Chapter 23.2

After passing through the checkpoints into Jizhou, the region beyond the Hutuo River was drenched in endless rain. Thunder cracked across a sky heavy with clouds.

The county town, devastated by natural disaster, lay barren and quiet.
Yaoyao was temporarily staying at a farmhouse in Jizhou. The thatched hut had a small skylight, and though dim inside, the dry straw made it cozy enough. She sat alongside Xin Zhu, who was gently massaging her calves. After a full day in the carriage, it was impossible not to feel fatigued.

Xin Zhu grumbled, “They served coarse rice tonight—it tasted awful. This journey’s really been rough…”

Yaoyao pressed her lips into a soft smile. Her gaze clear and luminous, she whispered, “I thought it was bad too. But those wild herb flatbreads were decent. Next time, I’ll steal one for you to try.”

Xin Zhu chuckled. “Young Madam should keep it for yourself! You make me sound like such a glutton!”

Yaoyao curved her lips. “Alright, I’m just greedy.”

Her spirits were high. Traveling far felt like horseback riding—something she wouldn’t crave if she hadn’t tasted it, but now that she had a chance to see the wider world, she welcomed it. In fact, she felt a quiet thrill, like a fledgling pecking through its heavy, shadowed shell for the first time.

The two whispered for a while before Li Shan pushed open the door and entered. Xin Zhu immediately stood up, and Yaoyao quickly tucked her pale ankles and snow-white shoes under the folds of her skirt.

Without expression, Li Shan sat on the heated bed, removed his outer robe, and said, “Heavy rain’s likely tonight. Rest early—we’ll leave at dawn.”

Yaoyao nodded softly. “Alright.”

Xin Zhu moved to lay down fresh straw for sleeping, but Li Shan said, “No need—I’m sleeping on the bed.”

Yaoyao was quietly surprised. They’d shared the bed the previous night, but given his distaste for aristocratic women, she assumed that had been an exception. She hadn’t even told Nanny Zheng or Xin Zhu.

Xin Zhu froze, instinctively asking, “Then where will Young Madam sleep…”

Li Shan glanced at Yaoyao. She blinked and lowered her eyes to the floor.

He realized her attendants had no idea the two of them had already shared a bed. But really—why keep it secret? It made it seem like he’d done something wrong.

With a calm tone, he replied, “She sleeps on the bed too.”

Xin Zhu glanced at the pair, slightly worried. From the looks of it, Li Shan wanted a more comfortable place to sleep—nothing more, it seemed. Still, she couldn’t quite make sense of it. The bed in this rural hut was quite small. Who knew if two people could even fit without crowding? Carrying her quiet concerns, she stepped out.

Once the room was still again, a soft, sweet osmanthus scent began to waft from Yaoyao’s body, lingering in the air like mist, tickling Li Shan’s nose with a subtle, warm itch. With a low voice, he asked offhandedly, “Was the food decent today?”

Yaoyao replied gently, “Thank you for asking, husband. Everything was fine.”

But Li Shan hadn’t really asked out of concern. People often feel a strange sense of superiority over experiences they’ve endured that others haven’t, especially hardship. He’d expected her to show some discomfort, but despite being raised in luxury, she hadn’t complained about the food at all.

That made it feel less amusing to him. “Get some sleep,” he said. “We head out early tomorrow.”

Yaoyao had no objections. She was tired, too—it was time to rest.

Li Shan snuffed out the candle, and the room fell into darkness. Yaoyao felt her way to the bed and lay down. As she settled, his breath beside her grew heavier. He climbed in as well, and his warm arm brushed hers. He lay motionless, but the contact seemed to irritate him. With a frown, he said, “Move further in.”

Yaoyao was already as close to the edge as she could be. She whispered, “The bed’s too small.”

Li Shan: “So you’re saying I shouldn’t be here?”

Yaoyao: “…I didn’t say that.”

Heaven help her—was he accusing her now? Even if she did quietly think so…

Li Shan gave a dry huff, finally quieting down. Yaoyao, though, didn’t dare sleep pressed against him, and began shifting her posture. Sleeping on her side felt more appropriate, but facing him directly was too close—she could feel the rhythm of his breath, slow and steady. She quickly turned her back to him, yet in the darkness, it felt like all her vulnerable points were exposed to his gaze, leaving her uneasy. So she turned back again.

Li Shan’s voice came low and slow: “Xie Yaoyao, if you move again…”

She immediately lay still, already familiar with his routine, mentally mouthing the next line: Then sleep on the floor.

But the next moment, he let out a dry chuckle: “Then I’ll just hold you to sleep.”

Yaoyao: “…”

She didn’t dare move at all.

After a while, she finally processed what he’d said—That man really is the most thick-skinned under heaven! How could anyone say such things so casually?

Luckily, he seemed to be only talking. She quietly cursed him a few times in her heart, relaxing just enough as drowsiness began to take over.

Outside, rain dripped rhythmically—a perfect sleeping weather. The bed was too small for two blankets, so she and Li Shan shared one, and his body radiated heat that steadily spread toward her. Half-asleep, she instinctively felt that curling into his arms might feel even warmer.

She groggily thought, Who wants to curl up to him? He’d probably toss her off the bed—and that would be painful and mortifying.

She wasn’t sure how long had passed when she heard Xin Zhu’s voice—not a dream this time. The words startled her awake: “Young Madam, the flood’s risen! Please get up!”

Yaoyao opened her eyes and saw Xin Zhu soaked through one side. She reached out to help her, and Xin Zhu said, “The Hutuo River’s breached again. The Marquis left earlier and told me to look after you. If something went wrong, we’re to get you on the carriage immediately.”

And now something was definitely wrong.

Inside the hut, a torch leaned against the wall, and the floor was covered with a thin layer of water. They were in one of the higher-lying areas—if water had begun to seep in here, things were serious.

Yaoyao quickly dressed in warm clothes. With Xin Zhu, she stepped outside, and just as feared, the fields and trees visible in the afternoon were now reduced to mere tips poking above the water. The horses stomped nervously.

Du Ming shouted, “Young Madam, get in the carriage quickly!”

Yaoyao climbed aboard, swallowing down her racing heartbeat. For the first time, she felt the merciless weight of nature’s power. Regaining her composure, she asked Xinzhu, “Is the Marquis… safe?”

Li Shan had left Du Ming and six soldiers to guard the carriage. He had taken only three or four men with him, and no one knew where he’d gone.

Xin Zhu said, “The Marquis should be fine.”

Li Shan had chosen this place as a temporary stop precisely for its elevation. However, although the villagers had suffered from flooding just a month prior and were aware of the risks of the Hutuo River breaching again, they had nowhere else to go.

The ambitious young men had long gone to Fanyang with the Supreme Army, leaving behind only the old, sick, and weak. Those who remained could only pray for clear skies and try to rebuild. Unfortunately, fate had other plans—the rain had been falling since before Yaoyao and Li Shan arrived in Jizhou. Whether those villagers were safe now remained unknown.

Yaoyao stared out the carriage window at the steadily rising water. Her heart felt heavy, as though weighed down by a stone.

Xin Zhu gently let down the curtain and said, “Young Madam, let’s not watch. We’ll be at the hilltop soon.”

Yaoyao managed a small, strained smile. The carriage continued its climb, but after a short while, it suddenly halted. Outside, Du Ming shouted orders while the soldiers rushed around.

“What’s happening?” Xin Zhu asked.

Du Ming wiped rain from his face and replied, “Young Madam, the wheel’s stuck in a pit!”

“I’d like to get out and see,” Yaoyao said.

Du Ming urged, “The water’s rising—please stay in the carriage.”

Even though Yaoyao and Xin Zhu wanted to help, their presence might only distract the men trying to fix the issue. And if they fell ill from the cold and wet, it would be a risk not worth taking. It was better to wait inside.

Xin Zhu’s hands were icy cold. She gripped Yaoyao’s hand tightly as the two of them sat quietly, breathing slowly, waiting for good news.

But the hillside soil had already softened under days of rain. As the downpour intensified, the soldiers’ efforts only made the wheel sink deeper. The entire carriage began to tip, and inside, Yaoyao and Xin Zhu nearly slammed into the side wall. Even Du Ming, known for his calm composure, couldn’t help but curse the damn weather.

Inside, Yaoyao quickly checked everything they could feasibly carry. Gripping Xin Zhu’s hand, she opened the door and said firmly, “Deputy General Du, my maid and I will walk.”

Du Ming wiped the rain from his face and glanced around. With no good options left, he said, “Forgive my incompetence, Young Madam—you’ll need to come down.”

No sooner had he spoken than his eyes lit up. “General!”

Li Shan had returned.

Silhouetted in the dim light, his figure loomed tall. As he drew closer, it was clear he hadn’t fared much better in the storm. Though cloaked in a rain cape, his face was streaked with water—his sharp features soaked to a dramatic intensity. He took one look at the carriage and knew at once—it would have to be abandoned. Turning to Yaoyao, he asked, “Can you manage on foot?”

Yaoyao stood beside the carriage shaft, her gaze fixed downward. The water had already risen to her ankles, tinted yellow with muddy sediment, as if each step would take effort to pull free. She pushed down the unease in her heart and gave a solemn, silent nod. Even dressed in the plain travelwear common to merchants, her beauty couldn’t be hidden. There was a kind of radiance in her expression—not ignorance, but like a small flame flickering in snow and wind, instinctively stirring a desire to shield it with one’s hands.

Li Shan’s breath caught for a moment.

Supported by her maid, she slowly extended one foot toward the ground. Rain droplets splashed against the pale, white shoe, instantly darkening the fabric. It had been clean just moments before.

Before her foot touched the water, Li Shan asked again, “You can really walk?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Yes.”

Li Shan paused, then untied his rain cloak. “No. You can’t.”

Yaoyao: “?”

And then, without another word, he reached out with powerful arms and scooped her up. Her surprised “Ah!” hadn’t even finished before he quickly pulled the cloak over her. She froze, nestled against his chest, listening to the patter of raindrops on the cloak, breathing in the fresh scent of rain. But her hands and feet warmed up instantly.