Chapter 34: Feeding

When Liu Chuyan found herself pinned beneath him, she was stunned for a long moment before she realized what had happened. But when she looked up, he still had his eyes closed and his brows furrowed, still deeply asleep.

That movement just now was clearly instinctive—perhaps he thought she was an assailant. But he still refused to wake, as if even in dreams he wouldn’t let others have peace.

Well, she wouldn’t argue with him; in any case, she could never win such an argument. Yet Xue Ao was simply too heavy. She tried to free herself, but couldn’t budge him. Nor could she wriggle out from under him. All she could do was nudge his drooping head. “Second Master Xue—”

But Xue Ao was dead asleep, not stirring in the slightest. She recalled that he hadn’t eaten a grain of rice in three days; likely he hadn’t slept during those days either. It was enough to make one feel sorry for him, but at the moment, she was the one suffering. Her slender frame could hardly endure being crushed like this. Besides, if anyone saw them in such an improper position—especially her trusted maid Songling—it would be unforgivable.

Liu Chuyan was both mortified and angry, wanting badly to strike him. But she couldn’t really hit him, and she was even more afraid that the commotion would be heard by Songling or Qinghe downstairs. She poked his forehead and whispered in a low, urgent voice, “Second Master Xue! You’re on top of me.”

Xue Ao only made a muffled sound and caught her restless, delicate fingers, refusing to let her move.

He moved so swiftly and deftly—how could he truly be asleep? Liu Chuyan began to struggle. “Xue Ao, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Hearing the indignation in her voice, Xue Ao nearly laughed, but worried that he might truly anger her, he rolled slightly to the side and let her escape.

Seizing the chance, Liu Chuyan quickly leaped a good ten feet away, eyeing him warily. But he merely turned over and continued to sleep, entirely unaffected by her.

Was he truly asleep, or just pretending? Her doubts only deepened, and she was far from certain.

No matter—if he would not wake, it hardly mattered whether he was hungry or not. Let him sleep like the dead. With this thought, Liu Chuyan turned to head downstairs.

Sensing her intent to leave, Xue Ao suddenly sat up and fixed her with a steady gaze.

She had scarcely taken a step when he awoke. His eyes, dark as ink and piercingly bright, stared straight at her, startling her so much she staggered back three steps, her face blanching as she twisted her fingers nervously behind her. “Second Master Xue, you’re awake?”

She looked as if she feared he might devour her. Xue Ao pressed his hand to his forehead in irritation. “Where is this? Why are you here?”

“I…” For a moment, Liu Chuyan was speechless. Wasn’t he the one who told her to find a place for him to stay? Now, waking up, he’d forgotten everything and was questioning her instead?

But Xue Ao didn’t wait for her answer. He rose from the couch, but after only two steps, twisted his foot and fell to the ground.

Liu Chuyan had heard Xue Ao was a master of martial arts, unmatched in his skills. How was it he now seemed as weak as a scholar who couldn’t even truss a chicken? No, even a scholar would fare better—at least they wouldn’t trip over themselves. Could his reputation be nothing but empty talk?

Though Xue Ao couldn’t read her thoughts, he caught a hint of doubt in her gaze. Looking down at himself, he realized how easily he could be misunderstood. “Miss Liu, when I was fleeing, I fell down a slope. My calf and arm both struck rocks. It hurt, but I forced myself to endure it. Only now is the pain truly unbearable.”

“You were injured?” She had only removed his outer garment, and thus had no idea of his condition. Yet when she’d first seen him, his face had been streaked with black mud and several scratches; so this must be true, not a lie. Why did she always feel as if he would trick her? It was baffling.

Xue Ao’s words were truthful. Still, he would never lift his clothes to prove it; instead, he sat there waiting for Liu Chuyan’s sympathy to move her to offer help.

She thought he would get up on his own, but he remained slumped there, both embarrassed and expectant. She had never seen such a look on Xue Ao’s face before. Could he truly be in so much pain that he couldn’t get up?

“Second Master Xue, you… can’t stand?” Liu Chuyan wrinkled her nose in consternation.

Xue Ao had always been proud, refusing help even if it killed him. But with Liu Chuyan it was different—he wanted her to help. He nodded slightly and moved his leg just a bit, emitting a muffled groan.

That much pain? Liu Chuyan winced in sympathy and took two steps forward to tug at his sleeve.

Though propriety forbade such contact, Xue Ao had never experienced being helped in this manner. He managed to stand with her support but immediately sat back down, grimacing in pain. This time it truly hurt, as if his bones and tendons were being torn apart. If he’d known it would be like this, he wouldn’t have teased her.

Liu Chuyan heard the pain in his voice, and, embarrassed, bit her lower lip and moved aside. “Second Master Xue, are you all right?”

Xue Ao thought it best to quietly return to the couch and grunted, “Miss Liu, could you please help me properly?”

At this point, Liu Chuyan had no choice but to brace herself and help him.

Xue Ao hobbled a few steps, then sat back down on the couch.

“Second Master Xue, just now the Duke’s household sent someone to the manor to inquire after me.”

“They found out?”

“Yes. Madam Xue was frantic, sent people to the Marquis of Wukang’s estate to ask, and when they didn’t find you, they came to me.”

“What did you say?” Xue Ao pressed his brow in irritation, as if it itched there.

“I said nothing—my great-aunt handled it for me.”

“That’s good. I still can’t return to the estate for a few days. This place seems safest. Could I trouble you to take me in a little longer?”

Liu Chuyan had thought he would leave as soon as he woke, but he actually asked to stay a few more days. She pursed her lips in distress.

Whether she agreed or not, he would likely stay, but if she agreed, it would at least be aboveboard, allowing him to “trouble” her openly. Yet her troubled expression suggested she had taken a dislike to him. He regretted his earlier behavior—his first impression of her had been poor, but not intentionally so; he had simply assumed she was not a proper lady, a prejudice he now realized was unfounded. And now, her misunderstandings of him were probably no less than before. He was filled with regret—one misstep, and he might never win her heart.

Liu Chuyan had no idea what knots he was tying himself into, but when he fell silent, she grew anxious, hesitated, and finally nodded resolutely. “Fine. I’ll be here for half a month. As long as you leave before I do, it’s all right.”

“Good!” Xue Ao replied at once.

He had secured his stay, but rules had to be set. Liu Chuyan considered for a moment, her voice gentle but firm: “Second Master Xue, this is the attic above my room. My maids serve below; one of them knows about this, the other does not. Occasionally, my cousins come to visit. So, please keep your footsteps and your voice soft—do not draw attention.”

“Of course,” Xue Ao answered crisply.

“And another thing.” Liu Chuyan had heard the Xue family’s second master was a picky eater. She glanced at the food set aside. “The meals I bring you are obtained quietly, mostly leftovers from the kitchen—nothing like what you’d have at the Duke’s estate. You mustn’t be choosy.”

Xue Ao followed her gaze to the now-cold meal: half a bowl of vegetables with mushrooms, and a few indistinguishable scraps of meat. This was all he’d get… But under another’s roof, one had to bow one’s head. He drooped in resignation. “I’m not picky.”

He must have felt guilty even saying it. Liu Chuyan thought so, but nonetheless brought the food to him. “You haven’t eaten in days—eat.”

Xue Ao looked at the unappetizing meal. How could he eat without gaining something in return? He stiffened his face. “My hands hurt.”

Liu Chuyan’s eyes widened in irritation. “You can’t mean to have me feed you?”

Xue Ao didn’t answer right away. He slowly rolled up his sleeves. “I fell down the mountain and my arms are swollen. I could barely use them at first, but now I can’t lift them at all.”

Liu Chuyan looked down—his arms were indeed swollen, bruised in patches, a sight both shocking and distressing. She shivered. “What should we do?”

“I think your earlier suggestion was quite good,” Xue Ao grumbled, turning his face away.

Liu Chuyan was speechless with exasperation. Did he think she was that easy to order around? Or was he so used to commanding servants that he now took her for one?

“Miss Liu, you saved my life. Since you’ve done a good deed, why not see it through to the end? If you do, the Duke’s household will surely thank you.” Xue Ao turned back to her, saying words of thanks without a trace of gratitude on his face.

Even when asking a favor, he wore such an infuriating expression, yet he seemed convinced she would certainly feed him. If she truly performed such an intimate act today, how could she ever face him—or anyone—again?

Xue Ao seemed to sense her concerns, the corners of his mouth twitching—not a smile, but forcibly suppressing one: “Oh, I won’t reveal this to anyone when I return to the estate, for your reputation’s sake. But I could send you a magnolia tree. I heard from Huaijin and Huaiyu that you love them most—you wouldn’t refuse such a gift.”

He really had her at his mercy!

“Don’t worry, Miss Liu—I won’t say it was from me. I’ll claim it was from the Duke’s household, so no one will gossip.”

Not that he was an insider, either.

“Miss Liu, all I want is a bite to eat—surely you wouldn’t…”

Liu Chuyan couldn’t bear to listen any longer. She scooped up a large bite of vegetables with her chopsticks and stuffed it into his mouth. Never had she imagined that the ever-serious Second Master Xue—the stern, imposing Censor of the Left, the arrogant and discourteous Xue Ao—would have this side to him. Tonight, the sun and moon must have risen together… What an astonishing thing.

Xue Ao, caught off guard, choked on the mouthful of food. Yet in his heart, there was nothing but sweetness. He had imagined their reunion a thousand times in his dreams—the moon above the willow branches, a tryst at dusk, a night of flowers and bright moon on the spring river, new green beyond the withered trees. None of those compared to this moment’s warmth and intimacy, even if the setting was shabby and the food unpalatable.

Ah, perhaps he was a little mad. What foolish, sentimental verses had just flitted through his mind?