Chapter 20

Xie Yan’s brows furrowed, bringing a touch of worldly emotion to his otherwise immaculate, ethereal face. Jiang Yunchan could never bring herself to associate him with ordinary men; she felt that even the mention of carnal desire would be a stain upon such a noble soul.

Biting her lip, she said with a look of distress, "If Matron Xu discovers anything amiss, neither the young master nor I will be able to explain it. Therefore, I must stay in your room for the night."

"But please rest assured, young master, I shall only sleep on the arhat bed in the outer chamber; we shall not disturb each other," Jiang Yunchan promised earnestly, her gaze fixed intently upon Xie Yan.

Xie Yan could not help but chuckle. "Does my sister truly believe the people in the palace are so easily deceived?"

"But..." She could not possibly share a bed with him. At a loss, she gripped her sleeves tightly, twisting the fabric until it became damp and wrinkled.

"Do not worry," Xie Yan said, his voice gentle as he sought to reassure her. "Do you have a bell with you?"

"I have one." Unsure of his intent, Jiang Yunchan took a small silver bell from her pouch and placed it in his palm.

As soon as she did, she regretted it. The bell was the very same "Mandarin Ducks Playing in Water" piece she was supposed to wear on her ankle on her wedding night. What if someone were to look closely? How humiliating that would be! She frowned slightly, reaching to take it back.

But it was too late. Xie Yan held it firmly. Fortunately, he did not pay particular attention to the intricate engravings, merely giving it a slight shake. "Close all the curtains so no one can see inside. Perhaps we can get away with it if we shake the bell."

Understanding his meaning, Jiang Yunchan felt her cheeks burn. She hastily took the bell back, thinking, *I had better do it myself.* After all, it was a personal item; having it in another man's hand was improper. She turned to lower the curtains of the inner sanctum, then leaned against the floor-to-ceiling wooden partition, shaking the bell gently.

The inner room was only six paces square, containing nothing but a bed and a writing desk. With the curtains drawn, it felt even more cramped. In the dim candlelight, the two stood face to face—one by the desk, one by the door—with nowhere to hide. The ambiguous, trembling sound of the bell hung between them, leaving them both at a loss. Jiang Yunchan had nowhere to rest her eyes, so she stared down at her embroidered shoes, the rhythm of the bell becoming erratic and chaotic, mirroring her own racing heart.

A moment later, a tall shadow fell over her.

"That is not how you shake it, sister."

Xie Yan’s warm breath brushed against her cheek, and she startled, looking up to find him standing a mere step away. He had cornered her, his hand covering hers over her sleeve to steady her wrist.

"It should be like this." He guided her, coaxing her hand into a rhythmic sway.

The previously chaotic sound smoothed into a pattern: nine short rings followed by one long one, *ding-a-ling-ling*. The metallic vibration held a strange, bewitching power. Every time the long note sounded, it felt as if her soul were being scattered, leaving her limbs weak and her waist aching.

Jiang Yunchan tried to pull her hand away, but Xie Yan’s knuckled fingers held a firm, heavy strength. She could not escape, and her sleeve slid down from her forearm. Now, Xie Yan’s hand gripped her wrist directly, skin to skin. She could clearly feel the texture of his fingertips and their heat. His movements, while seemingly gentle, were deliberate and powerful.

*Clink, clink, clink...*

Images from the books the matchmaker had given her on the eve of her wedding flooded her mind. Having no mother to instruct her, she had hidden under her blankets to sneak a look. Those books had described the "nine shallow, one deep" method as a way to enhance intimacy. The frequency of the bell’s ringing matched the secret techniques of the bridal chamber perfectly.

*Could the young master have read those books too?*

"Young master!" Jiang Yunchan’s lips parted, her orchid-scented breath misting onto his lapels. But what could she say? Could she admit she understood the hidden meaning behind his rhythm? That would be equivalent to telling him she had read those lewd books herself.

Biting her lip, she looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with shyness. "I... I can do it myself. Please, go back to your work."

"Have you learned, sister?" Xie Yan asked.

"I..." She felt it was shameful to admit, but murmured, "I have!"

Xie Yan caught the panic in her eyes and smiled faintly, his grip loosening. Jiang Yunchan quickly pulled her arm away, ducked under his reach, and sat at the desk. She kept her gaze fixed on the shadows outside, shaking the bell with nervous intensity.

Xie Yan said nothing more. As if nothing had happened, he returned to the desk to copy a portrait of Guanyin. The image was pure and pristine, possessing a delicate, snow-like grace. With the scent of sandalwood curling from the gilded crane incense burner, the room grew quiet, and her heart began to settle. *I suppose it is not strange for him to have read such books,* she thought, *since he was meant to be married on that day as well.*

With that thought, her guard dropped, and she grew drowsy as she shook the bell. The moon gradually hid behind the bamboo grove, and as deep night descended, the occasional sound of frogs could be heard.

The sound of the bell in the room grew faint. Suddenly, Jiang Yunchan’s head lolled to the side, and she nearly slumped to the floor. Xie Yan, who had been focused on his painting, reacted with lightning speed, catching her chin in his palm.

Her soft, shallow breaths puffed against his palm, gentle and slow. He curled his long fingers, cradling her soft, flushed cheek, and looked down at her as she slept soundly in his hand.

*This is perfect,* he thought. *Everything about her belongs in my palm.*

The warmth in Xie Yan’s eyes faded, replaced by a dark, heavy gaze that seemed to bind her small form like a net. "Look, Jiaojiao, is this painting beautiful?"

He rested her head against his waist and, grasping the hand still adorned with the silver bell, guided her fingers over the scroll he had spent the night painting. Her delicate fingertips traced the curves of the image as the silver bell trembled in her hand.

The sleeping Jiang Yunchan did not know that Xie Yan had shifted his brush, transforming the Guanyin into her own likeness. In the painting, a woman lay on a bed, her wedding robes loose, her hair spread out like sea grass. Her long, slender legs were exposed, draped over the bed frame, her lotus-like feet hanging down, the "Mandarin Ducks" bell trembling at her ankle in a rhythm that grew increasingly frantic.

This exquisite beauty should have belonged to him, yet she longed to give it to another. *A fool's dream...*

Xie Yan’s expression darkened. He lifted her hand and bowed to kiss her palm, then the silver bell itself. It would not be long before he made her willingly tie the bell on herself, offering him everything she had. It would be as beautiful as the scene on this scroll...

His scorching kisses pressed into her skin, thread by thread. A single tear slid from the corner of Jiang Yunchan’s eye as she murmured in her sleep, "Huai-lang... Huai-lang..."

There was not a single night she did not call that man’s name so sorrowfully.

Xie Yan’s face turned icy. He bit down sharply on the web of her hand.

"Pain!" Jiang Yunchan cried out, jolted awake in a daze.