The Fu Lu Prince’s Mansion.
The Prince had intended to keep his doors barred to visitors, but the house servants, knowing this was their future mistress, still stealthily opened a side door to let her in.
Upon seeing her, the advisor He Jian wore a playful expression. "I have long heard of Head Merchant Yin’s brilliant methods, yet it seems even our Prince is someone you cannot handle."
Yin Zhuli leaned close to his ear and smiled. "If I wanted to handle your Prince, I have a thousand ways to do so. It is simply that handling him would bring me more harm than benefit."
Even though the social customs of Great Xing were relatively liberal, Mister He was still startled by her ambiguous posture and took a step back. "Head Merchant, do not boast to deceive me. You likely have a good grasp of my master’s temperament. If he were unwilling, even if the King held a blade to his throat, I fear you would not be able to step through the gates of this mansion..."
Yin Zhuli patted his shoulder. "There is no need to provoke me, Mister. I shall go and 'smash' your mansion gates right now!"
With that, she didn't stop, heading straight for the inner courtyard.
The young Prince Shen had gone nowhere lately. Now, quite uncharacteristically, he was staring blankly in the garden. On the eighth day of the second month, he was to go to the Qu residence to escort the eldest Miss Qu to the palace on behalf of King Shen Tingyao. Shen Tingyao had made the consequences crystal clear—if he dared to defy the decree, he would be stripped of his titles, reduced to a commoner, and sent to Shandong!
In truth, he wasn't afraid of that, but Shen Tingyao intended to send Grand Consort He to Shandong along with him. This made the young Prince hesitate—with his mother’s frail constitution, she likely couldn't handle digging for coal.
The garden was guarded by his personal servant, Xiao He. Xiao He didn't dare let Yin Zhuli in, but Yin Zhuli had her ways.
The Ninth Prince was currently painting; half a portrait of a beauty sat upon the low table. Gazing at the withered plants throughout the courtyard, the young Prince was feeling despondent. He felt his life was just like these scattered, broken branches and fallen leaves. Seeing the cold weather and heavy mist, he felt even more melancholy, mourning the passing of spring and grieving for autumn. Suddenly, with a *thump*, someone jumped down from the wall, landing right in front of him.
Their eyes met. The Ninth Prince’s wisp of sorrow was like a spark hitting the dry branches in the yard, erupting into a roaring flame. "You bastard! Who gave you permission to come in?!"
Yin Zhuli shrugged. "I was merely testing how high your mansion walls were, and I accidentally flipped over them without thinking. This isn't my fault; it’s really because your walls aren't built well!"
The young Prince was choked with rage. "Then why haven't you gotten lost yet!"
Yin Zhuli brushed the dirt off her hands and, without ceremony, took the wine flask from his side, pouring wine to wash her hands. "Don't be like this, Ninth Highness. People who don't know better would think you're a woman, all this nagging and whining."
"What!" Shen Tingjiao hated such words most of all and immediately jumped up. "Yin Zhuli, get out! Get as far away as possible!"
Yin Zhuli wasn't annoyed. She sat down beside the young Prince with a grin. "Oh, Your Highness is painting? Don't let me spoil the mood. Come, come, continue."
Shen Tingjiao knew he couldn't drive her away. In a war of words, she was sharp-tongued; in a fight, he was defenseless. Thinking of this, he could only turn his head away in resentment. He no longer had the heart to paint, so he set down his brush and began warming wine over the stove.
Unfortunately, Yin Zhuli was an expert at poking where it hurt. She immediately asked, "Are you really going to welcome the bride for your royal brother?"
Hearing this, the young Prince’s wine turned into draughts of sorrow, and he inadvertently drank several cups in a row. Wine is a strange thing; the more one drinks, the more one craves it. Finally, his hand slipped, spilling the wine into the boiling water on the stove. Yin Zhuli even poked him with a finger. "Come, come, keep going."
Shen Tingjiao leaned against her, already muddled with intoxication. "Why? Since we were young, I have never competed with you for anything. Why must you make things difficult for me at every turn?" He clutched Yin Zhuli’s collar, his eyes shimmering like pearls soaked in water. "You want to marry the person I hold dearest to my heart? Fine, marry her then! Just marry her! But why must you make me go and fetch her for you? Tell me! Tell me!"
He shook Yin Zhuli incessantly. She gripped his wrists. "You're drunk. I'll take you back to your room."
By the courtyard gate, Xiao He saw that he was truly heavily intoxicated and wanted to come over to help. Yin Zhuli waved him off. "I can take the Ninth Prince back to his room myself. You don't need to follow and serve."
Though Xiao He felt it was inappropriate, he didn't dare contradict her. He could only watch helplessly as she carried Shen Tingjiao toward the bedroom with large strides.
Inside the room, the candlelight was hazy. Yin Zhuli placed Shen Tingjiao on the couch. He wrapped his arms around her neck, calling her "darling" and "sweetheart," though who knew who he had mistaken her for. She remained unfazed, responding with a shallow smile, "Mhm, be a good darling. Let me change your clothes..."
Shen Tingjiao indeed allowed her to undress him obediently. She changed him into his sleeping robes and pulled the quilt over him. As he lay on the bed, his black hair spread out like ink, his skin white as snow, and his cheeks flushed like autumn clouds. Under the candlelight, he truly looked like a peach blossom—possessing ten thousand kinds of charm.
The Head Merchant’s eyes held a smile. She reached out to pat his face, calling softly, "Ninth Highness? Shen Tingjiao?" There was no reaction from the man on the bed; he was a well-behaved drunk. Yin Zhuli suddenly reached out and made a scratch across his snowy-white neck. Where her fingertip passed, a red mark immediately appeared.
He seemed to feel the pain and shrank back slightly, hiding pitifully into the bed.
Yin Zhuli stroked his long hair to soothe him. A moment later, she pushed aside the clothing on his left shoulder and leaned down to bite him. This bite was extremely heavy; the wound immediately seeped blood. But with his senses dulled by alcohol, Shen Tingjiao only let out a groan and reached out to touch it. Yin Zhuli stroked his hair again, soothing him in a low voice, "Alright, go to sleep."
She swept a teacup off the table, letting it shatter on the floor. Picking up a shard, she lightly cut her thumb and pressed two or three drops of blood onto the bedsheets. Stepping out of the room, she closed the door behind her, preparing to leave the mansion. Xiao He only dared to approach when he saw her coming out from a distance, but he saw her expression was gloomy. She didn't say a word to anyone, heading straight out of the mansion.
Not to mention the servants, even He Jian was filled with suspicion—what had happened?
Yin Zhuli went directly back to her estate. She first went to pay her respects to Madam Yin, then went to find Tang Yin. Tang Yin was in the study of the Guilai Residence. Seeing the winter jasmine blooming vibrantly in the courtyard, Yin Zhuli took the flower shears, selected the most flourishing branch, and cut it. When she entered the room, she casually tucked it into the vase on the desk.
Tang Yin sat at the desk. Without even lifting his head, he said, "Where did you go to play this time? You've come back reeking of wine."
Yin Zhuli’s spirits remained high. "Master, I met a truly loathsome person today!" She stepped forward to grab Tang Yin’s arm, her voice filled with resentment. "At that moment, I wished I could grab him by the collar, smash a fist into his nose, kick him until he's impotent, flip him onto the ground, stomp on his chest, and finally spit a thick glob of phlegm right in his face!"
Tang Yin finally set down his book, his smile warm and gentle. "Let Master guess who has the ability to make our Head Merchant Yin this angry." He reached out to ruffle Yin Zhuli’s hair, the smile on his lips deepening. "It must be that 'Nine Dragons' fellow?"
Yin Zhuli was still fuming. "Don't even mention him. What a piece of work. He even had the nerve to say he knew I was unwilling to marry Shen Tingjiao. Who does he think he is!"
Tang Yin patted her head, his voice steady and calm. "Then we won't mention him. If he is of no consequence, why bother getting angry with him?"
Yin Zhuli thought about it and found it made sense, so she dropped the subject. Tang Yin found a copy of *Wuzi* on the bookshelf. When he turned back, he found Yin Zhuli leaning over the desk, looking drowsy.
He lightly tapped her shoulder. "Don't sleep here."
Yin Zhuli murmured indistinctly, "I'll just lie here for a bit."
Just then, Madam Yin’s head maid, Xi Yue, called out crisply from outside the door, "Mister Tang, the Old Madam has ordered the Head Merchant to come to the Listening Waves Pavilion."
Yin Zhuli stood up, about to answer, but Tang Yin said gently, "The Head Merchant has not finished her lessons today. Report back to the Old Madam that she will go over later."
Hearing this, Xi Yue’s voice turned somewhat displeased. She had served Madam Yin for many years; though she was a head maid, Madam Yin actually treated her like a daughter and had always doted on her. Consequently, she was not as cautious in front of Yin Zhuli as the others. "Head Merchant, you should head over as soon as possible, lest you make the Old Madam unhappy again."
Seeing that she did not show Tang Yin any respect, Yin Zhuli’s face immediately darkened. "Did you not hear my Master’s words?"
Xi Yue stiffened. She didn't respond, simply turning around and leaving.
Yin Zhuli naturally ignored her and leaned back down to continue sleeping. Tang Yin tapped her to wake her up. "Go sleep in the back."
She was lazy and didn't want to move. "I'm not cold."
Tang Yin sighed. He leaned down, picked her up, and placed her on the daybed in the back used for afternoon naps, pulling a quilt over her.
While she was sleeping soundly, things were not going well for the young Prince Shen. When Shen Tingjiao woke up, he realized the bed was a mess. Filled with uncertainty, he got up to look and found his shoulder aching intensely. He hastily called Xiao He inside.
Xiao He was naturally completely in the dark and only told him what he knew. Shen Tingjiao racked his brains for a long time but truly couldn't remember a single useful thing. He sent Xiao He out and felt all over his body, finding nothing unusual. Just as he was beginning to feel relieved, he inadvertently spotted several spots of dried blood on the bedsheets.
The young Prince’s expression changed drastically. Could it be that while he was drunk, he had actually done something shameful and muddled?
"That's impossible..." He raised his hand and touched the scratch on his neck. The more he thought about it, the more apprehensive he became.
***
