Chapter 4

The old madam saw that Zhao Jue took no responsibility and even now wanted to push the blame onto Shen Qingtan.

She was so angry her chest tightened, and she gave a cold laugh:
“Even though Qingtan got into the wrong wedding sedan, she married the right man. From now on, she is the legitimate eldest daughter-in-law of our Duke’s household.”

The old madam made the decision on the spot. She patted Zhao Yi’s arm in comfort, then left the study with her cane.

Second Master’s face changed. Anyone who could be the Duke’s wife was no ordinary woman.

Her words likely meant she had seen through their scheme.

Zhao Jue noticed the disappointment in the old madam’s eyes, but at this point, he had no choice.

He gave Zhao Yi a subtle glance and left the study.

Second Master followed right after.

Only First Master and Zhao Yi remained.

First Master never imagined something so absurd would happen to his own son.

He wanted to say a few comforting words, but having never comforted anyone in his life, he thought for a long while and only managed a dry:
“Yi’er, you’ve been wronged.”

“I’m not wronged. In fact, it’s a blessing in disguise,” Zhao Yi replied, relieved he didn’t have to marry the restless Shen Mingzhu. Thinking of his mother’s temper and worrying she might take it out on Shen Qingtan, he added deliberately:
“Please tell Mother—she is the woman I truly like.”

First Master stared wide-eyed. His good son had actually taken a fancy to his younger brother’s bride. No wonder he called it a blessing in disguise.

His feelings were mixed. He didn’t know whether to feel sorry for his son or glad he had gotten what he wanted by sheer luck.

—

Because Zhao Yi was in poor health, his other brothers handled the guests while he only needed to make a brief appearance.

The old madam was as angry at the second branch’s foolishness as she was protective of the first branch.

To avoid guests making jokes, she canceled the “teasing the newlyweds” tradition, using Zhao Yi’s poor health as the reason.

After leaving the banquet, Zhao Yi went straight back to the bridal chamber.

He saw Shen Qingtan sitting properly on the wedding bed. Her heavy makeup had been removed, revealing a pale and luminous face like a dewy peony—beautiful and charming.

She stood up: “Second Master.”

She didn’t know what Zhao Yi had done or what he planned to do.

Zhao Yi waved away her maids and closed the door:
“The second branch wants to protect your and your sister’s reputations, so they decided to let things stay as they are.”

Shen Qingtan lowered her gaze. She had expected this.

If they were willing to swap brides back, now that would be surprising.

Zhao Yi said gently:
“The man you were supposed to marry wasn’t me. My health is weak and my life may not be long. If you have other plans, tell me and I’ll make arrangements for you.”

“My engagement to Zhao Jue was only arranged by our parents and the matchmaker. Now that I have married you, I am your wife,” Shen Qingtan said, lifting her eyes to him. “Or… does Second Master not want me?”

Zhao Yi caught the flicker of unease in her watery gaze. After keeping calm all evening, this was the first crack—she seemed afraid he wouldn’t accept her as his wife.

If she left the Duke’s household, she could already imagine her fate.

He sighed lightly, helpless: “No. Go wash up and rest.”

She didn’t move, glancing toward the two wine cups on the table.

Following her gaze, Zhao Yi realized they had skipped the wedding wine ritual.

He walked over, poured two cups, and handed one to her.

She took it, linking arms with him, and felt his arm stiffen as if he disliked being touched.

She hesitated, about to let go—

But Zhao Yi drank the wine first.

She paused, then bit her lip and drank too.

He calmly withdrew his hand, set the cup down, and said: “I’ll go wash up in the study.”

She nodded slightly: “Alright.”

Before leaving, Zhao Yi added, worried she might overthink:
“Grandmother already knows what happened today. She recognizes you as my wife. You don’t have to worry.”

Shen Qingtan froze, surprised, watching his tall figure disappear through the doorway.

Though Zhao Yi was weak and sickly, many noble daughters in the capital still wanted to marry him—he just never wanted a wife.

No one knew why he suddenly agreed to marry, and he had never even met Shen Mingzhu beforehand.

Since Shen Mingzhu had just returned to her birth family, the marquis’s household had kept her indoors to learn etiquette and rules, so she hadn’t appeared in public before the wedding.

It was normal Zhao Yi didn’t recognize the bride. Even if he sensed something odd during the procession, he could never imagine Zhao Jue would dare to swap the bride entirely.

Faced with this sudden change, had Zhao Yi calmly accepted it and even defended her before the old madam?

She remembered their brief touch earlier—his instinctive reaction must have been to avoid her.

Her thoughts were a mess. With the maid Qiuchan’s help, she bathed and changed into a bright red inner robe.

Chunjiao cleared the wedding bed of longans, red dates, and peanuts.

Shen Qingtan said:
“You two came as my second sister’s dowry maids. You may go back to her now.”

Qiuchan and Chunjiao were delighted—she was letting them go so easily.

They bowed quickly and left the main branch to return to their mistress.

Shen Qingtan lay down on the inside of the bed, smoothing the covers, when she heard the door open.

She turned instinctively and saw Zhao Yi in a red wide-sleeved brocade robe, his refined features looking noble and elegant.

Because of his illness, his figure was slender, and though his eyes were calm and gentle, there was an unapproachable coolness about him.

Remembering his earlier aversion to her nearness, Shen Qingtan didn’t get out of bed to help him undress.

Zhao Yi glanced at her lying under the bright red quilt, her beauty made even more alluring by the fiery color.

Perhaps his gaze was too direct—she seemed nervous and shrank her head back slightly.

His eyes paused, then he looked down, removed his robe, hung it up, and lay on the outer side of the bed.

She caught a faint cold plum scent from his clothes, mixed with a trace of bitter medicine.

Her body tensed instantly, her heart pounding.

In her previous life, she had died before turning eighteen. She and Zhao Jue were married in name only, and she had never been this close to a man. Nervousness was unavoidable.

“Sleep,” Zhao Yi said lightly, sensing her emotions. He added, “My body cannot consummate the marriage. The elders in the family all know this.”

Shen Qingtan pulled the quilt to cover her flushed face: “…Oh.”