Today, The Villain Couple is Settling Scores Again

In the dimly lit corridor, the flickering torches resembled ghostly flames.

Shen Jizhi emerged from the stone gate, carrying a bag, and headed in the direction of the Plum Courtyard.

Every few steps along the corridor, black-clad guards stood watch, with patrols of guards occasionally passing by.

While shopping earlier, Shen Jizhi had overheard some gossip.

Due to their intrusion, the Dark Palace had recently tightened security everywhere.

Shen Jizhi had initially planned to take this opportunity to explore, but now, it was best not to act rashly.

It would be wiser to wait a few days until the patrols relaxed a bit before making a move.

Mimicking the posture of a musician, he hunched slightly, walking close to the damp, moss-covered walls.

At the corner, Shen Jizhi encountered a patrol for the fifth time.

The patrol consisted of ten guards, clad in black armor, marching in unison toward him.

The lead guard spotted him and greeted with a laugh, "Hey, Musician Wen, out shopping?"

The musician was known to be a bit slow to react.

Hearing the guard call out to him, Shen Jizhi paused for a moment before hurriedly lowering his head and replying, "Yes, I bought some fruits and candied preserves..."

"Musicians are refined scholars, truly different from us rough folk," the guard said, passing Shen Jizhi with a mocking laugh. "We rough folk prefer wine and meat! Fruits and candied preserves? That's what little maids like to eat!"

The guards behind him burst into laughter.

Shen Jizhi looked meek, shrinking into the corner like a turtle retreating into its shell, offering no rebuttal.

The guards didn’t suspect a thing, and the two groups continued in opposite directions, about to pass each other.

Suddenly, Shen Jizhi felt something—his Five-Colored Stone, located near his golden core, gave a faint tremble. A familiar aura, identical to the seal on the stone, emanated faintly from the last guard in the black-clad patrol.

That person seemed to sense something amiss as well. At the corner, he glanced back at Shen Jizhi, then quickly averted his gaze.

The two groups completely passed each other, with the black-clad guards heading down the corridor and Shen Jizhi continuing upward.

Hidden beneath his thick lashes, Shen Jizhi's eyes gleamed, and his lips moved silently.

Liu Hu.

Or rather, his master, Gu Shan.

Now, he might have a way out.

...

Shen Jizhi returned late to the Plum Courtyard, and the sky had already darkened.

He went to find Tao Hong.

Before leaving last night, Mei Yi had mentioned that if he needed anything, he could simply ask Tao Hong.

"Wine?" Tao Hong quickly agreed. "Of course, we have some. Please follow me, Young Master. I'll take you to the storeroom in the courtyard."

Shen Jizhi nodded slightly. "Thank you."

Tao Hong carried a lantern, leading Shen Jizhi through the winding corridors. "Madam is also fond of wine. The storeroom has many fine wines, gifts from the city lord to her. Feel free to take whatever you like."

Shen Jizhi asked, "Do you have any Daughter Red?"

Tao Hong nodded eagerly. "Yes! There should be two jars of Daughter Red left in the storeroom. Will that be enough? If not, I can mention it to Matron An tomorrow, saying that Madam needs..."

"No need, that’s enough," Shen Jizhi interrupted. "Also, among the pills Madam promised me, there’s a type called Flying Illusion Ginseng. I’d like to take a small portion of it now."

Tao Hong looked puzzled. "A small portion?"

"Yes," Shen Jizhi thought for a moment. "The rest can be used to make pills. Just give me a small piece of the ginseng root."

The pills Mei Yi had promised him, worth over thirty thousand, were essentially his reward for helping her escape.

This arrangement suited him perfectly. He could store the pills for now, as they wouldn’t spoil, and he wasn’t in urgent need of cash.

If he ever ran short on money, he could sell the pills later.

Pills that could suppress the effects of the Immortal Origin Stone were undoubtedly valuable and easy to sell.

During the day, Jian Huan had been moving about under the guise of Ying Ti, while the real Ying Ti had to stay cooped up in her room.

Normally, after nightfall in the Plum Courtyard, Ying Ti would chat with the embroidery ladies and help them with their needlework.

Jian Huan had no interest in such activities and let Ying Ti go. The little maid happily left the room.

Jian Huan didn’t stay indoors either. Taking advantage of the night, she sneaked over to Shen Jizhi’s place, only to find him acting suspiciously deep in the bamboo grove.

Jian Huan ran over, her pale yellow dress brushing against the bamboo leaves, creating a rustling sound. "What are you doing sneaking around here?"

Without turning his head, Shen Jizhi replied, "Brewing wine."

"Brewing wine?" Jian Huan was puzzled. She crouched beside him and peered over.

In front of him was a large hole dug in the ground, with two open jars of Daughter Red placed beside it.

The aroma of wine filled the air, lingering around them.

Jian Huan instinctively sniffed, thinking the Daughter Red smelled quite good. "Why are you suddenly brewing wine? I remember you don’t drink much."

Shen Jizhi divided the Flying Illusion Ginseng root into two pieces, one long and one short, and calmly uttered four words: "To lure my master."

He explained to Jian Huan about encountering Gu Shan: "I suspect my master’s seal has loosened."

Previously, with the seal intact, he couldn’t sense Gu Shan’s aura. But now he could, indicating that the seal suppressing Gu Shan’s spiritual power had partially weakened.

However, it wasn’t completely broken. Otherwise, knowing his master’s temperament, Gu Shan would have already ransacked the Dark Palace, killed the Ghost Fish King, taken its demon core, and sold it for wine money.

Gu Shan’s love for wine was well-known throughout the Jade Clarity Sect. Jian Huan hugged her knees, quickly understanding Shen Jizhi’s plan, though she still had some doubts. "Once you leave this bamboo grove, the wine aroma might not carry far. How do you plan to lure your master?"

In response, Shen Jizhi placed the Flying Illusion Ginseng roots into the two jars of Daughter Red.

The moment the ginseng entered the wine, it was like dropping a fizzy tablet into water. The previously calm wine began to churn violently, with countless bubbles rising to the surface. The aroma of wine in the air grew even more intense.

Jian Huan’s eyes lit up. "It smells amazing! What kind of wine is this?"

"Flying Illusion Daughter Red. It’ll smell even better after three days of brewing," Shen Jizhi said nonchalantly, a hint of mockery in his tone. "My master’s nose is made for wine. Just wait and see—he’ll catch the scent. And once he does, he’ll come."

Jian Huan and Shen Jizhi exchanged a glance. Though neither spoke, they both knew what to do.

"Not bad, not bad," Jian Huan chuckled like a villain, then remembered her purpose and added, "Once your master regains his memories, ask him about the Immortal Origin Stone. Until then, don’t try to break the seal. I’ve been thinking, and I finally realized what’s off."

Shen Jizhi placed both hands on the jar lids, sealing them with five-colored spiritual energy to prevent the bubbles from escaping. "What is it?"

"It’s a classic manipulation tactic," Jian Huan said, picking up a bamboo leaf from the ground and twirling it between her fingers. "Think about it. If she had outright told you breaking the seal was fine, you would’ve been suspicious. But Mei Yi didn’t do that. First, she told you the Immortal Origin Stone couldn’t be broken, but then she begged you to break it to escape. That kind of contradiction makes people believe her. After warning you of the danger, she offers a solution to suppress it. Tsk, it’s all very calculated."

As Shen Jizhi listened, he sealed the jars, placed them into the hole, and covered them with soil.

Thinking, pondering?

The corners of his lips curled slightly, like a night-blooming flower. "I see."

The two stood up and walked out of the bamboo grove.

Jian Huan didn’t speak, and neither did Shen Jizhi.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, with not even the sound of insects, only the soft crunch of their shoes stepping on bamboo leaves.

Jian Huan kept her head down, her dark eyes fixed on her pale yellow dress, her lips pressed together.

This was getting awkward.

Ever since she started feeling like she was "losing out" when it came to him, the atmosphere had become strange.

The Plum Courtyard’s nights were cool, yet there was an inexplicable warmth in the air.

The young man and woman, each lost in their own thoughts, walked in silence.

Perhaps because the bamboo grove was dense and the path narrow, or perhaps for other reasons, they walked very close to each other.

So close that at one point, their hands brushed lightly against each other as they moved.

Jian Huan’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly stepped away.

She hurriedly bid farewell, her voice tinged with hidden fluster. "I’m leaving..."

"Wait," Shen Jizhi grabbed her wrist, his gaze meeting hers. "I have something for you."

With a creak, Shen Jizhi pushed open his door. Meanwhile, Jian Huan had already opened the window.

She placed her hands on the windowsill, leaped lightly over it, and sat on the ledge, her legs dangling in the air.

Inside the room, a candle burned, and the musician was already asleep, his breathing steady.

Jian Huan whispered, "What do you want to give me?"

She had been asking along the way, but Shen Jizhi didn’t reveal anything, only saying she’d know when she got it.

This made Jian Huan lose all her girlish thoughts, and she just wanted to stuff Shen Jizhi into a sack and beat him up.

She hated people who kept secrets!

Shen Jizhi: “Can’t you be a little patient?”

He asked her to wait outside the door, but Jian Huan was never one to wait patiently. The moment he left, she immediately went around to the window. Really...

But, who made her like him?

Jian Huan clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

Shen Jizhi ignored Jian Huan and walked over to the mirror first, using a cleansing spell to remove the makeup he had applied to imitate the musician.

The musician’s face wasn’t particularly attractive.

Jian Huan opened her eyes, crossed her arms, and stared at Shen Jizhi’s every move, utterly puzzled: “You removed it? What about tomorrow? Are you not going out?”

“Hmm, today I ran into a guard who knows the musician,” Shen Jizhi said, stepping away from the dressing table. “The musician doesn’t go out much, so it’s not appropriate for me to go out too often. I’ll be staying in the bamboo garden for the next three days.”

Jian Huan: “Oh.”

Shen Jizhi walked slowly to the rosewood carved cabinet in the room, opened the door, and took out a cloth bag from inside.

When Jian Huan saw the bag, she was slightly stunned.

The bag looked familiar, as if it was the same one he had used two years ago to give her fruits, which she later returned to him.

Shen Jizhi placed the bag in her arms, and the weight of it brought Jian Huan back to reality.

She instinctively held onto it, lowered her head, and opened the bag to peek inside.

Inside was a bunch of plump, dark purple grapes, two bright yellow bananas, a peach, and a package of pastries.

Shen Jizhi leaned one hand on the windowsill, his hand just a fist’s distance away from Jian Huan, who was sitting on it.

Close, but not so close as to be impolite.

On the bed, the musician turned over, muttering something incomprehensible in his sleep.

Shen Jizhi glanced through the white bed curtains and lowered his voice to explain to her: “Fruits are a bit expensive in the Dark Palace. I bought these using the musician’s identity, so I could only get this much.”

Jian Huan lowered her head, then looked up at him, disapproving: “But did the musician know you were giving these to me? If he didn’t, isn’t that kind of inappropriate?”

She assumed that the musician must have paid for the fruits.

After all, Shen Jizhi didn’t eat these things, so it was unlikely he had bought them for the musician. Such a thing would never happen with Shen Jizhi, not even if the sun rose from the west.

After buying them, out of hospitality, the musician would probably say something like, “Feel free to take some if you want, don’t be shy,” and Shen Jizhi had just taken them and given them to her. It didn’t seem right.

Jian Huan sat on the windowsill, while he stood, their eyes level.

Shen Jizhi looked at her: “Why would the musician need to know?”

Jian Huan: “Because he paid for it...”

“No, Jian Huan,” Shen Jizhi’s face was pale, but his eyes were deep, like a clear pool under the night sky, calm yet dangerous. “This bag, I paid for it.”

Jian Huan’s eyes widened, her pink lips parting slightly as she looked at him in surprise.

He had paid for the fruits and then... gave them to her?

She vaguely began to realize something.

Jian Huan suddenly tightened her grip on the bag in her arms. She felt flustered, unsure of what to do.

Even though Shen Jizhi hadn’t moved an inch, she somehow felt as if he was closing in on her.

Instinctively, she leaned back, losing her balance and nearly toppling off the windowsill.

Shen Jizhi reached out, steadying her by the waist and helping her sit back up.

The distance between them suddenly narrowed. Jian Huan was pulled back by his strength, her forehead resting against his right shoulder, her nose filled with the faint scent of wine mixed with bamboo—a distinctly masculine aroma.

The wine was too strong. His hands, seemingly not fully cleansed by the spell, still carried the rich, mellow fragrance of the daughter’s wine infused with flying illusion ginseng. The scent seeped through the soft, cool silk, burning hot.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

It burned Jian Huan’s cheeks red, her back stiffening, her heart pounding like a drum.

Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly. Shen Jizhi couldn’t see her face clearly, but he could see the long, delicate lashes flickering like butterfly wings.

Shen Jizhi slowly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The sound of his rapid breathing echoed in Jian Huan’s ears, one after another, reminiscent of the audio recordings she had listened to in her modern life.

Outside the window, everything was silent.

On the windowsill, the young man’s hand rested on the girl’s waist, restrained, while his other hand pressed against the sill, his fingertips turning white from the force.

The girl lowered her head, her forehead lightly resting against the young man’s right shoulder, her arms clutching the slightly worn white cloth bag.

The celestial stone glowed with a silvery light in the night, resembling the moon, yet not quite the moon.

The two seemed to be embracing, yet not quite.

The candle flame flickered.

The air around them felt as if it were filled with water, the carved window frame swirling with invisible currents, countless transparent bubbles rising fiercely to the surface, creating ripples that spread outward.