How Could I Resist His Madness and Charm [Transmigration] - Chapter 23

Zhu Yun pestered her relentlessly about Long Aotian’s origins, forcing Luo Yan to claim he was just a character from a storybook. Unexpectedly, Zhu Yun looked shocked and said, “But you’ve always preferred gentle, scholarly types.”

“That’s ancient history,” Luo Yan replied dismissively.

“…” After a moment of silent processing, Zhu Yun casually remarked, “Then lend me that Long Aotian storybook later.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying the young man’s expression as a suspicion dawned on her. Smiling, she said, “A-Yun, don’t tell me you’re jealous of a fictional character?”

“Absolutely not,” Zhu Yun denied flatly. He was merely learning from it to make her happy.

Amidst their banter, her anger had mostly dissipated. Luo Yan hummed a cheerful tune on his back, letting the early winter breeze brush against her cheeks.

At the foot of the mountain, a dark-skinned, shirtless man had been waiting for some time, holding the reins of two fine horses.

She glanced at Zhu Yun in surprise. He smirked and explained, “I had someone specially purchase them from Long County earlier. They’re said to be the gentlest-tempered horses.”

She recognized the brown one, Zhu Yun often rode it to take her to town. Since keeping it in the village would be troublesome, they boarded it with a farmer and settled the expenses monthly.

Upon seeing Zhu Yun, the brown horse broke free from its reins and trotted over. The white horse followed closely behind. It was noticeably smaller, with a glossy coat that instantly won Luo Yan’s heart.

The man was the farmer’s eldest son. He gave them an awkward bow, put on his straw rain hat, and headed home.

Luo Yan eagerly stroked the white horse, bonding with it, and casually asked, “Long County is quite far from here. If you bought it long ago, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why should I tell you?” he replied, as if puzzled. “The brown horse is enough for the two of us.”

Too excited to argue, she suggested, “Let’s give them names.”

At this, Zhu Yun’s lips twitched slightly. He thought to himself that if she named them, they’d end up as “Fourth Sister” and “Fifth Sister” or “Little White” and “Little Brown.”

But instead, Luo Yan declared, “The white horse will be called Cloud Slice Cake, and the brown one Tiramisu.”

“What kind of crisp?”

“Ti-ra-mi-su,” she enunciated slowly, taking Zhu Yun’s hand and tracing the characters on his palm. “It’s a dessert from my hometown. If you think it’s too long, you can call it Susu.”

Zhu Yun agreed outwardly but resolved never to call it that in front of others.

“Cloud Slice Cake, from now on, I’m your owner,” Luo Yan announced before turning to urge him, “You should call Susu too. It likes you so much.”

“…”

He helped Luo Yan onto the horse and said, “Let’s go.”

Even though they had two horses, they still rode together. Luo Yan tilted her head back in confusion, only seeing the sharp line of the young man’s jaw.

In truth, having traveled back and forth between the village and town with Zhu Yun many times, she was no stranger to horseback riding. But Zhu Yun must have his reasons, perhaps for safety?

Luo Yan convinced herself and was about to lean against him for a nap as usual when a sudden thought crossed her mind: “As fast as your heartbeat.”

Immediately, her heart seemed eager to respond, its rhythm quickening. Her back stiffened, and she deliberately straightened, trying to put distance between them.

But Zhu Yun wrapped an arm around her, his palm pressing against her abdomen as he pulled her closer. At the same time, his voice, somewhere between a youth’s and a man’s, whispered softly by her ear, “Are you cold?”

“Thump, thump, thump.”

Luo Yan’s heart pounded like a drum.

Especially with her back pressed tightly against Zhu Yun’s chest, even though the sound of hoofbeats and the wind could mask it somewhat, the trembling of their bodies was transmitted directly to each other.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze falling on the girl’s flushed earlobes. After a few moments, it suddenly dawned on him:

Yanyan is blushing again. Yanyan must truly adore me.

Soon, the vibrations from his laughter intertwined with the rhythm of her heartbeat. Luo Yan’s posture grew increasingly rigid, and she finally covered her ears in exasperation: “You’re so annoying.”

“Say a few more insults.”

“…”

Fortunately, a large open field was now in sight. Luo Yan decided not to argue with him and said seriously, “I know the basics. Let me try riding on my own for a bit.”

Zhu Yun didn’t respond. After helping her onto the white horse, he still refused to let go of the reins, his tone firm: “I’ll lead you.”

Luo Yan assumed it was to familiarize her with the terrain and obediently nodded. But after one lap after another, there was no sign of him letting her practice on her own.

It reminded Luo Yan of when her grandfather taught her to ride a bicycle in her previous life. He, too, had walked her around in circles, unwilling to let go of the back seat, as if afraid his granddaughter would shatter like glass.

But her grandfather was her grandfather, and Zhu Yun was just a sixteen-year-old boy.

She struggled to hold back her laughter and reached out to pat the top of his head.

Zhu Yun: “?”

Luo Yan blinked innocently: “It’s just… this is the first time I’ve seen you from this angle. It feels novel.”

He had grown taller now, not only in height but also with a lean, athletic build. Just standing beside her gave Luo Yan an immense sense of security.

And usually, it was always her looking up at Zhu Yun. Now, with their positions reversed…

Thinking this, she hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his face upward.

Zhu Yun nearly stumbled on flat ground.

Well, the stones and branches had already been cleared away. He whistled, riding Tiramisu to keep pace with her: “From now on, I’ll follow you.”

With his permission, Luo Yan tightened her legs against the horse’s sides and dashed off without a hint of hesitation. Her clear, melodious laughter scattered on the cold wind.

He silently curved his lips into a smile, maintaining a distance of about ten feet.

When she finally grew tired and looked back, she waved at Zhu Yun: “When can I ride on the main road?”

“Not today.”

“Why?” Luo Yan looked at him with a pitiful expression. “I’m not afraid of the cold, and I’m not afraid of pain.”

Zhu Yun sneered: “No means no.”

She eyed him suspiciously: “Is it because I’ve been too focused on riding and neglected you?”

“…” Zhu Yun deliberately turned his face away, his tone calm. “It’s getting late. Didn’t you say you wanted to pick a basket of flowers for Grandmother?”

“Oh.”

On the way back.

He coaxed Luo Yan to come closer. As soon as she fell for it, he openly lifted her from Cloud Slice Cake’s back.

Luo Yan, still startled, found herself in a familiar embrace, broad and solid, carrying the same refreshing scent as hers. In a flash of insight, several things connected in her mind. She said, “So this is why you never let me practice on my own.”

“Yes,” Zhu Yun replied with a gentle smile. “So what?”

She choked back a retort, tilting her head to glare at him. Zhu Yun obligingly lowered his head, allowing her to see the possessiveness in his eyes.

Some people were naturally thick-skinned. Unbothered by the awkward posture, he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, and said cheerfully, “For the two of us, one horse is enough, isn’t it?”

At first, it sounded like a suggestion, but upon closer thought, it felt more like a threat.

But A-Yun wasn’t that kind of person.

Luo Yan felt ashamed for misunderstanding him and softened her tone. “The reason I insisted on learning to ride was so I could travel beyond Linchuan with you. Perhaps we could first visit Cangxi to pay respects to my family, then climb mountains, see the ocean, and admire the scenery of different places.”

“With you,” she added softly, her cheeks flushing.

Zhu Yun was stunned for a long moment, making her worry she had said something wrong. Just as she was about to look up and question him, he covered her eyes again, this time remembering to shield only her brow and eyes.

She protested indignantly, “Why won’t you let me look at you?”

Her lips were pursed, full and crimson, like the camellia petals Zhu Yun tenderly watered every day. He didn’t need to lean in to catch a faint whiff of their floral fragrance.

But he wanted to lean in.

As his warm breath brushed the tip of Luo Yan’s nose, she shrank back, tickled, and pleaded, “Let me go, my neck is getting sore.”

He snapped out of his daze, hovering dangerously close above her, before finally licking his lips with lingering regret and releasing her.

Luo Yan, still thinking of her earlier plans, asked excitedly, “A-Yun, my dream is to travel all across Great Li. What’s yours?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to know,” she declared bossily. “A dream is something you really want to do. You love reading martial arts manuals so much, don’t you want to become the greatest in the world?”

His gaze drifted over her slightly parted lips as he gave a vague response.

Unaware of his distraction, Luo Yan continued, “When we travel, we can uphold justice and become a mysterious heroic couple. When we grow old, we can return to town and open a martial arts school.”

The words “heroic couple” snapped Zhu Yun out of his wandering thoughts. He forcibly shifted his gaze from her red lips to her eyes.

She felt her ears burn under his stare but refused to back down, feigning annoyance as she demanded, “What are you doing?”

As soon as she spoke, her vision darkened. Then, the boy’s gentle kiss landed on her forehead, light as a feather, soft as a breeze, lifting her soul into the air.

But Zhu Yun quickly pulled back. Sunlight returned to her eyes, and her weak legs regained their strength.

His face was equally flushed, his handsome features tinged with a vivid charm as he said bluntly, “The things you say sound very nice.”

“And you look very nice too.”

Luo Yan felt as if her boiling blood would scald her. She leaned forward, hoping the cool breeze would soothe her embarrassment. However, the horse’s back was not spacious, and he shamelessly pressed closer, his nose affectionately nuzzling against the side of her neck.

She burst into giggles from the tickling sensation, forgetting to push him away.

Their joyful mood lasted until they returned home, where they found over a dozen maids gathered in front of their usually quiet courtyard. The maids were exquisitely dressed, adorned in red and green.

“Who are you?” Luo Yan demanded coldly.

The maids turned in unison, their eyes lighting up with admiration at the sight of the pair, especially the young man in black robes. They stole glances at him, their ears turning red.

It was Jia Yufang who, hearing her granddaughter’s voice, came out to greet them. In a hushed, hurried tone, she explained, “The Wang family has sent matchmakers again, this time with the steward of the Sheng family as a mediator.”

She then pointed at Zhu Yun and introduced him to the matchmaker and two middle-aged stewards who had followed. “My granddaughter is already betrothed.”

Although they had pretended to be a family of three to the villagers, only Jia Yufang and Jia Luoyan were registered in the household records. Outsiders from town knew even less about Zhu Yun’s identity.

Seeing how extraordinary the two looked, like celestial youths from temple murals, the matchmaker dared not play the villain who breaks up a happy couple. She could only retreat awkwardly.

Luo Yan didn’t take the matter to heart. She presented a basket of mountain flowers to Jia Yufang as if offering treasure, and the grandmother and granddaughter entered the house chatting and laughing.

Only Zhu Yun remained where he was. He noticed the two stewards leading the maids toward the western slope, while the matchmaker went alone to the south. Straining his ears, he faintly heard the sound of men’s angry voices, and more than one.

Something was wrong.

He returned to his room, fetched two bottles of medicine and a dagger, then quietly followed them.

…

Luo Yan changed into dry clothes and stepped outside, but there was no sign of Zhu Yun.

“Appearing and disappearing like a ghost,” she pouted, picking up the newly acquired slingshot. She called out to the busy figure in the eastern kitchen, “Grandmother, I’m going to Changsheng’s house.”

Jia Yufang replied, “Go and come back quickly.”

The weather was growing colder, and Qingyuan Village had become quiet. Luo Yan walked a hundred paces without seeing anyone, but then spotted Sanmei suddenly emerging from a haystack.

She ran over with a laugh, “You little rascal, no wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

However, Sanmei’s eyes were wide open, her pupils emitting an eerie green glow. Upon closer look, they resembled the digital rain from sci-fi movies.

Luo Yan nearly had a heart attack. Tentatively reaching out her hand, she said anxiously, “Don’t scare me.”

Just then, an electronic prompt tone exploded beside her ear,

“Ding, signal connected.”