Chapter Thirteen: Responsibility

The next day dawned bright and clear. A gentle ray of sunlight streamed softly through the window, falling upon the two figures in bed, both of whom had slept soundly. Zhongli Yu slowly opened his eyes, recalling with a start that he had spent the night in someone else’s domain. As he turned over, he nearly brushed against the person beside him and froze in shock. Gazing at the breathtaking face beside him, he found himself entranced.

Zhan Yan stirred, awakening slowly, immediately sensing the heated gaze of the man at her side. A faint blush colored her cheeks. What on earth had gotten into her last night, letting him sleep in her bed instead of tossing him into another room?

“Hey, you…” she began, her voice husky, unsure how to cover up the awkwardness between them.

“You actually slept in the same bed as me. You have to take responsibility,” he said shamelessly, as if he were the wronged party, though he knew perfectly well that nothing had happened.

“Take… take responsibility?” she stammered, so infuriated she could barely speak.

“Mm, you need to be responsible for me,” he insisted.

Zhan Yan, beside herself with anger, let out a laugh. “Fine. How exactly should I take responsibility?”

“We shared a bed; my reputation is ruined. I’ll never find a wife now, so you must make amends,” he replied with an air of innocence.

“There’s nothing wrong with remaining a bachelor,” she retorted.

“You see? You’re denying it again. Ten years ago, you did the same. And ten years later, nothing has changed.” He deliberately dropped this bomb.

“What do you mean, ten years ago…” She was taken aback, realizing the oddity of his words. Ten years ago? Her face went blank—she even forgot to be angry.

“Yes, ten years ago, you said that if you remained unmarried, I should marry you. But when I came to claim you, you feigned death and fled.”

“If, ten years from now, you remain unwed and I unwed, will you marry me?” At last, she remembered her childhood words and was struck dumb. This man—this man was the boy from that day! No wonder his eyes had seemed so familiar. But she'd been just over four years old then. Even if she carried memories from a past life, the person before her could not have known. How could he take a child’s words to heart?

Zhan Yan was utterly speechless.

“Yan’er, since you’re so irresponsible, don’t you think I should punish you?” His tone grew playful, his manner of address turning more intimate.

“Punish me? How?” The shocks of the morning were almost too much to bear; her face was a riot of color.

Feng Youran—none other than Zhongli Yu—gazed at her, momentarily lost in thought. He pulled her gently before him and pressed his lips to hers. The taste of her bewitched him; he was loath to let go. Zhan Yan’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t recovered from her earlier shock before his lips claimed hers, leaving her mind blank, her heart racing, the colors that had played across her cheeks vanishing, replaced by a flush of crimson.

It felt as though a century passed before, just as she was about to run out of breath, he freed her.

“That’s your punishment,” he murmured hoarsely.

Zhan Yan gasped for air, trying to make up for the lost breath. He watched the rosy flush of her cheeks, her lips moist and inviting, fighting the urge to kiss her again. It took all his willpower to suppress the desire that surged within him. So this was what it felt like to kiss her—so intoxicating, he thought dazedly.

She panted for quite some time before regaining her composure.

“Zhongli Yu, how did you find me here?” Zhan Yan was annoyed; had her abilities really become so unreliable? Even her last line of defense had failed.

“I have my ways. If I couldn't even manage this much, I suppose I’d deserve to remain a bachelor,” he replied with arrogance, clearly in excellent spirits.

“Why?” she asked, dazed.

“Because I like you.” He seemed to know what she meant and answered her directly.

“Like me?” Zhan Yan was bewildered. She remembered she’d only been four at the time. Was he some kind of pervert? A shiver ran down her spine.

As if reading her thoughts, he rapped her lightly on the head. “Stop with those wicked ideas.”

“Then what is it, if not perversion?” Since he’d guessed her thoughts, she blurted them out.

“What perversion? I was a child too. Children liking children isn’t perversion,” he retorted with perfect logic.

“If you know we were just children, haven’t you heard the saying that a child’s words carry no weight?”

“I have, but I don’t agree. Words once spoken should be honored.”

She was so thoroughly refuted that she was left speechless, stunned in place.

Seeing her bewildered expression, he sighed, his hand gently caressing her face as he spoke in a low voice, “Yan’er, I’ve waited so long for you to grow up.” He embraced her briefly, then strode out the door.

Zhan Yan sat there dazedly on the bed, trying to recover from the whirlwind of this morning’s events. She recalled that afternoon ten years ago, when the boy carried her on his back. The memory still warmed her heart. She had no idea what possessed her to say those words to him then—perhaps it was the loneliness she had felt since coming to this world, a loneliness so deep it had left her numb, or perhaps it was simply that being carried by him felt so good. She had no idea that her childish vow from ten years past would lead to this day. He liked her—she was sure of it now. Remembering his gentle words before he left—“Yan’er, I’ve waited so long for you to grow up”—she felt her eyes sting, as if a warm current was flowing quietly through her, melting the ice around her heart.

So this is what it feels like to be loved, she thought, as if a veil had lifted and her heart was suddenly clear as a mirror.

In the Prince Chun’s residence

Lihun saw Zhongli Yu return, his face expressionless, the dried blood on his brocade robe still visible. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “Young Master, you…?”

“Fetch Liying, Liting, and Lilan. Come to the study together.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Lihun saw the gravity in Zhongli Yu’s face and dared not delay.

Half an hour later, after giving his instructions to his subordinates, Zhongli Yu remained alone in the study. He had intended to slowly win her heart, to allow her time to accept him. But the peaceful scene of waking beside her that morning had made him unwilling to wait any longer. He wondered if she was angry with him—after all, he had kissed her on impulse. When had his self-control grown so weak? Sighing, Zhongli Yu pressed a hand to his forehead, resignation in his expression. It seemed he had truly been defeated at the hands of that little girl from so many years ago.