Chapter 9

Si Qingyu didn’t know what to say to him. They had known each other for two years, and she knew his personality was very stubborn.

“Come in and sit down first,” Si Qingyu said, unable to persuade him. She decided to take it one step at a time.

Luo Shaoxuan nodded happily and followed Si Qingyu into the medical hall. Sitting in a chair, he looked around. Hmm, the decor was similar to the medical halls in the capital.

Si Qingyu poured him a cup of tea and sat beside him, pouring herself a cup as well. She took a sip of tea and looked at him coldly, her tone still icy: “I’ll book you a room at the inn here first, but I hope you’ll return as soon as possible.”

Luo Shaoxuan automatically ignored the last half of her sentence. His beautiful eyes sparkled like stars as he looked at Si Qingyu and asked softly, “Can I stay at your house?”

“No,” Si Qingyu replied without hesitation, her face expressionless.

Luo Shaoxuan bit his lower lip disappointedly, his face full of grievance as he looked at Si Qingyu, murmuring softly, “But I’m already yours…”

Even though he spoke softly, Si Qingyu still heard him. She said through gritted teeth, “I only did that to help you detoxify. How dare you mention it?”

“Okay, okay, I won’t mention it. I’ll listen to you,” Luo Shaoxuan said, knowing when to stop. He didn’t want to experience those days when she ignored him again. Those days were so suffocating for him.

On the street, Si Qingyu was about to send Luo Shaoxuan back to the inn before returning home.

Si Qingyu’s cold and pure lotus-like face and Luo Shaoxuan’s innate noble aura attracted many glances along the way. Their similar temperaments made them seem like a natural pair.

At this moment, Luo Shaoxuan’s lips curled into a smile under his veil, secretly delighted: They were now strolling the streets like a married couple, which had never happened before. He was so happy.

Suddenly, he gently tugged at the corner of Si Qingyu’s robe. Seeing her puzzled eyes, Luo Shaoxuan smiled sweetly at her and pulled her to a stall on the side of the street, pointing to a wooden hairpin on the stall and saying, “I like this one. Buy it for me, Qingyu.”

“…” She wanted to say, if you like it, buy it yourself. Why ask her to buy it?

But in the end, she didn’t say it. She silently paid for it and watched as he held the wooden hairpin like he had found a treasure, even rubbing his face against it.

Si Qingyu looked at him numbly, not understanding what was so special about a wooden hairpin.

But Luo Shaoxuan thought to himself: This is a gift from Qingyu. He will cherish it.

…

After Si Qingyu sent Luo Shaoxuan to the inn, she couldn’t wait to leave. She just wanted to go home and read quietly. But Luo Shaoxuan wouldn’t let her go, saying he was a little scared since he had just arrived. Si Qingyu believed him, but she still refused to stay in the room with him. She stayed outside by the window, drinking tea and chatting with him until it got dark before she left.

At night

In the inn room, Luo Shaoxuan sat at the table holding a wooden hairpin. His veil was already removed, revealing his exquisite features and picturesque face. Under his long, lowered eyelashes, his eyes were as deep and enchanting as glittering glass. He looked at the wooden hairpin obsessively, raising his hand to gently stroke it, as if treating a beloved.

Suddenly, the candlelight on the table flickered, and a dark shadow appeared in the room. Luo Shaoxuan seemed not to notice and continued to be immersed in his own world. The dark shadow knelt on the ground, his voice hoarse as if he hadn’t spoken for a long time: “Master, the head of the household already knows you left the capital.”

Luo Shaoxuan’s hazy eyes slowly glanced at the dark shadow, as if displeased that someone had disturbed him. His voice was soft but carried a hint of coldness: “Hmm, so what if they know?”

The dark shadow’s body stiffened. He bowed to Luo Shaoxuan and silently left.

Luo Shaoxuan moved his gaze back to the wooden hairpin, the coldness in his eyes disappearing. He looked at it with eyes full of tenderness, his voice like a lover’s whisper or sleep talk: “Don’t make me wait too long, Qingyu…”