Barely five days into her marriage, Shen Peilan had not even had time to see which way the Xiao family gate opened before her husband, Xiao Du, leased her to He Lan Jing as his wife for three hundred taels of silver.
A small sedan chair carried her into the He Lan residence under cover of night.
Though still young, He Lan Jing had already taken the top seat at the Baoyuan Bureau and served as a Vice Minister of Works. He was the most powerful official at the emperor's side, and the capital's most celebrated gentleman.
Everyone said he was noble and spotless, but no one knew that in private, this seemingly untouchable official protected Shen Peilan so thoroughly that not even a draft could reach her.
Shen Peilan was a skilled physician, and she had long since noticed the medicinal scent that clung to He Lan Jing.
One night, while he slept, she reached for his wrist to take his pulse. He woke with a start and seized her wrist, demanding, “Who gave you permission to touch me?”
At last, after she cured the chronic illness that had plagued him, she packed her medicine chest and prepared to leave that very night.
He Lan Jing abruptly caught her slender wrist and rasped, “Three hundred taels. Lease me for one more night.”
She caught his fingers in return and shot back coldly, “Lord He Lan, your pulse is racing. This time, who gave you permission to touch me?”
