Chapter 3: Stealing His Dagger

A red mark still lingered on Shen Zhaozhao’s forehead from having slept face-down. She stared blankly at the man on the wedding bed.

Was this ever going to end?

By around noon, the Imperial Decree for the manor seizure would be issued.

Irritated, Shen Zhaozhao scratched her head.

She had more or less figured out the situation: Zhan Nanxing must not die. If he died, she was done for as well.

Sleep was out of the question now. Shen Zhaozhao began inventorying her dowry chest.

To be fair, her family had done right by her.

Perhaps out of guilt over this political marriage, her natal family had been generous. There were a full twenty silver ingots, two small gold bars, along with some property deeds and jewelry.

Shen Zhaozhao transferred all her dowry into the storage racks in her spatial space and closed the now-empty chest. Her thoughts turned to the Zhan family’s storeroom.

Since the manor was going to be seized anyway, better it benefit her than the Emperor.

Just as the first glimmers of dawn lit the sky, Shen Zhaozhao guessed that the servants wouldn’t be up yet and prepared to make a trip to the storeroom.

She opened the door—

And came face to face with a maid waiting outside.

Shen Zhaozhao’s face twitched slightly. “You’re up this early, Sister?”

She never imagined that before daylight even broke, the Zhan family’s servants would already be waiting outside!

“Good morning, Third Young Madam. Please don’t call this humble maid ‘Sister’—just call me Huangjuan,” the leading maid said cheerfully. “Why not rest a bit longer?”

At this hour, even Old Madam hadn’t risen yet!

Shen Zhaozhao offered a bashful smile, her gaze falling on the washbasin and towel in Huangjuan’s hands. She suddenly recalled the dagger in her dream—the very one that had caused all the trouble, which Zhan Nanxing had taken out.

Forget the storeroom for now.

First, she had to confiscate that dagger.

“I got up early to better attend to my Husband,” Shen Zhaozhao said sweetly.

As she spoke, she took the washbasin from Huangjuan’s hands.

She turned, returned to the room, and closed the door behind her—all in one smooth motion.

Huangjuan chuckled. “Third Young Madam is indeed virtuous. Old Madam can rest easy now.”

Back in the room, Shen Zhaozhao carried the basin inside. The moment she looked up, she saw that Zhan Nanxing was already awake. Due to his injured leg, he was leaning against the headboard.

His loose crimson wedding robe draped casually over him, exposing a broad, muscular chest.

His jet-black hair fell freely, and his peach-blossom eyes glared at her with sharp alertness.

Yet the mole beneath his eye—which seemed as if it might fall off at any moment—softened the sharpness of his gaze, taking the edge off his simmering anger.

“Did I wake you?” Shen Zhaozhao swiftly placed the basin on the shelf.

Then she turned and picked up the outer robe she’d prepared earlier.

“Husband, let me help you get dressed,” she said, stepping forward.

Her gaze swept boldly over Zhan Nanxing’s lightly-clad form.

Where could he have hidden that dagger?

This robe was thin…

As her mind raced, her hands moved instinctively.

“What are you doing!” Zhan Nanxing exclaimed, startled and furious, grabbing her hand.

A woman’s hand was unmistakably different from a man’s.

Soft as boneless silk, skin like fine porcelain.

Zhan Nanxing reacted as if burned, quickly shaking off her hand, clutching his robe closed, and glaring at her in alarm.

“Did I… frighten you, Husband?” Shen Zhaozhao looked pitiful. “I just wanted to help you get dressed.”

“Get out.”

Zhan Nanxing pointed to the door with a commanding hand.

This woman made him uncomfortable from head to toe.

“Husband, please allow me to fulfill my duty as your Wife!” Shen Zhaozhao’s gaze landed on his pillow.

She had studied many military manuals from the general’s household and knew that the battlefield was unpredictable. Many commanders had the habit of hiding weapons under their pillows while sleeping.

“No need,” Zhan Nanxing replied coldly.

“Then let me at least tidy the bed for you!”

With that, she stepped forward and lifted his pillow.

Zhan Nanxing had already been leaning sideways against the bedframe. With her sudden motion, he toppled over to the inner side of the bed.

When he turned around, fury written all over his face, he saw the dagger he’d hidden under his pillow now held in Shen Zhaozhao’s hand.

“Again!” he bellowed, reaching for it.

Shen Zhaozhao quickly turned her back, retreating a few steps, her eyes reddening with repressed tears. “Since Husband hates me so much, then I might as well…”

*Bang—*

Zhan Nanxing tried to wrest the dagger back from her, but due to his injured legs, he fell off the bed entirely.

Shen Zhaozhao turned and glanced at the man sprawled in disarray on the floor. His usually striking eyes were bloodshot as he glared at her like she was his sworn enemy.

“Return the dagger.”

“You—get out.”

Zhan Nanxing gritted his teeth, hand outstretched.

Shen Zhaozhao covered her face dramatically, clutching his dagger, and ran out of the wedding room in a flurry of sobs.

As if she had just suffered a deep betrayal.

She was gone.

But she had no intention of returning the dagger.

Outside the room, the servant boys and maids saw the Third Young Madam fleeing in tears, and chaos ensued.

Some rushed to report to the Old Madam, others chased after Shen Zhaozhao to console her, while one poor servant boy, trembling with nerves, entered the wedding room to help Zhan Nanxing dress and wash.

“Young Master, Third Young Madam is actually quite nice,” the servant boy offered timidly, but as soon as he looked up, he was startled by what he saw.

The man sprawled on the floor had loose black hair, a pale and blood-drained face, and eyes so bloodshot from fury they looked like they might bleed. Clutching his chest, he gasped violently for air.

“Out.”

Zhan Nanxing’s voice was hoarse.

“All of you, get out.”

This servant boy had grown up in the manor and had never seen the Third Young Master like this.

Before disaster struck the General’s family, the Third Young Master had been the most radiant young lord in the capital—a flamboyant junior general on the battlefield.

Even after the calamity, although he had grown gloomier, he was still courteous and composed.

Never had he been like this—filled with rage, face twisted with fury, barking at others to leave.

The servant boy bowed and withdrew from the wedding room.

The doors closed behind him, dimming the light from outside and plunging the room into deeper shadow.

Shen Zhaozhao, seeing no one had followed her, finally lowered her hand from her face and strolled along the covered walkway of Xi Garden, turning the stolen dagger over in her hand.

The dagger’s sheath was unadorned, its leather worn from use, yet it had clearly been meticulously cared for.

Zhan Nanxing obviously treasured it.

She pushed the blade out with her thumb—the edge gleamed sharply.

It was a fine weapon. Once the manor seizure was over, she would return it to him.

“Third Young Madam!” Huang Juan came panting after her.

Shen Zhaozhao quickly put on a tearful expression. “Husband doesn’t like me… Huang Juan, did I do something wrong?”

Huang Juan didn’t know how to respond.

After that battle, the Third Young Master had changed completely.

Back then, no matter how much he disliked someone, he would never have shouted for them to get out like that.

“Third Young Madam, the Young Master is actually a good man,” Huang Juan said carefully, choosing her words. “He’s just… in pain from his injuries.”

Shen Zhaozhao quickly picked up the cue and stepped down graciously. “Mm, I understand. I’ll be even better to Husband from now on.”

As long as Zhan Nanxing didn’t act recklessly and drag her down, she was perfectly willing to play the part of a harmonious couple on the surface.

“The Old Madam and the others are still waiting for you in the Xi Hall…” Huang Juan paused.

Originally, Zhan Nanxing was supposed to accompany Shen Zhaozhao to offer tea to the elders. But given how things had gone, it looked like she would have to go alone.

Hearing that she was expected to offer tea to the elders, Shen Zhaozhao froze mid-step.

In the dream, the imperial soldiers had arrived to seize the manor precisely while she was serving tea to her mother-in-law.

She couldn’t just stand by and watch the treasury be confiscated.

“What’s wrong, Third Young Madam?” Huang Juan turned back to ask.

Shen Zhaozhao thought for a moment, then lowered her head, twiddling her fingers, looking pitiful. “I can’t just leave Husband like that. He’ll hate me.”

“Husband is in a bad mood. I need to go back and soothe him.”

She looked up, her eyes reddened with barely contained tears, lip trembling—her expression said it all:

I am a virtuous wife. I’ve suffered immense grievance, but I choose patience and understanding.

Even Huang Juan, as a mere servant, was moved.