Why do men and women come together?

He was wearing nothing underneath!

Lingran cursed the pervert in her heart, desperately trying to wriggle free from Chu Yu’s cloak. Yet as soon as she struggled, a sudden weakness washed over her waist—her arms and legs went limp. Had Chu Yu not reached out to catch her, she surely would have slipped to the ground.

The old eccentric rushed forward, grabbing both of her braids in his hands, examining Lingran by the moonlight. After a while, he nodded approvingly. “Hmm, this one’s good. You’ve got a keen eye. Since she’s Yuwa’s wife, I won’t take her. I’ll come find you tomorrow!” With that, he waved his hand, beckoned to the two little Taoists, and left.

He hopped and skipped away, humming "The Olive Tree" perfectly in tune. Lingran couldn’t help but be impressed; he’d only heard it once, yet had memorized it already. Truly a musical genius!

After a few soft cackles, the three vanished—who knows where. Lingran turned back to Chu Yu.

His face was cold as ice; he shoved her out from beneath his cloak.

Lingran shook out her arms and legs, feeling herself restored. She thought, whenever people see things they shouldn’t, they’re usually silenced. Since he’d saved her, he surely had no murderous intent; but if she lingered and he changed his mind, it’d be trouble! She hastily nodded and bowed. “Thank you, Your Highness, for saving me. I’ll take my leave.”

“Do you know how to behave yourself? Why did you come here?” Chu Yu’s tone was harsh.

Lingran, recalling that he had just saved her life, didn’t mind his poor attitude. She remembered that Lady Wang Yunshu had purposely pointed her in this direction, but without proof she didn’t want to complain. She forced a smile. “I’m new here and unfamiliar with the paths. I got lost. Thank you again, Your Highness.” She bowed and turned to leave.

But a shadow flashed before her eyes; Chu Yu was already blocking her path.

He was easily over six feet tall. Petite Lingran stood before him, robbed of all presence. She hurriedly stepped back. “Does Your Highness have any further instructions?”

“Do you not know that entering Xuexiang Pavilion means death?” Chu Yu’s voice was icy.

Lingran feared giving the wrong answer and suffering again, so she dared not speak—only shook her head.

A mocking smile flickered on Chu Yu’s lips, faint yet stirring something within her. “Could it be you came to Danhuai Hall to seek me, and that’s how you ended up here?”

This man was truly a narcissist. His disdainful attitude infuriated her more the longer she looked at him. She replied, “I don’t even know where Danhuai Hall is.”

“Then what were you doing wandering around Wanxiang Garden at night?” he pressed.

Lingran, reminded of the bundle she’d been carrying, now wondered where it had gone. Inside were gifts from Lord Hongxiao! She quickly looked around.

Her eyes darted everywhere; Chu Yu moved his foot, kicking over a dark lump—her bundle!

Delighted, Lingran picked it up and dusted it off, repeatedly thanking him. “Thank you, Your Highness, thank you! I only wanted to visit Fangyue Pavilion and chat with Lady Twelve’s maid. We were sold together and lived outside for several months.”

Chu Yu seemed unconvinced. He raised his chin slightly. “Open it.”

Lingran had no choice but to unfold the bundle.

Chu Yu glanced inside and asked coldly, “You brought clothes—were you planning to run away?”

His tone made it sound as if she were a thief. Lingran’s temper flared and she blurted out, “You’re a high and mighty prince; of course you don’t understand what life is like for a second-class maid! We don’t even have a proper place to bathe. Even if Your Highness thinks I’m shameless, I’m just not used to washing in front of strangers. That’s why I wanted to see if Lady Twelve would let me use hers. Is that so wrong?”

Chu Yu was taken aback; his expression gradually softened, unconsciously reaching up to touch his hair.

Lingran noticed his hair was not as ethereal as before—on closer look, it was wet and still dripping. He was barefoot, which meant he’d likely rushed out in a cloak while washing his hair or bathing.

Could he have jumped out of his bath at the sound of her cries for help? Lingran couldn’t stand people being kind to her; her heart softened, and she felt uneasy about her own attitude.

Chu Yu seemed about to leave, took a step, then turned back. “If being a maid is so troublesome, why not become my concubine?”

Lingran laughed brightly. “Does Your Highness really not understand? If a man and woman don’t love each other, why should they be joined? According to your logic, women marry out of necessity—what do men seek?”

Chu Yu had never considered the question. Now, confronted by Lingran, he fell into deep thought. The concubines he took were either gifts from his father or daughters of officials; since they were sent, he accepted them, not wanting to offend. But was the reason for marrying really so important?

When he came to himself, the moon hung bright overhead, flowers cast moving shadows, and the girl had vanished without a trace. In his mind flashed the image of her singing “Don’t ask me where I come from,” tears in her eyes, full of sorrow yet stubbornly cheerful. His heart tightened inexplicably, and he sighed at how her simple question had disarmed him—his vigilance faltered, his hearing dulled.

And yet, a prince was left standing here while a little maid slipped away—unprecedented! Chu Yu was so annoyed he almost chased after her to scold her, but his self-control prevailed. He forced himself to calm down and returned to finish his interrupted bath.

Lingran, clutching her bundle, left Xuexiang Pavilion and ran back along the path she’d come, bumping into an old woman making her rounds. At last she managed to ask directions to Fangyue Pavilion. She also checked the time—it was already late. If she went now, and Mo Han and the others were asleep, it would be too disruptive. Besides, returning too late might cause trouble. After much deliberation, she decided to head back, wash her hair, and visit for a bath tomorrow.

She made her way back to Chunze Manor; the gates, as Cai’er had said, were already closed. She had no choice but to knock gently.

“Is anyone there? Open up, Granny Jin!”

After a long while, a coarse voice shouted from inside, “Who’s there in the dead of night?”

Lingran glanced at the sky; it was only eight or nine o’clock. She swallowed her annoyance. “Granny, I’m a maid from Lady Seven’s rooms. I had some business with Lady Twelve, got delayed. Please open the door.”

“Lady Seven sending someone to Lady Twelve? Did I hear right?” the old woman asked curiously, but didn’t open the gate.

Lingran answered honestly, “It wasn’t Lady Seven who sent me. Granny, let me in first and I’ll explain.”

Hearing it wasn’t on Lady Seven’s orders, Granny Jin seemed suddenly invigorated. “Oh! If everyone were like you, how would I ever get any sleep? There are rules in the manor—if I don’t report you, you should count your blessings, but you still expect me to open the door! Serves you right to teach you maids a lesson, otherwise we’d be worked to death. You won’t be getting in tonight!”

The old crone’s spirit was astonishingly lively; she adamantly refused to open the gate. Lingran gritted her teeth and cursed, repeatedly reaching for the silver notes in her pocket, thinking if she gave Granny one worth five taels, surely she’d open the door. But then she reconsidered—these bad habits were created by such indulgence. She mustn’t encourage it. It wasn’t as if she’d never slept outdoors! Luckily, she still had clothes; sleeping outside wouldn’t be too cold.

So she gave up knocking, sat on the steps by the gate, hugging her knees and reflecting on the day’s events.

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It’s the end of the month—begging here for votes and support! The PK is nearly over, endless thanks to everyone who voted for me.