The carriage was filled with a serene silence that lasted for half an incense stick's worth of time. Yuan Shu gaped as she looked at the bandit miss who was pretending to be delicate. For the first time, she felt that the people of Southern Jin possessed unparalleled wisdom in their distant and respectful attitude towards Ren Anle. It seemed that her young miss was born without the knowledge of the word 'fear'. Carefully, she turned her head to look at the Crown Prince, only to catch sight of a pair of eyes as dark and profound as night. In an instant, she lowered her head and began to play with her fingers intently ... like she heard nothing, saw nothing.
Although Yuan Qin's expression was also tense, she relaxed slightly after seeing Yuan Shu's useless fidgeting. however, her gaze seemed to be stuck on the tea set she was playing with in her hand and she simply refused to lift her eyes.
Han Ye narrowed his eyes and the half closed pages of the book in his hand rustled. he could clearly see Ren Anle half wrapped in a quilt with disheveled black hair, a lingering mist of just waking up in her eyes and blatant provocation lazily yet sharply displayed.
With a slight curl of his lips he threw the book into the corner and suddenly stood up. Before anyone could react, he reached across a wooden table and lifted up Ren Anle's long hair, his slender fingers caressing each strand of her dark hair as they fell upon her neck. He moved closer and closer, his dark eyes fixed upon her, unblinking.
Yuan Shu covered her eyes with a few fingers, leaving just enough space for her to state wide- eyed open at the scene before her. She held her breath, afraid to even take a single gasp of air. With a trembling in her hand, Yuan Qin spilled a few drops of tea from her porcelain cup.
A distance of one foot is too dangerous! The old man once said that people are deceitful and one should leave three-tenths of one's guard up when dealing with them. On the battlefield one must not let others cross the blade of one's enemy's sword.
Ren Anle blinked her eyes and recited the ancestral teaching of the Anle fortress in her heart over ten times. However, she still couldn't bear to break away from Han Ye's seemingly weak and powerless wrist. The hot breath fell on her face as the man's intertwined breath lingered. His thin lips lightly pursed, his eyebrows as black as ink, and the upturned phoenix eyes deep with such profound emotions.
Oh my, Father, why didn't you say before taking your last breath that the imperial capitals talented young beauties are is truly overwhelming!
Silence pervaded inside the carriage as Han Ye watched the blush slowly engulf Ren Anle's fair neck and cheeks. A faint curve formed at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, enunciating each word clearly.
"Ren daren, the concubines of the Eastern Palace, like the weak water of the three thousand rivers, though not as bold and unrestrained as you, each possesses a gentle and graceful demeanour, with extraordinary beauty and elegance. It is what this humble one admires. If Ren daren were to enter the ranks of the Eastern Palace, it would be feared that the disparity would be far apart."
(three thousand weak water - is often used to describe a beautiful but unrestrained woman, or a situation that is desirable but out of reach.)