Host! I told you to do a task! I didn't tell you to bbb.

Chapter 134 The Bright and Elegant Fake Gold 11

Wen Zhimiao held the sleeping Liu Yunshu in his arms, his footsteps extremely light, the hem of his black official robe sweeping across the bluestone slabs in front of the mansion gate.

As she passed through the garden, she encountered Madam Wen. Seeing Liu Yunshu in Wen Zhimiao's arms, she stepped forward with concern, "What happened to Shu'er?"

Wen Zhimiao paused, slightly turning to protect the person in her arms, her tone extremely gentle: "Mother, she drank some wine at Yuquan Villa and fell asleep."

Seeing that Liu Yunshu's brows were slightly furrowed, Madam Wen reached out and gently touched her forehead.

She breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that the temperature was normal, and gave Wen Zhimiao a reproachful look.

"You too, why didn't you stop her? It's very impolite for a young lady to drink too much."

Wen Zhimiao looked down at the peaceful sleeping face of the person in her arms, a hint of tenderness flashing in her eyes.

"Today is a chrysanthemum appreciation banquet. The princess is very hospitable. It is not a big deal if we drink a little too much."

Madam Wen sighed, her gaze sweeping over Liu Yunshu's slightly disheveled hair, her tone softening.

"Alright, she's young, and it's a rare treat for her to have some fun. Quickly take her back to her room. I'll have the kitchen make some hangover soup later, so she can drink it when she wakes up."

"Thank you, Mother." Wen Zhimiao nodded in response, carefully adjusted her carrying position to make Liu Yunshu's head rest more steadily, and slowly walked towards Liu Yunshu's courtyard.

Upon seeing this, the maidservant guarding outside the courtyard quickly stepped forward and lifted the curtain.

Wen Zhimiao gently placed her on the soft, plush canopy bed, bent down to cover her with the brocade quilt, and her fingertips inadvertently brushed against her slightly swollen lips, then quickly withdrew as if burned.

He stood quietly by the bed for a moment, looking at Liu Yunshu's slightly pursed lips as she slept, and his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

The sensations from inside the carriage came back to me clearly, and my ears felt hot again.

"Young master, let me take care of the young lady," Biyan said softly from behind.

Wen Zhimiao snapped back to reality, suppressed the surging thoughts in her heart, and stepped aside to make way.

His tone regained some of its usual composure, but still carried a hint of barely perceptible tension: "Keep a close eye on her. If she wakes up, give her a glass of warm water first, and bring her the hangover soup when it's ready."

"Yes, this servant has remembered." Biyan replied respectfully.

Wen Zhimiao didn't dare to look at the person on the bed any longer. He turned around and walked quickly out of the room, and even the autumn wind under the corridor couldn't dispel the heat around him.

He gently stroked his fingertips, feeling the sensations inside the carriage, her soft, sweet voice, and the warmth of their lips touching.

Scenes kept replaying in my mind, and my heart was still pounding so fast I couldn't calm it down.

That night, he dreamed again.

In that same cave, he developed a fever, felt hot all over, and kept saying he was cold.

"Brother, drink some water."

A complex mix of emotions welled up inside him, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension about the unknown.

He felt her warmth once again, and how he stirred up trouble.

The scene shifts to today, on a horse-drawn carriage.

Liu Yunshu nestled in his arms, savoring the milk pudding.

He was immersed in that warm softness, his nose filled with the scent of chrysanthemums and wine from her body, and even his fingertips still retained the delicate touch of her waist.

In his dream, he didn't restrain himself. Instead, he raised his hand and gently pressed it against the back of her neck, responding to the innocent touch. His heartbeat throbbed painfully in his ears.

Suddenly, Liu Yunshu's voice became clear in the dream, still that soft and sweet voice, "Brother, I wish you weren't my brother."

Wen Zhimiao suddenly opened her eyes; the sky outside the window was already slightly bright.

He sat up, his forehead covered with a thin layer of sweat, his chest still heaving violently.

Last night's dream intertwined with the scenes in the carriage, leaving him feeling both confused and excited.

"Absurd," he muttered to himself, unable to suppress the surging emotions within him.

He raised his hand and pressed his temples, forcing himself to calm down.

She was his sister, and no matter how turbulent those secret feelings were, he could only suppress them.

He glanced at it silently...

She sighed softly and slowly got up to make the bed.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Shuyun Courtyard.

Liu Yunshu sat in front of the dressing table, while Biyan combed her hair from behind.

She looked at herself in the mirror and a pleased smile appeared on her lips.

"Miss seems to be in a very good mood today."

Biyan, her hair styled in a bun, chuckled and teased, "Perhaps you had a great time at yesterday's chrysanthemum appreciation banquet?"

Liu Yunshu lightly touched the carvings on the dressing table with her fingertips, reliving yesterday's good show in her mind.

"Yes, we had a lot of fun."

Yesterday's feigned drunkenness, his flustered eyes, his burning ears, and that final, unexpected touch.

That's a really good response!

Biyan inserted a white jade chrysanthemum hairpin into her hair bun and looked in the mirror following her gaze.

"It's just that Miss was very drunk yesterday, and the young master had to carry you back to your room."

Liu Yunshu paused, her smile deepening, and deliberately tilted her head, saying:

"Really? I don't quite remember. I'll have to thank you properly later, brother!"

Liu Yunshu stood up and straightened the hem of her silver-red embroidered chrysanthemum skirt, a smile hidden in the corner of her eyes: "Let's go, let's go pay our respects to Mother, and then go see Brother."

When Liu Yunshu arrived at the main hall, Madam Wen was sitting on the couch flipping through account books. Upon seeing her enter, she immediately put down the book and waved.

"Shu'er is here. Are you still feeling dizzy? The kitchen has made some hangover soup. Have the maid heat it up for you."

"Thank you, Mother. I'm perfectly fine." Liu Yunshu sat down next to Madam Wen.

Madam Wen affectionately tapped her forehead and scolded, "You mustn't drink so much next time. A young lady should be more composed when she's out."

Mrs. Wen held her hand, her fingertips gently stroking the back of her hand.

"When Zhi Miao brought you back yesterday, you were sleeping soundly, but your brows were furrowed. I was so worried about you."

Liu Yunshu lowered her head, feeling embarrassed, and said, "Biyan already told me. Then I have to go apologize to my brother; I'm sorry to have troubled him."

Madam Wen smiled and nodded: "Go ahead, it's rare that he didn't go out today."

Liu Yunshu bid farewell to Madam Wen and walked briskly towards Wen Zhimiao's Jingsi Courtyard.

As soon as I entered the courtyard, I saw Wen Zhimiao practicing her sword.

His dark-colored outfit accentuated his tall and slender figure. When he drew his longsword, it created a swift, whistling sound. The blade, reflecting the morning light, traced a series of cold, sharp arcs.

The autumn chrysanthemums by the pond were stirred by the sword energy, and petals fell softly onto his shoulders, but he was completely unaware, immersed in the sword moves.

With wrist flicks, body spins, and thrusts, each move was sharp and steady. The morning light fell on his taut jawline and fluttering clothes, adding to his handsome and dashing appearance.

Liu Yunshu leaned against the gate of the courtyard, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the figure practicing swordsmanship in the field.

My eyes were full of admiration. My man is just that handsome!

Until Wen Zhimiao sheathed his sword, making a crisp "clang" sound.

Liu Yunshu clapped her hands with a smile, "Brother, your swordsmanship is getting better and better! That spinning slash and thrust just now was both fast and steady!"

Wen Zhimiao turned her head and saw her leaning against the doorway, her silver-red skirt making her face look fair and delicate, and her admiration was undisguised.

Chrysanthemum petals slipped off her shoulder, her ears felt slightly hot, but she spoke in a deliberately indifferent tone: "How long have you been standing here? Why don't you come in?"

Liu Yunshu walked closer, her gaze sweeping over his sweat-dampened forehead. She naturally picked up a handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat from his brow.

Her fingertips brushed against his warm skin, and Wen Zhimiao stiffened slightly. He instinctively wanted to back away, but she gently pressed his shoulder down.

"Don't move, you're sweating."

Liu Yunshu's voice was soft and gentle, and when the handkerchief brushed against his jawline, she deliberately lingered for a half-beat.

"Mother said I drank too much yesterday, and you carried me back to my room. Thank you for your help, brother. I'm just apologizing to you."

Wen Zhimiao lowered her eyes to look at the top of her head, which was so close to hers, and the faint fragrance emanating from her body lingered in her nostrils.

His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his tone was somewhat unnatural: "It was nothing, no need for special thanks."

He took the handkerchief from her hand, casually wiped the sweat from his neck, and turned to walk towards the stone table.

"You're standing in the doorway getting sunburned, come and sit down."

Liu Yunshu smiled and followed, sitting down opposite him, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand: "Brother, you didn't go to the Dali Temple today? It's rare to see you practicing your sword."

"The clues from that day were thoroughly investigated, and nothing could be found. I don't need to go back anymore."

Wen Zhimiao lowered her eyes to look at the celadon teacup in her hand, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the rim of the cup.

He actually had some suspicions in his mind, but since he didn't have any concrete evidence at the moment, he couldn't say it aloud.

A knowing glint flashed in Liu Yunshu's eyes, but she didn't press the matter.

He changed the subject, deliberately tilting his head, and said, "Speaking of which, I was completely drunk last night, and I don't remember anything after that. Brother, I didn't do anything to make things difficult for you, did I?"

Wen Zhimiao's hand gripping the teacup tightened suddenly, her fingertips turning white, and the touch and dream inside the carriage flashed through her mind in an instant.

He looked up and met her seemingly innocent yet bewildered gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he suppressed the agitation in his heart, saying calmly, "No, I just slept soundly and didn't wake up the whole way."

"That's good. I was worried I might say something inappropriate after drinking."

Liu Yunshu smiled and breathed a sigh of relief, then reached out and picked up a piece of osmanthus cake from the table, handing it to him.

"Brother, are you tired from practicing swordsmanship? This osmanthus cake looks delicious, have a taste."

Wen Zhimiao looked at the pastries she handed over, her fingertips inadvertently brushing against her fingertips.

The warm touch made him pause slightly, but he still took it and took a small bite.

The sweet aroma spread across the tongue, but it couldn't compare to the intense, strange flutter in the heart.