The Vicious Woman and the White Moonlight are both me - Chapter 6

“Fifth Brother, there’s something I don’t quite understand. Could you please explain it to me?”

 

Song Zhaoyan’s voice softened as she spoke—gone was her usual arrogance and overbearing tone. Instead, she sounded almost shy, like a bashful young girl.

 

As she finished, she placed the book she was holding onto the desk and looked up at Pei Chengyun with tender eyes, even leaning in a little closer to him on purpose.

 

Unfortunately for her, Pei Chengyun immediately leaned back, widening the distance between them before replying seriously, “Princess Zhaohua, you should ask the tutor instead. After all, his knowledge surpasses mine, and he’ll be able to explain it more clearly.”

 

With that, Pei Chengyun stood and walked straight out of the room.

 

“Hey—hey, you—!”

 

Song Zhaoyan stared after him, frustration flashing in her eyes, but there was nothing she could do.

 

Meanwhile, the princes and princesses who had left earlier hadn’t actually gone far. They were lingering just outside and happened to catch the scene of her being snubbed.

 

Even if they weren’t the ones humiliating her directly, seeing Song Zhaoyan suffer brought them no small amount of satisfaction.

 

When they saw her deflated expression, several of them couldn’t resist covering their mouths, their eyes full of poorly hidden amusement.

 

Being coldly rejected by Pei Chengyun was one thing—but to be laughed at by the others on top of that made Song Zhaoyan’s bl00d boil.

 

Her earlier gentleness vanished in an instant. She shot to her feet, her voice sharp and furious as she shouted, “Are you laughing at me?! Do you believe I won’t go to the Emperor right now and have every one of you punished for your insolence?”

 

At her words, everyone outside froze. None dared to speak. They could only exchange wary glances before quickly dispersing, not daring to stay another second.

 

The others had all dispersed, but there was still one person left inside.

 

That was Pei Shen, who, because of his injuries, moved slower than the rest.

 

He sat alone in the farthest corner—isolated, forgotten—and the instant he felt Song Zhaoyan’s gaze fall upon him, his entire body tensed.

 

Humiliated by Pei Chengyun and mocked by the others, Song Zhaoyan’s anger was still burning hot. Gathering those people back to vent on them would take too long—yet right before her stood the perfect outlet for her rage.

 

Pei Shen’s hands clenched the book so tightly that the pages were wrinkled. His eyes were fixed on it, unblinking, though he could clearly see from the corner of his vision that Song Zhaoyan was walking toward him.

“Did you just laugh at me too?”

 

Her voice was cold, sharp as a blade cutting through the silence.

 

Knowing there was no escape, Pei Shen slowly lifted his head. His eyes were calm—neither humble nor defiant—as he spoke evenly, “Princess Zhaohua misunderstands. Pei Shen did not laugh at you.”

 

“If you didn’t, then why didn’t you leave with the others? You stayed here on purpose, didn’t you? Waiting to see me make a fool of myself?”

 

Song Zhaoyan, of course, had no interest in reason. To her, it had to be his fault.

 

After yesterday’s false accusation and what he already knew of her temperament, Pei Shen understood well explaining himself would only make things worse.

 

Even the other princes and princesses, who had their mothers’ protection, stayed far away from her. As for him, an unfavored prince with no one to rely on…

 

He could only grit his teeth and bow his head in apology.

 

“It was Pei Shen’s fault. Please forgive me, Princess Zhaohua, ”

 

Song Zhaoyan snapped, anger warring with a forced smile, “If you admit your guilt, then you must be punished!”

 

No sooner had she spoken than her expression shifted.

 

“What? Hit him with a book?”

 

Confirming she hadn’t misheard the system, Song Zhaoyan steeled herself, yanked the book from Pei Shen’s hands, and swung it at him with all her force.

 

Pei Shen didn’t dare dodge. He heard the pages tear as the book was flung; a gust of air brushed his ear, and the volume thudded down behind him.

 

Luckily for him, her throw was off target.

 

“Wasn’t yesterday’s lesson not enough? How dare you mock me in public today!”

 

Pei Shen pressed his lips together and kept silent.

 

“Why so quiet?” Song Zhaoyan raised an eyebrow. “What does your silence mean? Do you think I’ve wrongly accused you?”

 

“Pei Shen dares not,” he whispered.

 

“Dares not? I think you’re very brave indeed,” she snapped.

 

Her gaze dropped to the inkstone on the desk; her face darkened at once.

 

“System, are you serious—do you want me to smash Pei Shen with the inkstone?”

 

[“Please complete the task as soon as possible.”]

 

But if she really threw it, no matter where it landed, Pei Shen would get hurt.

 

Still, the system’s control over her left her no choice.

 

After a moment of silence, Song Zhaoyan reached out and picked up the inkstone.

 

Seeing the inkstone in her hand, Pei Shen couldn’t help the flicker of panic in his chest.

 

He lifted his gaze to look at her again, and that moment of fear seemed to amuse Song Zhaoyan.

 

“Heh… finally scared, are you?”

 

The next instant, the inkstone flipped, and black ink splashed down his face, dripping along his cheeks and staining his white robe. His once-clean features were now smeared with ink, yet Pei Shen sat there like a wooden statue, unmoving.

 

Some of the eunuchs and palace maids nearby couldn’t bear to watch. Their eyes showed pity, but there was nothing they could do. They turned their faces away, pretending not to see them.

 

Of course, where there were the soft-hearted, there were also the sycophants—those eager to curry favor with the princess. They sneered and whispered mockingly, delighted to see Pei Shen’s humiliated state.

 

Watching Pei Shen become the butt of their laughter, Song Zhaoyan’s mood lifted.

 

“Hahaha—dare to laugh at me, will you? Then let’s see how you like being laughed at!”

 

She released her grip—

 

“Clack!”

 

The heavy inkstone fell, striking Pei Shen squarely in the chest.

 

Days in the palace had always been hard, but Pei Shen thought bitterly—now, they were harder than ever.

 

In her ears echoed Song Zhaoyan’s grating laughter, while around her came a chorus of flattering chuckles and sycophantic smiles.

 

And there he was—Pei Shen reduced to nothing more than a clown for everyone’s amusement.

 

“Song Zhaoyan, what are you doing?”

 

The sudden voice cut through the noise. Hearing someone call her name so directly, Song Zhaoyan’s expression darkened as she snapped, “Who dares to address this Princess by name?”

 

She turned—and froze.

 

Standing behind her was Pei Chengyun, the Fifth Prince, who had apparently turned back halfway.

 

In an instant, Song Zhaoyan’s anger melted into sweetness. Her voice softened, her tone almost coquettish.

 

“Fifth Brother, why are you here?”

 

“If I hadn’t come,” Pei Chengyun said coldly, “I wouldn’t have known you were bullying someone again.”

 

As he spoke, his gaze fell on Pei Shen. “What happened here?”

 

Pei Shen pressed his lips together and said nothing.

 

Song Zhaoyan, however, immediately launched her defense. “It’s nothing! I just wanted to ask Fifth Brother a question, but since you didn’t answer me, I had no choice but to ask Ninth Brother instead. Who could’ve guessed that he’d be so clumsy and knock over the ink himself? Just look at him—doesn’t he look funny?”

 

The original Song Zhaoyan’s personality was twisted beyond reason, impossible to measure by any normal logic.

 

Now, she deliberately let out a peal of laughter, bright and airy, trying to coax Pei Chengyun into joining her amusement.

 

But instead, Pei Chengyun merely gave a cold snort—clearly not believing a word she said.

 

Still, he didn’t step forward to defend Pei Shen either.

 

In his eyes, this matter wasn’t worth more than a rebuke; at most, Song Zhaoyan owed an apology.

 

Pei Chengyun looked at Pei Shen for a moment, then said, “Go wash up and change into clean clothes.”

 

Without Song Zhaoyan’s instruction, Pei Shen wouldn’t have dared to move. But now that Pei Chengyun had spoken, Song Zhaoyan—who adored him—wouldn’t contradict him in front of others.

 

“Right, right,” she chimed in. “Go change. You must be uncomfortable covered in ink like that.”

 

Hearing the ringleader say it so easily, Pei Shen had no choice but to rise and leave.

 

He could feel the eyes around him struggling to hide their amusement at his dirty face. The ache across his back from yesterday’s beating throbbed, but nothing hurt more than the humiliation twisting in his chest.

 

Why? He and Song Zhaoyan had no quarrel—what right did she have to treat him this way?

 

He swore, cold and furious in his heart, that one day he would kill Song Zhaoyan—make her suffer a slow, brutal death.

 

Pei Chengyun, having turned back and played the decent figure, felt Song Zhaoyan move closer again.

 

He didn’t like her, but he understood her strategy well: she was throwing herself at him to win the Emperor’s favor.

 

He wasn’t interested in flattering her blindly—many princes and princesses already kowtowed to her out of fear or calculation, and such groveling only made her despise them more.

 

So, Pei Chengyun took a different approach: a careful game of give-and-take—playing aloof to entice her but ready to step in and restrain her when necessary.

 

“Zhaoyan-meimei, although others say you’re arrogant and domineering, looking down on everyone, I know you’re just a bit childish and willful. Still, sometimes, it’s best to restrain yourself a little. Even if Father favors you, Ninth Brother is still a prince. Acting like this will only make the palace servants look down on him.”

 

The original Song Zhaoyan had always been overbearing toward others, but when it came to Pei Chengyun, she did rein herself somewhat. So, it was no wonder he thought she wasn’t truly bad at heart—it made sense from his perspective.

 

Why bother correcting her faults when they didn’t harm him anyway?

 

Still, he knew how to say the right things to keep peace.

 

Song Zhaoyan looked at Pei Chengyun with a face full of gratitude. “Fifth Brother, you really understand me. Everyone else just misunderstands! They say I target them, but clearly, they’re just jealous of Father’s affection for me—they’re the ones picking fights, and I’m merely defending myself.”

 

Pei Chengyun hadn’t expected her to say something so shameless so openly, but he couldn’t be bothered to argue or lecture her further. Instead, he shifted the topic. “Class will start again soon. There’s still a bit of time—get some rest before then.”

 

With that, he turned and left the room once more.

 

This time, Song Zhaoyan hurried after him.

 

“Wait—Fifth Brother, wait for me! Let’s go together!”

 

Pei Chengyun had no desire to be entangled with her, so he quickened his pace and soon left her behind.

 

Watching his figure disappear down the corridor, Song Zhaoyan called out a few more times, her voice growing more anxious—but her steps gradually slowed.

 

After all, with Pei Shen gone from the study, what reason did she have to stay there any longer?

 

As for the next lesson—of course she wouldn’t go back.

 

The palace staff kept their distance, bowing to her from afar; once she left, they hurried away as if she were a tiger.

 

After winding through corridor after corridor, Song Zhaoyan found herself lost and had no choice but to call on the system for help.

 

Before she could speak, mocking laughter, insults, and the sounds of blows reached her from nearby.

 

“You are a filthy wretch! You deserve to be bullied by Princess Zhaohua. Curious why she singled you out? I’ll tell you—because your mother is lowborn. She fancied herself a replacement for Zhaohua’s mother, got herself close to His Majesty while he was drunk, thought she’d rise up, and instead was banished to the imperial tomb. Ha—”

 

Hearing those words, Song Zhaoyan realized the one being beaten was Pei Shen. The three people beating him were familiar faces—other princes and princesses she’d seen before.

 

Song Zhaoyan had known the original heroine targeted Pei Shen, but she hadn’t known why. Now she understood they believed Pei Shen’s mother was base, that she’d dared to set herself up in place of Zhaohua’s mother. So, Pei Shen deserved their scorn.

 

But she was no longer the original Song Zhaoyan—her actions toward Pei Shen were constrained by something else now. And because the system had given her a task, she intended to minimize the harm as much as she could.

 

Still, the way these people kicked and beat Pei Shen was brutal. His back, already raw from yesterday, was beginning to show faint bl00d seeping through.

 

Seeing this, Song Zhaoyan finally couldn’t stand it and shouted in a sharp voice, “What do you think you’re doing?”