Chapter 11

Jiang Wanrou’s mind went blank for a moment. When Lu Feng’s rough palm touched her face, she suddenly came to her senses. Her cheeks turned bright red, and she hurriedly grabbed a silk cloth to cover herself. The crimson-thin satin clung to her mature and voluptuous figure, her snowy skin partially exposed, smooth, and delicate as if it could yield milk at a touch.

“You… why are you back at this time?” Jiang Wanrou bent her body, placing her arms in front of her chest to cover herself slightly. Her gaze evasively looked downward.

“Come here.” Lu Feng’s Adam’s apple moved, his dark eyes radiating an intense and aggressive gaze that bore straight into her, making Jiang Wanrou’s hair stand on end.

She didn’t move. Lu Feng walked toward her step by step, lifted her chin, and stared at her boldly as if seeing her for the first time.

Jiang Wanrou’s heart fluttered nervously under his gaze. He sighed softly, “My wife, so beautiful.”

Jiang Wanrou’s cheeks reddened, and she retorted playfully, “Hmph, we’re an old married couple. Aren’t you ashamed?”

She married him right after coming of age and has been his wife for five years. Her body, having been through countless intimate moments with him, was no longer that of an innocent maiden. What strange mood had overtaken Lu Feng today?

Lu Feng chuckled softly and stepped forward to embrace her, his large, warm hand gently stroking her damp black hair.

“Soft light envelops delicate veins, enchanting hues warm fresh skin. My wife is in her prime, so there’s no need for self-doubt. However—”

His large hand caressed her smooth shoulder as he said in a deep voice, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like this, with such girlish charm.”

She was dignified during the day, but she was perceptive and bold at night, even daring to straddle him mischievously. Her snowy skin and black hair resembled the seductive spirits from tales that drained men of their essence. He had seen her in her most stunning moments many times—captivating and full of allure—but none were as moving as the shy demeanor she displayed today.

They had been married for five years, and Lu Huaiyi was already literate. Yet now, Lu Feng found a girlish shyness in her demeanor, which amazed him. His dark eyes stared at her intently.

Jiang Wanrou felt uneasy under his gaze, thinking that Lu Feng had never behaved like this before. He was usually straightforward and silent, rarely speaking much. What had gotten into him today?

She forced a smile, wrapped her arms around Lu Feng’s neck, and said coquettishly, “Husband, I feel cold.”

She would rather finish quickly and go to sleep than endure his strange gaze, which felt eerie in the middle of the night.

Lu Feng gave her a firm squeeze, suddenly lifted her by the waist, and laid her horizontally on the bed. Then, he pulled open the bed curtains and got up to leave.

Jiang Wanrou’s chest rose and fell with emotion, and just as she was caught up in the moment, she watched his hurried figure retreat.

He—he actually left at this moment!

Left…

In the four corners of the room, charcoal braziers crackled and popped, keeping Jiang Wanrou from feeling cold. She sat up in confusion, only to see the bead curtains sway. Lu Feng entered, carrying a red lacquered nanmu wood tray. She vaguely saw cinnabar and wolf hair brushes.

Lu Feng spread out xuan paper on the desk and spoke in a deep, low voice, “Perhaps my wife doesn’t know, but I am rather skilled in painting and calligraphy.”

“I will paint a portrait of my wife.”

Jiang Wanrou: “…”

Her emotions had been tumultuous tonight, but seeing Lu Feng in high spirits, she refrained from saying anything to dampen the mood. Quietly, she curled her legs, lying sideways on the edge of the bed to make herself more comfortable.

She asked gently, “Is this fine?”

Lu Feng smiled faintly and shook his head. “No.”

He stepped forward and abruptly removed the thin crimson silk draped over her, and at that moment, spring’s beauty seemed infinite.

…

The next day, Jiang Wanrou once again failed to go to Chunhui Hall to pay her respects.

When Lu Feng and Jiang Wanrou appeared together, Cui Zhu’s mouth formed a wide “O.” She smacked her head and exclaimed, “I’ll fetch the medicine!”

Fortunately, she was clever and had already prepared in advance!

Cui Zhu sighed with relief, proud of her foresight, smiling joyfully.

“No need.”

Jiang Wanrou forced a stiff smile, bowed slightly to Lu Feng, and said, “I’m not feeling well. Let Cui Zhu serve you your meal, I won’t see you off.”

Lu Feng looked down at her and replied, “I’m taking a day off today.”

After speaking, perhaps realizing his tone was too blunt, he gently took her hand and softly said, “It’s alright. I’ll spend the day with you.”

This shocked not only Jiang Wanrou but also Cui Zhu, who was utterly frightened. As the saying goes, appearance reveals the heart—Lu Feng, accustomed to harsh laws and cruel punishments, always carried a chilling and sinister aura. Normally, his cold demeanor instilled fear and demanded respect. But now, with his deliberate gentleness, it was as unnerving as the King of Hell smiling. A shiver ran down their spines, leaving them trembling with fear.

Jiang Wanrou dismissed Cui Zhu, feeling both wronged and exhausted. She decided to visit Putuo Temple before the end of the year to pray to the Bodhisattva, string prayer beads, and ward off evil spirits.

She cursed Lu Feng thoroughly in her heart, thinking he was either possessed or suffering from some brain ailment!

Last night, he had clearly restrained himself to the point where veins bulged, yet he pretended to be a saint, making her shed her clothes and strike all sorts of embarrassing poses, tormenting her until the third watch of the night.

After years of marriage, Jiang Wanrou considered herself a seasoned veteran, not easily embarrassed. She had tried all sorts of things, but last night, she was so mortified she nearly cried. The only reason she didn’t was because she saw the fiery passion in Lu Feng’s eyes and forced herself to endure.

She refused to give him the satisfaction!

They spent a chaste night together, yet it was more unbearable than their wedding night. Early in the morning, seeing him again only added to Jiang Wanrou’s frustration. She hoped he would leave soon so she could burn all those indecent items.

Now, hearing him say he wouldn’t be going out today, Jiang Wanrou’s forced smile almost faltered. She replied coldly, “I’m going to see Huaiyi.”

After saying this, she turned and left, starkly contrasting her usual gentle demeanor.

She had never been so cold toward Lu Feng before. In his memory, Jiang Wanrou was the epitome of a good wife, and this “goodness” was reflected in every aspect. She excelled at managing the household, ensuring that everything ran smoothly; she was filial to elders, even more favored by his grandmother than himself; she was gentle and virtuous, taking care of his daily needs impeccably. She always spoke softly to him and made him thoroughly satisfied in their intimate moments. As a wife and the mistress of the household, she was beyond reproach.

Yet, he always felt something was missing.

He vividly remembered that incident at Marquis Ning’an’s residence. In the dim and cramped side room, the young girl’s eyes were red, like a desperate little beast. Her slender arms, fragile as they were, dared to lift a vase and smash it toward his head.

Those angry eyes, stubborn and beautiful, had stayed in his memory for a very, very long time.

He initially thought she was a fiery and strong-willed woman, but upon living with her, he found her unexpectedly docile. A compliant woman was no bad thing. Lu Feng had a grand vision and was capable of managing the affairs of the court and the vast world, yet he seldom devoted attention to any single woman. Jiang Wanrou won his heart, and the two lived harmoniously—he took charge of external matters while she managed the household.

Over time, he realized that despite Jiang Wanrou’s gentle nature, she rarely cried or caused a scene. She didn’t cry that time in the small, dark side room. On their wedding night, though trembling in fear, she didn’t cry. The only time he saw her shed tears was during the birth of Huaiyi, when the midwife asked whether to save the mother or the child. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she cried out mournfully, “Save me!”

“Save me! As long as I live, I can have more children. Husband, Lu Feng, Lu Feng, save me!”

A wife’s primary duty was to ensure the continuation of the family line. Such words were shockingly unconventional, leaving the midwife and doctor dumbfounded.

It was from that moment that he truly began to see her.