Ji Bozai raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping lazily across the chamber. Just as he was about to summon someone, a faint moan drifted from behind the bed curtains.
“My Lord has returned?” The voice was soft and hazy, like a dream.
He drew back the curtain, revealing the beauty within—her cheeks flushed, her breath uneven, as though she had just woken from a spring dream.
He sat casually at the edge of the bed, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips as his eyes flicked toward her shoes. “Didn’t Matron Xun say you were already up?”
She lowered her lashes. “I felt unwell, so I lay down again for a while.”
“Oh? Then why are you sweating?” His tone softened as he reached out to feel her forehead. “Are you ill?”
After all that frantic running earlier, it would have been strange if she wasn’t sweating.
Mingyi drew two shallow breaths and leaned into his touch, her voice trembling. “I had a nightmare. I dreamed that My Lord had found a new love and didn’t want me anymore.”
Ji Bozai chuckled. “How could that be? Yi’er is so charming—who could ever please me more than you?”
Had she not seen what happened in the study with her own eyes, she might have believed that tender lie.
She quickly wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled sweetly. “I knew My Lord was the best.”
Ji Bozai studied her face, amused. This little girl, trained in martial arts, could act so fragile and coquettish before him. Her background was spotless, yet her behavior was far too suspicious. Could the Grand Seer’s hand be behind her sudden appearance here?
He concealed his doubts with a smile, leaning close enough for his wine-laced breath to mingle with her scent. “If you don’t want to get up, then sleep a while longer.”
The fragrance of rouge mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol made her stomach twist. Mingyi frowned but quickly forced a smile, lowering her gaze. “My body aches terribly, all because of My Lord. I can’t sleep anymore. I should get up and help My Lord bathe.”
Her small hands pressed against his chest, betraying the disgust she tried to hide. Realizing her mistake, she hesitated—yet Ji Bozai only laughed softly.
“I used to think jealousy in women was the most unappealing thing,” he murmured, his tone teasing. “But now, I see it depends on the person.”
Mingyi froze. What did he mean by that? The woman in the study? Did he know she had been there?
Her gaze darted to her embroidered shoes beside the bed—still smudged with green moss from the roof tiles. A chill ran down her spine.
She was finished. Caught by the smallest detail.
Would he kill her for it? With his strength, it would take no more than a single slap.
But Ji Bozai’s expression remained gentle, even indulgent. He didn’t seem angry at all.
Did he really not know? Or was he pretending?
Her mind spun. Then, summoning all her courage, she began to cry—softly at first, then in trembling sobs. “My Lord, I tried my best.”
Her pitiful voice quivered, tears slipping down like pearls.
Ji Bozai frowned. “Tried your best at what? Why are you crying so suddenly?”
“I knew My Lord disliked jealous women. I told myself I wouldn’t show jealousy no matter what I saw. But… jealousy can’t be hidden.” Her voice broke. “I’m just a roadside flower My Lord plucked for a moment’s amusement. I never expected forever—only a few tender days to remember. I never thought that after just one day, My Lord would already have someone new.”
“I wanted to pretend I didn’t know,” she sobbed, “but when I heard you’d gone to the study, I went there to wait for you. Who knew I would stumble upon… upon…”
Her words dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking like grass in the rain.
Ji Bozai sighed and gently patted her back. “You went to the study? Why didn’t Matron Xun know?”
“My Lord’s study is a noble place. The matrons aren’t allowed there. I… I wanted to surprise My Lord, so I snuck in…”
“If you snuck in, where did you hide?”
“On the roof beam,” she admitted between sobs. “Since childhood, I followed my father to climb mountains and gather herbs. That study has a long table and shelves—it was easy to climb.”
She glared at him through her tears. “Even now, My Lord only cares where I hid! My Lord truly doesn’t care about me!”
Her tone was righteous, yet full of girlish stubbornness. Ji Bozai blinked in surprise. Had he truly misjudged her?
His gaze dropped to her hands. “Did you scrape the calluses off here?”
The question only made her cry harder. “Of course I did! I used to cut grass and chop wood, so my hands were rough. The matrons said noblemen hated that, so I used a small knife to scrape them off bit by bit. It hurt so much… and still, My Lord doesn’t like me…”
She looked so pitiful that even a stone-hearted man would have melted.
Ji Bozai finally sighed, his tone softening. “Alright, stop crying. I do like you.”
“You like me but bring another woman back? How long has it been?” Her eyes were red and shimmering with hurt. “I wasn’t expecting forever, but couldn’t we last a month or two?”
After her outburst, shame flooded her face. She lowered her head. “In the end, it’s up to My Lord. You can favor whomever you wish.”
Turning away, she pressed her head against the wall, her posture sulky and fragile.
Ji Bozai chuckled, pulling her back into his arms. “It was just a casual affair. Don’t take it to heart. She’s Prince Gong’s person—I had to bring her back. But here, in this courtyard, it’s just you and her. She won’t dare bully you.”
Mingyi cursed silently. Fickle men always found excuses.
Outwardly, she looked up at him with teary eyes. “Really? My Lord didn’t bring her back to sleep with her?”
“I only sleep with you,” he teased, brushing his fingers along her jaw.
She dodged, whimpering softly. “My Lord mustn’t scare me like that again. You don’t know how my heart felt when that door opened—it nearly shattered.”
And indeed, it had nearly shattered—from sheer terror.
She placed a trembling hand over her chest, still pretending to be fragile.
Ji Bozai laughed quietly, tracing his hand over her heart. “Then let me rub it for you.” His voice turned low and coaxing, his suspicion seemingly gone.
It wasn’t that he was careless. This villa was only a temporary residence—he would never keep anything vital here. If she truly had a mission, she wouldn’t have wasted her time searching this study.
Still, one question lingered in his mind: was Mingyi truly as weak as she claimed, or merely playing a deeper game?
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