Page 19 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

They both halted.

Yun-si pressed her lips together and waved at Qing-he to go ahead.

Qing-he shifted uncomfortably. “I have a rather urgent need.” She lowered her voice. “Do you have any cotton padding? For monthly—” She gestured vaguely downward.

“Oh!” Yun-si’s eyes widened. “Of course. I can bring some from my rooms.”

“I asked your brother—” Qing-he grimaced. “He turned the color of a ripe plum and fled the room.”

Yun-si stifled a laugh, picturing her composed brother confronted with such a request. It struck her then, here was a real swordswoman, the kind she’d written about but never met. Real, not perfectly coiffed or spouting elegant poetry while dueling, but real with flesh and blood and monthly cycles.

“I have so many questions,” Yun-si blurted, her writer’s curiosity bursting at the seams. “Have you really studied the blade since childhood? Can you truly fly between treetops? Can you catch arrows in mid-flight?”

Qing-he blinked, confusion on her face. “Why would a lady want to know about the life of a vagrant swordswoman like me?”

Yun-si hesitated, weighing the risk of revealing her secret identity against her burning curiosity.

“I write huabens,” she admitted finally. “Adventure tales with heroines who wield swords and fight for justice.”

Qing-he’s expression shifted from wariness to surprised interest. “You? A noble daughter writingwuxiahuabens?”

“Under a pen name, of course.” Yun-si moved closer, lowering her voice. “No one knows except my childhood friend... well, and now you.”

A small smile curved Qing-he’s lips. “What kind of nonsense do you write about us?”

“Probably complete nonsense,” Yun-si admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “I imagine swordswomen sleeping under stars, traveling freely across provinces, defending the innocent...”

“The stars part is accurate, though it’s less romantic when it’s raining.” Qing-he winced as she adjusted her position. “And the traveling would be nicer without people trying to kill you.”

Yun-si’s eyes widened. “Is that what happened? Someone’s trying to kill you?”

Qing-he’s face darkened.

The realization hit Yun-si like cold water. Her proper, rule-following brother was harboring a fugitive. If their father discovered this...

“I need to leave soon,” Qing-he continued. “I’ve already risked your family enough.”

“You’re wounded,” Yun-si pointed out. “At least stay until you’ve healed. I can bring medicine, food, proper clothing—”

“Proper clothing?” Qing-he looked down at her men’s garments, a spark of amusement flashing through her pain. “You’d dress me like a proper maiden?”

“No! I meant—” Yun-si floundered for words, then her eyes narrowed suddenly. “Are those... those are my Big brother’s clothes when he was younger!” She looked at Qing-he in awe. Her brother—who kept his robes as pristine as his rooms, whoneverlet anybody touches hisanything, who was so fastidious his book boy actually stayed in the outer courtyard instead of with him—had given this stranger his clothing?

A blush crept up Qing-he’s face and her fingers pulled at her clothes unconsciously. “These were the only ones available here.”

“How did you meet my brother?” The question that had been burning in her mind finally escaped.

“I was... pursued into the city. Your brother found me bleeding in his study.” Qing-he said quietly.

Why didn’t he call the guards? Why is he sheltering you here?

The questions rose to her lips, but she hesitated. Maybe it was the guarded look in Qing-he’s eyes. Or the way her elder brother had looked at her when he’d asked for her discretion. Whatever this was, it wasn’t hers to pry into.

“Can I ask you some questions?” she said instead, already pulling her notebook from her sleeve. “What sword technique do you use? What kind of sects are there in the martial arts world—”

A quiet knock interrupted her interrogation. The door slid open to reveal Yun-shan, his expression a blend of concern and impatience.

“Sister,” he said pointedly, “our guest needs rest.” The stern elder brother look he gave her—the one that meantno arguments—made her scramble to her feet and stand straight.