Chapter 12
“What are you thinking?” Qin Susu hadn’t expected one of Rong Zhao’s servants to dare to block her path. Completely disregarding the Carriage General’s orders to her, her arrogance surged instantly.
Zhi Xue still stood calmly before Qin Susu, neither humble nor overbearing, bowing her head without meeting her gaze.
The coachman shifted a few steps, tightening the silk curtain at the window.
Everyone in the Princess’s residence always supported each other, united like an iron fortress to the outside world. Yet he always felt that Master Pei, though he had stayed with them for half a year, remained like a moon suspended in midair—exquisite and graceful, untouched by the worldly smoke and dust of vulgar life.
The coachman hesitated to speak, thought for a moment, then felt that the young master was frail and sickly despite his youth. If the princess hadn’t been more compassionate, he might not have survived last winter. Truly pitiful.
After this reflection, he spoke soothingly, “Master Pei, please do not worry. I and Miss Zhi Xue will protect you thoroughly.”
Pei Mu Ci was slightly taken aback but leisurely turned a page in his scroll. “Thank you, Uncle Cheng.”
His voice was like raindrops falling on a porcelain plate—bearing a hint of detachment and a misty dampness.
The coachman scratched his head in delight, smiling with simple honesty.
Qin Susu, used to seeing only the rugged, sweat-drenched soldiers from the barracks with her father, had never heard such a melodious, gentle voice before. She couldn’t help but want to investigate further.
After all, even the emperor relied on her father to drive out the southern barbarians to secure his reign. Who would dare offend her for the sake of a man without background or status?
Only these two servants of the princess’s household were so ungrateful as to repeatedly block her way.
Fury flared within her. With head held high, she pointed at the two of them, “Nanny, teach these people a lesson.”
Zhi Xue was slight in stature and was easily shoved aside with an elbow, stumbling.
The guards at the gate, seeing two groups arguing fiercely, planted their spear shafts on the stone bricks with a resounding thud and shouted, “Who is causing noise here?!”
They stood tall and proud, approaching for a closer look, and only then realized it was the princess’s carriage and the eldest miss from the Carriage General’s household.
The guards immediately regretted shouting so loudly, realizing neither side could be offended. They quickly retreated and cowered like quails.
Uncle Cheng saw Zhi Xue fall to the ground and wanted to help, but first instinct was to stand by the curtain.
The princess’s belongings—how could he allow others to covet them?
Beside Qin Susu, a burly old nanny, seeing the young lady repeatedly interrupted, shouted sharply and raised her hand to slap the coachman’s face.
Her palm bore thick calluses visible to the naked eye. A solid slap from her would surely swell his face.
Uncle Cheng, the carriage driver of the household, was not skilled in combat and had no ability to dodge.
The raised hand, the old nanny’s grimacing face, and Qin Susu’s contemptuous expression—all moments passed slowly, each frame extraordinarily vivid.
He shrugged, prepared to endure the blow and buy some time.
Once the princess left the palace, these few would be dealt with.
Qin Susu felt both satisfied and relieved that the coachman did not evade the slap, as if the blow landed on Rong Zhao’s face instead.
Just as the old nanny’s hand was about to descend, a force as swift as a meteor struck it, eliciting a muffled cry.
The seemingly insignificant pebble-like object, neither striking with great force nor appearing threatening, nevertheless forced the fierce old nanny to stagger back, clutching her wrist in disbelief as she stared at the curtain at the back of the carriage.
If her guess was correct, that gust of wind had come from inside the carriage.
An unassuming beaded button rolled twice on the ground before wedging into the cracks between the stones, unnoticed by anyone.
Pei Mu Ci extended a hand, hooking it onto the carriage door, and slowly rolled up the felt curtain.
He seemed oblivious to the noise outside. His serene and handsome face emerged from the dimness, bearing an aloof and lofty demeanor.
Sunlight filtered through the hazy clouds, casting an obscure halo on his sharply sculpted features. The blurred outlines bestowed upon him a dreamy and ethereal beauty.
He nodded to Uncle Cheng, his eyelashes cold and sharp, his exquisite pupils gleaming with a gentle light, like jade pendants reflecting dazzling brilliance under sunlight.
The scroll in his hand was casually placed beside a low table. Pei Mu Ci arched his back slightly and stepped out of the carriage.
Clad in a plain, cool, and elegant robe, the white silk with excellent drape shimmered as he moved, reflecting a clear, rippling light like cool moonlight dancing on the surface of a lake.
The warm sun passed over his tall, slender figure, leaving no trace of warmth.
Those around nearly held their breath, afraid that even a breeze from their side might disturb this remote and ethereal celestial exile.
Pei Mu Ci quietly supported himself against the carriage wall, black eyes sparkling with faint light. He stood like a proud snow lotus on Tianshan Mountain, exuding a cold indifference that kept others at a distance.
He lowered his eyelids and smiled faintly, “So noisy.”
“Master Pei, why have you come out?” Zhi Xue was the first to break free from her shock. She had no time to ponder how Pei Mu Ci had warded off the nanny. The moment the nanny retreated, she quickly rose and, together with Uncle Cheng, stood in front of Pei Mu Ci.
Pei Mu Ci seemed lost in thought, staring blankly at the two who were much shorter than him. A flicker of confusion and contemplation passed through his eyes. “There is no need for this.”
He considered his martial skills good enough to handle these troublesome women without needing two feeble attendants to shield him.
Their presence only made him feel restrained.
Zhi Xue had no time to decipher his meaning; she only wished she could immediately shove him back into the carriage. “We all belong to the princess’s household. Of course, we must protect you.”
She spoke without careful wording, thinking only of the princess’s orders.
The thin ice in Pei Mu Ci’s eyes shattered as if hammered, revealing a deep, serene gentleness beneath.
Qin Susu was completely captivated, her attention fixed on that proud and dignified figure, oblivious to the conversation among the three.
She had never seen such a beautiful person before.
A perfect blend of strength and softness, natural and flawless.
Her heart surged with a burning heat, causing her fingertips to tremble.
Perhaps it was awe, perhaps jealousy.
“Hey, what good did Rong Zhao give you? I’ll offer you twice as much. Come be with me instead.”
Qin Susu spoke clearly and loudly.
Not only were Zhi Xue and Uncle Cheng stunned, but even the old nanny, who had retreated beside Qin Susu, was too shocked to respond.
Had their young mistress been blinded by Rong Zhao’s bullying to say such things?
To bully the princess’s servants when Rong Zhao was absent was one matter; to snatch this gentleman was beyond reason.
Pei Mu Ci did not seem offended. He stepped off the carriage onto the stone bricks, a gentle smile softening his lips as if indifferent to everything.
The old nanny tried to quietly tug at her young lady’s sleeve but was met with a sharp flick.
Qin Susu turned to reason with the nanny, “Rong Zhao has yet to receive an imperial decree. The emperor would never allow her to privately keep a favored companion. I’m going to report her—then I can have a gentleman with an otherworldly appearance and take revenge all at once. Two gains in one move!”
She grew more excited as she spoke, mistakenly thinking Pei Mu Ci’s silence meant consent. In truth, he was quietly gazing into the distance.
Following his gaze, one saw the endless palace walls and halls like a heavily fortified prison. Dark shadows contended with sunlight, continually swallowing the golden threads of light. Against this backdrop, a resplendent figure more radiant than the golden sun advanced gracefully from the backlight, bearing the weight of oppression yet moving with elegant poise.