Chapter 82: Eighty-Six: Bai Mao Who Crawls Into the Blanket

Eighty-Six: Bai Mao Who Crawls Into the Blanket

The second floor of Yunshui Pavilion.

Two slow, dragging footsteps descended the stairs one after another.

“Brother Su…”

“Brother Yan…”

The two met.

Yan Liulang noticed this Su family young master’s dark circles had grown darker.

Su Dalang noticed this blue-clad constable no longer held his blade with both hands, but loosely gripped it in one.

Both silently found chairs by the windows and sat together.

They turned their heads, gazing at each other in silence for a while.

Both couldn’t help but exhale deeply.

“…”

Everything was understood without words.

You quietly glance back, stealing a look at the person hunched over, absorbed in reading at the desk.

Huh? How did that octopus extend a soft, icy tentacle onto my waist, just chilling there like Cthulhu… wait, that’s not right!

Weilai’s silver hair was not damp, clad in a plain, moon-white nightgown; though often bullied in Meilu Garden, her nutrition was never lacking.

She paid no attention to the simple glances cast by the two, turned, and walked toward the stairs; I pulled at my mouth:

To be honest, I’ve spent all day thinking about famine relief and flood control, constantly running about, and truly haven’t spent much time with this dear aunt.

After reflecting and sighing for a while, Yan Liulang slowly walked back up from downstairs with Liu Ashan.

…

Yan Liulang glanced at the two waiting by the window and casually remarked.

Deep night. Yan Liulang finished reading and prepared for bed.

Yan Liulang propped himself up with his right arm; the quilt slid down. He lifted his head—and froze in shock:

Perhaps because of what happened at the dining table earlier, Weilai often drifted into absent-mindedness.

At one moment, her hand brushed against a robe I had changed into; the silver-haired girl quietly buried her face in the garment and stole a sniff—no unfamiliar scent of the master.

The one-armed youth and the Persian merchant’s figures had vanished.

Su and Yan both chuckled and followed.

The large pavilion at the very back of the courtyard was where Yan Liulang and his personal maid Weilai lived.

As if recalling something, the silver-haired girl’s face turned pale.

Passed by Ouyang Rong’s first floor.

It made Yan Liulang feel as if you weren’t even listening at all.

He avoided Zhen Shi’s affection and concern, still the same old problem: fear of entanglement.

The speaker meant it, but the listener didn’t hear.

Su Dalang looked around in confusion:

The once silent, tranquil courtyard immediately came alive.

“Didn’t the magistrate only book two qing? We’ve been here half an hour already—shouldn’t the magistrate be waiting downstairs for us?”

Bai Mao clutched He Shuying’s waist tightly, buried her face in his chest, and wrapped both arms around his back without letting go… She sniffled, voice trembling with tears, murmuring foolishly:

A moment ago, someone suddenly woke, startled from beneath the pillow.

“Did he just hear what the young master praised about He Shuying’s food?”

Weilai answered listlessly, standing beside the bed, lowering her head, untying the hair cord; her silver hair spilled like a snow tide down to her waist.

Zhen Shi, Weilai, the slender girl, and the other maids all clustered around him, bustling about.

The woman in the silk skirt smiled faintly, a faint mole on her lip curving upward; she propped her chin, her expression tender and focused, eyes fixed on his face, murmuring “mm-hmm.”

Weilai obediently served him tea and brought him his robe.

Yan Liulang nodded, “I ate with Bayang and Ashan already.”

Yan Liulang saw this, said nothing, but still sat longer beside the woman in the silk skirt.

As usual, Yan Liulang, freshly bathed, wore clean outer robes and sat behind the desk, reading late into the night.

This inner robe was the one the master changed into after delivering lunch to Miss Xie… Didn’t the master just tell the young lady he was dining with colleagues tonight… then how did he come into contact with another man?

The silver-haired girl walked over to extinguish the lamp, then kicked off her shoes and climbed into the innermost quilt.

In the darkness, Yan Liulang soon drifted into sleep.

On the bed, there were two quilts—one outer, one inner.

She hastily shoved the robe back into the basket, didn’t bother tidying up much…

Returned to Meilu Garden.

“Mm, then I won’t mutter anymore. Can you leave now?”

“Hey, where’s Lianghan? Why hasn’t he come down yet?”

That fitted nightgown clung tightly to her figure.

Only one room in the pavilion glowed with light.

On the other side of the room, before a landscape screen, a petite figure with silver hair tied in twin buns was gathering dirty clothes from the wooden rack beside the bath tub.

Only after a while did someone finally react.

“I don’t know.”

Zhen Shi’s expression showed a hint of disappointment.

The room was pitch-black, utterly silent, save for the woman’s orderly breathing.

“Tomorrow, go find out—see if we can hire that cook.”

Indeed, it was Bai Mao—her smooth, bright silver hair was visible even in darkness.

But Yan Liulang didn’t know that those behind him now gazed at his back with even greater reverence…

After returning Yunshui Pavilion to the Su residence and politely declining Su Bo’s warm hospitality, Yan Liulang left with a twinge of guilt.

That tall-capped tea master may be clumsy, but looking ahead, he’s quite eager to learn.

“Didn’t expect the magistrate would add another qing for free… I even advised him to pick the same as ours, Brother Su. You really shouldn’t have spoken up—you’re too well-behaved.”

Are they… coming down too fast?

After chatting a while longer, as night deepened, Yan Liulang took his leave of Zhen Shi and returned to his room.

Yan Liulang had always denied one thing in his heart:

Actually, Yan Liulang had been chatting with Ashan in the private room, guiding the tea master named Cui’er in brewing tea, and that’s why he was slightly delayed.

Yan Liulang and the others naturally knew nothing of this; after leaving Ouyang Rong, they each returned to their quarters.

Judging by her movements, she was clearly a repeat offender—but this time, she suddenly looked up, her face filled with confusion and bewilderment, frantically grabbing other garments from the basket and burying her face to sniff…

Yan Liulang rubbed his eyes, climbed out of bed, and slipped into the outermost quilt, murmuring, “Good night.”

…

“Yes, Young Lady.”

“I just saw—the tea master who entered Lianghan’s room was prettier than ours.”

But this caused both Yunshui Pavilion and Su Dalang’s faces to drop, speechless.

Yan.

They said nothing, smiled not at all, exchanged a silent glance, then turned away, gazing out the window at the night scenery.

When he reads and writes, he often watches you… Weilai was used to it, and continued turning to gather the dirty clothes.

After a while, when the silver-haired girl’s head abruptly rose from beneath a woman’s inner robe, her face turned utterly flustered.

“Master… I… I want to sleep with you!”

He Shuying came softly: “Why are you back so late, my love? Did you eat?”

In the empty hall, Zhen Shi watched her beloved nephew’s back disappear, her smile fading instantly; she turned her head and said:

Yan Liulang sighed:

One Bai Mao in the quilt.

“No, Young Lady.”

After speaking, he casually praised Ouyang Rong’s signature dish.

Su Dalang’s expression showed a hint of envy:

Beside the steaming bath tub, the silver-haired girl, barely reaching the tub’s rim, held a bamboo basket, tiptoeing to place one by one the clothes Yan Liulang had changed into into the basket.

It was already the seventh watch, the night cool as water.

The silver-haired girl still had no sense of boundaries…

He Shuying declined outright—he didn’t even have time to teach Weilai, let alone let someone freeload on him. No way.

At these words, Su Dalang and Yan Liulang fell silent.

The young county magistrate was like a matchstick, instantly igniting this household.

“…”

The master’s robe… there’s a familiar man’s scent on it!

Meilu Garden was a seven-room courtyard.

“They’re quick, aren’t they?”

Yan Liulang shook his head, paused, and asked curiously:

“I heard it.”

Perhaps he was too tired today, but Yan Liulang did not sleep after stroking the silver hair of the boy beside him.

You are of foreign blood yourself; though only a boy, your growth has been slow, shorter than other Eastern boys your age.

At some moment, the two blankets in the dark slowly stirred…

“Quiet.”

“You… what are you doing?”

Yan Liulang fell asleep easily tonight, but the only strange thing he vaguely noticed was… dreaming he had fallen into the deep sea, enveloped by an unusually clingy four-clawed octopus.

“…”

Though it was long past time to leave, she insisted on staying longer to study, and finally, timidly and hesitantly, asked Yan Liulang for his contact details, saying she wished to send letters in the future, to take the posture of a disciple and humbly seek his guidance in tea ceremony…

The girl grew even more silent, curling up within the blanket.

Thank you to my good brother “r0ut3r” for the initial support! Thank you to my good brothers “Mozi Yan,” “Hengyang Wuyi,” “Huidi Xiangtian,” “Tianji Qingkuang Haoyue Kong,” “Chi Yuan yuan,” and others for their support! (pouts)