Chapter 8

“Why is the sachet I gave the Crown Prince here?”

Wen Mingzhu’s familiar voice came from outside the carriage.

Her maid answered, “The crowd must have knocked it loose.”

Only a thin carriage wall separated us.

Xing Ye’s eyes were red at the corners, his wicked dimple silently asking what I feared.

I regretted everything. I should have taken the jade and left.

Even the wind betrayed me. It lifted one corner of the curtain, and Wen Mingzhu’s brilliant golden hairpin flashed through the gap. If she turned her head, she would look directly at me.

I clutched Xing Ye’s arm.

He remained maddeningly calm.

I ducked beneath the window and whispered into his ear, one word at a time, “Yanzhi. Do. Not. Speak.”

Someone lit a chain of lamps beside the grove. Rouge-colored light seeped through the curtain.

Afraid he would cause trouble, I held him tightly and dared not move. For once, he cooperated, wrapping his arms around me.

His breath was soft and close. My heartbeat was heavy and fast. His scent held an unexpectedly sweet trace of warm milk.

Such softness did not suit a man like him.

For a while, Wen Mingzhu fell silent. The fireworks had ended, and visitors began leaving the bridge to find their carriages. Hooves struck the road. Women laughed, jewelry chimed, husbands murmured to wives, and families traveled home together.

Perhaps because we were embracing too tightly, or because the night dew had turned cold, a strange illusion came over me.

He and I seemed like two wandering ghosts outside the mortal world, clinging to each other because we had no one else.

The illusion lasted only a moment.

“Miss, this appears to be His Highness’s carriage.”

“Crown Prince?” Wen Mingzhu called several times.

I watched Xing Ye, terrified he would answer. He smiled without speaking and tightened his arm around my waist.

Footsteps approached.

I sat with my back to the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A thread of wind slipped beneath the curtain. A slipper stepped onto the carriage board. The curtain began to rise, spilling a spray of light into one corner.

Another inch, and everything would be exposed.

I gripped Xing Ye’s arm and stared at him.

He pressed a fierce kiss to my mouth, wanton enough to destroy us both.

“Are you looking for His Highness, Miss Wen?” a deep voice suddenly asked.

The curtain stopped.

It was Zhou Chen, Xing Ye’s personal shadow guard.

“If you are here, where is His Highness?” Wen Mingzhu asked.

“Waiting for you ahead.”

Her hand released the curtain. She followed Zhou Chen away.

“Am I so shameful that I cannot be seen when I am with you?” Xing Ye sighed.

I gathered the flowers scattered across the floor. “You will not have to endure such humiliation again.”

This was our final transaction.

One of my earrings was missing. “Have you seen it?”

“No.”