Page 33 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

He fisted his hands and hit the tree beside him.

She is just confused.He tried to tell himself.I can show her. Iwillshow her.

He would study harder. Place higher. Present himself to her father through the proper channels.

If he did not die of heartbreak first.

Chapter 14

The soft shuffle of footsteps and polite greetings of “Good Morning!” in that adorable voice announced Wen-xin’s arrival before the boy even knocked. Yun-si stood up from where she’d been staring at the same blank sheet of paper for the past hour, and opened the door.

“Third Maiden.” Wen-xin bowed and gifted her with a bright smile that showed off his dimples perfectly. He passed her a note with both hands. “Young Master asked me to deliver this.”

Yun-si’s fingers closed around the paper. Still warm from being tucked inside Wen-xin’s jacket. “Thank you.”

The boy lingered, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Is there something else?”

“Young Master said...” Wen-xin’s face scrunched up as he tried to remember the exact words. “He said if you look upset, I should tell you it’s temporary.”

Yun-si bit her lips. “I’m not upset.”

“You’re not smiling either.” He said seriously.

She opened her mouth, closed it in defeat and handed Wen-xin a candied date from the dish on her writing desk instead. “Go on, then.”

The note unfolded in her hands after the door clicked shut.

Si-er,

Examinations will begin in spring. Let us pause the research first and resume after.

Please do not scale the garden wall and demand I explain the finer points of dramatic fainting.

Don’t.

I’ll find you when this is over.

—Zhi

Yun-si read it twice. Then a third time.

Temporary, Wen-xin had said.

She folded the note along its original creases and tucked it between the pages of her current manuscript shakily.

She floated to her mother’s receiving rooms without really knowing how she got there. The morning passed in a blur of “Yes, Mother,” though she had absolutely no idea what the questions were. Yun-si sat on the chair beside Yun-jia, spine straight, hands folded in her lap as Lady Shen reviewed the household accounts with measured precision.

“The kitchen expenditure has increased.” Her mother’s voice carried no inflection, just statement of fact. “Yun-si, you will review the ledgers this afternoon.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Lady Shen set down the account book. Her gaze swept over her daughters—past Yun-jia’s barely concealed yawn, past the empty chair where Yun-yao would have sat before her marriage, and landed on Yun-si.

“Yun-si. Stay.”

Yun-jia shot her a look—good luck—and fled with indecent haste.