Page 33 of The Hopeless Romantic’s Guide to Enchantment

Too curious to wait, Feifei jumped from the window and landed lightly next to Brother Shuang.

“Please tell me you didn’t store those in your spring pouch,” she said, voice dry.

He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, of course not.” He cleared his throat then offered the cakes, which were moulded in the shape of plum blossoms.

“I made these myself,” he said.

She held the cake under her mask. It didn’t stink of sweat, so she took a bite. The pastry was rich and flaky and the filling had a sweet crunch. “Delicious, thank you.”

“So? Don’t keep me waiting.”

She laughed. “We got the testimony. It was in the magistrate’s painting.”

His eyes crinkled. “Excellent. Now we need to figure out who we can trust in the Court of Judicial Review.”

Feifei shook her head. “This has to go straight to the Emperor. Otherwise, another person will end up framed and executed, along with his whole family. We can’t risk that. My father can get it to him.”

Brother Shuang nodded. “Alright, I’ll leave it with you.” He looked down at his hands, suddenly nervous. “I… I know who you are.”

Feifei instinctively backed away. “What do you mean?”

He pulled off his mask, revealing Lord Xingzhou. She stared at him for a heartbeat, uncomprehending, then fled.

“Wait!” Lord Xingzhou shouted after her.

She ignored him, kept running. How could that weak, pigeon-shouldered scholar be Brother Shuang?

“Yiyao!”

The name from her childhood, the name she’d used when she was Master Sun’s disciple, the name that tugged at the tenderest parts of her heart; how did he know? She turned.

Lord Xingzhou held his hands out, as if trying to reassure a skittish kitten. “Please don’t run. It’s me, Fan Tong. I’ve been looking for you for years.” Tears filled his eyes. “You just disappeared. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”

“You’re Fan Tong? But you sound so different. And when did you become a Lord?”

“Master Sun arranged for his friend Lord Liu to adopt and raise me. Fan Tong was my nickname.” He smiled shyly, that grin full of moonbeams from the first day they met.

She ran to him, heart in her throat.

“Call me Xingzhou.” His hands trembled as he reached for hers. With a soft sob, he pulled her into his arms.

He smelled like stars and moonlight, crushed pine and the deep musky scent of oud.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” His words were warm against her neck, sending shivers straight to her core.

He held her tight; Feifei knew she should put distance between them, but her legs refused to obey. In the end, he was the one to move away, though he interlaced his fingers with hers, keeping that point of connection.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked.

He glanced away, uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to… um, well…”

Feifei remem bered the way he’d looked at his hands on her breasts, that odd expression when she sent him flying. She hadn’t imagined it. Her qi reserves had indeed been too drained to maintain the buffer she needed to protect her identity. But for him to connect Yiyao with her meant… “You knew, even back then?”

Sheepishly, he nodded. “That first day after school, I followed you back to your mistress. You were staying in the temple reserved for women, so I started to wonder. And then you kept crossing your hands the wrong way in zuoyi, and every time you went to pee, you were always nervous and would hide if anyone saw you. So I guessed you must be a girl masquerading as a boy.”

A surge of affection filled Feifei. “You always made sure the toilet was empty, always reminded me about my hands. Later, you never let me get out of the hot springs unless we were alone.”

Brother Shuang’s face went bright red. “It was becoming difficult not to notice your…” His gaze darted to Feifei’s chest and immediately away.