Chapter 7 : Masks and Motives

Chen Yanxing paused mid-motion when she saw the message.
“What’s up?” Ren Zhou asked, noticing her freeze.
Chen Yanxing shook her head, quickly typing three words.
[Client-LittleTaoist: No rush.]

Ren Zhou leaned back on the sofa, eyeing Chen Yanxing, who’d barged into her office, claimed her chair, and was now flipping through her desk files.
“So, you just walked out? No place to stay?”
“Nope,” Chen Yanxing replied.
“Your mom doesn’t care, and Chen Yanqing doesn’t either?”
“She wants to, but she can’t.”

Shen Mengke frowned at Chen Yanxing’s reply.
No rush? A catch like her wasn’t worth hurrying for? If she wasn’t in a hurry, why have the contract ready by afternoon after parting that morning?
Assuming Chen Yanxing was playing hard to get, Shen Mengke typed:
[I trust Miss Chen’s professionalism—no need to trap me in a contract. Signing takes a minute.]
[I’m tied up with the crew, no big gaps. Will Miss Chen deliver in person?]

“What’s your plan? Come clean to your mom?”
Chen Yanxing looked up, a trace of bitterness in her frown.
She met Ren Zhou’s eyes, dead serious.
“Are you crazy?”
Ren Zhou laughed.
“Then what? You can’t go home without confessing…”
She paused, reading Chen Yanxing’s expression, then added, “So what’s your move?”
Chen Yanxing sneered.
“You think confessing gets me back? My mother’s appetite is endless—she’d swallow your share too.”
Standing, she headed for the door.
“Same as always. When did you get so chatty?”

Ren Zhou laughed, exasperated.
“Chatty? I’m looking out for you! Hey, where to?”
“Finding a place.”
“It’s Du Junyi’s birthday tonight. She invited us. You in?”
Chen Yanxing didn’t answer, walking out.
Ren Zhou grinned, texting the group: [She’s going.]

Shen Mengke waited, growing impatient, tsking twice. Had she come on too strong and scared her off?

Jiang Ranran’s talk with Sunny wrapped up, and she headed to the makeup room. Shen Mengke glanced at the sky.
The recent rain left it overcast. The crew was setting up artificial rain for the next scene—a rain-soaked moment.
Jiangcheng’s summer was drenched; maybe Sunny chose this season for the rain.
As the set got back on track, Shen Mengke handed her phone to Xiao He.
It lit up with a message:
[Client-LittleTaoist: Fine, send an address.]

Xiao He glanced at it, seeing “Client” in the contact name. She almost called Shen Mengke but saw her deep in character and held back.
For Shen Mengke, the role was everything—once in, interruptions infuriated her. Even Fan Shi had been snapped at for disturbing her on set.

The storm-battered window was finally shut, locking out the biting wind. Shen Mengke’s body warmed, her trembling easing.
Maybe it wasn’t the cold making her shake.
The candle was relit, its glow steady. Shen Mengke faced a black-clad figure crouching before her, extending a hand.
She reached out—not for the hand, but the mask.

The terrifying mask came off, revealing a delicate face.
The figure smiled kindly, but her eyes held a playful, scrutinizing glint, like she was toying with a small animal.
Shen Mengke frowned—she’d seen that look too often—but let Xu Shinian’s grip pull her up.

“How’d you know it was me?” Xu Shinian asked, sitting across from her, curious.
Shen Mengke hesitated, lips pursed.
“When we met in the great hall… you had a distinct scent. I noticed it just now too.”
“It’s nice. I’ve never smelled it in Jiuli, so I remembered.”
Xu Shinian blinked, then smiled.
“It’s Snow Jade Incense, unique to Shen. I’m not the only one in the palace who uses it. If you like it, I’ll send you some tomorrow.”
Shen Mengke lowered her eyes, nodding.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Princess Li’s envoy arrives tomorrow,” Xu Shinian said, reaching to check a wound on Shen Mengke’s arm.
Shen Mengke grabbed her wrist, covering the barely lifted sleeve, stopping her.
Eyes down, she said softly, “So, Your Majesty only visits my chambers because Jiuli’s envoy arrives tomorrow, or…”
Her gaze flicked to the mask on the side.
“In this manner.”
She gave a mocking laugh, looking up at Xu Shinian, eyes brimming with tears.
“Your Majesty needn’t worry. They sent me for this marriage because I’m the most useless in Jiuli. My only value is this alliance.”
Xu Shinian faltered, at a loss for words.
“I’m not like my eldest sister, manipulating courts, or my other sisters, thriving in trade or war. I can’t even play music or dance…”
“Your Majesty, you don’t want me, and I don’t want this either. Let me waste away in this palace. As for Jiuli’s envoy tomorrow… I’d rather not see them.”

Shen Mengke spoke with a smile, but tears pooled, blurring her vision. She tilted her head, refusing to let them fall.
So stubborn.
Xu Shinian’s heart trembled but her voice hardened.
“You must meet Jiuli’s envoy. Shen is too chaotic now. If you refuse, Jiuli might stir trouble, and Shen can’t afford war.”
Shen Mengke stared, her eyes bitter.
“Even without their envoy, I’d come to you. It’s for your own good.”

Shen Mengke nodded, a faint smile.
“They said it was for my good when they sent me here too.”

In that moment, Lin Shutang’s pain and Shen Mengke’s own merged, a sour ache rising.
Tears overflowed, her eyes unable to hold them.

Lips pressed tight, her face defiant, but tears streamed uncontrollably.
Her head, held high, finally bowed, tears dripping onto her hands.

The camera panned from her clenched skirt to her tear-filled eyes. Long lashes held glistening drops, fluttering like rain-soaked butterfly wings.
Candlelight danced on her face, lashes casting shadows, hiding endless sorrow…

“Perfect!”
Sunny’s voice cut through, followed by thunderous applause. Even Xu Shinian clapped.
Shen Mengke, eyes still teary, smiled shyly, but her heart ached.

“For your own good, Keke.”
Her mother had said the same when she abandoned her.