Chapter Seventy-Four: Can She Ever Escape the Palm of His Hand?

The prime minister’s pleas were useless; his wife was taken to prison. When the eldest young lady of the prime minister’s household learned of this, her illness worsened considerably. For a time, this incident became the talk of the town, a topic for idle gossip over tea and meals.

Thus, the farce finally came to an end.

Shen Nanyuan had already harbored suspicions that Lady Meng was the culprit, so she felt no surprise upon hearing the news. Besides, with things as they were, Meng Chuyue—though she said nothing—must be quite pleased. With the mistress of the house gone and the eldest young lady bedridden and growing sicker by the day, there was no telling when she might recover. Soon enough, the entire household would be in Meng Chuyue’s hands.

One might say the prime minister’s fate was rather pitiful. Now he was left with only his second daughter by his side. When Shen Nanyuan saw him bring his wife to the Duke Protector’s manor, he looked utterly exhausted, no doubt having slept poorly. But in such circumstances, who could possibly wear a pleasant face?

After her injury, Shen Nanyuan needed her wound dressed daily, and each time, Qingrui, Jin Zhu, and Madam Shen would watch her intently, as if she were gravely ill—though in truth, it was nothing more than a change of dressing. She dared not look at the wound herself, but Qingrui said the flesh had turned up at the edges, blood vividly red and frightfully stark. Changing the bandage was painful enough to draw sharp, quiet breaths from her, and when it wasn’t being changed, the wound throbbed with a dull, constant ache. She couldn’t sleep well, and as a result, her appetite vanished these past few days, leaving her pale and weak.

Seeing her so frail, Xiao Yan couldn’t help but feel pained himself. He hadn’t left the Shaohua Courtyard for days. Shen Sinian too had no mind for anything else; he would rush home as soon as his duties ended. Shen Nanyuan had only injured her arm, yet with the fuss they made, one would think she was on her deathbed. Moreover, her injury wasn’t nearly as severe as Xiao Yan’s had been at Puyue Temple. Still, one had to admit, the mistress of the prime minister’s house was truly formidable—first injuring Xiao Yan, and now her, both times on the right arm. Shen Nanyuan could hardly find words for it.

Since her injury, Gao Xueluo and others had come to the Duke Protector’s manor to see her. Meng Chuyue, feeling deeply guilty over what had happened, brought many fine medicines on her visits. Though Shen Sinian and the others bore her no grudge, Meng Chuyue remained remorseful. With all matters of the prime minister’s household now in her hands, she was busy day and night but still made time to check on Shen Nanyuan.

Xiao Yan was always present, standing silently at her side, giving Shen Nanyuan the odd sense that he was there to keep an eye on Meng Chuyue. But on second thought, that seemed unlikely—what would he have to guard against?

Surely, he was just here for her.

Shen Nanyuan sighed inwardly; whether she was injured or not, she was always the most effective catalyst for the romance between the protagonists. Her wound meant there were many things she couldn’t eat, and her meals had become bland and tasteless. She invited Meng Chuyue to stay for lunch at Shaohua Courtyard, and looking at the plain dishes covering the table, she grumbled helplessly, “Look at this—so bland. Would you want to eat it?”

Meng Chuyue looked puzzled. “This is how I usually eat.”

So, she had a preference for light flavors.

Shen Nanyuan’s arm was no longer as weak as before; recently she’d been able to use chopsticks again. She carefully picked up a dish and ate it—it was bland, completely devoid of taste. After a few bites, she lost her appetite entirely.

Xiao Yan frowned, his expression cool and resolute, leaving no room for debate. “Miss, eat a bit more.”

“I’ve already eaten plenty,” Shen Nanyuan replied. Her bowl was still more than half full, and Xiao Yan knew she used to have an appetite for two bowls.

His tone remained calm yet carried an inexplicable force. “Miss.”

Just being addressed like that made her feel oddly unsettled.

Shen Nanyuan pouted, picking up her chopsticks again. “Fine, I’ll have a few more bites. But after that, you’re not allowed to make me eat any more!”

Lowering her gaze, she felt a little lost. Ever since their return from the flower-viewing, Xiao Yan had grown uncharacteristically assertive. Though still calm and soft-spoken, his words compelled her to obey, almost despite herself. He used to be so obedient—when had his temperament changed so much? Shen Nanyuan couldn’t help but mutter inwardly.

Meng Chuyue’s gaze flickered quickly over Xiao Yan’s face before she looked down, troubled by a quiet anxiety and a trace of fear. He was far too guarded with her—ever since their return from the flower-viewing. Sometimes, the look he directed her way was so cold and dark, it was like the chill wind of midwinter, making her hair stand on end.

She knew that no one in the Duke Protector’s manor blamed her.

But this one outsider remained wary and resentful, as if guarding against her revealing something about his identity in Shen Nanyuan’s presence. In short, his hostility toward her was unmistakable.

Meng Chuyue’s eyes lifted slightly, falling on Shen Nanyuan, who was eating dutifully, and she felt a pang of worry. She could see Xiao Yan’s obsession with Shen Nanyuan, thinly veiled at times. His background was complicated, and the place he would eventually return to was fraught with danger—a place where one might be devoured, bones and all. Shen Nanyuan was not suited for such a world.

Meng Chuyue wanted to warn her, but she never found the chance. Lately, whenever she visited, Xiao Yan was always by Shen Nanyuan’s side, his gaze issuing a silent warning that left Meng Chuyue anxious.

But thinking on it now, if someone like him set his sights on you, could you ever escape his grasp, no matter how you ran?

Shen Nanyuan finished half her bowl of rice, blissfully unaware of the swirling thoughts of those beside her. “I’m done eating.” Only when Xiao Yan said nothing did she turn to Meng Chuyue with a smile, “Chuyue, you should eat more.”

Meng Chuyue nodded. “Alright.” She pressed her lips together, all her worries flooding back at once, and found she had little appetite herself.

Just then, Shen Sinian suddenly entered Shaohua Courtyard. His expression was somewhat grim, but he nodded to Meng Chuyue before saying, “The Second Prince is here.”

At these words, not only Shen Nanyuan but even Xiao Yan’s face darkened, his expression turning almost frighteningly cold.

“He’s come to see you.”

The last time Shen Nanyuan had entered the palace, she’d been so disgusted by the prince and his mother that she’d tossed the luminous pearl they gave her straight into storage. Now, at the mere mention of the Second Prince, she felt restless and annoyed.

She let out a quiet sigh. “Let’s go, then.” With an apologetic smile to Meng Chuyue, she said, “Chuyue, please wait for me here a while. I’ll be back soon.”