Page 43 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

“You left the banquet,” he said. To Ting-zhi. To Yun-si. To both of them. “I noticed.”

Yun-si pressed her fingers to her brother’s sleeve. “He was drugged. At the palace. Someone put something in his wine and I—I couldn’t leave him.”

Yun-shan’s grip on her tightened by one degree.

Ting-zhi, still sitting on the edge of the bed, pressed his palm to his bleeding forearm. The blood flowed down his arms, leaving dark stains on his sleeves. His head was down, shoulders rigid but shaking.

“Drugged,” Yun-shan repeated.

“Yes.”

Silence stretched between them. Yun-shan studied the blood on Ting-zhi’s sleeve. The hairpin now lying on the bed. The ruined state of him. The tears still tracking dried lines down his face. He looked at the way Ting-zhi hadn’t moved toward heragain. The way he had used her pin on himself rather than on her.

“Make yourself presentable and go to your room,” he said to Yun-si. Quiet. Final.

“But—”

“I will handle this.” His tone allowed for nothing else.

She looked past his shoulder at Ting-zhi, who still hadn’t raised his head.

Then she left, turning her head back at every step for a glance of him.

Chapter 18

Ting-zhi stirred awake to the taste of bitter medicine in his mouth and a stabbing pain in his left arm. He blinked against the too bright sunlight, fragments of memory surfaced—peach blossoms, feverish skin, Si-er beneath him—

He bolted upright, heart hammering, only to find Shen Yun-shan seated next to him, expression unreadable.

“Si-er! Is she hurt?” His voice cracked with urgency.

“She’s unharmed.” Yun-shan poured tea, steam curling between them like a censer’s smoke. “But the Princess’s ladies-in-waiting saw her leaving the banquet with you in the same carriage. Gossip spreads faster than spring floods.”

Ting-zhi hissed as he shifted, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “I’ll ask my father to send the matchmaker today. Nullify any rumors—”

“Foolish.” Yun-shan set the celadon cup down with a sharpclick. “Propose now, and you confirm the scandal. The Princess will retaliate by requesting an imperial decree for your marriage toher. Any scandal involving Yun-si will end up with her as a concubine in the Princess’s household.”

Ting-zhi blanched,

Yun-shan traced the rim of his cup. “We leak a counter-rumor—you and Yun-si were already privately betrothed by both families before the exams. Childhood sweethearts, long-planned union. Any efforts on Princess Ming-yue’s part will become an affront to Shen Clan’s honor rather than a romantic scandal.”

“Your father would never consent.”

“I’ve seen the list of suitors my parents prepared. Second sons, fourth sons, sons from minor branches. They know Yun-si isn’t suited to be a clan matriarch. Yun-yao is already married to the Great General. My future wife...” Yun-shan gave a bitter laugh. “Will likely be from another powerful clan. Our family will be tied to more influence than the Emperor would be comfortable with. Your background—” He paused deliberately. “—works in your favor. You bring talent without threatening political entanglements.”

Yun-shan rose gracefully, “You should start to prepare the six rites as soon as possible. I’ll talk to my father and ensure the rumors reach the palace by noon.”

Ting-zhi’s breath caught. “And Yun-si?”

“She’ll agree to preserve her reputation and the family’s honor. What shefeels...” Yun-shan’s voice remained glacially calm. “...is irrelevant, until the contract is sealed.”

The door slid shut behind him. Ting-zhi collapsed on the bed, the ghost of Yun-si’s loosened hair clinging to his fevered memory like her scent.

HAD IT REALLY HAPPENED?

The fever. The tears. His hand sliding over her.

The heat of him. The desperation. The way he’d looked at her hair falling loose—like she was something sacred and forbidden all at once.