Chapter 11: I Look Forward to Your Guidance

Xing Jue was one of the people Si Yao found hardest to read. When he was young, he had been innocent and simple, shy and bashful, trailing behind her, calling her “sister” with childlike dependence. It made Si Yao both annoyed and uneasy. But now, as he grew older…

The innocence was gone; shyness and bashfulness were tales from another world. All that was left was a sense that he had eyes in the back of his head; no matter what she did, it seemed she was always within his sight. Even her attempt to persuade Wen Sui to remove Xing A’ni from the role of Xing Jue’s prospective wife seemed to fall under his gaze.

Si Yao’s heart contracted inexplicably.

Aside from Xing A’ni, this was the only woman in all these years who had ever lived in Xiang Court.

No matter what Xing Jue knew, as long as he didn’t make it explicit, she couldn’t let go, nor could she let Wen Sui—a girl so useless—exit the stage too soon.

Si Yao’s breathing quickened, and she remained silent.

The low laughter on the other end of the phone disappeared, replaced by a woman’s bewitching, syrupy laughter that mingled with Xing Jue’s icy breath, so cold it seemed to seep through the phone, echoing again and again in Si Yao’s ear.

“Come.”

A single word, cold enough to make one tremble, lingered as the call was cut off.

Si Yao changed her clothes and went out, waiting in her car for only a short time before someone knocked on the window. “Young Master Xing asks you to go in.”

Si Yao tightened her coat and got out, making her way to the private room Xing Jue had long occupied with practiced ease.

At the door stood the same two unruly men; seeing Si Yao arrive, they winked and grinned, “Sister Yao Yao, you’re here.”

Si Yao paused. “Is it convenient now?”

They nodded, casting her a look of pity.

Si Yao knocked twice, pushed the door, and entered.

Xing Jue sat on the sofa, his long legs bent. His brows and eyes carried a familiar hint of drunkenness, but his gaze was clear. His suit was immaculate, and he spoke gently and sweetly with the woman in his arms, whose clothes were disheveled and who seemed newly arrived.

His demeanor was identical to that night with Wen Sui. A vague idea flickered through Si Yao’s mind; her throat tightened, and after a moment, she managed to ask, “Are you going home?”

Xing Jue’s gaze shifted to her, calm as a deep well. “What time is it?”

“One thirty.”

“If no one called you in, how long would you have waited?” Xing Jue smiled enigmatically. Without waiting for her reply, he propped his chin and said lightly, “Is it late?”

Si Yao parted her lips. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

This time, less than half an hour passed before Xing Jue emerged, impeccably dressed. He placed his hand on Si Yao’s waist. “What were you chatting about that made you so happy?”

It had just been the two of them talking; Si Yao had said nothing. Yet Xing Jue aimed the question at her, exactly as he had last time.

Si Yao forced a stiff smile. “Nothing much.”

“Did you drive?” Xing Jue asked.

Last time, when Xing Jue asked, Si Yao had subtly declined due to a fever. This time…

Si Yao replied, “Yes.”

His hand at her waist pulled her closer. Xing Jue chuckled softly, his voice tender to the point of melting. “Good girl.”

He released her after speaking, turning to walk outside.

Si Yao wrapped her coat tightly around herself and followed.

Once inside the car, after being pressed down, she struggled and asked, “Why do you hold grudges so much?” And why are you… so hard to deal with?

Xing Jue replied, “It’s not a grudge. I’m just teasing you.”

Her intentions had been seen through, and Si Yao’s heart felt as though it had been fiercely squeezed.

Xing Jue raised his fingers and slowly traced her brows and eyes, continuing, “You know I’m just teasing you, yet you still want me to keep playing with that little thing?”

He made it clear he had no special feeling for Wen Sui, but Si Yao didn’t understand—if there was nothing special, why let her live in Xiang Court?

As if he could see through her thoughts.

Xing Jue reached out, gently pried open her tightly bitten lower lip and rubbed it lightly, chuckling, “When we got engaged, I was young and foolish. But marriage—only I get to decide. You’ll never again have the chance to act on your own. So think carefully—do you want me to keep playing with her?”

These past two days, Si Yao had seen clearly that Wen Sui was utterly useless.

She was silent a long time, her nails nearly digging through her palms, then after a long pause, expelled a heavy breath.

Xing Jue’s eyes were deep and dark. He pried apart her tightly clenched fingers and interlaced their hands. “Looks like you don’t. So full of schemes, yet powerless—my Sister Yao Yao.”

…

Wen Sui was eliminated in just two days; she hadn’t even had a chance to see the new bed.

Si Yao packed her luggage and moved back into Xing Jue’s estate, quietly resuming the tasks she had repeated for seven years.

She managed the household staff, handled the chores, tended the flowers, practiced calligraphy, endured Xing Jue’s occasional late-night disturbances, and served Grandmother Xing’s weekly etiquette examinations.

Then came the reprimanding phone call from Master Xing.

“Xing Jue has been far too ostentatious lately,” he said, displeased.

Si Yao replied, “I will persuade him.”

“You’d better,” the call ended abruptly.

Si Yao pressed her temples, at a loss for where to begin.

Xing Jue’s displays were all aimed at A’ni.

After Wen Sui was eliminated, the intimacy between A’ni and Xing Jue became so well-known throughout Qing City that no one was ignorant of it.

He spent lavishly on a yacht, and on the fifteenth, set off fireworks by the riverbank, spelling out “A’ni” beside the moon in the sky.

Their affection was so public that nearly everyone overlooked his official fiancée.

It was, in its way, a message to Si Yao.

He intended to marry Xing A’ni; no matter how many little tricks she tried, it would all be in vain.

Later that evening, Si Yao called Xing Jue. “Come home, I need to talk to you.”

“Sister Yao Yao?” On the other end, Xing A’ni’s voice was playful. “Home, you say? But he’s showering.”

Si Yao’s throat worked for a moment. “Would you…”

“Last time, I asked if you believed he was only doing this to anger me. You said no, didn’t you?” A’ni interrupted.

Si Yao was silent.

“Why does everyone in Qing City believe it, but you don’t?”

Si Yao’s face remained expressionless as she spoke softly, “I…”

A’ni interrupted again, “Tomorrow I’ll go to Xing Jue’s house for lessons. You’ll believe it then.” She laughed gleefully, then added with pride, “The etiquette course for the mistress of the Xing family—Teacher Si Yao, please guide me well.”