Volume One, Chapter 13: Does He Like the Scent She Wears?

“Your Highness, please go and bathe first.”
Feeling uneasy, Xiang Zhu approached Zhao Ye, her voice softening somewhat.

The familiar scent that always comforted him drew near, gradually calming Zhao Ye’s restless mind.

He nodded obediently and followed Xiang Zhu to the bathing chamber.

Each prince’s chamber had a private bathing area, essentially a screened-off space containing a wooden tub heated by a firewood stove underneath.

The attentive eunuch Yuanbao had already ordered water replenished and more firewood added, so the temperature was just right now.

“Your Highness, would you like someone to assist you?”

Xiang Zhu asked deliberately, her guess needing confirmation before drawing conclusions.

Since this concerned the Fourth Prince, she could not afford to be reckless.

If it was confirmed that the Fourth Prince was genuinely disgusted by a certain scent, she could consider how to make use of this information.

Zhao Ye looked at Xiang Zhu, his tone faint and teasing, “Do you think I can’t bathe myself?”

Xiang Zhu: ...

“Then please begin your bath, I will help make the bed anew.”

Returning to the bedchamber, Xiang Zhu opened the windows to air out the lingering unpleasant smell. Knowing the Fourth Prince’s unusual sensitivity was a rare secret, she could only replace the soiled bedding herself and fetch fresh linens.

She carried the dirty bedding to the outer room and summoned waiting palace servants to take them for washing.

After tidying the room, she glanced at the hourglass; it was already past the middle of the third watch. She looked toward the screen partition.

Why had the Fourth Prince not finished bathing yet?

Xiang Zhu called out in a raised voice, “Fourth Prince.”

No response came from the bathing chamber, only faint rustling sounds could be heard.

Frowning and biting her lip, hesitating briefly, compelled by the urgent thought of “If something happens to my master, I’ll be doomed,” she stepped around the screen into the bathing chamber.

Amidst the misty steam, Zhao Ye was furiously scrubbing himself with a ceramic brush.

Xiang Zhu’s expression shifted slightly as she quickly moved forward and took the brush from his hand, whispering, “Your Highness, please stop, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Up close, she saw his skin reddened from vigorous scrubbing, some areas faintly streaked with blood.

---

Zhao Ye clutched the brush tightly, refusing to let go, quietly gazing at Xiang Zhu.

Meeting his moist eyes, Xiang Zhu’s mind involuntarily recalled a small Pekingese dog, abandoned in the garden, hiding in the bushes, timidly watching her with watery eyes.

“You’re already clean, let me help you get dressed.”

Xiang Zhu soothed softly.

“Clean?” Zhao Ye deliberately raised his arm above the water and tilted his head to look at her. “But I still find it unbearable.”

“Can you help me wash it away?”

“Help me wash off this unpleasant scent.”

Xiang Zhu confirmed it: Zhao Ye truly detested the smell lingering on Shuang Yun.

Though unaware of what Shuang Yun had done that night to provoke Zhao Ye’s unusual reaction, Xiang Zhu resolved to keep silent and follow his instructions.

As she gently cupped warm water and poured it over his arm, Zhao Ye, with his head slightly bowed, faintly smiled.

So, Sister Xiang Zhu’s heart was not as cold as she appeared.

Xiang Zhu dared not use the brush again; she could only use her hands to softly cleanse his arm and back once more.

“The front hasn’t been washed yet.” Zhao Ye grasped Xiang Zhu’s hand and guided it to his chest.

Pulled off balance, Xiang Zhu nearly stumbled but steadied herself by gripping the tub’s edge.

The steaming heat enveloped her feet, tinting her fair skin with a rosy blush.

Biting her lip, Xiang Zhu withdrew her hand and fixed her gaze on one spot. This time, she took a silk cloth, moistened it, and gently wiped Zhao Ye clean.

Though she could no longer feel the softness of Xiang Zhu’s hands gliding over his skin, Zhao Ye closed his eyes and quietly sighed with comfort.

Lost in thought, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

As Xiang Zhu’s persistent cloth brushed haphazardly, the back of her hand lightly touched his skin.

A gentle, delicate touch that made Zhao Ye’s body tense, nearly forgetting how to breathe.

He thought to himself, he might have made a very unwise decision.

A tingling warmth surged into his heart, spreading through his limbs and veins, joyfully flowing amidst the steaming water’s embrace.

When Zhao Ye opened his eyes, he instinctively clenched Xiang Zhu’s wrist.

Xiang Zhu met his gaze.

---

Having soaked in the water for so long, Zhao Ye’s face was as pale as powder, his eyes bright and clear, reflecting her image vividly.

Aware of her transgression, Xiang Zhu lowered her gaze to avoid his face, yet her eyes lingered on his creamy skin, the rippling water dancing across his six-pack abs.

The reflected candlelight seemed to sting her eyes, forcing her to close them tightly.

They were too close; Zhao Ye naturally understood why Xiang Zhu shut her eyes so tightly. He thought it must be the firewood’s intense heat burning his skin, urging him to leave the tub soon and cool down.

So close, their heartbeat, breaths, and the gentle ripple of the water intertwined.

Feeling the burning heat on her skin, Xiang Zhu gently pushed Zhao Ye away.

She lifted a large, pristine sweat towel, hiding behind it, and softly reminded him, “Your Highness, it’s time to dry off.”

The water in the tub splashed noisily as a wave of steam rolled over them; she tiptoed and draped the towel over Zhao Ye’s shoulders.

“I take my leave.”

Exiting the inner chamber, Xiang Zhu saw Shuang Yun kneeling weakly by the screen, dressed in pale pink, her hair loose, looking delicate and frail.

Hearing footsteps, Shuang Yun thought it was Zhao Ye, and lifted her tear-streaked face, adopting a pitiful, charming demeanor.

Seeing Xiang Zhu instead, Shuang Yun glared fiercely. She intended to mock Xiang Zhu but noticed her clothes were damp, turning pale with shock.

“What… What did you do with His Highness just now?”

Xiang Zhu did not wish to engage further and did not give her a single glance.

Shuang Yun wanted to follow her out, but knowing the Fourth Prince had not yet seen her current state, she could only assume the fragile willow posture again and weep silently.

Lying on the bed, Xiang Zhu could not sleep for a long time. She thought she might understand why the Fourth Prince was so peculiar about her.

That passionate, tender night, before her consciousness was drugged, Zhao Ye had held her waist, kissed her, and murmured how fragrant she was—words still ringing in her ears.

At first, Xiang Zhu had thought Zhao Ye’s confusion was caused by the effect of the hehuan incense.

But today, as they stood close while she washed him, she saw a familiar expression on his face.

Zhao Ye… liked the scent on her?