Chapter 2: The Night Is Not Yet Over

That night, Shen Mo did not know how he had managed to endure it.

After the effects of the Aphrodisiac Incense receded, he curled up in his chair, feeling as if every ounce of strength had been drained from his body.

Lady Yunhe had left at some point, leaving behind nothing but the cold moonlight on the floor and that Bronze Censer.

The incense in the censer had long since burned out, leaving only a handful of grayish-white ash.

He stared at that pile of ash for a long time.

It was not until the horizon turned the color of a fish’s belly that a young maid knocked on the door from outside. “Lord? Lord, it is time to rise.”

Shen Mo moved his fingers and found that he could still function.

He propped himself up by the back of the chair to stand. As his inner robe slipped down, he glanced down—there was a red mark on his collarbone left by Yun He.

He rubbed it with his thumb, but it would not fade.

“Lord?”

“I heard you,” he spoke, his voice so raspy that it startled even himself. “I will return to my room to change at once.”

He pushed open the door, and the morning light forced him to squint.

The young maid was waiting under the corridor. When she saw him emerge, she froze for a moment. “Lord, your face…”

“I did not sleep well last night.” Shen Mo lowered his eyes and quickened his pace toward the bedchamber. “Prepare breakfast as usual; there is no need for anything special.”

“Yes.”

As he crossed the veranda and passed the courtyard where the disciples gathered in the morning, he heard people talking inside.

“… Lady Yunhe came last night? How come I didn’t see her?”

“You sleep like a pig, what could you possibly see? I heard from the senior steward that she came to bring a celebratory gift to the Lord.”

“A gift? What kind of gift?”

“Who knows. Likely some rare treasures; Yunyin Mountain is a major sect, after all.”

“Speaking of which, the Lord really has it hard. The Peak Master has been in seclusion for so long, and he has to manage everything inside and out by himself.”

“Isn’t that the truth? My mother says such a husband is the most virtuous of all. She told us to look for someone just like him in the future…”

Their laughter drifted away.

Shen Mo stood at the corner and waited for them to walk far off before he continued forward.

Virtuous.

There were those two words again.

He looked down at his hands. These hands managed the entirety of Jiaoyue Peak, holding account books, distributing medicinal pills, and handling all the social obligations with perfect propriety.

For seven years, everyone had praised him for being virtuous.

No one had ever asked him if he was tired.

The door to the bedchamber closed behind him, and he finally leaned against the wood, slowly sliding down until he sat on the floor.

His temples throbbed. The events of the previous night played through his mind like a spinning lantern—Yun He’s eyes, her fingers, the kisses she left on his neck… and that figure standing in the moonlight outside the door.

Chao’er.

She had seen it.

She had seen everything.

But why hadn’t she come in?

Shen Mo closed his eyes. The flash of excitement he had glimpsed in the depths of her eyes that night was like a thorn stuck in his heart, impossible to pull out.

‘Was that excitement? Or did I see it wrong?’

‘Maybe I saw it wrong. The Aphrodisiac Incense burned my mind into a blur; it’s possible I was mistaken.’

He told himself this.

But the thought continued to grow in his heart like a creeping vine.

……

For the next few days, Shen Mo deliberately avoided Chao’er.

She was originally supposed to pay her respects to him every day—she was Wan’er’s disciple, and Wan’er had entrusted her to his care before going into seclusion.

He had watched her grow from a young girl to the 17 or 18-year-old she was now, teaching her the rules, how to conduct herself, and how to navigate the relationships between her fellow disciples.

She had always respected him and had never put a foot wrong.

But after that night, he did not dare to see her.

He did not know how to face those eyes.

Fortunately, Chao’er did not come to pay her respects either. A steward disciple reported that she had requested leave, claiming she was going into seclusion to push for Foundation Establishment Level 3.

Shen Mo breathed a sigh of relief.

Yet, he felt inexplicably uneasy.

The image of her standing outside the door that night frequently appeared in his dreams.

The moonlight had illuminated her face, and the more he thought about the emotions in her eyes, the more… complex they seemed.

It wasn’t just shock.

It wasn’t just anger.

There was something else.

He couldn’t put it into words.

Nor did he dare to think about it deeply.

Five days later, Chao’er emerged from seclusion.

When she came to pay her respects, Shen Mo was in the storehouse checking the account book.

Sunlight filtered through the window slats, making the characters on the pages look a bit dazzling.

“Master’s Husband.”

Her voice sounded at the doorway.

His hand holding the brush tightened, and he looked up.

She stood outside the threshold, wearing the moon-white disciple uniform with her hair neatly tied.

In the sunlight, her face looked a bit thinner than it had five days ago, her chin more pointed, but her eyes were brighter.

“You’ve finished your seclusion?” he asked.

“Yes.” She stepped over the threshold and stood before him, performing a proper salutation. “This disciple has come to pay respects to the Master’s Husband.”

Shen Mo lowered his eyes and returned to the account book. “Mm. You’ve reached Foundation Establishment Level 3?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. A new batch of pills arrived at the peak this month. Go and collect two bottles of Spirit Gathering Pills later; consider it a reward for your breakthrough.”

“Thank you, Master’s Husband.”

Her voice sounded the same as usual, with no sign of anything strange.

He relaxed slightly and looked up, intending to say a few more words of encouragement, but he collided with her gaze.

She was watching him.

It wasn’t the usual respectful gaze of a disciple paying respects; she was looking directly at his face, into his eyes, and her gaze even… shifted downward, landing on his neck.

Shen Mo froze.

The marks from that night had long since vanished. But when her gaze landed there, he still felt that patch of skin grow burning hot, as if scorched by something.

“Chao’er.” He put down his brush.

She retracted her gaze and lowered her eyes. “Does the Master’s Husband have any instructions?”

“You…”

He wanted to ask her about that night, but the words reached his lips and were swallowed back down.

What would he even ask her? Ask her why she didn’t come in? Ask her why she could stand here acting as if nothing happened after seeing that scene? Ask her what that hint of excitement in her eyes was about?

He couldn’t ask any of those things.

“… It is nothing. You may go.”

She did not move.

“Master’s Husband,” she suddenly spoke, “are you still keeping that celebratory gift Lady Yunhe sent?”

Shen Mo’s heart skipped a beat.

“What gift?” He heard his own voice, as steady as if he were talking about someone else’s business.

“That censer,” she said, lifting her eyes. “The bronze one with people carved on it. That night, this disciple saw the steward brother carrying it into the main hall.”

He looked into her eyes.

Those eyes were very clean, as clear as a spring that reflected everything.

But he could not see what was hidden beneath the surface.

“That was something sent by the Honored Teacher of the Peak Master, so it is naturally kept in the storehouse,” he said. “Why? Are you interested in that censer?”

“No.” She shook her head and gave a small smile. “It’s just that when I passed the main hall that night, I smelled a fragrance and thought it was pleasant. I later asked the steward brother, and he said the gift from the Lady had been lit. This disciple was wondering what kind of incense it was to smell so good.”

When she said this, her tone was very casual, as if she were merely commenting on the weather.

But a cold sweat broke out on Shen Mo’s back.

She had smelled it.

That night, standing outside the door, she had smelled the Aphrodisiac Incense.

She knew what it was.

“It was just ordinary calming incense,” he said. “If you like it, I will have the storehouse set some aside for you later.”

“Thank you, Master’s Husband.”

She performed another salutation and turned to leave.

The sunlight hit her, making her moon-white robes shimmer slightly. Her back looked exactly the same as before, her steps light and her spine straight.

But as she reached the door, she suddenly stopped.

“Master’s Husband.” She did not turn around.

“Yes?”

“Lady Yunhe… is truly good to you, Master’s Husband.”

Having said that, she stepped over the threshold and disappeared into the sunlight.

Shen Mo sat in his place, not moving for a long time.

His palms were ice-cold and soaked with sweat.

……

After that day, Chao’er seemed to return to her usual self.

She came to pay her respects every day, bowed properly, and spoke with perfect decorum.

She asked about her lessons, about the affairs of the peak, and occasionally shared interesting news about the other disciples.

When she laughed, she looked just as she had before, her eyes curving with a hint of the playful innocence unique to the young.

But Shen Mo just felt that something was wrong.

Her gaze.

The way she looked at him had changed.

Before, she looked at him with the respect a disciple has for a Master’s Husband, with the attachment a junior feels for a senior.

But now, when those eyes landed on him, they always reminded him of someone else’s gaze.

Yun He.

That was the look Lady Yunhe gave him.

It wasn’t respect, and it wasn’t attachment.

It was something else.

He didn’t dare think too deeply about it and could only avoid her with increasing caution.

If he could avoid seeing her, he would; if he could stay away, he did. But she was Wan’er’s disciple and he was her Master’s Husband; no matter how he tried to hide, he couldn’t escape entirely.

In the blink of an eye, autumn arrived.

The maple leaves on Jiaoyue Peak turned red, making the mountains look as if they were on fire.

Every year at this time, winter supplies had to be prepared and the expenses for each courtyard had to be audited, keeping him incredibly busy.

That day, Shen Mo was in the storehouse inventorying the grain reserves when Chao’er suddenly arrived.

“Master’s Husband.”

He was standing on a ladder checking the hemp bags at the top. When he heard her voice, his foot slipped, and he nearly fell.

She stepped forward in a few quick strides and grabbed the ladder.

“Careful, Master’s Husband.”

Shen Mo looked down at her. Her hands were gripping the ladder, her knuckles only 1 inch away from the hem of his robe.

She looked up at him, the sunlight hitting her eyes so brightly it was blinding.

“I am fine,” he said. “Why have you come?”

“This disciple came to help,” she said. “I heard the storehouse has been very busy these past few days, and the Master’s Husband cannot manage it all alone.”

“The steward disciples are here.”

“They are clumsy; what if they break something?” She smiled. “This disciple has been working under the Master’s Husband since I was a child. Having been taught by you, I am bound to be more careful than them.”

Her words were flawless.

Shen Mo had no way to refuse.

“Then… help me record the numbers,” he said. “The account book is down there. I will call them out, and you will write.”

“Very well.”

She took the account book from the shelf, turned to a new page, and waited with her brush.

Shen Mo stood on the ladder and called out the counts bag by bag.

“Polished rice, twenty-three bags.”

“Recorded.”

“Broomcorn millet, seventeen bags.”

“Recorded.”

“Soybeans, nine bags.”

“Recorded.”

Her handwriting had been taught by him, and it was neat and upright.

Occasionally, after he finished a count, she would look up at him, her gaze fluttering lightly across his face before returning to the book.

At first, Shen Mo didn’t mind, but after being watched like that so many times, his skin began to crawl.

“Chao’er.” He stopped counting.

“Yes?”

“What are you looking at?”

She blinked, looking completely innocent. “Looking at the Master’s Husband, of course.”

Shen Mo was choked for words.

“This disciple is recording the numbers,” she said, “but I also have to look at the Master’s Husband to know if you’ve finished. What if I miss something?”

There was no fault in her logic.

He had nothing to say and could only continue the count.

They went from grain to cloth, then to medicinal herbs and miscellaneous items.

She stayed from the afternoon until the sun began to sink in the west, helping him finish an entire book.

“That is all.” Shen Mo closed the last account book and climbed down from the ladder. “Thank you for today.”

“You are too kind, Master’s Husband.” She closed the book and handed it to him. “The Master’s Husband taught this disciple; helping with such a small task is only right.”

He took the book, preparing to put it back on the shelf.

Suddenly, she reached out and pressed her hand against his wrist.

Shen Mo froze.

Her hand was very hot, like a ball of fire, burning his wrist until it was painful.

“Chao’er,” he said in a low voice.

“Master’s Husband.” She didn’t let go; instead, she tightened her grip. “That incense from that night—it wasn’t calming incense, was it?”

His heart constricted violently.

“This disciple checked later.” She looked into his eyes, saying each word clearly. “That was Aphrodisiac Incense. A secret product of Yunyin Mountain that ordinary people cannot obtain.”

Shen Mo tried to pull his hand back, but he couldn’t move it.

She looked like a small, thin girl, but her strength was surprisingly immense.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked.

“This disciple wants to know,” she stepped a pace closer, near enough for him to see the fine patterns in her irises, “what Lady Yunhe did to the Master’s Husband that night.”