Chapter 42: Separation at Qinglou Chuguan

In her previous life, Lin Xihe was an unapologetic admirer of handsome faces. Having accepted this trait, she further categorized herself as a “long-distance admirer”—someone who only dared to worship celebrities through screens and posters, and would merely observe good-looking men from afar in real life.

After transmigrating, she thought herself more discerning. That time at the cliff’s base, taking advantage of his vulnerable state, she mustered the courage to touch his chest once.

It was merely the contact area of two palms, not enough to feel clearly.

As the white horse galloped, a dead tree blocked the path ahead. The moment the horse leaped into the air, a magnetic voice sounded in her ear: “Don’t be afraid.”

Lin Xihe’s arm was naturally drawn closer by him, her back pressed against his firm chest. In her peripheral vision, verdant tree shadows surged wildly. Her entire body stiffened, only her heartbeat exploding—once, then again—lingering incessantly in her ears.

She resembled a dried salted fish, clutching that package of snacks tightly until Wen Zhixu dismounted.

“Shall I help you down?” He raised his hand high, the height suggesting more than mere “assistance.”

Afraid he might carry her again, Lin Xihe swiftly slid off the horse from the other side, her movement as smooth as if greased. Just kidding—before transmigrating, she was famously the slide master of her neighborhood!

Wen Zhixu calmly withdrew his hand, noticing the Chantangzhai paper package in her grasp had been crumpled from her tight grip.

“You don’t like preserved peaches?”

“Who said that? I love them!” Lin Xihe protectively guarded her snacks.

“I’ll bring you more next time.” Wen Zhixu remounted his horse.

Lin Xihe hurriedly shook her head: “No need to trouble yourself.”

“I heard from the shopkeeper that the next batch will have honeyed apricots.”

Honeyed apricots… her absolute favorite. Without half a second’s hesitation, Lin Xihe nodded rapidly like pounding garlic: “Yes, yes!”

Wen Zhixu hadn’t gone far when the girl’s murmur reached him: “…How did you know?”

He quickly reined in his horse: “I overheard people talking while waiting in line.”

“So,” Lin Xihe tilted her head slightly, seriously imagining the scene of this young master standing in a long queue, “you went to queue up yourself?”

“…”

Dressed in tea-white brocade robes that nearly blended with his snow-white horse, his sleeves fluttered like snow, inexplicably capturing one’s gaze.

No more looking. Lin Xihe tossed out a “Bye” and slipped through the gate—straight into Madam Lin’s embrace. The bosom was warm and soft, faintly scented with flowers. Unconsciously, she buried her face deeper, quietly inhaling the fragrance.

“What is He’er smelling?” Madam Lin gently stroked her hair.

“What scent is on Mother? It smells so wonderful.”

“Just had the maid buy a few Champak flowers to offer before the Buddha.”

Lin Xihe accepted one blossom, but her thoughts drifted: That guy’s scent was quite pleasant too. Was it ebony? Or sandalwood?

During her brief stay.

Lin Zhaoheng used visiting his daughter as an excuse to see his wife. But before he could even approach the residence, his daughter, having caught wind of his presence, chased him away with a broom.

“If you dare harass Mother again, don’t expect to remain my father!”

“He’er, your father…”

“I’ll go report you at the magistrate’s office!”

“Just one distant glance, I promise I won’t do anything.”

Lin Xihe struck with the force reserved for scoundrels, beating Lin Zhaoheng until he begged for mercy.

After that day delivering the preserved peaches, Wen Zhixu never appeared again.

The already quiet courtyard grew even more desolate.

That package of preserved peaches had long been finished.

“Hmph, what about the promised honeyed apricots?” She lightly plucked the Champak petals, the pure white blossoms fluttering down. “Will bring them, won’t bring them, will bring…”

The flowers were plucked bare, but no answer came.

Lin Xihe plucked another blossom, muttering under her breath, “Liar.”

In the back room of the jade shop, among a group of coarse-clothed artisans, mingled a young master in brocade robes.

The young master was tall in stature, yet now he stooped low, humbly seeking guidance from the old artisan Li Qixing: “Master Li, how should one carve the flower bud on this hairpin to make it appear delicate and touching?”

Li Qixing held no favorable opinion of this young noble. For four whole days, the clumsy youth had ruined several fine pieces of jade—a sheer waste of precious material.

“How does Young Master Wen expect this old man to teach you?” Li Qixing’s implication was clear: such a pampered son of luxury ought to be frequenting pleasure houses and brothels, or at most admiring jade pieces in the shop’s front hall. Why trouble himself in this workshop, covering his fine clothes in stone dust?

Especially for such a delicate hairpin.

Seeing Li Qixing’s displeased expression, Wen Zhixu promptly straightened up and bowed formally. “I have disturbed you for days—this is truly my rudeness. But the person I admire has her birthday approaching, and I previously carelessly caused her to lose a beloved hairpin. Crafting one with my own hands would show greater sincerity.”

Li Qixing reassessed the brocade-clad young man before him, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes. Was the renowned Second Master Wen not merely dabbling, but genuinely sincere?

Immediately, he picked up a carving knife and said slowly, “You truly wish to learn? Watch closely.”

.

Finally, she had made a friend she could chat with, only for this person to vanish after feeding her snacks.

Did friendship not require nurturing? Tormented by this soul-searching question, Lin Xihe seethed with anger for three full days.

On the fourth day, early in the morning, she could no longer resist and dispatched her intelligence agent.

In ancient times, travel by horse and carriage was slow. By the time the message returned, dusk was approaching.

Lin Xihe was dining with Madam Lin when suddenly a servant came to report: “Young Miss, as you instructed, I did not inquire with the Wen residence servants, but indirectly sought information from Young Master Xie’s attendant.”

“Mm.” Lin Xihe was pleased. Since Wen Zhixu was ignoring her, she couldn’t let him know she was investigating him.

“What did Xie Qi say?”

“Young Master Xie said, he said…” The servant stammered, glancing uneasily at Madam Lin, then at her.

Never mind.

Lin Xihe led the servant outside the residence. The setting sun cast evening hues, with cooking smoke curling upwards—a scene straight out of an ancient painting, yet her heart sank deeper and deeper.

“Really?”

“Young Master Xie’s attendant said that Young Master Wen’s whereabouts were secretive, and he wouldn’t reveal them even when asked. Young Master Xie wished to accompany him but was turned back. So Young Master Xie secretly followed him.”

However, Wen Zhixiu seemed to sense something, and upon reaching Panxiang Street, he suddenly vanished from sight.

“What kind of place is Panxiang Street?”

“It’s… where the Qinglou Chuguan gather.”

“Hmph! I knew it!” Lin Xihe’s knuckles turned white from clenching.

The servant hurriedly tried to calm her: “Young Miss, please don’t be angry! Don’t be angry!”

Lin Xihe gritted her teeth: “That Wen Zhixu! How dare he go to the pleasure houses without me? I want to see the top courtesans too!”

What kind of friend was that?!

The servant stared wide-eyed: “???”

.

The day before Lin Xihe’s birthday, through her efforts, her parents finally divorced.

She unrolled the document, beaming with joy.

“Mother, your name is so beautiful.” Lin Xihe tapped her finger on the three characters “Liu Xuying.”

Madam Liu smiled and patted her head.

Lin Xihe’s finger slid down to the seal section: “Mother, if it isn’t stamped, is it invalid?”

Madam Liu’s expression tightened, and she hurriedly examined it closely: Lin Zhaoheng’s seal stood out vividly in bright red.

“Your father,” Madam Liu said slowly, “despite his countless faults, would not stoop to such underhanded tactics.”

Lin Xihe did not sleep a wink all night.

The letter of annulment sent by Wen Zhixu only bore a signature, without even a seal!

If it truly was like this, then the letter of annulment naturally held no validity. Fuming in bed, she kicked wildly at the air: “Despicable! Shameless! Villain!”

Early on the morning of her birthday, she rode back to the estate in a huff.

As this was her first birthday since recovering from her illness, Lin Zhaoheng was determined to celebrate it lavishly.

When Lin Xihe stepped through the estate gates, her eyes were met with blinding shades of crimson. The pillars were wrapped in red silk, the chairs adorned with red flowers, and even the old trees in the courtyard had not been spared, draped with bright red fabric blossoms.

“…” Lin Xihe felt her vision darken. Help, this is so tacky it makes me cringe!

“He’er, do you like it?” Lin Zhaoheng, whose taste was terminally straight-masculine, sought praise.

“I like it,” Lin Xihe sighed, massaging her temples. “Father, there’s no need for this next time.”

Lin Zhaoheng fell silent: that meant she didn’t like it.

Without another word, the young lady hurried straight to Tinghe Courtyard. The first thing she did upon entering was to pull out her jewelry box.

She unfolded the letter of annulment and examined it carefully. Sure enough, there was only a signature, no seal.

Lin Xihe had a sudden epiphany: Isn’t this the same as a divorce agreement without a signature? The marital relationship is still intact!

Who would have thought that scoundrel would pull such a trick!

This engagement must be annulled! Immediately! Right now!

The door was pushed open with a whoosh, as matrons and maids filed in.

Without a word, they seated her before the mirror and busied themselves with her attire. The hairdressing maid gently gathered her hair to the left, while a matron slipped a jade bracelet onto her wrist. Lin Xihe paid no mind to her appearance, her thoughts wholly occupied with how to confront someone.

When she inadvertently glanced up, the bronze mirror reflected a stunning beauty in ancient attire.

“Is this me?” The bronze mirror wasn’t clear, so she wiped the surface with her sleeve.

The new hairdressing maid grew anxious: “Miss, did I not do your hair well?”

The bronze mirror revealed two rows of gleaming white teeth as Lin Xihe said, “This styling team really knows their stuff!”

No one understood what she meant, but they saw her dash out with light, brisk steps. Just then, a beam of sunlight pierced through the corridor, and the hem of her lifted skirt resembled a fragrant lily about to bloom. Anyone could tell she was utterly pleased.

“Sister,” Lin Pinyan called out to her, “where are you going?”

Lin Xihe followed the voice and briefly met Lin Zhirou’s gaze behind Lin Pinyan before looking away.

With Min Shi sent away, the siblings had lost their backing. Lin Pinyan, being the only son, could manage, but Lin Zhirou’s life had become difficult. As a hard-to-please concubine’s daughter, which servant would bother with her?

Lin Xihe gestured outward with her chin: “Going to find Wen Zhixu and demand an explanation.”

Lin Zhirou’s eyes dimmed beside them.

“Huh? You’re going to play with Brother-in-law?” The little chubby boy only caught the first part.

“Don’t shout nonsense, who’s your brother-in-law?” Lin Xihe promptly gave his forehead a crisp flick. When it came to disciplining her younger brother, her manner seemed more sisterly than even Lin Zhirou’s.

Commotion arose from the front courtyard.

The Lin estate steward led the servants in greeting: “Lord Wen, Lord Yan, Lord Xie! Please come in and take your seats!”

The three siblings turned in unison to see the vermilion gates of the Lin estate wide open, as the carriages of the various lords entered in sequence.

Since the Wen estate was adjacent to the Lin estate, Wen Hongyuan arrived on foot with just a few attendants.

Lin Zhaoheng: “Ah, Lord Wen, there was no need for such generous gifts!”

Wen Hongyuan glanced at the gift box instantly taken by the steward: “Lord Lin certainly accepts them briskly.”

As the two seemed about to start bickering again, Lin Xihe’s gaze shifted subtly, suddenly locking onto a spot in the crowd.

That person was also looking at her.

After several days apart, those eyes tinged amber by sunlight seemed to have grown deeper.

The courtyard buzzed with noise—some exchanging pleasantries, others bustling about—yet through the shifting crowd, his gaze came straight to her, resting upon her with a directness that held no concealment.

It made her afraid to look back.

Lin Xihe surrendered.

She prided herself on being an admirer of beauty.

Before her transmigration, she’d visit the gym to feast her eyes on handsome men and had been diagnosed as an incurable muscle enthusiast.

That day on horseback, catching an accidental glimpse of the shifting lines at someone’s neck, she began to wonder if she had some particular fixation on Adam’s apples.

She felt like a pervert—calligraphy, voices, knuckles, even scents… any of them could strike a chord within her.

Only now did she realize the root of the problem: she was simply… lustful.

Wen Zhixu curled his lips in a mirthless smile. Though his question was directed at Lin Pinyan, his eyes seemed permanently attached to her: “Am I not your brother-in-law?”