Chapter 15: Seething with Rage and Chilled to the Bone

Cheng Guang gazed quietly at Qingluan, who was kneeling on the ground.

He said nothing, yet the pressure he exerted on her was immense. Lowering her head, her delicate frame trembled ever so slightly, alarmed by her own recent transgression.

“My lord, when did you return?” Qingluan asked respectfully.

Cheng Guang narrowed his eyes slightly, then let out a soft laugh. “Just last night.”

“Last night… Then, what about that coachman?” Qingluan was puzzled. She could not fathom why the young lord had returned earlier than expected. Was he not trying to avoid the family patriarch? What had changed for him to come back now?

She could not make sense of it: the young lord’s abrupt return, the sudden disappearance of the coachman, and the seamless replacement all happening without her knowledge. Something was off—deeply so.

Shouldn’t the first thing the young lord did upon returning be to seek her out? Why had he gone straight to the library at dawn instead?

Questions swirled in Qingluan’s mind, but her face remained composed.

Cheng Guang’s gaze was fathomless as he studied Qingluan. After a while, he spoke slowly. “Since I’ve returned, that coachman is of no further use. Can you guess where he is now?”

A jolt of fear ran through Qingluan, and she lowered her head even further.

“My lord, should you travel again in the future, you might need the coachman as a double to mislead others. It’s best not to kill him outright,” she ventured carefully.

Cheng Guang gave no reply. He strolled leisurely in front of her, pinched her fair, smooth cheek in his hand, and stared straight into her beautiful eyes, scrutinizing her without the slightest restraint.

“Don’t mention the coachman again,” he said. “Just now, you offered to warm my bed. Did you mean it?”

Qingluan was momentarily taken aback, surprise flickering in her heart.

Her looks were not merely above average—they were strikingly beautiful, unrivaled even in the capital. Yet despite her extraordinary appearance, the young lord had never so much as touched her before. On the rare occasions he did brush against her, he would fastidiously wipe the spot with silk, as if repulsed. Why, then, did he now bring up the topic of warming his bed?

Was his demeanor just a facade? Was this man before her truly the young lord?

Qingluan’s eyes glimmered with hidden calculation, but she quickly masked her thoughts with a sweet, obedient smile.

“Of course, my lord. Haven’t I warmed your bed many times before?” she replied, feigning a shy, demure wriggle.

As she spoke, her beautiful eyes remained fixed on Cheng Guang, as if searching his reaction for any hint of truth.

But her hopes were soon dashed.

Cheng Guang pinched her soft, jade-like cheek again, letting out a chuckle. “You’ve grown craftier in just a few days. Do you take me for that coachman? How many more times will you test me?”

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and only when Qingluan’s eyes began to betray her panic did he release her. With a hint of distaste, he took out a length of brocade silk and slowly wiped his elegant fingers.

Qingluan’s smile stiffened. She dared not question him further. “I wouldn’t presume, my lord. If you wish me to warm your bed, I will obey without hesitation.”

“Very well. Tonight, come to my room, clean and prepared, and lie in my bed,” Cheng Guang instructed plainly.

The words struck Qingluan dumb. She had not anticipated such a response, nor that the young lord truly wished her to share his bed. He had always recoiled at her touch; even the slightest contact seemed to repulse him.

Why did he want her now?

She was utterly bewildered.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” Cheng Guang added softly, his bearing dignified, his voice composed. He tossed the used silk casually to the floor and strode toward his chamber.

Even after his figure vanished within, Qingluan remained kneeling, as if unable to process what he had just said.

Her gaze drifted to the silk lying not far away, and she stared at it in a daze, her eyes narrowing slightly.

That brocade was the young lord’s personal possession. He always carried several pieces with him, each one woven from the silk of rare and exotic creatures—worth a fortune. Before he left, he had specifically warned her not to let the coachman touch them.

Thus, Qingluan had never mentioned the young lord’s habit to Cheng Guang. Even when there was silk in the room, he had never used it before.

Very few people knew of this, apart from her.

And now, after several days, the silk had reappeared before her eyes.

In that instant, all her confusion and doubts melted away.

So—

The man before her was truly the young lord.

His desire for her to warm his bed was likely a whim, nothing more. On rare occasions, he would show some interest in her, only to quickly lose it and cast her aside like refuse.

Qingluan took a long, steady breath, rose to her feet, and walked out of the courtyard.

Since the young lord had instructed her to come clean and prepared, she dared not disregard his command.

No sooner had she stepped outside than a tall, burly figure came striding toward her like a charging bull—it was Lin Cheng.

Qingluan regarded Lin Cheng with a complicated expression. Earlier, she had thought the young lord was still the coachman and had paid little heed to the man currying favor with him. But now she saw that this guard was truly blessed by fortune.

Her thoughts involuntarily returned to Cheng Guang. She wondered where the coachman was now.

She had pleaded for his life, urging the young lord not to kill him, but a double—especially one with the young lord’s exact appearance—was too great a risk to keep in the household. If anyone with ill intent took advantage of it, the consequences would be dire.

Cheng Guang’s days were surely numbered. When the young lord tired of his little game, the coachman’s end would come.

Perhaps the young lord’s early return signaled the end of his amusement, that he would no longer leave the estate.

Perhaps the coachman was already dead.

Qingluan’s thoughts were in turmoil. She shook her head quickly, forcing away such concerns. A mere coachman was not worth her worry.

The real issue was how to face the young lord tonight.

For the first time, Qingluan understood what the ministers at court meant when they said that serving the sovereign was like living alongside a tiger.

She hurried away.

Lin Cheng, who had arrived just then, noticed Qingluan’s brisk departure and scratched his head in confusion, feeling that she was somehow different from when they had first met that morning.

He could not fathom how Qingluan had changed so much in such a short span, but he did not dwell on it.

In Lin Cheng’s eyes, Qingluan was his greatest rival for the young lord’s favor—the chief obstacle in the contest for affection—because she could share the young lord’s bed, and he could not.

The thought made Lin Cheng a little despondent.

Why was it that only women could warm the bed?

He bristled with indignation. Was there any justice left in this world?

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