Chapter 4: My Heart Delights in You, Yet You Remain Unaware

The carriage rattled along, heading toward the outskirts of the city. Han Chu and Shen Yu shared the same carriage, both silent throughout the journey.

Han Chu was mute, unable to utter a word; Shen Yu wore a stern expression, waiting for Han Chu to speak first.

What he wanted was a single word of thanks from her, to satisfy his masculine pride. Perhaps, if he allowed himself a touch more greed, he wished to hear her say she would follow him from this day forth.

But for the entire trip, her lips never parted for even a single syllable.

By the time the carriage stopped before his private residence, Shen Yu’s face was already clouded with displeasure. He was first to disembark, sweeping his sleeve in irritation.

Han Chu followed closely behind. Looking up at the manor, she saw above the vermillion-lacquered gates three grand characters written in bold, flowing calligraphy: “Rainbow’s Pursuit Garden.” She mouthed the words silently, thinking the plaque was imbued with poetic meaning.

She trailed Shen Yu through the main entrance but saw no steward come to greet them. The garden was empty of servants, the view ahead wide and open.

Before her lay a rockery—though called an artificial hill, it was no less than a small knoll in the suburbs, with deep caves and fantastic rocks. As they rounded the rockery, the scenery shifted to artfully arranged flowers and willows, stones caressing the stream, a clear current spilling from between the rocks, petals floating on the surface.

Han Chu was enchanted by this unique landscape and lost herself in admiration.

She soon noticed covered walkways built over the water, twisting and turning around the pond, linking together with pavilions so that one could pass directly from east to west. The side corridors on both ends boasted over a hundred lattice windows, each with a different pattern, dazzling to the eye.

Only then did Han Chu realize the entire garden was built over water, or perhaps a spring had been diverted into it. As she followed Shen Yu deeper inside, she felt as though she were treading upon waves, walking atop the water itself.

Having seen but the entrance, already her eyes were overwhelmed by the beauty. Han Chu could easily imagine how exquisitely carved and painted the east and west wings must be, their full splendor obscured by the winding corridors.

This artful design, half-concealed and half-revealed, truly broadened her horizons.

Though Han Chu already knew Shen Yu’s true identity, she was nonetheless astonished by the refinement of this private estate. If a personal residence was so lavish, what need to speak of the Marquis Wen Chang’s grand mansion?

Shen Yu, meanwhile, deliberately slowed his pace, watching Han Chu’s reactions from the corner of his eye. Seeing her admiration and surprise, a softness crept into his heart. He cleared his throat and said, “You’ll stay here for now. When things quiet down, I’ll make proper arrangements.”

In Shen Yu’s mind, he had made himself perfectly clear—this was only a temporary place for her, and in the future he would settle her openly and honorably.

Yet the same words, heard by Han Chu, took on another meaning.

Was this… keeping a beauty hidden away in a golden chamber? She longed to ask, yet knew she had no right. Sold by Madam Feng to Shen Yu, from this day forth her fate was in his hands. Whether she was to undress for him or sweep the courtyard, it was all at his command.

Seeing Han Chu remain silent for so long, Shen Yu’s irritation flared again, and he was about to speak sharply when a coy, sweet voice sounded from behind, “Young Marquis.”

Shen Yu turned to look. It was a courtesan he had once favored, named Chacha.

Chacha, as her name suggested, was like a vibrant red camellia. She too came from the Drunken Blossom House and was, in fact, an old acquaintance of Han Chu. Shen Yu had once been infatuated with her, for Chacha knew how to play coy and tease, wearing down his resistance with her gentle ways until he finally redeemed her from the brothel.

Later, as his affection faded, Shen Yu had intended to let Chacha go, but she herself refused to leave. Noting her spirited temperament, he handed her over to the housekeeper for some instruction and put her in charge of “Rainbow’s Pursuit Garden.”

The reason Shen Yu brought Han Chu here was twofold: this garden was his private property, secluded and quiet, ensuring Han Chu’s safety, and Chacha, being from the same background, could look after her.

Originally, he had planned to spend some time with Han Chu before negotiating her redemption, but fate intervened—Drunken Blossom House caught fire, and that unexpected disaster paved the way for his plans.

Shen Yu consoled himself that this was the best arrangement he could offer Han Chu.

“Young Marquis?” He did not know how long he had been lost in thought when Chacha called again. Glancing at the silent, downcast Han Chu, he finally smiled at Chacha, “This is Han Chu, do you still recognize her?”

Chacha, true to her name, was as fiery as a tea blossom. Seeing Shen Yu arrive with Han Chu, she teased with little regard for status, “The number one beauty of Nanxi—who wouldn’t know her? Congratulations, Young Marquis, you’ve won another beauty.”

Another? Shen Yu’s brow knit almost imperceptibly. It was true—he had embraced many beauties before, but only this time did he feel his wish fulfilled.

With that thought, his mood lightened considerably. He flicked Chacha’s forehead playfully, pretending to scold, “Enough chatter from you. Go prepare a courtyard.”

Chacha laughed even more brightly, rubbing her forehead and pouting teasingly, “The Young Marquis is fickle! Hmph!” With that, she flounced away, feigning reluctance.

Shen Yu couldn’t help but laugh, then turned to Han Chu. Seeing her so detached, his irritation flared once more. “Didn’t Madam Feng teach you any manners? You’ve been silent all this time and can’t even manage a word?”

Han Chu finally looked up at him, biting her lip and pointing to her throat.

“A sore throat?”

Han Chu shook her head.

“Don’t want to talk?”

She shook her head again.

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost your voice?” Shen Yu’s patience snapped and he mocked her coldly.

This time, Han Chu nodded gently.

Shen Yu’s expression changed at once and he reached to touch her slender neck, but Han Chu instinctively stepped back, leaving his hand suspended in midair.

“Let me see.” His concern overcame his annoyance. He pulled Han Chu in front of him. “Open your mouth and let me take a look.”

Han Chu pressed her lips together, stubborn and embarrassed, refusing to comply.

“I don’t have all day!” Shen Yu’s face darkened as he repeated, “Open your mouth!”

Not daring to anger him further, Han Chu reluctantly parted her lips. Shen Yu held her chin, tilting her face to the light, peering at her throat, but found nothing amiss.

Just then, Han Chu’s body trembled lightly, her breath brushing Shen Yu’s face. The beauty before him had lips like cherry blossoms, teeth like pearls, her breath fragrant as orchids, and his mind began to wander. Unable to help himself, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

Soft and sweet—just as he had imagined. No, even more wonderful than he’d dreamed! Only, he was not her first man, nor her first kiss; Helian Qi had beaten him to it.

Jealousy surged within him at the thought, and a subtle bitterness rose in his chest. Sensing Han Chu’s struggle, he only tightened his embrace, deepening the kiss with a wild intensity.

Shen Yu’s actions terrified Han Chu, but for him, the culprit, it was a perverse satisfaction. He held her tightly, forcing her to share in his passion, as if only this way could he truly capture her attention.

Suddenly, a sharp pain made him release her. Shen Yu raised a hand to his lips and wiped away a trace of blood. “You dared bite me?”

Han Chu gasped for breath, stumbling back three steps. She still could not speak, nor did she know what to say.

Shen Yu watched her, wide-eyed and uneasy as a startled fawn, and laughed silently. Blood still stained his lips, lending him a bewitching, rakish charm.

“Come here! I won’t touch you again.” Having gotten what he wanted, he knew when to stop. He spoke in a low voice.

Han Chu remained rooted in place, her eyes full of reproach, shame and anger mingling.

“Truly can’t speak?” Shen Yu asked with a smile.

Han Chu nodded.

“When did it start?” He considered. “Since last night?”

She acquiesced.

Shen Yu finally frowned. He had been frail since childhood, but by chance had become a disciple of the revered Physician Qu, learning most of his master’s skills. He prided himself on a medical expertise rivaling the Imperial Medical Bureau, but illnesses of the throat were not his specialty.

This was a tricky problem—why had Han Chu suddenly lost her voice? Her throat looked fine; could it be psychological? He would have to consult the Imperial physicians another day, or perhaps seek advice from someone in the East Garden.

With this in mind, Shen Yu sighed softly. “Not hearing your voice is really worrying. Don’t fret—my medical skills are second to none. I’ll restore your speech.”

Only then did Han Chu suppress her shame and anger, forcing a faint smile that was both agreement and gratitude.

Shen Yu had rarely seen her smile; it was like a fresh breeze, sweeping away all his irritation and jealousy, leaving only tenderness in its wake.

Touching the bite mark on his lip, he warned her solemnly, “Don’t go looking for trouble with Ming Ying behind my back.”

Han Chu was startled, then gave a self-mocking smile, as if ridiculing herself.

Only then did Shen Yu relax, about to say something more, when Chacha returned.

“Young Marquis!” Her voice rang out before she appeared, still bright and lively. “Han Chu’s courtyard is ready.”

Shen Yu nodded lightly, swallowing his words. He turned to Han Chu with a final reminder, “Don’t worry about your voice; let Chacha settle you in first.”

He hesitated, then added, “Don’t go to the East Garden. There’s an important guest staying there.”