Page 54 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

Yun-si jerked back, shoving at his chest with both hands. “Thelibrary!” Her whisper was high-pitched in panic.

He stepped away immediately, hands raised in surrender.

“My apologies,” he said, though his grinning face looked anything but sorry. “I was merely... conducting research.”

She smoothed her rumpled dress with shaking hands, unable to meet his eyes. “That was not research, that was—that was—”

“Educational?”

“Scandalous.”

“Mmm. I’m glad you liked it.”

That night, he wrote another letter, hoping his flower would not be sad anymore.

But as he dipped his brush in ink, his hand trembled.

Chapter 24

He was eight years old again.

The clan school’s courtyard was too loud, the air thick with the scent of ink and sweat. Ting-zhi leaned against the bamboo fence, watching as Shen Li and his pack of hyenas cornered a seven-year-old Yun-si near the well.

She was small, her pale pink robes always slightly askew, as if she’d been tangled in a dream and forgotten to smooth herself out. Today, her sleeves were ink-stained, her hair half-undone, and a huaben clutched to her chest like a shield.

“Ghost Girl Shen,” Shen Li sneered, snatching the book from her hands. “Only courtesans read these. Are you a courtesan?”

The other boys laughed, their voices sharp as broken pottery. Yun-si didn’t answer. She never did. She just stared at the ground, her fingers trembling, her shoulders curling inward like a leaf in the wind.

Ting-zhi’s hands flexed at his sides. This was so childish, why couldn’t his father just put him in the more senior class where Yun-shan was? They should be grouped by ability and not by age.

He’d seen this before—the way the other children mocked her for being quiet, for walking into doors, for forgetting her brushes mid-lesson. But this was the first time he’d seen her lips wobble.

Absurd. To be bullied by a distant cousin when she was a daughter of the main house.

Tears slipped down her cheek, silent and quick, before she ducked her head and tried to take her book back. He felt a strange ache in his heart, as though her tears were falling upon it, drop by drop.

Shen Li held it out of reach. “Say it,” he taunted. “Say you’re a courtesan.”

Yun-si didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, her breath coming too fast, her knuckles white around the torn edge of her sleeve.

That was enough.

Ting-zhi pushed off the fence and strolled toward the well, whistling as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He filled the water into a small bottle, then sneaked into the classroom to pour the water over the bullies’ chairs, making sure no one saw. The water soaked into the wood, darkening the grain.

He grinned, then walked out through the other door. He took a slight detour before walking to Yun-si, plucking her huaben from Shen Li’s hands on the way. “You dropped this,” he said, loud enough for the others to hear.

She flinched, her wide eyes flicking to his face. “Gu Zhi-zhi?”

“Mmm.” He tucked the book into her sleeve, then turned to the boys, his expression all innocence. “You lot. Class is starting.”

Shen Li scoffed. “Or what, beanpole?”

Ting-zhi shrugged. “Or you’ll miss the lesson.” He strolled into the classroom leisurely, taking Yun-si with him. The other children followed suit and sat down on their designated chairs.

“What the—?” Shen Li leapt up, his face twisting in horror. “I’m wet!”

The other boys followed suit, their shrieks echoing in the classroom. “My robes! They’re wet!”