s surface.

“So Young Master Yan needn’t worry,” Zhao Huairen said as she unfolded the letter, hiding her reddened ear tips behind it. Her voice was even more moist than usual. “Even if you know a little more, it doesn’t matter.”

Understanding the implication in her lady’s words, ripples stirred in Yan Yiqing’s bright peach-blossom eyes, and a smile bloomed on her lips.

The carriage raced along at high speed. Cool wind slipped inside, dissipating the faint sweetness in the compartment.

The letter trembled ever so slightly. Catching the curve of Yan Yiqing’s lips from the corner of her eye and knowing she had finally understood, Zhao Huairen pressed her lips together and refocused on the secret report.

Deprived of her master’s attention, the little cat wasn’t upset. Instead, she took out the brocade pouch from her chest and amused herself by fiddling with its drawstrings.

Her efforts hadn’t been in vain.

To Zhao Huairen, she… was no longer an outsider.

Her heart tickled by a feather, Yan Yiqing savored this rare peace. She stole glances at Zhao Huairen now and then, unspeakable affection flowing in her eyes. Even her breaths carried contented delight.

Just past the hour of si, the sunlight grew more direct, the carriage’s shadow shorter, and the wind on their faces carried a touch of heat.

Zhao Huairen carefully folded the read secret report.

Neatly stacked, to be destroyed together upon disembarking.

The heat-averse little cat sat by the window enjoying the breeze. Seeing Zhao Huairen look her way, she casually asked, “Any recent news from Yanjing?”

“The Crown Prince and Prince Gong are quarreling fiercely over the Vice Minister of War position.”

The Ministry of War was impregnable, filled top to bottom with Prince Gong’s faction.

This was a heaven-sent opportunity for the Crown Prince, one he wouldn’t let slip.

“Prince G—achoo!” A strand of hair blew across her nose, and Yan Yiqing sneezed. Sniffling, she continued, “Prince Gong’s been punished this time. To balance the factions, the Vice Minister of War post will surely be mine.”

This would have required some maneuvering before.

But with Prince Gong punished, the Emperor wouldn’t bolster the Crown Prince’s power further.

Zhao Huairen pressed her lips together, her phoenix eyes lowering briefly with a flash of helplessness: Except… Qingqing is quite clever.

“Am I wrong?” Yan Yiqing took her silence for denial and tilted her head.

The naughty strand of hair stuck to her cheek again.

The little cat wrinkled her perky nose.

With her paw, she brushed away the disobedient strands.

“You’re absolutely right, Young Master Yan,” Zhao Huairen shook her head. She endured the scorching heat with poise, far more composed than the flustered little cat. “In that case, shouldn’t we prepare a promotion banquet for Young Master Yan in advance?”

“A promotion banquet? Better not—”

“You and me.”

Hearing those three words, Yan Yiqing immediately changed her tune. “A promotion banquet is absolutely necessary.”

Her light-brown eyes shone brightly with laughter. Zhao Huairen lowered her long lashes. The solitary orchids basked in the brilliant sun, their aloofness melting away unnoticed, every leaf growing more vibrant.

That morning, to stun Zhao Huairen, she had tied her hair in a high ponytail, letting her ink-black locks cascade down.

But now… this damned hair seemed to sabotage her on purpose. Any breeze sent it flying into her mouth.

Yan Maomao battled her wind-tossed hair for a while before suddenly thinking of something. She looked up at Zhao Huairen, her peach-blossom eyes sparkling. “Your Highness, I’ve thought of my compensation!”

“Mm?” Her warm, moist voice held a question.

–

A gentle breeze wafted into the carriage, sunlight casting warm golden ribbons that danced inside, fine dust floating in the air.

Her bright features, framed by disheveled hair, lost their deliberate polish and gained a touch of endearing disarray.

“Trouble you,” Yan Yiqing said, sitting with her back to Zhao Huairen. Her raven hair flowed like fine ink satin, lightly tangling around her shoulders and neck, a few restless strands softly draping over the moon-white sleeve.

Recalling Yan Yiqing’s earlier request, Zhao Huairen’s phoenix eyes lowered, something flashing swiftly in them.

Braiding hair for someone.

This was her first time.

The woman’s fingers were slender and delicate, her skin a near-translucent pale white, nails neatly rounded. She stroked the strands with gravity surpassing her writing or swordplay.

The faint fragrance was just like its owner.

Boldly claiming the entire carriage with smug satisfaction.

Her long lashes cast shadows under her eyes. Zhao Huairen focused intently, carefully parting the tangled hair at her nape. New to this, her movements were a bit clumsy, yet caused Yan Yiqing no pain.

The soft, cool touch brushed her nape, sending a shiver of tingling numbness.

“How long are you going to touch…?”

The trailing tone was soft and lingering.

Her fingertips flinched from the heat, her ears instantly reddening.

“Young Master Yan’s hair is tangled. It’ll be done soon.” Her heartbeat quickened, the shadows under her eyes trembling, her gaze darkening: When Qingqing isn’t trying to seduce, she’s far too seductive.

Yan Yiqing nodded, her fingers tightening on the pouch.

She didn’t mind the slowness.

It just felt… strange.

So hot, her head was dizzy.

Following vague memories, Zhao Huairen’s fingers wove through her hair, unskilled but meticulous. She divided the strands into three and began braiding slowly. Despite care, her fingertips inevitably brushed the delicate earlobe.

The shoulders before her visibly tensed for an instant. Before Yan Yiqing could speak, Zhao Huairen apologized, “Sorry.”

The earlobe flushed blood-red.

The little cat shook her head, indicating it was fine.

Even as a first try, Zhao Huairen did well. The braid was nearly done when her brows furrowed slightly. “Wait, I don’t seem to have—”

A faded pink appeared in her palm.

Flowers from the past interrupted the present.

Her gaze passed over Yan Yiqing’s outstretched arm, silently landing on the open purple brocade pouch on her lap.

“Here, didn’t you need a hair ribbon, Your Highness?” Yan Yiqing blinked, tilting her head in confusion.

Zhao Huairen’s gaze chilled imperceptibly. She raised her hand but hesitated to take the ribbon.

Whether the faded color or the softened texture from repeated handling… it was like an invisible hand choking her throat, leaving her breathless and speechless.

She already liked her.

Why keep someone else’s thing?

Unable to read her expression, Yan Yiqing pressed, “What’s wrong? Is my hair too messy… can’t tie it?”

“This hair ribbon…”

Yan Yiqing’s shoulders tensed instantly.

Zhao Huairen didn’t remember the jade pendant, yet recognized this ribbon?

Was it too soon now…? With their current relationship, if Zhao Huairen learned she’d uncovered her secret—

“This hair ribbon seems very important to Young Master Yan?”

A glint flashed in her obsidian eyes. Yan Yiqing’s tensed shoulders relaxed slightly as she nodded. “Mm.”

She thought she hadn’t noticed.

Or simply didn’t care about her feelings.

The affirmative answer struck her heart like ice, taking in Yan Yiqing’s reactions. Indescribable sourness and sharp, unfamiliar hostility turned into countless tiny thorns, cracking Zhao Huairen’s prized composure.

“Your Highness?” Yan Yiqing’s back suddenly chilled.

She had provoked her first.

Why did another person still live in her heart?

“Does Young Master Yan remember?” Her clear voice carried a faint chill. Amid summer’s blaze, it felt like midwinter.

“Remember what?”

The air in the carriage stilled for a moment, leaving only the rumble of wheels and wind.

Her thin lips paled from pressing together, but her light-brown phoenix eyes remained deep and calm. Zhao Huairen lowered her lashes and gently reminded her, “A promise.”

“A promise?” Yan Yiqing mulled the words, then recalled it without hesitation. “Have you thought of it, Your Highness? Don’t worry, no matter what you ask me to—”

“Throw away this hair ribbon.”

!? Yan Maomao’s eyes widened instantly.

“Can’t you?”

During Yan Yiqing’s silence, the surging emotions in Zhao Huairen’s heart settled one by one, as she had mastered over the years—silently burying them in an unfathomable icy pool.

“I…” She had never dreamed Zhao Huairen would demand this. Yan Yiqing’s face twisted in distress, stammering without finishing a sentence before dryly asking, “Your Highness, can we change it?”

The first gift from Zhao Huairen.

Before knowing she was alive.

One of the few bright spots in her life.

“Just kidding.” Zhao Huairen’s voice was utterly still, her long lashes veiling her eyes as she picked up the faded pink and curved her lips. “Young Master Yan’s promise is worth a fortune. It’s just a hair ribbon… I’m not that foolish.”

Hearing this, Yan Yiqing sighed in relief, though something still felt off.

“Turn around.”

Her gaze lingered on her fingertips for a moment. Zhao Huairen’s eyes grew distant as she quietly tied the ribbon to Yan Yiqing’s braid end. Her pupils still reflected the figure, but the warmth in her eyes was gone.

“The person who gave you this ribbon… is very important to Young Master Yan?”

Yan Yiqing’s mouth fell open.

As if disbelieving what she’d heard.

Was Zhao Huairen… jealous?

All the oddness made sense. Knowing what to say now, Yan Yiqing rubbed her earlobe, feigning casualness. “It’s alright. Just an old friend.”

Staring at the hand rubbing her earlobe.

Zhao Huairen’s gaze grew colder.

“Mm, I see.”