The Vicious Woman and the White Moonlight are both me - Chapter 13

Although she could have used points to skip it, Song Zhaoyan thought it was always good to learn more, so she sat in the front row, paying the utmost attention. The instructor was genuinely surprised, thinking to himself, why is Princess Zhaohua being so diligent today?

But after a while, Song Zhaoyan began to feel sleepy and lost all interest. Her gaze kept wandering—sometimes to the scrolls on the walls, sometimes to the carved beams above—her mind had long since drifted away.

Better to slack off happily than suffer in forced diligence. After all, she could exchange her points for plenty of wealth later. Studying seriously now didn’t match her current persona.

Having made up her mind, Song Zhaoyan rested her head on one hand and stared blankly ahead.

Seeing this, the instructor could only shake his head in helpless resignation. Yes, this was truly Princess Zhaohua’s nature.

That entire morning, Song Zhaoyan caused no trouble for Pei Shen. And because of her warning the day before, the other princes and princesses dared not provoke him either, fearing her displeasure.

Though Pei Shen was left alone, Song Zhaoyan turned her attention to “teasing” Pei Chengyun instead.

For example, she asked him what he thought of her outfit today.

Pei Chengyun, trying not to embarrass himself, said he didn’t know much about women’s makeup and that she had asked the wrong person.

Song Zhaoyan then asked what gift he intended to give her when she reached the age of maturity.

Pei Chengyun replied casually, “We’ll see about that when the time comes.”

But Song Zhaoyan was not satisfied. She lowered her head shyly, fiddling with her sleeves in a demure pose, and pressed him further: what kind of girls did he like?

Pei Chengyun immediately understood the implication—Song Zhaoyan liked him. After reaching maturity, she would naturally be married.

Normally, girls would be betrothed before coming of age and married soon after. But given the emperor’s great affection for Song Zhaoyan, he would likely delay her marriage by a year or two.

Pei Chengyun recognized the advantages of marrying Song Zhaoyan—but precisely because those advantages were so great, he could not openly pursue her, lest the emperor become suspicious.

Moreover, it was his unique character and attitude that had drawn Song Zhaoyan’s attention. If he became like everyone else, flattering her in every way, she might lose interest.

Thus, the best course was for Song Zhaoyan to petition the emperor herself, allowing him to consent to the marriage, rather than Pei Chengyun requesting it.

Considering all this carefully, Pei Chengyun answered thoughtfully:

“Matters of marriage should be decided by the emperor and the empress. I have no authority to speak on such things. But if you mean the kind of girl I like, I favor those well-versed in poetry and literature, talented, and kind-hearted.”

The first part of his words made it clear: if she wanted to marry him, she would have to go to the emperor for approval.

The latter part, given his current attitude toward Song Zhaoyan, was deliberately tricky. After all, the qualities he described had little to do with her at all.

Had he said outright that he liked someone like Song Zhaoyan, it would have clashed with the character he had carefully cultivated.

Thinking this, Pei Chengyun silently cursed Song Zhaoyan in his heart. Others who fawned over her were ignored; she preferred those who treated her coldly.

Upon hearing Pei Chengyun’s words, Song Zhaoyan suddenly seemed to realize something. She froze for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“Fifth Brother is learned and well-read, so naturally he favors those with a kindred spirit.”

Pei Chengyun, suspecting nothing, returned to his book.

He maintained a carefully measured detachment toward the original princess, never answering every question. But answering even one would fill her with joy.

Now, Song Zhaoyan’s smile was perfectly in tune with this.

During this time, perhaps mindful of her image in front of Pei Chengyun, she refrained from causing any trouble for Pei Shen.

Hearing Pei Chengyun’s words, Pei Shen glanced at Song Zhaoyan and let out a cold snort.

He silently cursed her as thick-headed—she hadn’t even caught Pei Chengyun’s hidden meaning.

But none of that was his concern.

Class was still in session, with the instructor meticulously lecturing, while Song Zhaoyan, seated in the front row, continued to drift off in her own world. When the morning lessons ended and it was time for lunch, Song Zhaoyan didn’t go eat. Instead, she went to see the Grand Tutor.

Since Song Zhaoyan wasn’t eating, Pei Shen, her attendant, naturally could not eat either.

However, this time she didn’t allow Pei Shen to follow her, leaving him unsure of her intentions.

Pei Shen stood by the rock garden outside the study hall, hungry, waiting silently. He lost track of time until he finally saw Song Zhaoyan emerge. He then followed her back to Chaoyang Palace.

The usual routine followed: Pei Shen served the dishes and then ate what she left behind.

After lunch, Song Zhaoyan caused a commotion again, claiming she didn’t want to attend afternoon lessons and insisting Pei Shen go alone.

Surprised, he didn’t argue. After all, being away from her meant fewer torments and humiliations.

Song Zhaoyan had already declared that no one was allowed to mistreat Pei Shen, or it would be considered an insult to her. That warning had a remarkably strong effect.

And coupled with what had happened yesterday at Fengyi Palace, many had already heard the news.

Song Zhaoyan had openly confronted the Empress.

So even though she wasn’t attending class with Pei Shen now, the other princes and princesses in the study hall dared not act against the lone Ninth Prince.

Several eyes lingered on Pei Shen as he took his seat, then quickly averted, murmuring quietly among themselves.

Song Zhaoyan skipping class wasn’t considered unusual, but Pei Chengyun, noticing Pei Shen sitting alone, fell silent for a moment in thought before rising and walking over to him.

To Song Zhaoyan, Pei Chengyun maintained a cold, distant demeanor. But toward his siblings, he showed genuine care.

Adopting the manner of an elder brother, he began to show concern for Pei Shen.

“Ninth Brother, are you all right after yesterday’s incident?”

Children born into the royal family quickly learned that appearances could be deceiving, and Pei Shen, having suffered cold stares and mistreatment since childhood, knew very well that no one showed kindness without reason.

After enduring mistreatment from his brothers for so long, Pei Chengyun had never intervened. Now, showing concern out of the blue—who would believe there was no other motive?

Pei Shen, however, put on the demeanor of a respectful younger brother and replied to Pei Chengyun with gratitude, “Thank you for your concern, Fifth Brother. I’m fine.”

Pei Chengyun sighed in response. “Yesterday… I know it was Princess Zhaohua causing you trouble. Father dotes on her so much that none of us can do anything about it. From now on, you should try to avoid her as much as possible.”

Avoid her? Pei Shen found that laughable. He certainly wanted to…

“Unfortunately, that’s impossible,” Pei Shen shook his head. “Princess Zhaohua says no one may bully me, yet she keeps tormenting me herself. Fifth Brother, your relationship with her is different—go speak to her, help your Ninth Brother.”

As he spoke, Pei Shen put on a pitiful expression.

If you want to play the part of the good older brother, then commit to it fully. After all, Pei Shen was no fool. It didn’t take much thought to realize who had been talking too much at Fengyi Palace yesterday.

Song Zhaoyan and the Empress were already at odds. Anyone who offended Song Zhaoyan would be dealt with by her alone. She wouldn’t go to the Empress to complain, expecting her to intervene.

So, someone else had been involved.

Faced with Pei Shen’s words, Pei Chengyun froze. He feigned annoyance. “Ninth Brother, don’t speak nonsense. What do you mean Princess Zhaohua feels differently toward me? If others hear that, it could cause trouble!”

But Pei Shen deliberately raised his voice. “I understand, Fifth Brother. For you to even speak words of concern is already rare. I shouldn’t ask for more. Expecting you to truly do anything for me would be too much.”

Pei Shen’s words naturally drew the curiosity of the other princes and princesses, who all turned to watch him and Pei Chengyun, whispering among themselves.

Many had long seen through Pei Chengyun’s false kindness, especially given how Song Zhaoyan bullied and tormented everyone else while treating him differently. His so-called concern had never won their respect.

Now, seeing him appear to comfort Pei Shen, they couldn’t resist taking the opportunity to speak up.

Leading the charge was the Third Prince, Pei Chengxuan, who had just been warned by Song Zhaoyan the day before.

“What’s going on with Fifth Brother? Trying to play the good guy but only doing it with words? Might as well say nothing and let Ninth Brother endure it! Don’t anger Princess Zhaohua!”

Pei Chengxuan arched an eyebrow with a deliberately mischievous grin, exposing Pei Chengyun’s hypocrisy and making him look somewhat uncomfortable.

“Third Brother, mind your own business. You should be glad Princess Zhaohua didn’t come this afternoon, or things would have gotten unpleasant for you.”

His words carried a warning: Song Zhaoyan was favorably disposed toward Pei Chengyun, and if Pei Chengxuan continued to speak recklessly, she might take offense and intervene against him.

Pei Chengxuan caught the meaning, shot a sharp glare at the two of them, and strode back to his seat with a wave of his sleeve.

Pei Shen looked at Pei Chengyun and let out a cold, bitter laugh in his heart.

His lips spoke of keeping others from gossiping about him and Song Zhaoyan, yet he was still taking advantage of her name for his own benefit.

All lies.

The afternoon passed uneventfully, and when Pei Shen returned to Chaoyang Palace, he saw Song Zhaoyan sprawled among a pile of books in a rather ungraceful posture, seemingly buried in study.

After an entire afternoon of reading, she finally tore her gaze away from the pages and looked at Pei Shen. “This afternoon I didn’t go—did Fifth Brother mention me?”

He did, but not in the way Song Zhaoyan expected.

“Do you want the truth, Princess?” Pei Shen asked.

With a sharp “plop,” Song Zhaoyan tossed the book in her hand aside, straightened her posture, and said, “You’re already my servant, yet you still act so defiant and unruly. Not an ounce of discipline in you. When I ask you something, you answer—yet you dare to stall and resist?”

Pei Shen’s expression remained unchanged as he answered.

“Fifth Brother mentioned you, Princess, but mostly he was worried I might be mistreated by you. He also said I should avoid you.”

It wasn’t a lie; even if Song Zhaoyan asked him directly, it was the truth.

Song Zhaoyan deliberately leaned forward. “Fifth Brother said that? I think you made that up!”

“I just knew the princess wouldn’t believe me, so why bother asking? But there is something I really need to tell you. Since you like Fifth Brother but are close to me… even though I know you have no such intentions, aren’t you afraid… Fifth Brother might misunderstand?”