Page 11 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

Yun-jia grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the boat. “Comeon, the light’s perfect! Brother Ting-zhi promised to tell us stories about his travels!”

Ting-zhi fell into step behind them with Yun-hai. “Did I promise that?” he asked Yun-hai.

“You did,” Yun-hai said firmly. “You said you’d tell us about the swordfights and the bandits and the mysterious temples!”

Ting-zhi laughed, rich and warm, and Yun-si’s traitorous pulse did thatflipagain. He leaned in, voice dropping to aconspirator’s hush. “Relax, Si-er. We’ll get to do your research. Patience is a virtue.”

Her ears burned. “I don’t—”

The boatman cleared his throat. “Young masters, young ladies. The tide waits for no one.”

Ting-zhi offered Yun-si his hand to with a flourish. “After you.”

She glared at his outstretched sleeve and knowing smile. Then, because she had no choice, she took it—

—and immediately regretted it when his fingers curled around hers, warm andbig, beneath the cover of his robe.

The boat pushed off from the dock and the lake swallowed the sounds of the shore. Water lapped gently against the hull. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out. The autumn air was crisp and clean, carrying the faint sweetness of fallen leaves.

Yun-si settled near the middle, tucking her skirts around her. Ting-zhi sat across from her, not too close, not too far. The children arranged themselves around them: Yun-hai at the bow, Yun-jia on the blanket beside her, Wen-xin in his corner with his pastry fortress.

For a while, it was simply... pleasant. The gentle rocking, the golden light, the children chattering. Yun-hai peppered Ting-zhi with questions almost immediately.

“Brother Ting-zhi, why is the water blue?”

“It reflects the sky.”

“But it’s not the same blue as the sky.”

“No. The water has its own color too. They mix.”

“Oh.” Yun-hai considered this with great seriousness. “What about at night? Is it black?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s silver, if the moon is full.”

“Have you ever seen a dragon?”

Ting-zhi paused. Tilted his head, as if genuinely considering the question. “I’ve seen something in the water that moved, too large to be a fish.”

Yun-hai’s eyes went enormous. “REALLY?”

“Mm.” Ting-zhi’s expression was perfectly straight. “In a river up north. Very dark. Very deep.”

“Third Sister, did you hear that? Dragons are real!”

But Yun-si had drifted off again, mesmerized by the light flickering on the lapping water.

“Si-er.”

She looked up. Ting-zhi was watching her with an expression that was half amusement, half something softer. The one that saidI caught you again.

“Yun-hai asked you a question,” he said mildly.

“Did he?” She turned to her brother, who was staring at her with the long-suffering patience of someone accustomed to this. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said the DRAGON—”

“Ah. Yes. The dragon.” She nodded seriously, as if she had been listening the entire time.