Chapter Twenty-Three: Close Encounter

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The night was so quiet it seemed as if it would swallow her whole.

Rong Jiu curled up in the corner of her bed, eyes darting warily around the room. At this moment, she was alone; Amu, worried she would go hungry after not eating all evening, had gone to the kitchen to fetch her something to eat.

Suddenly, a cold gust swept through the room, rattling the western window and sending the candlelight flickering erratically. Fear prickled her skin, and Rong Jiu hastily pulled the quilt up in front of her.

With so many guards outside, surely no assassin could get in. Perhaps it was just the wind, and she was overthinking.

She tried to reassure herself.

Just then, a dark shadow flashed by, making her shriek in terror. But before the sound left her throat, a broad palm covered her mouth.

“Shh! Don’t scream, it’s me.”

Rong Jiu cautiously opened her eyes to find Song Moting’s face looming close.

“Are you out of your mind? You nearly scared me to death!” Relief washed over her.

“Heh, sorry! It’s just that the guards here are too tight, so I had to sneak in like this,” Song Moci blinked his big, innocent eyes.

“Seriously, what are you doing here in the middle of the night? Aren’t you afraid someone might mistake you for an assassin and kill you?” Rong Jiu glared at him, annoyed.

“I heard you hadn’t eaten all night and got worried, so I brought you something special,” Song Moci said, his tone full of mystery.

“What special thing?” Curiosity immediately overtook Rong Jiu.

“Ta-da!”

Song Moci pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a large portion of dark brown pastries.

“What is that?” Rong Jiu was slightly disappointed. She had hoped for more, but it was just some snacks.

“This is sour plum cake. It’s delicious—try it?” Song Moci’s eyes shone with anticipation.

Under his eager gaze, Rong Jiu carefully picked up a piece and popped it into her mouth. The sweet and sour flavor melted on her tongue, soft and fragrant, making her appetite surge. After finishing one piece, she immediately craved more.

“Mmm... it’s so good!”

Her eyes lit up, and she couldn’t resist grabbing another piece.

“If you like it, eat as much as you want. Hey—slow down, don’t choke,” Song Moci chuckled, watching Rong Jiu wolf down the pastries, finding her incredibly endearing. A gentle smile played at his lips.

In no time, Rong Jiu had polished off the entire plate. Rubbing her now-round belly, she felt utterly content.

“By the way, I remember you took a blow from that masked man to save me—how is it? Was it serious?” Suddenly recalling what had happened, Rong Jiu asked anxiously.

Seeing her concern, Song Moci felt a warmth in his heart. Puffing his chest, he declared, “A blow like that can’t take me down! Ouch—”

Perhaps he’d hit an injury, for he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Hahaha, serves you right for showing off!” Rong Jiu couldn’t help but laugh, covering her mouth as she watched his awkwardness.

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“It’s nothing, really. Such a minor wound will be fine in a day or two,” Song Moci said, awkwardly touching the tip of his nose and trying to maintain his composure.

But only he knew how much it hurt. He hadn’t even had time to tend to it; all night, he’d been leading men in a citywide hunt for the assassin, worrying about Rong Jiu’s safety, and hadn’t even rested—much less dealt with his injury—before running over with snacks for her.

“Stop pretending. Let me see,” Rong Jiu said, reaching out to pull open his clothes.

Song Moci jumped, eyes wide with disbelief. But Rong Jiu, being from the modern world, cared little for ancient taboos.

“Ahem, I—I’ll do it myself.” Flustered, Song Moci gently moved her hand away, then opened his shirt to reveal a bruise that had turned a deep purplish-red.

“That bad? It must hurt terribly.”

Rong Jiu’s mouth dropped open in shock. She reached out to touch it, and the close proximity made the atmosphere suddenly intimate. Song Moci tensed all over; as soon as her small hand brushed his chest, he shivered, making Rong Jiu think she’d hurt him. She quickly apologized.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to. Have you put any medicine on it?”

“No, I haven’t had time.”

Song Moci turned his face away, embarrassed, his ears burning red.

“With such a bad injury, you really should take care of it.” Rong Jiu hopped out of bed and began rummaging through the dressing table.

“What are you looking for?” Song Moci asked, still touching his burning ears.

“I’m looking for a treasure,” Rong Jiu replied, head down, “Ah, found it!”

She grabbed a small bottle from the corner of the drawer and happily sat beside him.

“Don’t move. I’ll apply the medicine—it’s very effective!”

She opened the bottle, squeezed a little ointment onto her finger, and gently spread it over his wound.

“No need to be nervous. It doesn’t hurt at all,” she said, noticing his tense posture and mistaking it for fear of pain. She softened her movements even more.

Rong Jiu was meticulous, her calm breaths brushing over his chest. Song Moci had never been this close to a woman; his heart pounded wildly, nervous but strangely happy. At that moment, she looked especially enchanting in his eyes.

“All done!” Rong Jiu closed the bottle and pressed it into his hand. “Keep it—you saved my life, so consider this a thank-you. It’s really precious; if you ever get hurt again, use it, but not too often. Otherwise, you’ll become reliant on it.”

Song Moci examined the bottle, the lingering scent at his nose, the coolness on his chest soothing the pain.

“What medicine is this? It works wonders!”

“Of course! My elder sister gave it to me—it’s precious and is used specifically for bruises and injuries,” Rong Jiu said proudly.

“Did you get hurt a lot before?” Song Moci asked gently, reasoning that only someone who was often injured would carry such medicine.

Rong Jiu lowered her head, recalling her days in Xining—running wild with her brothers by day, curling up in her sister’s arms at night complaining of aches and pains, and the bruises she got training with Mo Ningshu. Those days, though full of small injuries, had been happy.

Seeing her lost in thought, Song Moci knew she was homesick. He ran a large hand through her messy hair and asked, “Will you tell me about your life in Xining?”

Rong Jiu looked up into his gentle eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she realized she didn’t dislike Song Moci as much as she once had.

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Composing herself, she launched into her stories with animated gestures and lively expressions.

Outside the door, Amu sat on the steps, bathed in bright moonlight. She had already dismissed the patrolling guards, confident that tonight was perfectly safe.

Laughter drifted from inside the room, and every time it rang out, Amu smiled along. It seemed the princess would soon step out from her shadow.

Amu couldn’t help but think so, propping her chin in her hand.

No one knew how long they talked. Eventually, Rong Jiu grew so sleepy she couldn’t keep her eyes open and dozed off leaning against Song Moci’s shoulder. Her small head slid off, and he caught her just in time, carefully settling her in his lap. She shifted, found a comfortable spot, and slept soundly.

Song Moci hardly dared to move, afraid of waking her. It was the first time he’d ever been this close to Rong Jiu. Her face was round and still carried a hint of baby fat, her long black hair tumbling freely, making her look like a delicate porcelain doll—someone one would want to treasure.

Entranced, Song Moci gently stroked her soft hair, his eyes brimming with tenderness.

If Meng Zigui were here, he’d probably be so shocked his mouth could fit an egg.

The next morning, Rong Jiu slept in until the sun was high. When she woke, she was alone; everything from the night before seemed like a dream—yet it felt so real.

“Amu?”

She rubbed her tousled hair and called out tentatively.

“Princess, you’re awake?” Amu entered, wrung out a towel, and handed it over for Rong Jiu to wash her face.

Taking the towel, Rong Jiu asked as she washed, “Amu, did anyone come last night?”

“No, Princess. I went to the kitchen for some pastries, and when I got back, you were already asleep. So I guarded you,” Amu replied. Song Moci had reminded her before leaving not to mention his visit, lest it affect Rong Jiu’s reputation.

Rong Jiu grew confused—had it all been a dream?

While Amu was out with the washbasin, Rong Jiu sat at her dressing table and rummaged through the drawers. The spot in the corner where the medicine bottle should have been was empty.

So it wasn’t a dream after all. Could it be that Amu truly didn’t know?

Rong Jiu scratched her head and decided to keep the matter to herself.

In the main hall, Rong Le, Rong Xian, and Song Moting were discussing business.

“So, you’re saying they all committed suicide by poison?” Rong Le frowned deeply.

“Yes. When the soldiers arrived, their leader had already escaped. The rest were either dead or injured; those who were caught alive killed themselves in prison. Clearly, they were well-prepared,” Song Moting replied, a cold gleam in his eyes. “Besides, those men didn’t look like people from Youzhou. They resembled men from Mingyue Kingdom.”

“Despicable! The people of Mingyue Kingdom are utterly heartless!” Rong Xian slammed the table, enraged, wishing he could tear them apart.

“Now that word has spread, and after searching all night without finding them, they’ve likely already escaped the city. We don’t know their numbers or their hiding places. Since they failed last night, they’ll surely try again. This is more troublesome than we thought,” Rong Le said.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already sent people out of the city to investigate. Since His Majesty put me in charge, I won’t let anyone down,” Song Moting promised, his sharp and resolute gaze reassuring Rong Le and Rong Xian.

Rong Le was about to say more when he saw Rong Jiu sneaking a peek at Song Moting from the side. He couldn’t help but find it both exasperating and amusing. Clearing his throat, he called her over.

“Ahem, little sister, you’re up? Come, have a seat.”

Caught, Rong Jiu scratched her head awkwardly and grinned, “Heh, you’re all here? I was just passing by. You carry on.”

With that, she dragged Amu away in a flash.