Recklessly Breaking a Delicate Branch - Chapter 56

The sudden silence in the small dressing room made the sound of their breathing feel amplified. Outside, the steady rhythm of the palace maid’s footsteps stopped directly in front of their door.

“The Empress is watching the play,” a cold, sharp voice announced from just a thin wooden panel away. “She orders that those inside the chambers keep their noise to a minimum. Do not disturb the peace of the garden.”

Jiang Wanshu’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her palm was still pressed firmly against Zhou Yan’s lips, her fingers trembling slightly. She didn’t dare move, fearing that even the rustle of her silk sleeves would betray them.

Zhou Yan, however, remained unnervingly still. His eyes, dark and deep as a mountain lake at night, didn’t leave hers for a second. The heat from his breath puffed against her palm, and she felt the slight movement of his lips—he was smiling behind her hand.

Seeing his lack of fear only fueled her silent fury. She glared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of panic and warning. One more word, she thought fiercely, and I will personally see you punished.

“Understood,” another voice called out from further down the hall—likely a real troupe member in a neighboring room—saving them from having to respond. The maid’s footsteps eventually receded, returning to the Empress’s side.

As the tension outside ebbed, the atmosphere inside the cramped, dimly lit room shifted. The scent of old sandalwood and greasepaint hung in the air, but all Jiang Wanshu could smell was the faint, cold scent of snow and iron that clung to Zhou Yan.

Slowly, she began to pull her hand away, but before she could retreat, Zhou Yan reached up and caught her wrist. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was absolute.

“You’re so afraid,” he whispered, his voice a mere vibration in the dark. “Is it because of the Empress… or because you liked the ending of that play?”

Jiang Wanshu frowned, trying to wrench her arm back. “What does a play have to do with this? Zhou Yan, let go. We have to leave the moment they focus on the next act.”

“The girl in the play,” Zhou Yan continued, ignoring her plea as he stepped closer, forcing her back against a row of hanging costumes. “She chose the one who hurt her. The one who ‘came before.’ Do you think that’s a happy ending, Wanshu?”

The use of her name without her title was a bold transgression, but here, in the shadows of the Pear Garden, the hierarchy of the court felt a world away.

“It’s just a story,” she hissed, her face flushing. “And Zhou Shu’an has never hurt me. He is a gentleman, unlike someone who drags a Princess into a dark room like a bandit!”

Zhou Yan’s smile vanished. The play of light through the door cracks highlighted the sharp, dangerous edge of his jaw. “A gentleman? A gentleman who looks at you with greed he can barely hide? A gentleman who touches your arm and makes you recoil?”

He leaned in, his chest nearly brushing hers. “I may be a ‘bandit’ in your eyes, Princess, but I am the only one who sees you clearly. Not as a political piece, not as a symbol of the restoration—but as the woman who belongs in the mountains, not in this gilded cage.”

Outside, the gongs clashed, signaling the start of a high-energy martial act. The loud music provided the perfect cover.

“I belong wherever I choose,” Jiang Wanshu retorted, her voice regaining its royal steel. “And right now, I choose for you to release me. If you truly care for my safety, you will help me get out of here without my mother seeing us.”

Zhou Yan stared at her for a long beat, the intensity in his gaze enough to make her breath hitch. Finally, he let go of her wrist, but not before brushing his thumb over the spot where Zhou Shu’an had touched her earlier, as if erasing a stain.

“As you wish,” he said softly, his voice returning to that of a dutiful guard, though his eyes remained predatory. “Follow me. There’s a window in the back leading to the plum grove.”

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