Chapter 20: The Duke (Part II)

"I..."
"How is it?"
Starting from her earlobes, a crimson flush spread rapidly down her porcelain-white neck, visible to the naked eye. The man's large, warm hand grazed slowly behind her ear. It felt as though that spot were her very lifeline; with every stroke, she shuddered and instinctively tried to shrink away, but escape was impossible. His other hand roamed across her waist, occasionally tightening its grip. "Speak."

Yan Xi let out a soft whimper. Held fast, she felt burning hot from head to toe, especially her face. The disparity in their stature made her seem even more delicate and petite in his arms as she replied, her voice soft and trembling:
"I—I won't tell Uncle Lu... C-can you let me go?"
Her words grew more hurried, especially the last sentence. The man raised an eyebrow, languid and slow. "What do you think?" He then added, "Why should I believe you?"

Though she was turned sideways, pinned against his lap just inches from him, she purposely avoided his gaze, keeping her head slightly bowed and only darting a glance at him when she spoke, immediately looking away again.
"Have you done so many wicked things that you assume everyone else is like you? Since I promised you, I will not break my word. But—but you must release A-Tai first..."

Lu Zhi chuckled, leaning closer until his warm breath brushed against her small face.
"Are you bargaining with me? Hmm?"
As he spoke, his hand on her waist tightened significantly. Yan Xi recoiled, whimpering and pushing at him, but to no avail.
He continued, his voice low by her ear: "Coincidentally, the person Miss Shen is concerned about is the same person I am tracking..."

Yan Xi shivered. Already feverish and anxious, hearing this while being held so closely made her breathing grow ragged. "W-what... what do you mean?"
The moment she asked, she understood. He had first asked how he could trust her, then mentioned A-Tai—it was a blatant warning. She realized his true purpose in coming here was exactly this.

As expected, the man grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, and said coldly with a raised brow, "The moment you and I depart is the moment I release your little servant. Do you understand?"
Yan Xi’s eyes were glistening with moisture. Forced to look at him, her beautiful lips trembled. The more she listened, the more desperate she felt. The heavy snow was falling, the days growing colder, and he was still keeping someone locked away...

Before she could argue or say anything more, the man, who had been watching her through narrowed eyes, suddenly gripped her slender waist and leaned in to kiss her. The onslaught was fierce; the young girl was caught completely off guard, pressed tightly against his chest, her waist feeling as if it might shatter. Within moments, her eyes were swimming with tears. In a fit of desperation, she didn't know where she found the courage, but she sank her teeth firmly into his lip.

A taste of blood filled their mouths. Stung by the pain, he seemed to snap out of his trance and let her go. Yan Xi looked at him, eyes brimming with tears, her delicate frame shrinking back in fear. Their gazes met—hers clearly evasive, his deep and inscrutable, yet composed.

After a long moment, the man said coldly, "Shen Yanxi, are you looking for death?"
"I... I didn't mean to..."
Yan Xi bowed her head, her excuse flimsy—for she clearly had meant to. She stole glances at him from time to time, her eyes filled with trepidation.
Just then, a man’s voice came from outside the door.
"Young Master..."

***

Lu Zhi raised a hand, wiping the blood from his lip where she had bitten him. Then, as if nothing had happened, he stood up. He pulled his crane-patterned cloak around him, standing tall as he dressed, and said languidly, "Think carefully about what should and should not be said..."
He turned, cast one last glance at her, and walked out.

Yan Xi remained cautious, her beautiful, limpid eyes tracking his figure until he had left the room, only then letting out a sigh of relief. No sooner had he left than Qinglian and Taohong returned. Seeing their mistress with only a flushed face and otherwise appearing as she had when they left, they felt relieved.

Soon after, Little Liu came by again: "Miss, the Duke has arrived at the manor."
Yan Xi had expected as much. She realized Lu Zhi’s sudden arrival and departure were both related to this. He had come specifically to warn her. She also realized that he wasn't truly afraid of nothing; he was likely quite wary of his own father. It was only natural—after committing such monstrous acts, how could he not fear his father finding out?

The heavy snow had not ceased, falling with the same intensity as before. The ground was covered in white, with frost clinging to tree branches and wrapping around the red plum blossoms. A sudden gust of wind shook the branches, sending snow fluttering down. Yan Xi was in the North Courtyard, far from the main gate; though she could neither hear nor see the activity, she felt a sense of commotion.

As noon approached, each household received word of the family banquet. The weather cleared in the afternoon, and the snowfall that had lasted half the day finally stopped. Taohong and Qinglian were busy in the room, choosing an outfit for their mistress. She had been back for nearly three months, but the manor had not held a family banquet. Yan Xi had seen few people and did not recognize most of them; this would be her first formal introduction to the entire family. Most importantly, she was about to see Uncle Lu again.

The two maids presented five outfits for her to choose from. Yan Xi’s mind was not on her attire, and she eventually chose the most plain and simple one. Once dressed, Qinglian studied her: "Is it too plain?"
Yan Xi sat before the vanity. The bronze mirror reflected a stunningly beautiful face. She wore a very pale pink, with minimal hair ornaments.
"It will do," Yan Xi replied.

The time arrived soon enough. The young girl was timid; during her six years of recuperating in Suzhou, she could count the number of people she had met on her fingers. Even after returning for three months, she remained reserved, her hands tightly clenched as she walked. The Lu family banquet hall was in the East Courtyard. She arrived quite early, and by the time she reached the hall, many people were already there.

A maid led her to her seat, which was quite near the front. It was only natural; although she was an orphan and a daughter of the Shen family, and had not yet been formally adopted by the Duke of Ning, she was considered part of the eldest branch. Once seated, Yan Xi’s eyes immediately drifted toward the main seats not far away. The hall was magnificent and luxurious. In the current dynasty, the left side was honored, and the east was considered the most prestigious.

There were four main seats: the Old Madam, the Duke, the Duchess, and the Young Master Lu Zhi. To be precise, her gaze fell upon Lu Zhi’s seat. They were not far apart; she was in the first seat below his.

As she watched, her heart raced faster—a feeling like that of a thief. Soon, the hall grew crowded, and many came to greet her. Some were from the second and third branches, others were distant cousins. Regardless of who they were, their conversations all revolved around Jiang Zhiyan’s injury.
"Fortunately, he is unharmed." These four words echoed in Yan Xi’s ears.

She responded softly and乖巧ly (obediently) to whoever asked, but as she chatted, her heart skipped a beat. Her peripheral vision caught sight of the entrance. She saw Lu Zhi. After that, whatever people said to her became a blur, especially when she saw him staring at her with unrestrained intensity. The young girl immediately looked away.

The man walked toward the table with an unhurried, steady pace, drawing countless gazes as he entered. Cousins and relatives vied to speak with him, but Yan Xi wished she could hide herself away. Before long, he walked over and sat down. As he took his seat, Yan Xi deliberately turned her face to the side.

Even so, without looking directly at him, her peripheral vision couldn't help but catch glimpses of him. The man’s gaze remained fixed on her. His long, slender fingers slowly stroked the jade thumb ring—the circular, winding motion was exactly the same as when he had been tracing behind her ear that morning. Yan Xi felt like a thief once more, her face burning hot.

Qinglian and Taohong both sensed their mistress’s unease and gently held her hands to soothe her. Yan Xi gradually steadied herself. Just then, a loud commotion broke out in the hall as everyone rose to their feet. Yan Xi followed suit, her beautiful eyes following the crowd.

Three people entered the hall. The man on the left was around forty-five or forty-six, looking upright, dignified, and possessed of a natural, imposing authority. Both his demeanor and attire were exquisitely noble. He was gently supporting the Old Madam, showing great respect to his mother. This was the head of the greatest clan in the Great Yong dynasty—the Duke of Ning, Lu Boling.

Yan Xi looked at him, feeling quite like a stranger. He had not changed much in six years. If she traced her memories further back, to when she was five or six, she remembered being at the Prince Sheng’s manor. It was a sunny summer day, the grass lush and green, the sun painting everything in gold. Prince Sheng’s son, Li Qianjin, was playing with her, and when she threw a tantrum and refused to walk, he carried her while she held a kitten. It was in such a state that she first met Lu Boling.

Yan Xi clearly remembered that he had been very kind and doting toward her, just like Prince Sheng, like a father to him. She even remembered him taking her from Li Qianjin’s arms and carrying her for a long time, showing her flowers and grass, spinning her around, and making her giggle uncontrollably...

But those memories felt surreal, as distant as another lifetime, now blurred beyond recognition. Yan Xi was lost in thought for a moment. By the time she returned to reality, the Duke and his party had already taken their seats. The air was filled with joyful voices.

He began to speak, his voice deep and mellow. Yan Xi followed the sound, her eyes pure and clear, watching this old friend of her father—who had raised her for six years—with great devotion. Yet, as she watched, her heart suddenly gave a slight tremble. Her peripheral vision caught sight of Lu Zhi again. The beauty in her memories suddenly vanished, leaving only urgency and panic. Yan Xi lowered her head, her slender white hands lifting the teacup to her lips to take a slow sip, masking the turmoil within her heart.