Page 55 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

Ting-zhi leaned against the well, arms crossed, watching as the boys danced around, their faces red with humiliation.“Huh,” he said, voice dripping with false concern, “maybe someone peed themselves.”

The classroom went silent.

Then laughter erupted. A girl giggled. A boy snorted. Then another. Until the whole class was laughing.

Shen Li’s face burned. “I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” Ting-zhi tilted his head, all wide-eyed curiosity. “Didn’t wet yourself? Then why are your pants damp?”

The boys froze, their faces pale. Shen Li opened his mouth, then closed it, his eyes darting to the giggling crowd.

Ting-zhi smiled, sweet as poisoned honey. “Better change your robes before Master Liu sees. Wouldn’t want him thinking you’re still babies.”

The boys bolted, their humiliation complete.

Yun-si stared at him, her mouth slightly open. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at her lips.

Ting-zhi winked, then leaned down, his voice low. “Don’t let them see you cry,” he said. “They’ll only do it again.”

Yun-si nodded, her fingers tightening around her book. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ting-zhi shrugged, but his chest felt warm. “Mmm. Worth it.” He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at her. “And Shen Yun-si?”

She looked up.

“Next time, call me.”

Chapter 25

Yun-si glanced nervously at the four guards forming a protective shield around her and Yun-yao in the streets. The tall men kept pace around them, discouraging anyone from coming too close and screening the sisters from curious eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” she whispered.

“Your eldest brother-in-law wanted eight guards,” Yun-yao said, somehow managing to simultaneously roll her eyes in exasperation while patting her rounded belly gently. “Four is the bare minimum he would accept before allowing me to come shopping with you. Consider this a victory.”

It was, in every other respect, a perfectly ordinary afternoon. The kind made for idle errands and sisterly company.

At the entrance of Golden House Books, Yun-yao stopped and turned to the guards with quiet authority. “Wait here for us.”

“Yes, Lady Wei.”

The guard saluted her and took up position outside the door with the other three immediately.

Yun-yao glided past the threshold, leaving Yun-si gaping at how the Great General’s Household Guards obeyed her sister without hesitation.

“You are good,” she said with admiration.

“You’ll be surprised what I am good at,” Yun-yao murmured with an enigmatic smile.

Yun-si’s confession had slipped out one evening over steaming cups of chrysanthemum tea, when she was at theGeneral’s Residence to “relieve Yun-yao from the boredom of pregnancy”. She had intended to ask Yun-yao for advice about managing her dowry shops and her unusual choice of a bookshop.

She had expected shock and disapproval. After all, what proper young lady would risk her reputation by secretly penning scandalous huabens? But Yun-yao had only set down her teacup with deliberate care, her dark eyes shining with unbridled excitement.

“You’re Recluse in Clouds?” Yun-yao had breathed, gripping Yun-si’s wrist so tightly the teacup nearly toppled. “The one who wrote Sword Lady Mei’s adventures? That’s my favorite! Do you know how many times I’ve reread the part where she disguises herself as a merchant to infiltrate the bandits’ lair?”

Yun-si had stared, stunned, as her usually composed sister quoted entire passages from memory with the fervor of a devoted reader. It was the first time Yun-si had ever seen Yun-yao gush like a little girl, and the sight had been both terrifying and oddly heartening.

This little expedition had been Yun-yao’s idea—“If you’re going to revive Autumn Leaf, you should know the competition,” she had said, her voice calm and measured as usual. “Go see which authors are selling well. Study their shelf placement. And see if there’s anyone besides Moonlit Brush worth approaching. You can’t put all your eggs in one basket.”