Page 16 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

“You change there,” he pointed to an area covered by trees and shrubs. “I’ll be over the other side.”

She moved to her side of the clearing, hidden by the thick foliage. Her fingers fumbled with peeling off the soaked layers. The inner robes clung stubbornly, cold and uncomfortable.

This was acceptable. Perfectly proper. They were separated by enough distance and vegetation. A model of scholarly research recovery.

She had just stripped down to her thinnest underlayer, reaching for the dry robe, when she saw it.

Coiled near the basket. Green patterned. Small head raised. Staring straight at her.

A snake.

SNAKE.

She didn’t think. Didn’t grab her clothes.

She ran.

She crashed into Ting-zhi at full speed and launched herself at him like he was the only safe place in the world. Arms around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist, face buried against his shoulder, clinging tighter than a vine around a tree.

He staggered, catching her instinctively. “Si-er? What—”

“SNAKE!” The word came out muffled and panicked against his bare skin. “Snake snake snake!”

“Where?”

“By the basket. Green. Don’t let go of me!”

He didn’t point out that she was the one holding onto him. Instead, he grabbed the long branch he’d been using to hang wet clothes.

“I’ll go and catch it,” he said, voice strained. “Stay here.”

Here? No, she wasn’t goinganywherewhere she needed to touch the ground. She wrapped her legs even tighter around his waist and buried her head in his chest, refusing to budge.

He winced but moved carefully to the area where she had been, sweeping the branch through the grass as he went. There was no snake in the basket, but he checked the surroundingshrubbery as well. Anything to avoid thinking about the fact that Shen Yun-si was wrapped around him, in only a thin wet innermost robe, pressed against his bare chest, her thighs—

He jabbed at a suspicious-looking rock with the branch.

Just a rock.

He checked behind the willow tree. Nothing.

Under the basket. Empty.

“All safe,” he managed.

She didn’t move.

“Si-er. It’s gone. You can—”

“Are you sure?” Her grip tightened. “What if there are more? What if it comes back?”

“It won’t come back. They avoid humans. It’s—” He stopped. Tried to breathe normally. Failed. “You can get down now.”

“Fine.” But she didn’t move immediately. “Just. Don’t poke me with your branch again while I’m climbing down.”

He looked at the branch in his hand in confusion.

Then realization hit.