Chapter 37: Hunting the Tiger

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Entering the inner chamber, Pan Xiaowan did not rush to fetch the wine. Her steps suddenly grew light and brisk, as if she were strolling beneath a starry sky. This was the “Yu step,” an ancient and unique dance step even older than the circular and cloud steps of traditional opera. It was a creation of ancient shamans, now nearly lost to time.

She moved forward as if gliding, sideways like drifting, then with a graceful twirl, she slid right up to the carved wardrobe. Madam Pan opened it, changed her clothes, then floated to the dressing table to touch up her makeup beautifully.

The mirror reflected a delicate, blooming face, eyebrows like distant mountains, eyes holding the depth of autumn waters—at the perfect age of “twenty years of spring breeze and peach blossoms.” She took up a stick of black eyebrow powder, carefully shaping her brows, then dabbed a bit of rouge with her fingertip, pressing it onto her lips.

Her lips first pressed into a fine line, then blossomed again, full and petal-like, colored vividly like ripe peaches and plums. Pouting, she blew a kiss to her reflection, then reached into the bottom of her makeup box for a fragrant sachet.

She first pulled out something from the sachet, gently tore it open, then tucked it back inside, hanging the sachet at her waist. Finally, she tightened the golden hairpin before retrieving the ox horn wine and gracefully walking out.

After the servant Lai Xi was sent away, there was no one left even to serve tea, leaving Yang Can to sit idly in his chair. After a long wait, his patience waned, and just as he was about to rise, Madam Pan stepped out from behind the folding screen.

She wore a coral-red ruqun dress, the fabric light and soft, hugging her body perfectly—the waist was slim, the hips curved exquisitely. Her figure was truly stunning, as if even the air itself took shape around her, flowing like water in endless grace.

“Uncle, this is the premium medicinal wine sent by the Master of Feng’an Manor to the old man. It’s said to be extremely nourishing,” Pan Xiaowan said, her voice three parts softer and thrice more alluring than usual.

Gone was the disdain and impatience she had shown toward Yang Can in front of Li Youcai. She brought over the large ox horn, already warm and translucent like jade after brewing, placing it gently on the small table beside Yang Can. Then she fetched two cups, thin as cicada wings and jade-colored.

“The older the old man gets, the more afraid he is that others will know his decline. For the sake of face, he gave all this wine to you. I heard this wine is best for strengthening the root and nourishing the source. Sister-in-law, one sip won’t harm you, right?”

Yang Can replied awkwardly, “It’s certainly fine.”

Pan Xiaowan smiled sweetly, pulled the stopper from the ox horn, and poured two cups of wine. She carried them gracefully to Yang Can, handing him one.

Yang Can was about to stand, but Madam Pan’s expression stopped him. She bent at the slender waist, smiling softly at him, extending the cup with her finger lightly scented with cardamom.

The pale red liquid in the cup gave off the fragrance of wine and herbs. The wine swayed gently in the cup, and the gleam in Madam Pan’s eyes flickered with it. Her gaze was deep and dark, as if it could drown a man.

Yang Can accepted the cup. Madam Pan clinked her cup against his, her red lips parting slightly: “Uncle, please accompany sister-in-law and drink this cup.”

Yang Can swirled the cup, sniffed deeply with a look of delight, but did not drink. Madam Pan giggled and coyly gave him a reproachful glance: “Are you worried I’ve drugged you? Really now.”

She teased him as she raised the cup high, above her head, then tilted her head back and opened her mouth. The line of wine poured accurately into her mouth.

Madam Pan drained the cup, then looked at Yang Can with a teasing smile.

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Yang Can exhaled in relief and then drank the wine in one swallow.

Madam Pan stepped closer, winking at Yang Can: “How’s the wine?”

“Tastes good,” he replied.

Madam Pan moved even closer: “Then... does it have the effect of strengthening the root and nourishing the source?”

As she spoke, her hand naturally rested on Yang Can’s shoulder, her gaze sidelong, filled with barely contained desire.

Yang Can smiled wryly: “Sister-in-law, even if this wine is medicinal, it’s still wine. It can’t work that fast.”

Madam Pan chuckled: “True enough, I’m just impatient.”

She had stepped forward twice, facing Yang Can directly, and now stood between his legs. Yang Can sat while she stood; if he looked up, the view would be awkward, so he kept his gaze level.

But that meant all he could see was a slender waist as supple as a serpent’s. A purple silk ribbon was tied around it, with a fragrant sachet hanging from it. The scent was surprisingly pleasant.

Suddenly, Yang Can felt his vision blur slightly—and worse, it wasn’t just his eyes.

He had no idea the wine was unaltered; the sachet at Madam Pan’s waist was the true weapon.

The herbs within were also medicinal, a secret concoction of the shamans with remarkable effects.

Now, Madam Pan stood close, while Yang Can remained seated. The sachet hanging at her waist was practically under his nose.

Without the mingling of wine and herbal aroma, Yang Can wouldn’t have noticed the unique fragrance from the sachet.

Seeing Yang Can start to succumb, Madam Pan smiled softly. She had wanted to proceed slowly, hoping for mutual consent and joy.

But this young man, though young, had considerable resolve; if she delayed, who knew how long she’d have to wait.

She had been courting this handsome young secretary for over three months and no longer wished to wait.

“Snap!”

Madam Pan snatched the empty cup from Yang Can’s hand, set it on the table, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

...

At the crowing of the rooster at dawn, Yang Can awoke. Everything that had happened the night before seemed natural; he had never realized he had fallen into Madam Pan’s trap.

Because the herbs merely stirred natural desires, his consciousness had remained clear throughout, and he remembered all the details.

Since that was the case, he could only blame himself for lacking restraint.

Reviewing the night’s battle, he could sum it up with a phrase from Feng Yuxiu: “A contest of mastery, a matter of life and death!”

When Yang Can awoke, Madam Pan was already up, having thoughtfully prepared a sumptuous breakfast for him.

He accepted her care calmly, without regret.

He never lamented what had already occurred, as doing so only drained his emotions without benefit.

Moreover, if Madam Pan became someone very close to him, it would be a great advantage.

He had always felt this woman was not a mere decorative vase, not easily won over, which was why he kept his distance.

Now that it had happened, he chose to let things take their natural course.

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While Madam Pan attentively served Yang Can breakfast, he suddenly remembered something.

He slapped his forehead: “Oh no, after Lai Xi returned yesterday…”

Madam Pan smiled charmingly: “Lai Xi belongs to my household, even Wang Cai does. Young master need not worry.”

Pan Xiaowan was a clever woman; by revealing Lai Xi’s background, she preempted any suspicion Yang Can might have about Wang Cai. If he intended to be wary, he would naturally be cautious of Wang Cai in the future.

So it was more gracious to be straightforward.

Yang Can breathed a sigh of relief but a thought lingered: this woman was truly not simple.

How could someone like her be merely a caged golden sparrow kept by Steward Li in the inner chambers?

Within this main branch’s grand estate, dragons and tigers lay hidden.

After breakfast, as Madam Pan sent Yang Can off, her radiant face was full of life.

Like a parched flower branch bathed overnight in spring rain, she blossomed with vibrant vitality.

As for Yang Can...

Everyone knew that those who walked within the “Sage Realm” were usually devoid of sorrow or joy, desire or longing.

A sage needed a strong heart, unshaken even by the collapse of mountains.

So it was perfectly normal that Yang Can’s heart was as calm as still water.

At this moment, Pan Xiaowan’s body and spirit were both fulfilled, her heart blooming with joy.

She had approached Yang Can without intentions of using him.

She never believed he would become a pivotal figure in the entire Yu family’s main branch.

She simply liked this handsome young secretary, wishing to build the purest, simplest relationship.

Her life was already complicated; she had feelings and flesh and blood.

Sometimes, she too wanted to cast aside all burdens and find a harbor where she could completely relax.

And now, she felt she had found it.

Smiling brightly as she watched the delectable man step out of her home, Madam Pan reluctantly withdrew her gaze.

Her eyes shifted to a branch of apricot blossoms peeking over the wall in the corner.

Madam Pan smiled, sweet as that apricot flower.

When Yang Can returned to his residence, he still thought about how he had not returned all night or even informed Wang Cai.

Should he tell the truth or concoct an excuse if Wang Cai asked?

Unexpectedly, Wang Cai was drawing water at the well when he saw his steward return. He greeted Yang Can with a bright smile and asked nothing.

“A visitor came? Who could it be so early?”

Yang Can heard Wang Cai’s vague explanation and intended to inquire more, but seeing Wang Cai struggling with the well’s crank, he gave up. He would see for himself upon entering.

Approaching the main hall, Yang Can saw a tall figure standing with his back to the door.

He wore a soil-yellow headband tied in a knot at the back.

In his hand he carried a wild goose feather saber, standing like a mountain—majestic and imposing.

Such an overwhelming presence made Yang Can half expect the man to suddenly turn and reveal the face of Zhu Yanping or Ding Haifeng.

Then, with a dramatic flourish, he might declare: “Sister-in-law, Wu Er has something to say!”