Chapter 11: Deeply Rooted Affection

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Pier was still unsettled, but Song Qiao reacted first. She swallowed a mouthful of imaginary saliva and slowly stepped out from behind the rockery.

“Why is it you?” Seeing her, Mu Yi’s expression darkened further. “Who gave you permission to come out?”

“The matriarch asked me to come over and speak. I apologize for disturbing you, Marquis, and hope you can forgive me.”

Perhaps having just experienced a brush with death, Song Qiao was even more intimidated by Mu Yi now.

For the first time, she fully realized that he could crush her as easily as one would an ant.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” Mu Yi sneered lightly, deliberately making things difficult after noticing her pale, frightened face. “What if I refuse to forgive you?”

Song Qiao glanced at him timidly. Was he still angry about her scheme last time?

“Marquis, forgive me. Just now I was startled by a wild cat that suddenly ran past,” Pier suddenly knelt with a thud. “Although the young madam admires you, she has no intention of disturbing you or Mrs. Shen. I hope, Marquis, you can see through this.”

Song Qiao and Mu Yi both seized upon those two key words. His gaze slid teasingly across Song Qiao’s face. “Admires me?”

Pier nodded emphatically and recounted to Mu Yi everything Song Qiao had told the matriarch in Shou’an Hall.

Clearly, Mu Yi believed it.

As the words fell, an eerie silence spread. Shen Ruoxi’s qin music had long ceased, and she was watching Song Qiao with an inscrutable expression.

“Such generous affection is rare indeed,” Mu Yi said after a long pause, suddenly breaking from his usual manner. “I haven’t seen the young madam for some time. In that case, stay and serve tea.”

Judging by his expression, Song Qiao sensed trouble.

“My tea skills are poor; I’m afraid it won’t be to your liking, Marquis.”

“Whether it suits me or not, I won’t know until I drink it,” the man seemed to see through her little schemes. “Were your words all just meant to deceive my mother?”

“...”

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Song Qiao had no choice but to go brew the tea. It wasn’t difficult for her, but Mu Yi’s tastes were even more exacting than she had imagined.

She brewed three pots in a row, each time being asked to redo it. Either too strong or too weak—he was more difficult to please than an emperor.

Her coordination with Shen Ruoxi, however, was seamless. Every movement perfectly matched the rhythm of the music. Rather than practicing swordplay, it was more like a performance, all aimed at coaxing a smile from Shen Ruoxi.

The contrast between the two was striking.

“You’re sweating so much, be careful not to catch a cold.”

Shen Ruoxi chided him, drawing out a handkerchief as if to wipe his sweat.

Mu Yi waved her off with a large hand, lifted his chin, and pointed to Song Qiao, who was closer to him. “You can’t get up easily, let her do it.”

Shen Ruoxi paused, surprised like Song Qiao, but obediently sat back down, not feeling threatened.

Song Qiao set down the teapot and approached with the handkerchief.

The man didn’t take it, staring at her motionless, clearly expecting her to serve him.

Mu Yi was taller than Song Qiao, and since he refused to accommodate, she had to tiptoe, stretching her hand awkwardly. She nearly lost her balance several times, almost “falling into his arms.”

Her face flushed crimson. She dared not say anything, only hoping his “revenge” would end soon so she could regain her freedom.

“What’s that expression?” Mu Yi deliberately targeted her tonight. “After just a couple of orders, you look so wronged?”

“I’m not wronged. It’s rare to have the chance to serve you, Marquis. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Getting scared so easily now, what about when you have to sleep with me—will you cry on my bed?”

Sleep with me? Song Qiao’s mind exploded like thunder.

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“What, don’t want to consummate with me?” The man sensed her stunned look and immediately caught on.

Song Qiao took a long moment to find her voice. “Didn’t you say you didn’t like me, Marquis?”

“Who says the young madam doesn’t have deep feelings for me?” Mu Yi half-joking, half-serious, fixed her with a sharp gaze. His black eyes were piercing. “Suddenly, I don’t want to neglect you anymore.”

Those words struck Song Qiao like the world collapsing. The handkerchief in her hand suddenly felt unbearably heavy, and she lost all strength to raise it.

A deathly silence spread from the two of them outward. Song Qiao even heard her own disordered but forceful heartbeat.

Until a sneeze from Shen Ruoxi broke the tension.

“I’ll arrange this matter as soon as possible. Don’t think about trying any tricks.”

The man gave her one last deep look, then took up the heavy cloak beside him and strode toward Shen Ruoxi.

“Ah Yi, where is the jade pendant from your waist?” When she reached him, Shen Ruoxi’s sharp eyes noticed something missing.

Mu Yi glanced at her casually. “Probably dropped it.”

“I saw it on the carriage; it’s most likely lost inside the mansion,” she said anxiously. “That’s an imperial gift. You’d better send someone trustworthy to look for it quickly.”

Trustworthy?

Mu Yi naturally fixed his gaze on his “legal wife.” “What are you waiting for?”