Chapter 9: A Lavish Gamble
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Shen Ruo Jin still wore a smile on her face, the tassels on her hairpins swaying and fluttering with her movements. At this moment, her heart pounded like a drum. Having practiced martial arts for many years, she had no experience in flirting with others. Suddenly, when Qin Lang wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace, she thought to herself that such closeness was normal for newlyweds. Yet, her body reacted faster than her thoughts. She hooked her arm around Qin Lang's neck and flung him away.
With Qin Lang thrown into the air, the table crashed with a loud noise as it broke apart. Only then did Shen Ruo Jin suddenly remember that this was her newlywed husband, not some scoundrel she wanted to fight. Prince Qin was a noble of unparalleled status—he must not be harmed.
She forced herself to restrain her move and pulled him back.
Despite this, Qin Lang stubbornly refused to let go. Gripping Shen Ruo Jin’s wrist tighter, he pivoted and stepped on a wooden chair. The force was too great, and the chair immediately collapsed beneath him.
In an instant, the entire private chamber was in disarray. Tables and chairs were scattered, pearl curtains and gauze hangings were shaken loose, blocking the view of the onlookers outside.
Qin Lang pressed Shen Ruo Jin against the window, leaning in slightly to whisper in her ear, “Are you trying to murder your husband, Shen Ruo Jin?”
Shen Ruo Jin withdrew her hand, wanting to put some distance between them, but his arm around her waist held her firmly. She could only lean back until her back touched the windowsill. After a moment of tension, she almost laughed.
“Sorry,” she stifled a smile. “It’s my first marriage; I’m not used to being so close to a man. How about we start over…”
As she spoke, Qin Lang suddenly leaned in, his thin lips mere millimeters from hers. If she lifted her head, he would kiss her.
So close, his warm breath washed over her, full of an aggressive intimacy.
Shen Ruo Jin kept her composure, watching Qin Lang silently. This time she didn’t throw him away, but her hand on the window frame tightened involuntarily.
Seventh Brother was right—getting married and falling in love were far harder than fighting battles.
“No, no fighting allowed!”
Xiao He, the steward standing guard outside, hurried in to intervene.
“Breaking furniture is one thing, but newlyweds quarreling is serious. You can’t really go at it!”
The troupe leader, alarmed by the crashing noise that shook the whole building, rushed in to stop them.
The two men parted the pearl curtains anxiously and rushed into the chamber, only to find no fighting—just Qin Lang holding the new bride against the window.
“I didn’t see anything!”
“Sorry to disturb!”
Both Xiao He and the troupe leader said simultaneously, their faces flushed with embarrassment as they hurriedly retreated, unwilling to scrutinize whether the couple was kissing or doing something else.
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Though Shen Ruo Jin and Qin Lang had done nothing improper, the two men outside made such a fuss as if the couple had committed an indecent act in this private chamber of the theater, where others were both on stage and in the audience.
Slightly embarrassed, Shen Ruo Jin raised her hand to push Qin Lang but worried she might use too much force. She instead poked his chest lightly with her index finger, moving him just a little away.
Qin Lang laughed softly, releasing his hold on her waist, then turned toward the door. “Now that we’re here, why leave?”
“You two are busy, I don’t want to be in the way,” the troupe leader said, about to dash downstairs.
But Qin Lang’s call stopped him. The troupe leader, a middle-aged man who had seen many frivolous noble scions, still felt awkward witnessing this scene.
This young couple’s habits were certainly peculiar!
Being affectionate was one thing, but why break furniture and kick chairs? The commotion was simply too loud.
The audience below, eager for entertainment, watched curiously as the two rushed in and then hurriedly retreated, whispering among themselves.
“What’s going on inside?”
“Nothing, nothing,” the troupe leader said with a subtle expression but kept his lips sealed.
Xiao He retreated behind a pillar, lowering his head. “Second Master, what are your orders? It wouldn’t do for outsiders to see this. Please instruct me if there’s anything.”
“What are you thinking?” Qin Lang stepped forward leisurely, using a folding fan to lift the curtain and look outside. “Send someone to clean up and replace everything.”
“Yes, yes,” the troupe leader replied repeatedly, stealing a glance at Qin Lang. His belt was intact but his collar was a bit disheveled, likely from the sudden scuffle earlier that ruined the prince’s plans.
Frustrated, the troupe leader slapped his thigh. “All your fault—why run so fast?”
“Master Huang, your tables and chairs aren’t sturdy. One bump and they fall apart. Better replace them with something stronger…”
Xiao He said as he pulled the troupe leader away.
Inside the chamber was a mess. Qin Lang walked to the railing and glanced at the crowd below, casually waving his fan with a carefree smile. “Enjoy the show. Why look at me? Want me to bring you a chair and sit with you?”
On stage, the performers were enchanting—beautiful and talented. Yet the audience frequently glanced up at the newlyweds, whispering among themselves.
A familiar dandy laughed and replied, “No matter how good the play is, it’s nothing compared to Prince Qin amusing his new bride.”
Qin Lang looked at him. “I’d enjoy hitting you more. Want to try?”
“Just joking, just joking…” The man immediately raised his hands in surrender, smiling sheepishly.
Last night, all the prime minister’s sons had been beaten by Qin Lang and carried home. This little devil was serious when he said he’d fight, so no one dared provoke him.
With this outburst, the crowd below no longer dared to look up at the second floor.
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Shen Ruo Jin stepped out slowly and stood by the railing on the second floor with Qin Lang.
Light and shadow danced within the building, and the melodious singing from the stage made it hard to tell day from night, or what year it was.
On stage, “Begonia Red” captivated everyone, occasionally casting a glance toward the second floor, full of charm.
Those autumnal, shimmering eyes—who could not be utterly enchanted?
Shen Ruo Jin watched the graceful beauty on stage and quietly asked the man beside her, “Qin Lang, is throwing money around fun?”
“Just so-so,” he replied.
Qin Lang was of noble birth, possessing power and wealth that most could never obtain in their lifetime. He was born to it. Spending a fortune overnight was no big deal—just added to his reputation as a rake.
But since Shen Ruo Jin asked, it was not a casual question.
He raised an eyebrow. “You want to play?”
She nodded. “Yes, let’s play…”
At that moment, the play neared its end. Begonia Red flicked her water sleeves and gracefully took her final bow.
The audience erupted in applause, scrambling to toss rewards onto the stage—gold, silver, fragrant sachets, money pouches, and more. An elderly man, caught up in excitement, even flung a jade thumb ring he wore.
Shen Ruo Jin touched her waist, unable to find a suitable valuable to throw.
“Here.” Qin Lang casually pulled a luminous pearl from his sleeve and handed it to her.
She took it, toyed with it briefly, then returned it. “This won’t do. I have strong hands—if I break the pearl, it’s a pity. If I hurt the beauty, that’s even worse.”
“This flower will do.” She said, plucking a begonia from a nearby vase and tossing it onto the stage.
Among all the valuable offerings from the audience, Begonia Red was the only one to catch the begonia flower thrown by Shen Ruo Jin.
The heavily made-up actress looked up to the second floor and locked eyes with the newlywed Qin Princess.
Someone in the audience jeered, “In the capital, people always throw gold, silver, and jade when rewarding performers. Just tossing a flower—what’s that about?”
Shen Ruo Jin’s expression was calm and composed. “I give you begonia in return for begonia. Let this flower be our token—a price for your freedom.”