Chapter 54: The Heir's Impertinence

All the proper courtesies had been observed, and seeing that dusk had fallen, Shen Qianmo finally returned in peace to her own small courtyard—Wind Lotus Court.

During her absence, Madam Xu and Qingluo had managed the courtyard with meticulous care. Shen Qianmo took a bath to wash away the dust of her travels, then had Qingluo brew a pot of tea. Sitting in the garden, sipping her tea and admiring the blossoms, she felt utterly refreshed; the exhaustion of her journey seemed to vanish like mist.

“Qingluo, your tea-brewing skills have grown ever better,” Shen Qianmo sighed in contentment after a sip, turning to offer her praise.

Qingluo smiled softly, bowing with a grace and poise that spoke of tranquility.

What a pity, Shen Qianmo thought to herself, that such a beautiful girl should be mute.

As its name suggested, Wind Lotus Court could hardly be without lotuses. It was high summer, and the pond’s lotuses were in full bloom—slender pink flowers rising elegantly from a sea of green, like stars clustered around the moon.

“Breezes stir ripples upon the pond, dew drips on round leaves between the waves; who unfurls a green canopy upon the water, veiling the red-dressed maidens singing as they gather lotus?”

Faced with such beauty, Shen Qianmo could not help but wax poetic, stroking the soft white fur of Little Darling nestled in her arms as she recited a few lines.

Little Darling opened its emerald eyes, mewed twice at her, then promptly closed them and drifted back to sleep.

Is this little thing a cat, not a fox? How can it be so lazy! Shen Qianmo tugged its ear in amused exasperation, provoking a displeased wave of its paw in protest.

She caught its little leg; the green-eyed spirit fox could not move, so it glared at her in grievance, panting in short, aggrieved huffs.

Shen Qianmo couldn’t contain her laughter. This little creature was simply too adorable!

Beneath a large tree outside the courtyard gate, Meng Yunce stood quietly, watching the affectionate scene between girl and fox, utterly mesmerized.

This woman was too beautiful for words.

Meng Yunce, who had spent years among flowers and beauties, had seen countless women; yet before Shen Qianmo, he felt himself a green, callow youth, shaken to the core.

Thinking back to his rash annulment of their engagement, realizing what an unparalleled beauty he had let slip, he felt a pang in his heart and staggered, accidentally snapping a twig underfoot—a sound that rang clear in the tranquil garden.

Alerted, Shen Qianmo looked over. Her time on Wujii Island had greatly sharpened her vigilance and reflexes.

When she saw who it was under the tree, her delicate brows knit. Meng Yunce? What was he doing here?

Seeing his peeping had been discovered, Meng Yunce was unembarrassed. He strode into the courtyard, staring fixedly at Shen Qianmo.

The beauty was right before him; Meng Yuanheng’s gaze seemed glued to her, unable to look away.

Shen Qianmo found his intense stare nauseating, her brows furrowing even tighter. Her expression frosty, she said in a flat tone, “To what do I owe the honor of the Young Lord Meng’s visit?”

Meng Yunce saw her cold demeanor and felt stifled. In a low voice, he asked, “That day, you wore a veil—was it deliberate? Did you want me to believe your face was ruined, to induce me to break off the engagement?”

What? Shen Qianmo was briefly bewildered, then, realizing his meaning, she almost laughed in anger.

Was he now blaming her for not explaining herself better and thus leading him to annul their betrothal? She sneered, “Had I not worn a veil then, I fear I might have startled the Young Lord Meng. Such a crime, I could not bear.”

“Then why are you now… so beautiful?” Meng Yunce accused, his tone wounded and aggrieved, as if he had been deceived.

“I never said my scars were beyond healing, did I?” Shen Qianmo was at a loss for words at his lack of sense. “This courtyard is secluded, not a place for you to linger. Please leave. Qingluo, see the guest out.” Seeing his unreasonable manner, she could not be bothered to argue further and gathered up Little Darling to return indoors.

Qingluo stepped forward and gestured politely for Meng Yunce to leave, but he could no longer bear Shen Qianmo's coldness toward him. In a fit of anger, emboldened by lust, he shoved Qingluo aside and strode toward Shen Qianmo, a dark and dangerous light in his eyes.

“Young Lord Meng, have some respect,” Shen Qianmo warned sternly, retreating a few steps. This man was too reckless—this was the Duke’s manor; how could he act so wantonly?

Meng Yunce, ever the libertine, prided himself on his charm—women always blushed and played coy before him, never had he suffered such icy disdain. He did not know what had come over him, but faced with Shen Qianmo’s cold beauty, he felt suffocated and the darkness on his face deepened; his words became even more shameless.

“What a pity that Lady Shen, as lovely as a celestial maiden, is to marry that cripple Meng Yuanheng. I hear he’s not even a real man—what a waste of such beauty. Why not let me have a taste of you first?”

Shen Qianmo was taken aback by his brazenness. While she was stunned, Meng Yunce lunged at her like a starving wolf.

Suddenly, Little Darling leapt from her arms like an arrow, its sharp claws raking bloody lines across Meng Yunce’s face. Having struck, it immediately returned to Shen Qianmo’s embrace, baring its fangs at him in open hostility.

Qingluo, having been roughly shoved to the ground, could not move at first. Seeing Meng Yunce’s outrageous behavior, she struggled to her feet and shielded Shen Qianmo.

Meng Yunce wiped the blood from his face, furious. His looks were his pride, and now this wretched little fox had scratched him—how could he show his face again?

All the more determined to have her, he advanced on Shen Qianmo, his eyes glinting with rage and bloodlust.

Though a notorious idler, Meng Yunce had trained in martial arts since childhood and was no weakling. Little Darling’s earlier attack had succeeded only because he was caught off guard. Now wary, he would not be so easily ambushed again.

He closed in, shoving Qingluo aside, intent on seizing Shen Qianmo.

But as he neared, Shen Qianmo remained unruffled, poised to throw him with a shoulder toss at the right moment. Before she could act, however, Meng Yunce’s legs buckled and he dropped to his knees with a thud.

Two small stones rolled across the flagstones—he had been struck in the acupoints of his legs, and with such force that he could not rise, only kneel there, grimacing in pain.

He glared at her in astonishment and fury. “What did you do to me?” he shouted.

Hearing the commotion, Madam Xu and Lüzhu hurried out from the inner rooms. Startled by the scene, they rushed to help Qingluo up. “Miss, what happened?” they asked anxiously.

Shen Qianmo did not so much as glance at Meng Yunce. Her expression calm, she said, “The Young Lord Meng was walking in the garden and suffered a sudden attack of leg pain by Wind Lotus Court. Madam Xu, Lüzhu, please help him to the front courtyard and have the physician take a look.”

She did not wish to make a scene. If word of this got out, it would harm both her own reputation and that of the Prince Xuan’s household. As for Meng Yunce, she would need to be more wary of him in the future.

Madam Xu and Lüzhu each took one side and half-dragged Meng Yunce away. As he left, his face was still a picture of disbelief, unable to comprehend how he had been so easily subdued. He shot Shen Qianmo a venomous glare, vowing to himself that one day he would taste her for himself.

Qingluo, having been twice thrown down, was too frail to recover quickly. Shen Qianmo sent her off to rest.

The courtyard fell quiet once more. Shen Qianmo sat at the stone table and addressed the empty air: “You may come out now.”

In an instant, a man in black dropped silently from above, kneeling before her.

She took his measure. He was about twenty, fine-featured and slender.

“Subordinate Xue Hao, secret guard of Prince Xuan’s manor, greets the Princess.”

Shen Qianmo nodded; so her guess was correct—Meng Yuanheng had indeed assigned someone to protect her in secret.

“You may rise,” she said, uncomfortable with someone kneeling before her. “Was it you just now?”

“It was. I beg Your Highness’s pardon for alarming you,” Xue Hao replied, bowing his head.

“Thank you for your timely assistance,” Shen Qianmo said coolly. She believed she could have protected herself, but Xue Hao’s intervention had saved her much trouble. She added, “There’s no need to report today’s events to the Prince.”

She did not want Meng Yuanheng to know she had nearly been assaulted by Meng Yunce; knowing his temper, who could say how furious he would become?

Xue Hao had never felt so torn in his life. As a secret guard of Prince Xuan’s manor, he was bound to obey the prince’s every command, and had been instructed to report even the smallest detail. Yet today, the princess had told him not to inform the prince of so grave a matter.

What was he to do?

Fortunately, Xue Hao was not one to be bound by rigid thinking. The princess had only said not to report to the prince; surely it would be acceptable to tell the chief commander instead?

How clever he was! He was almost moved to tears by his own ingenuity. So he went and reported the matter to Yan Mo.

Thus, that very night, Meng Yuanheng learned of Meng Yunce’s attempt to molest Shen Qianmo at the Duke’s manor. In his fury, he crushed the armrest of his wheelchair out of shape.

Meng Yunce, since you are so eager to court death, do not blame me for being ruthless. In the dim candlelight, Meng Yuanheng’s eyes glinted with a chilling, steely light.