Chapter 35

Lu Feng took a small sip and said, “It’s not hot.”

“You have thick skin, husband. What doesn’t feel hot to you is scalding to me,” Jiang Wanrou retorted stubbornly. “I want a cool cup.”

Lu Feng got up and switched to another teapot, but Jiang Wanrou still claimed it was too hot. After several rounds of this, he might have thought she was inventing new ways to tease him—if not for her earnest expression.

“How about I blow on it for you?” he offered.

Lu Feng gently blew on the rim of the cup for a moment, and finally, it was to Jiang Wanrou’s liking. She squinted her eyes in satisfaction as she drank it all in one go, handing the empty cup back to him.

“More,” she demanded.

Lu Feng poured her another cup and cooled it down as before.

“Husband, more,” she said again.

By the third time, as Lu Feng took the cup from her, he traced the rim with his fingers and remarked ambiguously, “You’ve gotten quite adept at ordering me around these days.”

Jiang Wanrou’s heart skipped a beat, and she awkwardly said, “Isn’t it because Cui Zhu and Jintao aren’t around? Are your hands tired, husband? Let me massage them for you.”

She diligently massaged Lu Feng’s wrist while glancing at his expression.

The first time she said it was hot, she hadn’t thought much—it truly was hot. By the time she realized, Lu Feng had already taken a sip and cooled the tea for her, leaving Jiang Wanrou astonished.

Lu Feng had the typical quirks of a nobleman: a love for cleanliness and never sharing tea cups with others. Jiang Wanrou used to scoff at this, thinking of how they intertwined intimately on the bed, sharing countless kisses without him showing any disdain. Yet, once dressed, he became the epitome of decorum, as if he didn’t recognize her. Ah, men.

Cursing inwardly, Jiang Wanrou had never violated Lu Feng’s taboos. Every table in Jinguang Courtyard was equipped with his exclusive cups, which were boiled daily and replaced monthly. After all, the Lu family had plenty of silver and didn’t lack money for a few sets of tea cups.

Now that Lu Feng was sharing a cup with her, Jiang Wanrou’s drowsiness vanished, and she cautiously tested the waters.

Recently, as they spent more time together, Jiang Wanrou could sense that Lu Feng’s attitude toward her had changed. However, she wasn’t sure how special this “change” truly was.

She wanted to find out.

Lu Feng allowed her to hold his wrist and massage it. His wrist was strong and firm, like steel and iron, while Jiang Wanrou’s hands were delicate and soft, poking at him repeatedly. It felt less like a massage and more like tickling.

“No messing around.” He grasped her hand and said in a calm tone, “Lately, you’ve become increasingly unruly.”

His words were stern, but his tone carried little reproach.

Jiang Wanrou couldn’t quite grasp his intentions, but she was the type to seize an opportunity when it presented itself. She lifted his hand and placed it on her round belly. Before she could speak, Lu Feng casually remarked: “Is it kicking again?”

Jiang Wanrou: “…”

Lu Feng gently touched her belly twice and said, “After I leave, don’t spend your days listening to opera scripts. Have someone read you the Four Books and Five Classics. Our child must not grow up to be a wastrel.”

Jiang Wanrou readily agreed, “Don’t worry, husband, I’ll do as you say.”

Lu Feng chuckled softly, though it was unclear if he believed her. His calloused hand lingered on her belly, tracing downward from her navel.

“Husband?” she called out.

Jiang Wanrou was suddenly startled; her bulky body was not quite cooperating; she anxiously grabbed his arm.

“Scared now?” With a half-smile that bordered on seriousness, Lu Feng said, “I always thought you were fearless—unafraid of anything—even daring to tease your husband.”

“It’s only because I know you treat me so well that I dare to joke with you,” she replied.

Plaintively, Jiang Wanrou added, “If you don’t like it, my husband, I promise I won’t dare do it again. I’m timid—please, don’t scare me.”

“Do you still get scared sometimes?” Lu Feng asked, his gaze heavy as he stared at her. “There is no one as affected as you. But never mind—for when I return from Jiangnan, you and I, as husband and wife, will sit down and settle our accounts properly.”

He glanced at the travel bag Jiang Wanrou had prepared for his journey south and noticed the jade disc she had quietly slipped inside. A warmth softened his heart—having such a wife, what more could a man ask for?

Suddenly, he was sharply reminded that this wasn’t his first long journey. Whenever he set out in the past, she always showed such tender reluctance and thoughtfully prepared his clothes—but never quite like this time.

As soon as that box was opened, without him needing to say a word, Xiao Qi by its side repeatedly exclaimed, “The lady’s heart for the master is nothing but pure sincerity!”

Having witnessed true affection, who could mistake it for pretense? Could it be that she had always merely been putting on an act, acting perfunctorily toward him in the past?

In an instant, Lu Feng’s expression turned into a kaleidoscope of colors. He set aside his official business and returned to the mansion, determined to question this woman—to really interrogate her thoroughly…

He thought a great deal along the way.

Hurriedly traveling back, when he finally saw her serene sleeping face, he suddenly felt that none of it mattered anymore. An absurd thought filled his mind: let her sleep soundly.

She said she was thirsty. He poured water for her.

Lu Feng felt that something was off.

Except for that one time in his youth when someone dared spike his drink, no one had ever teased him like this. This woman, emboldened by her pregnancy, had become even more disrespectful—she’s not even bothering to feign virtue anymore!

Yet not a trace of anger stirred within him.

…

With his high cheekbones and deep, dark eyes, Lu Feng emanated an overwhelming sense of authority whenever he stared at someone. Jiang Wanrou, uncomfortable under his gaze, awkwardly remarked, “Husband, is there something on my face? It’s late—shall we retire for the night?”

“I will attend to your undressing,” As she began to rise, struggling slightly, Lu Feng pressed her shoulder down, preventing her from moving further.

“There’s no need.”

Observing her artificial manner, he noted that ever since her belly had grown, he had never allowed her to move. What once went unnoticed now revealed nothing but flaws.

As the commander of Jinlong Bureau—with unsolvable cases from the Ministry of Justice and Court of Judicial Review handed over to him, all of which he unraveled in less than ten days—even the most vicious criminals trembled before him, not daring to entertain the faintest stray thought.

Spending his days chasing wild geese, and yet now even the domestic geese dare to peck at his eyes—good, very good!

Jiang Wanrou saw Lu Feng, exuding a murderous aura, stride off to disrobe. She muttered, “It’s just unbuttoning your clothes—what’s all the fuss about?” Unburdened by any cares these days, she yawned, lay down, and closed her eyes.

Initially, she had only planned to take a short nap, waiting for Lu Feng to return so she could chat with him for a while. Third Master was her little brother-in-law; other matters might be discussed, but as the eldest sister-in-law, it wouldn’t suit her to meddle in her brother-in-law’s private affairs.

It turned out well that Lu Feng, acting as the elder brother figure, stepped in. As the saying goes, “A forced melon never tastes sweet.” Besides, Third Master was both talented and strikingly handsome—why make things unnecessarily difficult?

Jiang Wanrou had clearly overestimated herself.

After his bath, Lu Feng returned to find Jiang Wanrou lying on her side with her head resting on her arm. Her cheeks were lightly flushed, her lips tinged with a gentle pink, and her thick eyelashes fluttered like a pair of tiny fans.

Calmly, he walked over, gently drew her arm back into the luxurious quilt, then rose and blew out the candles.

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Lu Feng didn’t have much time to spare in the inner quarters.

Jiang Wanrou hadn’t even had a chance to mention the matter about Third Master to Lu Feng before the day of departure arrived in the blink of an eye. At Mao hour, he had tidied up his travel gear and left—the sky was deep and dark, with not a trace of light.

At Chen hour, Cui Zhu had prepared a bowl of bird’s nest soup for Jiang Wanrou so that she might have something to settle her stomach before getting some more sleep. As she pushed open the door, she noticed a faint, blurry figure by the window.

“Oh dear, my good Madam, why haven’t you lit the lamp?”

In a flurry, Cui Zhu hurriedly set the tray down, fumbled with the firelighter to ignite a candle, and then retrieved a shawl from the wardrobe, draping it over Jiang Wanrou’s shoulders.

Cui Zhu kept rambling on, “Even though spring is yielding to summer, the morning is still chilly. Look at the grass—it’s all dewy. Madam’s delicate body simply cannot afford to catch a chill.”

Jiang Wanrou gathered her soft shawl and whispered, “He’s gone.”

Lu Feng had never ventured so far from home before, and just as the couple’s love had been blossoming, he suddenly left.

Jiang Wanrou had considered what to say at the moment of parting. Should she express the tender sentiment, “You travel a thousand miles while my heart follows,” or offer the heartfelt blessing, “Who shall accompany you on this journey? Only a boat under the bright moon and a sail catching the wind”?

He had once remarked that she was “unlearned and lacking in finesse,” so she had even rummaged through the mansion’s collection of books to find a few poetically graceful lines. Yet, not one of them was used.

Last night, the two slept fully clothed as they did every ordinary night. At the break of dawn (the Mao hour), when Lu Feng rose, she listened to the soft rustling of his dress and stared in a daze at the myriad patterns of the canopy beside the bed. Her throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton—she couldn’t speak.

Lu Feng also said nothing. His heavy boots and the dull sound of his footsteps grew closer, and she hastily closed her eyes. She had expected that, as before, he would gently caress her cheek with his calloused fingertips or stroke her belly, but instead, he only looked at her for a moment before his footsteps gradually faded away.

In a rush, she got up and opened the window. In the dark of the night, all she could make out was a vague figure from behind—he clutched his usual long knife, his robes fluttering as he walked steadily, his entire presence as resolute as a mountain.

She watched his silhouette slowly vanish. At a corner, he suddenly halted, lifted his left arm and gave a slight swing before continuing forward without glancing backward.

At that moment, Jiang Wanrou felt an emptiness in her heart and a coolness on her face. When she touched it, tears unexpectedly began to fall.

Jiang Wanrou rarely cried because she knew it was futile. Her father wouldn’t see her cry, and her stepmother wouldn’t care about her tears; only Concubine Li did. When Jiang Wanrou cried, she would hold Concubine Li close as they wept together.

Later, she learned that tears only bring pain to those who care about you and joy to your enemies. A child who isn’t loved is not worthy of shedding tears.

Jiang Wanrou silently brushed away the tears on her face. In all her life, she had cried over the illness of her concubine and during Huaiyi’s birth—and now, unexpectedly, she wept for Lu Feng. She vividly recalled how terrified she had been when she first married, barely daring to look at his face.

Jiang Wanrou thought that perhaps he had been too kind to her lately, or maybe it was simply that pregnant women tend to be overly sentimental. Cradling her belly, she returned to bed and closed her eyes, yet sleep eluded her.

Murmuring to herself, she said, “I wouldn’t say I loved it, but I was so used to it that now—suddenly without it—it feels terribly painful.”

“Ah? Madam, what is it that you fancy? I can fetch it for you,”

“Both our ancestors and Master have expressly instructed that within this entire household, no one is to be shortchanged at your expense!”

Chattering away, Cui Zhu closed the window. The bird’s nest was still warm; Jiang Wanrou took two sips and put it aside.

She then asked, “And Huaiyi?”

Cui Zhu replied, “The eldest son is in the study reading. If you miss him, shall I call him to the Jinguang Courtyard for breakfast?”

“No need; it’s cold this morning—it’s not worth having him go just for that.” Jiang Wanrou sighed. A persistent unease filled her heart; when she had nothing to do, her mind would only wander into endless overthinking. She needed to find something to occupy herself.

She then inquired, “What about that girl in the second younger brother’s room—how is she doing in Chunhui Hall? Is she still behaving herself?”

“Ah, that one…” Cui Zhu’s round face showed a hint of reluctance. She glanced at Jiang Wanrou’s expression and said cautiously, “Madam, I have conveyed your message—please don’t be angry.”

“Oh? Could something have happened?”

Cui Zhu stammered, “I followed your instructions and passed your words on exactly as they were to the Second Madam. I thought everything was settled, but then… this morning when I inquired…”

“That young lady didn’t go to Chunhui Hall—she went… she went to the little Buddha Hall in the south.”

Jiang Wanrou’s expression changed abruptly.

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