Chapter 84: Teasing Without Mercy

A night breeze carrying warmth brushed over the locust tree branches. After an unknown amount of time, the green leaves had once again lightly blanketed the bluestone slabs.

The candle flame in the copper lamp flickered dimly.

The light fell by the bed, blurring their two figures into one.

Yan Yiqing still maintained her original posture. Even though her arm had gone numb, she refused to move it. She gently rubbed Zhao Huairen’s hand with her fingertip, the soft, jade-like touch cool and tender. Her cat-like eyes shimmered as ripples of pink spread through her heart.

However, she soon noticed—

The beauty in her sleep trembled her eyelashes slightly.

It was an extremely subtle movement, almost imperceptible, like the gentle breeze stirred by a butterfly’s wings. But Yan Yiqing had been staring at Zhao Huairen for a long time, so she clearly knew… Huairen was about to wake up, and her own dream was about to end.

Her slightly upturned lips unconsciously drooped.

Yan Yiqing closed her eyes, refusing to wake up as if playing ostrich.

“Young Master Yan… how long do you plan to keep pretending?” The woman’s voice carried the hoarseness unique to just waking. Zhao Huairen’s phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze on Yan Yiqing gentler than the morning breeze brushing over petals.

Feeling that gaze she couldn’t ignore, Yan Yiqing silently pursed her lips. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed, as if not opening them would let her continue the charade, never waking from her “self-deceptive” dream.

Her gaze swept over the tip of Yan Yiqing’s nose.

Finally, it landed on her slightly pale lips.

Zhao Huairen lowered her eyes and said softly, “Actually, I woke up a quarter of an hour ago.”

What did that mean?

Question marks popped up in the little cat’s mind.

“I mean…” Her gaze inadvertently swept over their tightly intertwined fingers. Zhao Huairen pretended to be calm as she looked away, paused for a moment, then said nonchalantly, “Even if I woke up, I wouldn’t let go of your hand.”

The pie from the sky stunned the little cat.

Yan Yiqing processed it several times before finally understanding.

She abruptly opened her eyes. Her watery black eyes brimmed with incredulous doubt. She frowned at Zhao Huairen. “Why?”

“Before you fainted, you said you wanted… to hold onto me.” Zhao Huairen’s ear tips flushed faintly red. Her voice was clear and aloof, sounding as calm as discussing tomorrow’s weather.

But the usually watertight woman had a rare lapse.

She forgot that her hand was still tightly clasped with Yan Yiqing’s.

Her knuckles stiffened from tension, and her palm uncontrollably grew warm. The heat transferred through their pressed skin—faint and light, yet it tickled Yan Yiqing’s breath like a feather, making her heart itch and soften.

“I said I wanted to, and the Heir Apparent… is willing to let me hold you?”

The air in the bedroom was very quiet.

Even the gusts of wind outside the window could be heard.

The leaping flame made the half-burned wick sway unsteadily. Yan Yiqing waited a long time without a response, then turned her face away. “That was just nonsense I spouted. It’s so hot these days… who would want to hold onto you? It’s hot enough to die from.”

“If that’s the case, why hasn’t Young Master Yan let go?”

Hearing this, Yan Yiqing ground her molars. She took a deep breath and squeezed out through clenched teeth, “Fine, I’ll let go—”

But before she could pull her hand back,

Zhao Huairen pressed it down with her other hand.

“Are you sick or something?!” Yan Yiqing’s anger flared. She glared up hatefully, only to crash into gentle, serene eyes.

The light brown pupils held helplessness.

At the bottom were soothing emotions and much undisguisable softness.

“You asked me earlier, and I nodded.”

“Doesn’t the Heir Apparent have a mouth?” The little cat’s arched back instantly deflated. Yan Yiqing pouted, suppressing her rising lips, and shamelessly blamed it all on Zhao Huairen. “I didn’t see it. Couldn’t you… say it out loud for me?”

“I couldn’t help myself…” Zhao Huairen’s eyelashes trembled slightly, a carefully concealed amusement in her eyes that she didn’t dare let Yan Yiqing notice. “Young Master Yan making excuses is especially cute.”

The little cat frowned. “You’re teasing me?”

“How can you tell it’s teasing?” Zhao Huairen looked up at her. Her phoenix eyes were clear as a spring, showing no hint of mischief.

A few strands of inky hair quietly draped over her shoulder. The woman’s thin lips pursed slightly, her lip color pale from exhaustion. Though haggard, it didn’t diminish her poise; instead, it added a fragile vulnerability that stirred pity—like an epiphyllum flower unable to bear the dew.

Huairen probably wasn’t doing it on purpose?

If anything, it was her own fault for not seeing?

“Fine, if you say no, then no.” Pink clouds bloomed on her cheeks. Yan Yiqing withdrew her probing gaze and let the innocent beauty off lightly.

A flash of amusement imperceptible to others crossed Zhao Huairen’s phoenix eyes as she nodded gently.

Something felt off.

As if she had forgotten something.

While scrutinizing the composed Zhao Huairen, Yan Yiqing pondered silently. Like a bolt of lightning, her rippling peach-blossom eyes suddenly darkened.

Huairen was using her beauty on her?

Did she think this would make her forget her misdeeds?

“Heir Apparent, I have a few things to ask you.”

Zhao Huairen could face a collapsing mountain without changing expression, but facing the calm Yan Yiqing disordered her breathing. “Ask away.”

The scene flashed through her mind again. Yan Yiqing’s brows furrowed tightly, her face darkening involuntarily. She gripped Zhao Huairen’s fingers and asked sullenly, “Heir Apparent… when did you come up with this plan?”

Her long eyelashes fluttered rapidly.

Knowing what she cared about, Zhao Huairen was even less willing to answer.

“Is the Heir Apparent going to lie to me again?”

The little cat didn’t say anything harsh.

But it struck Zhao Huairen’s heart heavily.

Every carefully woven excuse crumbled into worthless moves before Yan Yiqing.

“That night entering the city, after you left, Qin An…” Zhao Huairen didn’t explain the whole story, but by the fifth word, Yan Yiqing had already—

Pieced together her entire plan.

Yes, there had been time to discuss it with her.

Yes, before promising not to hide things from her.

“The Heir Apparent truly speaks without leaks,” Yan Yiqing gently withdrew her palm. Her smile was uglier than crying. This time, she hadn’t figured out how to console herself. “No wonder that day you said ‘as much as possible.'”

The moment she made that decision,

Zhao Huairen had countless excuses in her heart.

But the instant Yan Yiqing stood before her, all prior reasons and excuses collapsed—

“Why does the Heir Apparent look sadder than me?” Yan Yiqing raised a brow at her, joking about her own grievance. Her voice was crisp: “The one not trusted is me. If anyone’s going to be sad, it should be me, right?”

The branches rustled in the wind.

Inside the bedroom, a silent battle unfolded.

Her slightly arched fine brows lazily conveyed nonchalance, but only Yan Yiqing knew how nervous she truly was. Every step closer to Zhao Huairen’s heart terrified her more than leading troops into battle.

Zhao Huairen’s phoenix eyes lowered. The cloud patterns on her sleeve crumpled in her grip.

As the first to hand over her heart,

Yan Yiqing knew she held no advantage from the start.

Thin clouds veiled the moon’s glow, dimming the bedroom light further, but she could still clearly see Zhao Huairen’s pursed lips and trembling long lashes.

The expectation in her eyes dimmed unknowingly.

If it made Huairen sad,

Even getting what she wanted wouldn’t bring joy.

“I—”

“How can I stop being angry?”

This simple sentence cleared the spring skies in Yan Yiqing’s heart. She blinked, pinching her thigh several times under the quilt to fully suppress her lip’s curve. “Haven’t thought of it yet, but at least… for this period, you have to take care of me.”

“Okay.” Zhao Huairen’s thin lips pursed slightly.

“And my hand is injured, so you have to help me comb my hair. It’s inconvenient to eat these days too…” Seeing no response from Zhao Huairen, Yan Yiqing coughed dryly, a trace of undetectable guilt flashing in her eyes.

“You’re my wife, injured because of me. I should take care of you anyway.”

Hearing this, that bit of guilt was swept away by overwhelming joy. Yan Yiqing sneaked a glance at her and muttered softly, “Hmph, good that you know.”

The light brown eyes flowed with moonlight.

Zhao Huairen stood, slowly walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?!”

She stopped at her exclamation. Zhao Huairen turned back, explaining warmly, “In the time it takes one incense stick to burn, Young Master Yan’s stomach growled twice. You’re hungry.”

Had her stomach growled?

Real or fake? She hadn’t noticed at all.

Gurgle gurgle! Even her body sided with Zhao Huairen. Facing its master’s doubt, her stomach immediately cheered for her.

“It’s so late. Where will the Heir Apparent find food?”

Zhao Huairen’s long lashes lowered. She didn’t answer directly, just vaguely said, “There should be food in the official residence.”

What good food could there be so late?

Besides, she wanted Huairen by her side more.

But after acting so angry earlier, being clingy now… wouldn’t that seem unreasonable?

“Mm, go ahead.” The little cat said with a pout.

Her gaze touched her then parted.

Zhao Huairen withdrew her eyes and walked toward the door.

The night breeze brushed her ear’s stray hairs. The moment she stepped out of the bedroom, the calm in her eyes turned to moonlight finer than silk.

—

Knock knock! The urgent knocking stood out in the night.

Huairen back so soon? Hearing it, Little Cat Yan immediately schooled her smile, face cold. “Come in.”

“General!” Xing Wanyang pushed the door open with both hands, charging straight to Yan Yiqing on the bed like a fledgling eagle returning to its nest. “How’s the General’s injury? It’s all my fault for being careless. Qiu Mingsong is truly mad—he even poisoned the well water the commoners drink…”

“Why is the General smiling?”

Realizing it was her, Yan Yiqing no longer hid her pleasure. “Good mood.”

They said the General was injured in the left shoulder.

But to her, it seemed more like a head injury?

“Don’t badmouth me in your head.” Yan Yiqing knew Xing Wanyang’s temperament well. She frowned slightly, merciless. “You really disappointed me this time, and you don’t even realize it. If not for the Heir Apparent’s other plans…”

Like an ostrich that lost its nest,

Xing Wanyang hung her head, shame written all over her face.