Tigers Sniff the Rose - Chapter 47

Chapter 47

While Mu Wanyao went out to close the door, Yan Shang hurried to tie his sash, feeling slightly annoyed.

He had originally returned just to change his clothes and go out again that evening. Everything had been going without a hitch, but who could have expected Princess Danyang to barge in so suddenly?

She was the only one who could go wherever she pleased without even needing to knock, just walking straight in...

Just as Yan Shang was feeling annoyed, he heard footsteps—she was actually coming back. He stiffened, quickly grabbing an apricot-colored outer robe that had been tossed on the bed and draping it over himself. As he reached to pull the lapels closed, he suddenly felt that this motion was too feminine, as if he were guarding himself against her...

Yan Shang’s fingers hovered on the sash, and before he could make up his mind, Mu Wanyao had returned. Yan Shang was slightly stunned; he hadn't expected her to really come back... Under normal circumstances, shouldn't he have offered a polite remark, and she would have simply left?

Why had she returned?

Not only had she returned, but the young Princess’s dark, liquid eyes were fixed on him. Gone was the overbearing aura she had when she pushed the door open; now, her gaze held curiosity, embarrassment, teasing... and a hint of dazed innocence.

She stared at him, unblinking.

Her eyes swept from his neck downward... Yan Shang turned sideways, pulling his collar shut.

Mu Wanyao was alert now; she wasn't the silly Princess who had been sent off to close the door moments ago. Seeing him turn away to hide, a smile crept into the corners of her lips.

Her cheeks felt hot, and her heart felt inexplicably happy. She said, "What are you hiding for? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before..."

She had seen his chest.

That night, when he lay in her arms, gasping for breath as he lay dying, his face had been covered in sweat, and the moisture had trickled down his neck and into his clothes. His disheveled garments had been dampened by his sweat, and at the time, Mu Wanyao had been too terrified by how much he was perspiring to pay much mind... but now, as she thought back on it in a jumble, she felt that he actually looked better now than he did then.

The beautiful young man, wearing only a loose outer robe over his inner shirt, had slender limbs and a well-proportioned frame, standing proud and elegant like a snow crane.

His hair wasn't fully dried yet, and droplets of water were dripping down, dampening the inner garment. That snowy-white layer had become somewhat translucent...

As Mu Wanyao let her imagination run wild, Yan Shang turned his head to look at her.

His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, but his tone remained serious and puzzled: "When has Your Highness seen it?"

Mu Wanyao: "Er..."

Seeing him stare at her, and knowing how sharp he was—he might guess it if she made eye contact with him for too long—Mu Wanyao quickly shifted her gaze. She tucked her hands behind her back and scolded, "Why are you asking so much? Why don’t you just put your clothes on properly!"

She accused him first: "You are a very strange person! Why don’t you lock the door when you’re changing clothes!"

Yan Shang was exasperated: "I am in my own room, in my own home. Why would I need to lock the door when changing clothes? How was I to know someone would..."

Mu Wanyao: "What did you say?"

Yan Shang sighed: "Nothing. Could Your Highness please step out for a moment so I can get dressed?"

Mu Wanyao said: "Wouldn't stepping out make me look guilty? I’m not looking at you, so why should I be guilty? Just put your clothes on casually—why must a man be so fussy?"

Yan Shang stood stiffly, his back to her, remaining motionless for a long time. She saw him pull at his sash a couple of times, but then he seemed to hesitate again.

The apricot-colored outer robe hung on him; it was a light color that was difficult for most men to carry off well. Yet, on Yan Shang, it looked warm and elegant.

Mu Wanyao couldn't help but stare at his back, lost in thought, and bit her lip.

...Truly, he was a feast for the eyes.

Then she blushed again, feeling that she shouldn't be thinking this way. Mu Wanyao’s eyes swept across the bed, seeing other garments folded neatly, and she couldn't help but think of these clothes being held by his hands, being put on piece by piece... She heard Yan Shang whisper: "Your Highness."

Mu Wanyao replied lazily: "What is it?"

Yan Shang kept his head bowed, his voice low and warm, with a hint of pleading: "If Your Highness is unwilling to leave, could you at least go behind the screen... I really cannot undress in front of Your Highness."

Mu Wanyao said: "...You really are too annoying."

Despite saying that, Mu Wanyao still stood up and went to the other side of the screen. She was actually relieved herself; if Yan Shang hadn't asked her to leave and just let her sit there staring at him while he changed, Mu Wanyao would have felt quite embarrassed too.

She just hated showing it more than anything—

After a quarter of an hour of this tossing and turning, Mu Wanyao finally sat down again, able to speak to Yan Shang normally.

Yan Shang was already dressed, his long hair partially tied back with a ribbon, the rest draped over his shoulders to dry naturally. He sat on the bed, leaning against the bedpost and curtains, maintaining a distance from Mu Wanyao, who sat on the couch diagonally opposite him.

The two of them sat there awkwardly.

Silent.

After a long while, Yan Shang finally cleared his throat, breaking the strange atmosphere: "What did Your Highness want to find me for? I have an appointment to go out tonight, and it would be inappropriate to break my word."

Mu Wanyao said: "I thought as much."

He had specifically returned to bathe and change, so he was obviously going out.

Mu Wanyao looked up at him, fixing her gaze on his face. Although he kept his eyes lowered and half of his features were cast in shadow... looking at his face was better than looking at other parts of his body and letting her imagination run wild.

Mu Wanyao said: "I know about you sending people to Wuman for half a year to gather intelligence."

Yan Shang remained silent.

Mu Wanyao forced her tone to be cold, trying not to be affected by the scene she had witnessed earlier: "Why are you gathering intelligence? Is this any of your business? Yan Er, what exactly are you trying to do?"

Yan Shang lifted his face slightly.

His gaze still didn't meet hers, but he retorted: "Can’t Your Highness guess?"

Mu Wanyao’s expression was blank: "You have more schemes than a hornet's nest; who knows what you mean. Maybe you intend to use my past against me because you think I’m too harsh on you, and you want to rebel."

Yan Shang finally couldn't help but lift his eyes to look at her. Since she had clearly guessed it and was saying this on purpose, Yan Shang had no choice but to explain himself: "The most troublesome matter concerning Your Highness is your past with Wuman. Since I told you that I would be your house retainer and help you, I naturally had to find a way to solve your greatest difficulty.

"I naturally had no lead. It is precisely because I had no lead that I needed people to go to Wuman—to let me understand the five tribes of the Southern Barbarians and the relationship between Wuman and the Southern Barbarians... Only by knowing these things will we not be caught off guard or know where to start if something happens in the future."

Mu Wanyao did not speak.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, her hands gripping the wooden table.

Actually, she had guessed as much.

Because Yan Shang had no reason to harm her... he would only ever be good to her.

Mu Wanyao lowered her eyes, looking a bit vacant. She whispered to herself: "If you wanted to help me solve my problems and understand Wuman, why didn't you just ask me? In all of Great Wei, is there anyone who understands Wuman better than I do?"

The two to three years of her life that were the most painful had been spent there.

If Yan Shang wanted to know, he could have just asked her; why go to the trouble of sending people to Wuman?

Yan Shang did not speak.

Mu Wanyao felt extremely humiliated in her heart, thinking he must be pitying her, which was why he wouldn't speak or answer. His thoughtfulness, at this moment, felt like a mockery! Sometimes, that gentleness was like a blade, cutting right to the bone... Mu Wanyao’s entire body, starting from her fingertips, began to tremble uncontrollably.

She suppressed her emotions, but she couldn't suppress the rasping, hostile edge in her voice.

She tried to save face for herself: "I know why you didn't ask me. You think my memory is bad; no matter what you tell me yesterday, I forget it by tomorrow. No matter what we did a moment ago, the next moment I don't take it seriously... You think my memory is bad, and even if you asked, I wouldn't remember it, so you simply chose not to ask."

Yan Shang was stunned.

Moonlight shone in from outside.

It was already dark, yet no lamps had been lit in the room. In the pitch-black darkness, clearly, no one was in the mood to light a candle.

Yan Shang leaned against the bed, looking at the Princess reclining on the couch. She sat there with slumped shoulders and lowered eyes, her fingers hidden in her sleeves, showing no trace of her thoughts.

He stared at her for a long time, and several times, he couldn't help but want to stand up and walk over to hold her. Yan Shang forcefully restrained himself, averted his gaze, and told himself he mustn't.

She was lawless and uninhibited. She was temperamental, adorable like a young girl when she acted spoiled, but cruel and sharp-tongued when she was angry. The distance between them was too vast; he clearly knew she had no heart, clearly knew what path she wanted to walk, so he could not let her be...

Yan Shang did not walk over; he only said gently: "Your Highness, do not say that. Your Highness does not have a poor memory. I have heard that Your Highness was once peerless in both talent and music; how could someone who is peerless in talent and music have a poor memory?

"It is just that Your Highness’s life before was too bitter. Your Highness did not want to remember it, so you deliberately forced yourself to forget. Your heart keeps telling itself to forget, which is why you are always unable to clearly recall many things. Those unpleasant events do not affect your life. If you do not want to remember them, if you remember them today and forget them tomorrow, what is wrong with that?

"Those things don't matter. Please rest assured, Your Highness. From the day I promised to be your retainer, the matter of Wuman was meant to be the 'letter of introduction' I give to you, to let you see my capabilities. These are things that your aides and retainers should be helping you with, so you have absolutely no need to worry about them."

Mu Wanyao suddenly lifted her eyes to look at him.

In the misty moonlight and the dark room, the two sat on opposite sides, with a distance between them that seemed as vast as the Milky Way.

As Yan Shang met Mu Wanyao’s raised eyes, he saw that her eyes were sparkling with flowing moonlight and rippling reflections.

Yan Shang said: "Your Highness, do not cry."

Mu Wanyao immediately retorted: "Which eye of yours saw me crying? Since you’ve known me, when have you ever seen me cry? Are you blind?"

Her words were still sharp, like a dagger, without mercy.

And Yan Shang, as peaceful as always, was not wounded by her hostility.

He still looked at her gently, his voice soft: "Then, Your Highness, do not be sad."

Mu Wanyao was startled.

He said: "Do not be so sad. It is nothing."

Mu Wanyao’s eyes suddenly turned red.

She kept telling herself she wouldn't cry, wouldn't shed a tear. Ever since she had suffered such grievances and humiliation, she had sworn she would never shed another drop. Yet tonight, he had said these few words, and she really couldn't stop her eyes from turning red... Mu Wanyao gritted her teeth, holding back her tears, just staring at him.

She watched him for a long time.

Suddenly, she asked: "Are you using the matter of Wuman to buy my heart, so I will depend on you?"

Yan Shang was taken aback.

Then, his face went cold, and his jaw tightened.

Even though he was always amiable, at this moment, he couldn't help but find it ridiculous.

Yan Shang said: "Does Your Highness think I have a heart of stone? That in everything I do, besides exploitation and interest, there is no other reason?"

Mu Wanyao: "I don't know. Because you are that kind of person—your heart is too divided. Who knows how lucky I am to have even a few petals of it."

Yan Shang was a bit angry. He leaned back slightly, his mouth opening to argue, but he didn't know where to begin. After all, the impression he gave in her eyes was that he was a smooth operator, that he never acted without profit, that everything he did was for some purpose...

She was really... truly...

He lowered his eyes, feeling somewhat dejected and powerless. Yan Shang said: "Your Highness can think whatever you wish to think."

Mu Wanyao smiled: "Are you angry?"

She paused: "I was only asking you. Checking to see if you were trying to win my favor. I was just confirming."

Yan Shang: "Confirming what?"

Mu Wanyao said: "If you aren't trying to win my favor on purpose, then I’ll take it that you are being good to me for no reason at all."

As she spoke, she suddenly stood up and walked toward the bed. In the peripheral vision of Yan Shang’s lowered gaze, he saw Mu Wanyao stand by his side. He thought she was going to say something, but in the next moment, she knelt on the bed, opened her arms, and hugged him.

Yan Shang was startled, leaning backward. As his back hit the bedpost, he looked up at her in surprise. She was embracing him, kneeling on the bed with her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.

Yan Shang was so stiff he didn't dare move, his voice trembling: "Your Highness..."

—She had suddenly run over to hug him; had she already grown so accustomed to embracing him?

Mu Wanyao’s voice was muffled against his chest: "I really envy Yan Xiaozhou so much."

Yan Shang was dazed: "What?"

How did his little sister get involved in this?

Mu Wanyao said: "Yan Xiaozhou has a brother like you; you plan and organize everything for her. You are naturally good to her; you don't have to be like you are with outsiders. You certainly don't treat outsiders’ hearts as well as you treat Yan Xiaozhou’s."

Yan Shang didn't know what to say.

He was being hugged by her, his expression conflicted. He knew she was miserable and needed comfort; however, being held like this... he felt a great internal struggle.

But Mu Wanyao suddenly had an inspiration. She popped her face out of his chest and whispered: "Why don't I call you 'Second Brother' too? Will you treat me as well as you treat Yan Xiaozhou, being good to me for no reason at all—how about it?"

Yan Shang was stunned, then laughed in spite of himself: "Do not joke."

She was the Emperor’s youngest daughter, imperial kin. She had her own true brothers; how could she just call someone else brother?

Mu Wanyao said: "You don't like me calling you 'Second Brother'? That’s true, there are so many people who call you 'Second Brother.' Even Wei Shu calls you 'Second Brother.' How about this, I’ll call you... 'Er-gege' (Second Big Brother), how about that?"

Yan Shang’s face flushed red, and he began to push her shoulders to get her to sit up. He could tell she wasn't so miserable anymore; she was beginning to be mischievous, beginning to let her imagination run wild.

Yan Shang repeated: "Do not joke."

Mu Wanyao ignored him. She held his neck, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered—softly, gently, as if nibbling on his earlobe: "Er-gege..."

In that instant, against his ear, she felt his ear turn completely red. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and the artery in his neck began to pulse violently. He looked at her suddenly, his gaze like lightning, with many suppressed emotions beneath the surface...

Mu Wanyao, charming and bewitching, soft and spoiled, whispered: "Er-gege!"

Her wrists were seized, and she was suddenly pushed back onto the bed. Yan Shang’s voice, tense and hovering over her, was filled with suppressed, near-collapsing emotion: "...Don't play jokes on people!”