The bed beside Yu Zhiguang shifted slightly as Xue Shen stood up to leave.

She softly called, “Xue Shen.”

Xue Shen paused, hearing the usually apprehensive young woman say earnestly behind him, “I’m…not as afraid as I was before.”

The nights grew colder, and Xue Shen continued to sleep on the floor.

Yu Zhiguang didn’t know how long it took to ride from the Southern Camp to the General’s mansion, only that Xue Shen left early and returned late every day, spending his time at the mansion eating, training, washing, and sleeping. The large mansion was more like a temporary lodging place for him.

Over the past two days, Xue Shen hadn’t been as terrifying as she’d imagined.

She ventured a request, “The day after tomorrow is my third day here. Will the General accompany me back to my family’s home?” Xue Shen had said he wasn’t taking leave, but according to custom, newlyweds should return to the bride’s family together.

Xue Shen’s voice was low, slightly hoarse with fatigue, “What do your parents like? Tell Steward Cao tomorrow, he’ll prepare gifts for me.”

Did that mean he would go with her?

“Then let’s leave at 9 am tomorrow…”

Yu Zhiguang waited a long time for Xue Shen’s reply, lifted the bed curtains to look, and saw the man, casually draped in a thick robe, breathing evenly, already asleep.

A violent storm subsided in the early morning.

Newly planted trees in the General’s mansion were uprooted, their roots exposed, wet leaves and fallen flowers scattered everywhere.

Steward Cao, in addition to supervising the repairs at the watchtower, had to direct the servants to clean and reinforce the roofs.  He also noticed Yu Zhiguang.

“Mistress, are you heading to the front gate?”

“Yes, I want to go to the East Market. Please have a carriage prepared for me, Steward Cao.”

“Should I send some people with you?”

“Yuanbao and I will be fine.”

Yu Zhiguang didn’t bother him with the gift selection, taking the General’s mansion carriage and going with Yuanbao to choose gifts for her family.

After a short nap in the afternoon, she returned to the library to read and relax.

She didn’t manage Xue Shen’s household, considering herself a nominal wife, a cover for the General, and didn’t understand why he would entrust her with managing the household finances.

A loud “thud” disturbed the quiet of the library.

Yu Zhiguang thought she had misheard, but then heard the sound of chairs being dragged and overturned, seemingly from the bookshelves.

She held her book and slowly walked over, realizing the noise wasn’t from the library but from the locked west wing next door.

Someone was inside?

The sounds of objects colliding grew louder, as if something was thrashing around. Steward Cao had said there was something important locked inside.

Yu Zhiguang left the library and went to the west wing.

The door was ajar, the copper lock open, hanging loosely on the latch.

She peeked inside.  Before her eyes adjusted to the light, the “Ten Scenic Spots of Taiyuan” travelogue she was holding dropped to the floor.

The west wing was ransacked.

A thin mason lay half-collapsed on the ground, convulsing. Xue Shen, who should have been gone, had him pinned down, his hand, veins bulging, tightly gripping the man’s throat, with enough force to kill him.

The mason’s eyes rolled back; his face was bloodless, his expression agonizing, his mouth moving as if trying to speak.  Xue Shen’s grip didn’t loosen; instead, it tightened. His brows furrowed, his long eyes cold and menacing.

He didn’t even turn to look at her, coldly shouting, “Wei Xiang!”

A handsome young man appeared from the corridor under the eaves, “I’m here.”

“And you’re not stopping him?”

“I…”

“Take her away.”

The young man’s explanation was cut short. He sighed, stepping in front of Yu Zhiguang to shield her from the horrifying scene, “Mistress, don’t look, it’s terrifying. I’ll take you back.”

The young man, Wei Xiang, escorted her to the hanging flower gate.

Yu Zhiguang didn’t know how she got back to the bedroom.  Sitting on the couch, her legs weak, her heart pounding erratically. Something hard pressed against her leg; turning, she saw Xue Shen’s usual belt.

As if avoiding an insect, she stood up abruptly.

The fear of the man, which had recently subsided, surged back uncontrollably. She feared Xue Shen, not because of the incident at the bandit stronghold, but because she had encountered him before, when her father had been transferred to the Censorate and they had moved from their ancestral home in Yun City to the capital.  Back then, Xue Shen hadn’t recognized her.

The Yu family settled in the capital.

The next day, the wife of the Minister of Revenue, Mrs. Luo, from the house opposite, came to visit, “We’re neighbors now, let’s visit each other often.”

Mrs. Luo was kind and brought horse hoof cakes she had made herself.  They were sweet and soft, the horse hoof pieces juicy and refreshing.

Little Miss Luo was adorable, barely taller than a low stool, her chubby body lacking a waist, yet she wore an embroidered handkerchief like the older girls. She looked up and said in a childish voice, “Sister, you look like a fairy.”

While Yu Zhiguang was at the East Market choosing a gift for Little Miss Luo, the Minister of Revenue was imprisoned for embezzlement, and the Luo residence was surrounded by the Imperial Guard, arresting suspects and confiscating property. The Luo family resisted, and no one survived; blood flowed from the front gate to the street. The leader of the troops was Xue Shen, who hadn’t yet been promoted to Right General.

The Luo residence gate was broken, iron hooves trampled the ground, leaving bloody marks. The leading figure was like a demon, half his face and clothes stained with blood.

She was returning home in a sedan chair when she lifted the curtain and saw him, still holding the small golden windmill she had chosen for Little Miss Luo.

“Yuanbao, go to the front yard and see if General…if the General is still in the mansion, and where he might be today.”