“Ah?” Wanruo stared blankly, utterly confused.
Bai Chen, however, had clearly expected this. The two of them were led into a private parlor where Prince Pingnan waited.
When the prince saw Wanruo was unharmed, joy practically leapt from his face. He rushed forward as if to embrace her—but Bai Chen stepped in with his arm, blocking him. “We ought to keep proper distance between men and women. Prince Pingnan, please restrain yourself.”
“Oh! Forgive me, Miss Wanruo. I was just so relieved to see you safe… hmm? Is that a decorative forehead paste? It suits you.” The prince realized he’d been careless and tried to cover it with flustered politeness.
Wanruo, a little embarrassed, touched her brow out of habit. She felt nothing special and forced a small smile. “Your Highness, I’m all right. The Grand Dowager—”
“That’s precisely why I called you!” Prince Pingnan cut in. “Bring the chests!”
Chests? Wanruo hadn’t noticed until servants hauled over two large wooden boxes and flipped open their lids. Her eyes nearly popped out.
One chest brimmed with gold bars; the other overflowed with glittering jewels. Wanruo’s mouth went dry—how much was that worth? If Bai Chen hadn’t held her back she might have tried to taste a gold bar to see if it was real.
“What is the meaning of this, Your Highness?” Bai Chen asked, feigning ignorance.
“This is for the two of you,” the prince replied, all smiles. “First, Miss Wanruo, I said your pastries at my residence would not go unrewarded. My mother loved them, and I’m grateful. Second—and this is most important—you both risked much to save my mother’s life. Now that the Grand Dowager has recovered, I send this as a token of my thanks. It cannot fully express my gratitude, but please accept it.”
So the Dowager was well. Relief washed over Wanruo; though she couldn’t remember the details of what had happened, the fact that he was there made her feel safe. She glanced at Bai Chen.
Instead of joining her relief, Bai Chen glanced at the chests and scoffed. “Hmph. Does Your Highness think we’re penniless?”
Wanruo gaped. Did he mean to refuse? She needed money—she had debts to repay. Was he doing this on purpose?
Prince Pingnan’s expression stiffened. He was a nobleman; his pride was piqued. “Master Bai may not be short of money, but one of those chests is for Miss Wanruo. It’s hardly fair to dismiss her share.”
Bai Chen tightened his hold on Wanruo’s shoulder and said, blunt and possessive, “She’s mine. What’s mine is hers.”
The pronouncement stunned both of them. Prince Pingnan knew full well Bai Chen had once spent an extravagant sum to secure Wanruo—calling her “his” wasn’t entirely wrong—but the tone made it sound as if she’d given herself to Bai Chen, which was awkward and confusing.
Wanruo didn’t know what he meant either. She tried to wrench free, but his grip held firm, and to the prince and his retinue the pair looked absurdly like a couple showing off.
“All right then—take the chests away,” Bai Chen said coolly. “Even if the Pingnan Mansion is filled with rarities, we have no need to be dazzled.”
A nearby guard bristled. “Who are you to speak to our prince like that? If not for the fact you saved the Grand Dowager—” He stepped forward, furious, but Prince Pingnan raised a hand.
“Stand down.” At his command, the guard folded back with a sulk. The prince smiled, unruffled. “Very well. Consider the debt owed. If ever you require anything of me—so long as it isn’t treachery or harm to the realm—I will do what I can to repay it. I won’t detain you. We shall take our leave.”
Before the carriage could roll away, a ladylike figure stepped down from a second vehicle: a girl in a cherry-petal pink gown, slender as a willow, face soft as a peach blossom. Princess Anyao—Prince Pingnan’s cousin—moved like a song.
“Hongxi!” she cried in a voice as bright as a thrush’s. She flung herself into the prince’s arms in a joy that was almost theatrical.
Wanruo and Bai Chen exchanged apologetic glances at the sight. The display only added to the awkwardness.
“Anyao, what are you doing here?” Pingnan asked, surprised.
“I came to see the Grand Dowager—father let me have a few days out. I heard she’d recovered, and when I didn’t find you at the mansion I went looking.” Anyao pouted playfully. Pingnan indulged her with the fondness of a man used to being adored.
Anyao’s gaze slid to Wanruo. She sized her up with a cool little appraisal. “So you’re the Miss Wanruo the Dowager mentioned. She said you were special—honestly, you’re not that impressive.” She smirked, faintly dismissive.
Wanruo smiled awkwardly and nodded; Bai Chen didn’t even bother to look her in the eye.
“Ah—before I forget—Miss Wanruo, this is Princess Anyao,” Pingnan said hurriedly.
“Let’s go, Hongxi. The Dowager’s waiting,” Anyao said, dragging him back toward her carriage.
“We’ll see you in a few days, Miss Wanruo!” Pingnan called, raising his hand from the carriage as it rolled off. Wanruo only lifted a small, polite wave.
As the last carriage disappeared, Wanruo turned on Bai Chen, fuming. “Why did you refuse his gift? He’s a prince! How could you speak to him like that? You know I’m in debt—were you doing that on purpose? Don’t you dare—”
“Do you mean to say you were worried about me?” Bai Chen dodged with a crooked smirk, skirting the real issue.
Wanruo’s temper flared at the dodge. “What are you talking about? I meant the money and the attitude—don’t be so full of yourself!”
Bai Chen softened, suddenly half teasing, half earnest. “All right, I get it. I’ll be more careful next time. Don’t make yourself sick—your health is mine concern.” He waved her off. “You haven’t had enough rest. Go home and sleep. You don’t have to work tonight.”
With that he turned and left.
Elsewhere, Qin Manman happened to pass the street and caught sight of the Pingnan carriage. Through the window she glimpsed Prince Pingnan’s profile and something like recognition sparked in her eyes.