Chapter Fifty-Three: The Hairpin Is for You

After leaving the palace, Chen Yi walked home with ease, as if the path were familiar. Yin Tingxue was nearly recovered; she no longer appeared so sickly. After dinner, Chen Yi called her over to make tea. Her technique was simple but practiced—though the tea was not exceptional, it was far from bad.

Watching Yin Tingxue obediently serve him tea and water stirred gentle ripples in Chen Yi’s heart.

“Come here,” he said directly.

Hearing this, Yin Tingxue turned quietly and tiptoed to his side.

Chen Yi took the cup from her hands and sipped lightly.

Though still a noblewoman of the Xiang Kingdom, and unaccustomed to serving others, she knew how to brew tea. The flavor was ordinary but acceptable.

“Is it good?” he asked.

“It’s alright,” she replied.

Chen Yi set down the cup and kissed her forehead.

Over these many days, Yin Tingxue had grown used to his light, teasing touches. At first, she resisted strongly, but after his stern reprimands, she ceased struggling, resigned to the futility. She had accepted these small daily humiliations as part of her fate.

Chen Yi gazed at her silently for a long while.

Raising her head, Yin Tingxue asked, “Is something wrong? May I… go back now?”

Chen Yi recalled his earlier desire to compensate her, to buy some of her favorite foods or perhaps some jewelry, hoping she might then think kindly of him.

“What do you want?” he asked softly.

Yin Tingxue hesitated briefly, then, encouraged by the gentleness in his tone, she saw this as an opportunity not to be missed. She lifted her face and whispered, “I want to return to Yintai Temple… to spend the winter there, just for a while.”

Chen Yi glanced at her.

She misunderstood his look and hurried to explain, “It’s not that I want to run away—I won’t run anymore. I just want to go back and see it, recite sutras, pray to the Bodhisattvas, and bless you too… isn’t that right? Besides, with you watching over me, I can’t run away.”

“I can’t run away…”

Those words stirred complicated thoughts in Chen Yi as he stroked a strand of her hair.

“All right,” he said.

Hearing his prompt agreement, Yin Tingxue relaxed slightly. She was always nervous around him.

“Not just for winter. We’ll go during the Great Cold too. We’ll make some dumplings and cook them at the temple. After you finish your prayers, we can eat together. Then, when the Lantern Festival comes, I’ll take you back again. We’ll find a high place to watch the fireworks, and you can show me around the manor properly,” Chen Yi said softly.

After the confiscation, the Xiang Prince’s mansion lay abandoned, likely to be awarded by the Empress Dowager to a deserving courtier. During this interval, he could take the little fox back a few times—she missed Yintai Temple dearly.

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“Is it really that good…” Yin Tingxue was astonished. She hadn’t expected Chen Yi to be so kind. A small smile curved her lips, and she leaned in obediently.

“Mm, I know you miss home,” Chen Yi murmured, holding her close and pondering. He had once planned to give her a harsh lesson, but his feelings had changed. Min Ning’s words—“Your conscience is not dead”—lingered in his mind. He did not want to frighten her so terribly. It was better to prepare her mentally.

Even though this preparation was cruel for such a young girl.

That night, Yin Tingxue washed first, perhaps feeling good, and finished quickly, soon lying down. Chen Yi followed suit and climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She nestled into him obediently.

Such submission had become a habit he had imposed upon her.

“Little fox…” Chen Yi hesitated, then spoke.

“Hmm?” Yin Tingxue was puzzled.

“The hairpin is for you.”

At his words, Chen Yi felt her pause, then a slight tremble.

“…Wh-why would you buy me a hairpin? I’m not even twenty yet…”

Her voice quivered as she feigned ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb—I know… you’re clever,” Chen Yi teased, kissing the nape of her neck.

“I have to satisfy myself somehow.”

Yin Tingxue stiffened. Though her back was to him, Chen Yi could imagine her cheeks flushing.

“You… you could go to the brothel,” she whispered anxiously.

“Master… is it okay to go to the brothel? I won’t betray you.”

Chen Yi laughed. “Why would I look for other women when I have a concubine at home?”

“Well then…” she asked cautiously, “will you take more concubines?”

Chen Yi rested his chin on the back of her head, narrowing his eyes.

“They’re not royal blood; it doesn’t seem meaningful.”

The girl, who always burrowed inward while sleeping, shivered—her heart skipped a beat.

---

Chen Yi gently tapped her hip with a steady rhythm—part patting, part caressing.

Goosebumps rose on Yin Tingxue’s skin as memories of his time with Min Ning flickered before her eyes. Slowly, she regained some composure, though a trace of fear lingered.

“You’ll sleep with me sooner or later.”

Chen Yi was preparing her mentally.

“No way—you don’t like women, right? Sleeping with me would just disgust you.”

Then, she thought of something and whispered, “I won’t run away anymore. There’s no need to torment me like this.”

Chen Yi understood her thoughts and smiled.

“Who said I don’t like women?”

Yin Tingxue was stunned.

“Min Ning was actually a woman,” Chen Yi said lightly, his brief statement like a eulogy.

The shock struck Yin Tingxue like thunder, her face pale with terror.

Chen Yi saw her fragile back trembling, his own emotions tangled.

He had forced her into concubinage; she mistakenly thought he was fond of men, her hopeful expression igniting a desire in him to give her a harsh awakening. The more resolute she was, the more he wanted to compel her. Yet, the weaker she appeared, the more he wished to cherish her. Perhaps he should have ignored the vengeful Yin-Yang technique and claimed her earlier—there had been two chances: once while at the Xiang Prince’s mansion, and again after she fled. But he had missed them both. Had he taken her then, he wouldn’t be overthinking now.

Chen Yi held Yin Tingxue close, listening to her panicked breaths, sensing her utter despair.

She was terrified, uncertain of what she might do next. She had fled once before—would she try again? More than fearing her escape, Chen Yi secretly wished she would run again or perhaps stab him with a needle or knife. Then he would have a reason to possess her fully.

As these thoughts raced, he stroked her silky hair, his voice cold and low:

“This is inevitable, do you understand?”

Yin Tingxue’s face turned ashen. Held in his arms, unable to struggle, she trembled, her breathing quickening, emitting soft, sorrowful sobs.

Yet, she neither pushed him away nor cursed his shamelessness, nor did she seek a weapon to harm him.

Instead, she turned and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Please don’t do this, okay?”

Her voice was plaintive and soft, her eyes filled with helplessness.

Chen Yi’s heart tightened. He did not reply immediately. After a long moment, he spoke gently:

“Go to sleep now.”