The Vicious Woman and the White Moonlight are both me - Chapter 22

After being beaten during the day, even though an imperial physician had been summoned, it was hardly surprising that by nightfall Pei Shen developed a high fever.

Song Zhaoyan glanced at her ample stock of points, then looked at the unconscious Pei Shen for a long while. In the end, her heart softened, and she exchanged them for medicine with better effects.

Seeing that Pei Shen clearly wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, she did not bother exchanging anything to keep him unconscious—there was no need to waste points.

Diluting the medicine in water, Song Zhaoyan stirred it while saying, “I really am beautiful and kindhearted. Look at us—no relation at all—yet I treat you this well without you knowing. Ahh. Let’s just consider it as an act of kindness.”

With that, she fed the medicine to Pei Shen spoonful by spoonful.

Although he was unconscious, after the imperial physician had treated him, no one had stayed to tend to him. With the weather so hot and having gone so long without water, the moment the cracked lips felt moisture, his throat instinctively began to swallow.

Once the medicine was finished, his fever quickly subsided. After confirming that Pei Shen should be fine for the night, Song Zhaoyan finally stretched and yawned before left Qianqian Residence.

The night was deep and quiet. Song Zhaoyan did not notice that the moment she turned away, Pei Shen, lying on the bed, slowly opened his eyes. Although his vision was blurry, he was certain there was a figure by the doorway.

However, the pain left him no room to think further. He was only awake for that brief moment before sinking back into unconsciousness.

With such severe injuries, Pei Shen was naturally in no condition to attend lessons at the Wenxue Hall. Pei Chengyun was under house arrest and had lessons delivered by a Junior Tutor, so he wouldn’t be going to the Wenxue Hall either. As a result, Song Zhaoyan was finally spared from having to rise early each day to follow Pei Chengyun there.

Her days became leisurely—sleeping and eating like a contented parasite. Occasionally, she would send Xue Zhi to inquire about Pei Shen’s condition, and she even issued an order: the moment Pei Shen showed any improvement, he was to return immediately to serve her.

Upon hearing this, he should have been angry. Yet his thoughts drifted back to that day at Penglai Pavilion—when the usually detestable Song Zhaoyan had spoken up in his defense and even seemed to want to plead for him when His Majesty ordered the beating.

The moment the word plead surfaced in Pei Shen’s mind, he scoffed inwardly.

What a joke! Song Zhaoyan pleading on his behalf?

And yet, the more he told himself it hadn’t been pleading, the more he found himself unable to stop replaying the scene, scrutinizing every tiny detail, trying to find proof that Song Zhaoyan had been defending him.

But how could that be possible? How could Song Zhaoyan ever treat him that way? She was the sort who would rather see him bullied—the worse, the better.

What Pei Shen did not know was that the reason his injuries healed so quickly was because the medicine left in his room had not been prescribed by the imperial physician at all, rather exchanged by Song Zhaoyan herself.

Don’t overthink it, Pei Shen told himself. If he truly harbored any expectations toward that venomous, snake-hearted Song Zhaoyan, then he would really be humiliating himself.

After resting for more than ten days, Pei Shen’s wounds had already scabbed over. Walking was still somewhat difficult—he could get out of bed but could not stand for long—so he continued to recuperate.

During this time, the Emperor issued an order assigning a court official’s daughter to serve as Song Zhaoyan’s study companion.

General Zhan was reluctant to have his daughter assigned as a study companion to Princess Zhaohua, but an imperial command could not be defied, so he had no choice but to agree.

Zhan Xinyue herself, however, felt no reluctance at all. In fact, she was rather eager—for she wanted to know whether the expert she had encountered at the Qiqiao Festival was by Princess Zhaohua’s side… or perhaps—whether that person was Princess Zhaohua herself.

The thought was utterly far-fetched, yet Zhan Xinyue could not help but speculate.

But after spending many days at Chaoyang Palace, probing both openly and subtly several times, she became completely certain that Song Zhaoyan did not know martial arts.

Could it be that she had been mistaken? Then who, exactly, was that expert?

Although she had found no trace of that mysterious person, Zhan Xinyue made another discovery: Princess Zhaohua was not nearly as terrifying as the outside world claimed.

Stories of her flying into rages at the slightest provocation, venting her anger on palace servants, secretly setting up private torture chambers—of servants losing an arm or a leg just because of failing at a minor task.

Zhan Xinyue felt that Princess Zhaohua was merely somewhat arrogant, that she spoke harsh words often, but she had never truly tortured anyone.

It seemed that the rumors circulating outside could not be fully trusted. Presumably, because Princess Zhaohua was His Majesty’s adopted daughter and enjoyed such extraordinary favor, the other princes and princesses, driven by jealousy, had fabricated rumors to maliciously slander her.

After interacting with her personally, Zhan Xinyue felt neither aversion toward Song Zhaoyan nor any particular fondness. She only wished to carry out her duties as a study companion properly.

However, Princess Zhaohua never went to the Wenxue Hall, never studied and never read. Under such circumstances, there was little a study companion like her could do.

“Your Highness, shall we go to the Wenxue Hall today?” Zhan Xinyue asked, as she did every day.

Song Zhaoyan looked at her with extreme impatience. “If you want to go, then go by yourself. I’m not going!”

With that, she speared another piece of ice-chilled fruit and put it into her mouth.

“If you really have nothing to do, I can have someone arrange some work for you. Washing clothes or sweeping the courtyard would both be fine.”

As she spoke, there was nothing but disdain in Song Zhaoyan’s eyes.

To make the daughter of a high minister do the work of servants—if such a thing were to become known among the court officials, impeachment memorials would surely fly to the Emperor’s dragon desk like snowflakes.

“Is Pei Shen any better today? If he’s recovered, have him hurry back to serve. Don’t let him use being injured from the beating as an excuse to slack off.”

These words were directed at Xuezhi and Zhan Xinyue heard them countless times every single day.

The Ninth Prince lived in Chaoyang Palace, yet Zhan Xinyue had never seen him. Only then did she learn that the Ninth Prince had been punished.

What happened after they left the palace that day was something they actually knew nothing about.

But since the Ninth Prince had received punishment, and no one had come to question Zhan Xinyue, she guessed that perhaps the Ninth Prince had taken something upon himself.

Thinking of this, Zhan Xinyue felt a measure of gratitude toward the Ninth Prince and wondered whether she ought to go see him.

“Princess, why don’t you allow this subject’s daughter to go and check on the Ninth Prince’s injuries?”

Song Zhaoyan silently glanced at Zhan Xinyue. Zhan Xinyue’s expression was open and composed, her gaze steady, without the slightest hint of avoidance.

They had only met once, exchanged a few words, and now she was already worrying about him? Already wanting to see him a second time? The development of feelings between the male and female leads was moving far too fast—there wasn’t even any back-and-forth tension.

Still, Song Zhaoyan did not refuse. After all, she was merely the vicious supporting female character. Sooner or later, the male and female leads were bound to end up together, and her own character setting was that she admired Pei Chengyun. Why would she stop Zhan Xinyue from going to see Pei Shen?

“Go, then. Take a good look for me—see whether he truly hasn’t recovered yet or if he’s just pretending to be ill so he doesn’t have to come back and serve this palace.”

Zhan Xinyue bowed in acknowledgment and withdrew, heading for Qiuqian Residence.

When the young eunuch came each day to apply medicine to Pei Shen, they would occasionally exchange a few words. In the past, they would never have dared to do so. But for some reason, the servants of Chaoyang Palace all felt that Princess Zhaohua was no longer as cruel as before. Only then did they dare to privately discuss the current state of Chaoyang Palace. Because of this, Pei Shen also learned that Song Zhaoyan now had a study companion.

When Pei Shen saw that study companion, he froze for a moment, then quickly regained his composure.

It was Zhan Xinyue.

Although they had met once before and exchanged a few words, they were not close. Now that they were facing each other again, there was no unnecessary chatter. After the proper formal greetings, Zhan Xinyue bowed to Pei Shen in thanks.

“At the banquet that day, no one knew that I had gone to Qingfeng Pavilion. I assume it was the Ninth Prince who concealed this for me, sparing me a great deal of trouble afterward. This subject’s daughter is here to thank the Ninth Prince.”

It was the first time Pei Shen had ever been thanked like this. He looked at Zhan Xinyue in slight astonishment, a faint smile surfacing on his face. “It was nothing important. You needn’t take it to heart.”

“Your Highness was flogged because of it. How could that possibly be nothing? If it were mentioned that I had also gone to Qingfeng Pavilion, given the circumstances at the time, I might not have escaped involvement either. This gratitude is something I must express.”

As she spoke, Zhan Xinyue took out the medicine she had prepared in advance and placed it on the table.

“My father has spent many years campaigning along the borders and has inevitably suffered injuries. This is the finest wound medicine used in the army. Of course, the medicines in the palace are also excellent. I have no other suitable gift, so this is all I can offer the Ninth Prince.”

Pei Shen looked at the medicine on the table. He did not refuse Zhan Xinyue’s goodwill.

“Thank you.”

“If there is nothing else, this subject’s daughter will take her leave. Your Highness should rest well.”

Pei Shen nodded, bringing this exchange to an end.

Gazing at the small porcelain bottle on the table and thinking that his wounds had almost healed, Pei Shen decided to keep it. Who knew when he might be injured again someday or whether he would have such good fortune to be treated then?

He looked toward Zhan Xinyue again, only to see her retreating figure.

And that figure faintly overlapped with a certain image in his mind.

“You—”

Pei Shen tried to speak, but Zhan Xinyue had already stepped out of the courtyard.

He hurriedly got to his feet, wanting to chase after her, but with his limited mobility, moving quickly tugged painfully at his wounds. In the end, he could only brace himself against the door, staring at the now-empty courtyard.

That figure…

Pei Shen remembered the night he had been flogged. He had woken up in a daze once and vaguely sensed someone feeding him water. He had tried to open his eyes to look, but by the time he did, that person was already gone.

The night was deep, yet the moonlight was bright. In the courtyard, beneath the moon, he had faintly seen a slender figure walking away. There was no one attending him in Qiuqian Residence, so it could not have been a servant.

At first, Pei Shen had only thought it was a dream—a dream born of grievance and loneliness when he longed for someone to rely on.

Yet at this moment, seeing Zhan Xinyue’s retreating figure once again brought to mind the silhouette he had seen that night.

Perhaps—it had not been a dream after all. Perhaps the figure from that night really had been Zhan Xinyue. She had become Song Zhaoyan’s study companion and moved into Chaoyang Palace.

She had practiced martial arts since childhood and possessed formidable skills. The distance from the main hall of Chaoyang Palace to Qiuqian Residence was not far at all, and avoiding the palace patrols to come see him would have been effortless for her.

But then why had Zhan Xinyue not said anything about it today?

Pei Shen thought that perhaps she was afraid there were ears listening beyond the walls. If that snake-hearted woman Song Zhaoyan were to find out, who knew what she might do? She took pleasure in hurting others most of all.

Or perhaps she did not want him to think she was seeking repayment for a favor. More likely, she simply wanted to thank him for not revealing that she had gone to Qingfeng Pavilion, to repay his kindness and nothing more.

Whatever the reason, Pei Shen felt a faint sense of exhilaration rise in his heart.

Why? Naturally, because the person who had helped him was someone else—not Song Zhaoyan. At last, he no longer needed to agonize, no longer needed to question himself again and again about whether Song Zhaoyan had shown him even the slightest exception, whether she had ever intended to plead on his behalf.

At this moment, Pei Shen felt an immense sense of release, as if a massive stone that had long been weighing on his chest had finally been lifted away, allowing him to breathe freely at last.

Song Zhaoyan was a woman with a heart as venomous as a serpent—of that there was no doubt. Toward him, there had only ever been torment and humiliation. How could she possibly have shown mercy?

And he would not debase himself by searching for any so-called proof that he might be an exception.

Because the one who had helped him was not Song Zhaoyan—

It was Zhan Xinyue.