Chapter 17

When Jiang Wanrou woke up the next morning, she found herself dressed in her intact nightclothes, feeling clean and refreshed. Apart from a slight headache, her body lacked the usual soreness.

What had happened last night? She remembered standing under the eaves, watching the snow, and then… and then…

She couldn’t recall.

Just as she was about to call Cui Zhu to ask, Lu Feng lifted the curtain and entered. He was dressed in a black, fitted robe, his forehead damp with sweat from what was clearly a morning workout.

“You’re awake,” he said.

Lu Feng’s gaze lingered on her, and Jiang Wanrou’s heart skipped a beat. Something about him felt off today.

“Um… last night, I didn’t do anything inappropriate, did I?” she asked cautiously. Her tolerance for alcohol was poor, but she handled it gracefully—never causing a scene or losing her composure, even when drunk. Furthermore, she was careful not to drink excessively in public. If it hadn’t been for Lu Feng stirring trouble yesterday and the fact that her stomach was empty, those two jugs of fruit wine wouldn’t have affected her.

Lu Feng half-lowered his eyes, his dark, inky gaze making Jiang Wanrou’s heart tremble. He asked her, “Forgotten?”

Did I really do something inappropriate? Jiang Wanrou wondered, a flicker of unease passing through her. However, she maintained her outward calm, smiling as she said, “I had no tolerance for drinking last night. If I truly made a fool of myself, I ask for my husband’s understanding.”

After all, she had worked tirelessly to manage the household for him. Even if her contributions weren’t extraordinary, they were certainly significant. Surely, he wouldn’t hold one instance of drunkenness against her?

Lu Feng wasn’t someone with such a petty temperament.

Stealing a glance at his expression, Jiang Wanrou found his cold brows and phoenix-shaped eyes unreadable. While she couldn’t discern what he was thinking, her feminine intuition warned her of a subtle sense of danger.

Oh, right! Why was he still at the manor? Shouldn’t he be going to the palace?

Jiang Wanrou finally realized what felt off—she had seen Lu Feng in the morning. How rare!

In their five years of marriage, they had an unspoken understanding: he handled external affairs while she managed the household. Genuine conversations between them were scarce. She never interfered in his court matters, and he never meddled in domestic ones. Early in their marriage, she used to consult him, but his consistent response of “Do as you wish” led her to make decisions on her own.

It was the same with Huaiyi’s upbringing—she took care of his clothing and meals, while Lu Feng oversaw his studies. Their responsibilities were distinctly separate. In hindsight, their most frequent interaction occurred in bed. Lu Feng was busy with official duties, leaving before dawn. Jiang Wanrou would groggily get up to help him dress, their faces barely visible to each other in the dark. He returned late at night, leaving little room for conversation. Besides their physical intimacy, there wasn’t much else between them.

To see him first thing in the morning like this—it was indeed rare.

She asked, “Husband, aren’t you going to the palace?”

Lu Feng was deeply trusted by the Emperor, who had even sent gifts yesterday despite the New Year. On the first day of the new year, Lu Feng had been summoned to attend the royal family banquet.

Jiang Wanrou often thought to herself, no wonder the entire court, both civil and military, both feared and resented Lu Feng. Wielding authority over the Forbidden Dragon Division, he still enjoyed the Emperor’s extraordinary favor. He was the only official invited to the imperial family banquet—an honor even the former Grand Secretariat had never attained.

“Go,” Lu Feng nodded, dropping a thunderous statement: “You’ll accompany me.”

“Get dressed,” he added.

Spreading his arms and tilting his chin slightly upward, it was clear he wasn’t planning to dress himself—he expected Jiang Wanrou to attend to him.

Jiang Wanrou: “…”

After her initial shock, she quickly regained her composure. Selecting a crimson robe embroidered with qilin patterns and paired with black satin boots adorned with auspicious motifs, she knelt to tie his belt. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she asked, “So suddenly—should I prepare anything?”

Although she was familiar with visiting the palace, she had never attended a royal family banquet graced by the Emperor’s presence. As the wife of a court official, her past participation in banquets hosted by the Imperial Concubine was already a rare privilege. The most she had ever experienced was kneeling and bowing from a distance before the Emperor’s majestic procession.

Now, with Prince Gong confined and his mother relegated to the Cold Palace—it was a lamentable turn of events.

“As usual will suffice,” Lu Feng said, lowering his head and glancing at her smooth, flowing hair. He calmly added, “No need to worry. His Majesty is magnanimous, and the princes and royal sons are respectful.”

Jiang Wanrou resisted the urge to pinch the firm muscles of his waist and voiced her concerns with measured curiosity, “Husband, could you explain this in detail? I’ve never attended such an occasion before, and I fear saying or doing something inappropriate that might tarnish your reputation.”

Though her heart often harbored complaints about Lu Feng, she was fully aware that he was her husband—her strongest ally. If trouble arose, he would be the one to shield her. As the head of the household, he wasn’t there simply to enjoy privileges without responsibility.

With the Emperor’s power dominating the lands, Jiang Wanrou’s nerves were tightly strung, hoping to glean some useful insights from Lu Feng. However, he remained sparing with his words, simply saying, “Treat it as you would an ordinary banquet. There’s nothing to prepare.”

“Why the sudden decision to bring me along?” Jiang Wanrou tilted her head up, her dark, feathered lashes fluttering like little fans.

“This has never happened before.”

Lu Feng watched her as if preparing for battle, remaining silent for a moment. He didn’t tell her that the Emperor had long wanted to meet her, only for Lu Feng to block it. Back then, she was so delicate that even a gust of wind could have toppled her, with nothing to her name but a large belly. For once, he had been moved by compassion.

The Emperor’s might was overwhelming, leaving even the court officials trembling—let alone a mere woman like her. Her little cleverness might work with him, but it would never deceive the Emperor.

The Emperor had been displeased with their marriage from the start. If, in his anger, he ordered her execution by poison, though Lu Feng could save her, it would still bring unnecessary trouble.

Without further explanation, he simply instructed, “Have someone prepare Lu Huaiyi’s clothes and morning wash.”

“Huaiyi is going too?” Jiang Wanrou jumped up in shock. “He’s too young, and his health isn’t great. He should stay safely at home.”

“This is an imperial decree,” Lu Feng interrupted coldly. “Don’t worry, Huaiyi is not afraid. He’s met the Emperor before, and the Emperor even praised him.”

The Emperor’s favor for Lu Feng extended to his fondness for five-year-old Lu Huaiyi, though Jiang Wanrou was unaware of this.

A series of revelations left her stunned—how had she not known that Huaiyi had met the Emperor? Such a significant event, yet neither Huaiyi nor Lu Feng had informed her.

Lu Feng observed her wide-eyed expression and then, with a cryptic tone, asked, “Are you always entirely honest with me, Madam?”

“Of course,” Jiang Wanrou replied resolutely. “My loyalty to my husband shines as brightly as the sun and moon—it’s evident to the heavens above!”

Had she not been good to Lu Feng? Day and night, inside and outside the manor, she had ensured his comfort and ease. Could one find a more virtuous mistress anywhere in the capital? What more could he expect? Morning and evening incense offerings dedicated to him?

Lu Feng’s exasperation turned into a faint smile as he lifted her chin, gazing directly into her eyes. “Tell me—when you share intimate moments with me, have you ever felt even the slightest pleasure?”

Jiang Wanrou: “…”

At that moment, she found herself thinking rather absurdly: Lu Feng really is someone destined for greatness. To utter such shameless words as casually as eating or drinking, and without a trace of embarrassment.

No—there was something there—perhaps a hint… of irritation?

Recently, Lu Feng’s behavior has been somewhat strange. Jiang Wanrou, however, didn’t dwell too long on it. She considered herself a clever woman, and as he remained her greatest pillar of support, she knew better than to provoke him. Softening her tone, she lowered her gaze, feigning shyness.

“Well… why is my husband suddenly speaking of such things? It’s rather embarrassing.”

Lu Feng snorted coldly.

She continued hesitantly, “The feeling… it’s hard to describe. I can’t quite put it into words, but I suppose—perhaps—”

She lifted her gaze gently toward him and said, “Perhaps no one else could make me feel so utterly content.”

After all, wasn’t that what the stories in romance novels often said?

Initially, Jiang Wanrou had dismissed those stories as nonsense. However, as time passed, she began to suspect that the issue might not lie with the tales themselves but rather with Lu Feng.

But what could she do? Her husband was no ordinary man—he was the infamous Commander of the Jinglong Bureau! The mere mention of his punishments—flaying, boiling in oil, or execution by lingchi (thousand cuts)—was enough to strike terror. She had witnessed him kick a man to death with her own eyes. Despite his temper mellowing over the years, granting her some confidence, fear still lingered in her heart.

In the beginning, the pain had driven her to bite the edge of the quilt to avoid crying out loud. Over time, she had perhaps grown accustomed to it and found it no longer unbearable. Yet the beauty described in those novels—she had never truly experienced that.

Jiang Wanrou had once lamented this reality, but she had come to accept it. Life wasn’t meant to grant one every joy imaginable; after all, ten out of ten times, life was filled with dissatisfaction.

…

Trying to read Lu Feng’s expression, Jiang Wanrou had aimed to please him. Yet somehow, her words seemed to touch a nerve. His face darkened more and more before he abruptly turned away, his robe sleeve swishing, clearly furious.

His stride revealed a limp—a sharp contrast to his usual measured pace that nearly masked his condition. His formidable physique and rigorous sword and blade training often made even Jiang Wanrou forget that he suffered from a leg ailment.

Life wasn’t meant to grant one every joy imaginable; after all, ten out of ten times, life was filled with dissatisfaction.

She sighed again at this thought, quickly composed herself, and began preparing for the palace banquet. The Emperor’s family banquet was sure to include the royal consorts, so she couldn’t overdress and risk overshadowing the royal daughters-in-law. At the same time, she couldn’t dress too plainly and embarrass Lu Feng. A festive touch was ideal—it would please the Emperor. She also decided to wear the golden hairpin gifted from the palace yesterday.

Jiang Wanrou carefully selected her attire and jewelry, checking herself in the copper mirror. Satisfied with the elegant beauty reflected, she was about to close the jewelry box when inspiration struck. She removed the pearl earrings she had worn and replaced them with silver-threaded red agate pendants. It felt like just the right finishing touch.