Seeing her smile so strangely, Xing Muzheng couldn’t help but suspect. He pulled her over to interrogate. “How exactly did I come back?”
“You walked back, of course.”
“What nonsense did I say?”
“You didn’t say anything, you were perfectly fine.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.” She said it with her mouth, but in her heart she sighed—ah, men! They won’t admit they’ve acted spoiled, and they don’t believe your words either. Truly hard to serve! She deliberately asked, “Why did you drink so much yesterday?”
He stiffened a little, muttered vaguely, “Drank too much with that bunch of soldiers.”
She laughed aloud. As expected, once sober he wouldn’t tell the truth. This block of wood—he didn’t know how much she loved hearing his true heart.
Sensing something, Xing Muzheng lifted his head sharply. “What are you laughing at?”
“Did I laugh?”
“You did.”
She solemnly shook her head. “My lord must have seen wrong.”
He arched his brow. Seeing the slyness in her eyes, he knew she wasn’t being honest. Who knew what handle he had given her last night, but she was keeping it to herself. Of course he couldn’t bear to punish her, but knowing she was ticklish, he reached out and scratched her. Qian Jiaoniang fell back on the bed laughing, and he leaned over her, pressing her down.
Truth be told, he had been a little annoyed. He hadn’t wanted to drink himself senseless last night. On his birthday, he had planned to bully his delicate wife a bit, maybe even try some things she usually wouldn’t allow. But those sly fellows had grasped his weakness—when they praised the clothes Jiaoniang had embroidered for him, he was delighted; when they congratulated their eternal union, he couldn’t refuse to drink, lest it seem unlucky. Anything related to Jiaoniang—he never refused. Even with a strong tolerance, he couldn’t withstand it.
A pity for the fine night he had wasted.
Qian Jiaoniang, seeing his ardor rise again, pushed his head away. “You stink—go wash first!”
Just then, a maid outside came to call, saying the bathwater in the cleansing room was ready. Xing Muzheng had no choice but to get up, but before leaving he still said:
“Don’t you go out.”
That hint made Qian Jiaoniang’s face flush red. She spat lightly, scolding him to hurry and leave.
But Qian Jiaoniang had no intention of shamelessly waiting for him to return so they could indulge in daytime pleasures. She turned back to tidy the bedding, but the quilt reeked of wine. Seeing that it wasn’t raining outside, she carried it out to air. The maids waiting in the outer room, seeing her come out with the quilt, hurried over to take it from her hands.
Qian Jiaoniang handed the quilt to them and instructed them to set breakfast.
“Has Chou’er gotten up yet? Will he come eat with us?”
“Young master rose early, my lady. He went out with the honored guest in the courtyard.”
Qian Jiaoniang started slightly, almost having forgotten about the guest staying in the courtyard. After a moment’s thought, she nodded without saying more, nor did she order anyone to call Xing Pingchun back.
Xing Muzheng came out from his bath to see Qian Jiaoniang sitting properly in the outer room, and gave her a meaningful glance. Qian Jiaoniang pretended not to notice, instead rising and saying, “Why is your hair this wet!”
She personally dried his hair for him, then ate breakfast together with him. Xing Muzheng also asked about Xing Pingchun, so Qian Jiaoniang repeated what the servants had just told her. Xing Muzheng bit into a large steamed bun and didn’t comment further.
“What are you planning to do about that guest?” Qian Jiaoniang asked after dismissing the servants.
“He’s just a traveling scholar come to study at the academy. What plan would I have?”
The unspoken meaning was that by giving Wu Ze such an identity, he would be hidden safely in Yuzhou. Hearing that he already had made up his mind, Qian Jiaoniang asked no more. But one matter from last night still weighed on her heart. “Yesterday I noticed among Miss Zhao’s relatives there was a craftsman. Perhaps—”
“No,” Xing Muzheng said flatly.
“What do you mean no…” Qian Jiaoniang narrowed her eyes. “You went to check?” He had already spotted the suspicion and gone to examine Miss Zhao’s body?
Xing Muzheng immediately clarified: “I didn’t go. I sent Chunwu to check.” This jealous vinegar jar—if he didn’t make it clear, she might cause trouble again.
Qian Jiaoniang thought to herself she really should have asked Chunwu more questions.
But Xing Muzheng’s gaze flickered. “Why are you concerned with this matter?”
