She had said three months, and it was exactly three months. Xie Wuling would not delay even a moment.
On the morning of the third day of the eleventh month, he rode at the head of a procession, tall on horseback, with a matchmaker by his side and a seemingly endless line of grand betrothal gifts trailing behind him as he arrived at the Shen residence in Chongren Ward.
The spectacle could only be described as the talk of all Chang’an.
At first, Shen Hui and his wife thought it far too ostentatious. It was, after all, her second marriage, not something to make a great show of.
But Shen Guangting’s single remark changed their minds: “Three months ago, when Yuniang returned home after her separation, plenty of tongues in Chang’an wagged behind her back. Now, with Zhenbei Wang coming so openly, the entire city will see how highly he values her. He’s famous for being bold and brash, if Yuniang is the one he cherishes, who would dare speak ill of her after this?”
Given Xie Wuling’s fiercely protective nature, it wasn’t impossible to imagine him storming into someone’s house and tearing the roof off if they offended her.
And the very day the Shen family agreed to the match, Xie Wuling went straight into the palace to request an imperial decree of marriage.
With the emperor’s golden words as witness, he secured their union.
Once, everyone had known of the marriage between the gentleman of the Pei clan from Hedong and the Shen family’s eldest daughter from Qinghe.
Now, everyone under heaven knew of the marriage between Xie Wuling and Shen Yujiao.
When the imperial edict of marriage was issued, all those who had gossiped before fell silent—
For to question this marriage now would be to question the emperor himself.
And besides—Zhenbei Wang was notorious for defending his own.
Once, during the Mid-Autumn Banquet, a certain censor’s wife had openly sneered that the Shen woman who refused to remain widowed for her late husband was unchaste and disloyal—“a disgrace,” she said. “When I see her, I’ll turn three steps away, lest my eyes be tainted.”
Xie Wuling’s response was to have that same woman’s brother caught drinking with courtesans in Pingkang Ward dragged home, half-dressed, and thrown right before her.
His men even delivered a message: “If the lady is so pure and unsullied, she should cut ties with her brother immediately.”
The brother screamed and tried to cover himself; the lady shrieked and turned away, utter chaos.
Afterward, her husband’s family scolded her, her own kin blamed her, and she hadn’t dared show her face in public since.
When Shen Yujiao heard about it, she said to him, “You’re too reckless. Aren’t you afraid of offending people?”
Xie Wuling only shrugged. “She badmouthed my wife, what did she expect?”
“We’re not married yet,” Shen Yujiao protested, blushing. “Don’t keep calling me that. It’s not proper if someone hears.”
“There’s no one else around right now,” he said, eyes fixed on her faintly pink cheeks.
His heart burned hot in his chest, though he forced himself to restrain it. Looking up at the sky, he sighed softly.
“Ah… may spring come soon.”
The wedding date was set for the sixth day of the third month, a spring day when peach blossoms blazed in full glory.
From the moment the date was fixed, Xie Wuling became the very picture of impatience—
The young shizi, Huo Yunzhang, teased him: “Lady Shen can’t run away from her own house. Why are you in such a hurry?”
The sixteen-year-old Huo Yunzhang had grown into a handsome young man, lips red and teeth white. He had heard that the Zhennan Marquis’s household had already begun arranging a marriage for him, so he could take a wife, secure an heir, and eventually go to Ningzhou to inherit General Huo’s responsibilities.
Because of his looks and being the only son of the Huo family, even though there was a risk of a daughter-in-law being widowed again, many families still vied to propose to him first.
Xie Wuling held his wine cup, casting a sidelong glance at him. “You don’t understand. I’m already well over thirty. Can you blame me for being impatient?”
Besides, his little bride had almost been stolen at the wedding before. Until the very last step, his heart had never settled.
Huo Yunzhang did not know of that painful memory, only offering reassurance: “Soon, soon, just endure until after the New Year, and March will be here before you know it.”
He spoke lightly, but to Xie Wuling, each day felt like a year.
Every morning, the first thing he did was tear a page from the almanac.
Page after page was torn, until one day, it was finally March sixth.
Xie Wuling stood before that page for a long while. After a long moment, he smiled.
Finally.
Ten years of patience, finally, today he could rightfully and properly bring his little bride home.
Dressed again in a bright red wedding robe, he rode a black steed, leading a red bridal sedan carried by sixteen men, amidst the countless congratulatory cheers of Chang’an’s citizens, to fetch his bride.
If Xie Wuling was impatient to the point of bursting, Shen Yujiao was calm and serene.
After all, she was no longer a first-time bride. Counting properly, this was already her third time wearing wedding attire.
She sat quietly before a rhombus-patterned mirror, her maids helping with her eyebrows and makeup, while the matchmaker braided her hair and whispered blessings for everlasting harmony and a hundred years of unity.
Her phoenix coronet and embroidered robe, befitting a princess consort, shimmered brilliantly, exquisite beyond compare.
Beautiful, yes, but heavy to wear.
When she appeared in her crimson wedding gown before Madam Li, Madam Li’s eyes immediately filled with tears. Grabbing her hand, she said, “Beautiful! My Yuniang looks absolutely stunning.”
Not having seen their daughter marry in person had always been a regret for Shen Hui and his wife.
Now that regret was finally redeemed.
Shen Yujiao, radiant in her red robes, earrings glinting in the light, shone like a celestial being.
Di Ge’er, dressed in a vermilion robe, stepped forward. “Mother, you look especially beautiful today.”
Looking at her son, now nearly shoulder-high, Shen Yujiao asked, “Will you blame me?”
“You gave birth to me through so much hardship. How could I have the right to blame you?”
He shook his head, his delicate young face breaking into a smile. “Uncle Xie is wonderful. He treats you well, and he treats me well too.”
He could also tell that his mother was relaxed around Uncle Xie, smiling more often. Uncle Xie always found ways to make her happy.
That was enough.
As a child, he naturally wished his parents well. His father had died young, there was no need for his mother to remain mired in sorrow.
He did not want his mother to become like his grandmother.
With some shyness, he said, “Mother, this is for you.”
From his sleeve, Di Ge’er produced a small red Ruyi double-knot, cheeks tinged with color. “Aunt Bai Ping taught me to make it, to congratulate you and Uncle Xie on your marriage.”
Shen Yujiao took the knot, her gaze lingering on the child’s fine features, feeling a little dazed.
Many years ago, she had also given Pei Shouzhen a Ruyi knot, tied to her white jade button, praying for his safe return.
But that jade had failed to protect him.
A twinge of melancholy arose in her heart, but it was soon blown away by the laughter and bustle outside. Maids in red and green called joyfully:
“The groom is here—”
“Hurry, hurry, bring the bride’s round fan!”
“Hey, why are you standing there? Bring the red silk too!”
“Go ahead and notify the front, tell them everything’s ready here!”
The boudoir was a flurry of activity.
Shen Yujiao held her round fan and, guided by the matchmaker, slowly stepped out of her old boudoir.
In the front hall, a tall figure in bright red stood with hands behind his back. Joy made him upright and proud, and his gaze immediately fell on her, unbroken.
Shen Yujiao, not nervous at first, felt a little of the newlywed’s bashfulness under his gaze and the surrounding laughter. She raised the fan to hide her face.
Xie Wuling stole glimpses whenever he could.
Though he could not see her full face, her side profile was porcelain-like, eyebrows like willows, lips like cherries—so beautiful it stole his breath.
After three bows with her parents, Shen Guangting carried Shen Yujiao out.
“When you were little, I thought about your wedding. I needed to eat more and grow stronger to carry you, so I wouldn’t be embarrassed if I couldn’t manage.”
Shen Guangting carried his sister steadily, his tone tinged with the wistfulness of passing years. “I never thought how quickly the time would pass.”
Shen Yujiao chuckled lightly. “Luckily I’m not that heavy, and you haven’t aged seventy or eighty yet.”
Shen Guangting smiled. “Indeed.”
Once she was placed in the bridal sedan, he looked at his newlywed sister. “From now on, live happily with Guian. And if he ever dares to bully you…”
The words were on his lips, but then he thought of how Xie Wuling behaved in front of his own little sister, utterly obedient, doing exactly as she said, never east when she said west, never south when she said north, thoroughly a wife-slave through and through.
So instead he changed what he was about to say: “As long as you wish, you can always come home. Your brother will take care of you for life.”
Shen Yujiao’s eyes curved with a smile. “Alright.”
By now, whether it was widowhood, divorce, or remarriage, she no longer feared any of it.
Because she had confidence that even without father, brother, husband, or child, she could still find a way to live, to stand tall in this world.
There was nothing left to be afraid of.
The lavish bridal sedan borne by sixteen carriers lifted up amid the deafening crackle of firecrackers. Ten miles of crimson finery, drums and gongs resounding.
The wedding procession circled the city, scattering sweets, wedding pastries, and coins, receiving blessings and congratulations from all around, before arriving at the auspicious hour at Zhenbei Wang’s residence in Qinren Ward.
The marriage had been bestowed by the Emperor, and Yan Wang himself presided over the ceremony.
On the grand red wedding dais, Yan Wang—who had rushed from distant Yanzhou for this day—sat as principal guest, looking at the couple before him with deep satisfaction.
Ah Jing, if your spirit knows, our son is wed today.
No more long journeys over mountains and rivers, no more separation between life and death—he can stay by the side of the one he loves for a lifetime.
His fortune surpasses both ours.
“One bow to Heaven and Earth.”
“Second bow to the parents.”
“Bow to each other as husband and wife.”
“The ceremony is complete—send the couple into the bridal chamber—”
The joyous hall erupted in cheers. “Let’s go tease the bride, go see the new bride!”
Most of Xie Wuling’s guests were generals from Yanbei, loud-voiced and boisterous, howling like wolves.
“Go on, go, all of you, go drink in the front hall,” Xie Wuling laughed as he chased them off. “If you scare my wife, I won’t forgive you.”
The Yanbei generals clicked their tongues. “Tsk, tsk.”
Just look at that lovesick, blissful face, utterly insufferable.
Fending off the rowdy crowd who wanted to crash the bridal room, Xie Wuling personally escorted Shen Yujiao there.
He even tried to follow her inside, but the matron of honor stopped him. “My lord, the sun hasn’t even set yet. You’d best entertain the guests first.”
Xie Wuling didn’t want to leave.
Shen Yujiao knew, it was fear. He feared the past might repeat itself, that the bride he had finally won might once again slip away.
She lowered the golden phoenix-embroidered fan in her hand, revealing eyes curved like crescent moons. “Go on, play host. Don’t let people laugh at you.”
That glimmering gaze beneath the candlelight, before he even touched wine, Xie Wuling already felt half his body go weak.
“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”
He left, light-headed and smiling.
The matron of honor said to Shen Yujiao with a grin, “Your Ladyship is truly blessed. Zhenbei Wang dotes on you completely.”
Shen Yujiao blushed, eyes lowered. She didn’t sit idle, ordering hot water to be prepared and a lighter red gown to be brought.
The phoenix coronet and ceremonial robes were so heavy her neck was about to snap.
In front of Xie Wuling, she didn’t need to stand on ceremony, whatever was comfortable would do.
After bathing, changing, and redoing her hair and makeup, servants came from Xie Wuling’s side bearing food, with his special reminder: don’t foolishly starve yourself—eat well.
Bai Ping, who had served Shen Yujiao for years, had witnessed both of her marriages.
She still remembered when her lady first married her former husband—so young, dressed in scarlet wedding robes, fan in hand, sitting anxiously in the bridal room.
The flowered coronet had left a mark on her brow, yet she hadn’t dared remove it. At the slightest sound outside, she would sit up straight, fan held primly before her.
Now it was so different—bathing, changing, eating, drinking as she pleased…
Truly, times had changed beyond recognition.
Bai Ping was happy for her lady, but as a former servant of the Pei household, she couldn’t help but think of her old master, the man who had once loved her lady so deeply.
Not wanting to dampen the mood, Bai Ping quietly swapped duties with Qiulu and left the red bridal chamber.
Before long, the sun dipped below the horizon, and rows of red lanterns emblazoned with the double happiness character lit up in the violet dusk.
In the front hall, guests filled the room; cups clinked, laughter rose, and the wine flowed freely.
Xie Wuling was being plied with drink by his brothers from Yanbei. Yan Wang, eager for a grandchild, watched them surround Xie Wuling and couldn’t help but cough meaningfully. “Enough, enough. You can drink another day, he’s got proper business to attend to tonight.”
At his word, the generals finally let him go.
They winked at Xie Wuling. “Brother Xie, a night of springtime bliss is worth a thousand in gold, don’t keep your bride waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah, hurry along!”
“Can you still walk? If not, we’ll carry you over ourselves.”
“Screw off.”
Xie Wuling was somewhat drunk, his cheeks flushed crimson.
That faint intoxication softened his sharp, battle-hardened features, lending him a touch of youthful allure like a dashing young man leaning on a bridge, red sleeves beckoning from the windows above.
As he approached the brightly lit courtyard, his steps were light and quick.
But at the threshold, a sudden shyness caught him.
He waved off the servants’ greetings, straightened his robes, and sniffed at himself—no unpleasant wine smell.
Only then did he push open the door to the bridal chamber.
The moment had come at last.
His bride was waiting for him inside the red-lit room.
Xie Wuling’s long fingers clenched slightly, trying to suppress the tremor of excitement.
Yet when his eyes fell upon the slender beauty by the bed, her black hair cascading, her skin pale as snow, clothed in scarlet silk, bathed in candlelight, his heart gave a sudden, violent throb.
“Jiaojiao,” he called, his voice hoarse enough to startle even himself.
Shen Yujiao lifted her eyes and saw his face flushed red, his gaze hazy with wine, and assumed he was thoroughly drunk.
“How did you drink this much?” she said, turning to the maid. “Bring sobering soup.”
Warmth stirred in Xie Wuling’s chest. Having a wife really was different, even when drunk, someone made sure you had soup.
“I’m not drunk. I’m very clear-headed.”
He stopped the maid, then found the room full of people annoying and waved his hand. “You all can leave.”
The matron of honor hesitated. “But the nuptial wine hasn’t been drunk yet.”
“I know the process,” Xie Wuling said. “Everyone out.”
He’d attended enough weddings over the years to know exactly how it went.
Since the master had spoken, no one dared argue. They all withdrew.
Soon, only the newlyweds remained in the bridal room.
Sitting quietly by the bed, Shen Yujiao felt that something about Xie Wuling seemed different tonight.
Usually, when they were together, he might act a little teasing or frivolous, but one glare from her and he’d rein it in immediately.
But the look he was giving her now, languid, heavy-lidded, and perilous, made her heart skip a beat.
Her pulse quickened. Lowering her lashes, she murmured, “Shall we drink the nuptial wine now, or… would you like to wash first?”
“Let’s drink the wine first.”
Xie Wuling walked over to the table, poured two cups, then came back to sit beside her. “Here.”
Shen Yujiao took the cup from his hand. When she glanced up, her eyes met his direct, unwavering gaze.
Too direct. Not the least bit restrained.
She couldn’t stand it, turned her head aside. “Don’t… don’t stare at me like that.”
“Why not?” he asked.
Shen Yujiao: “…”
How could he even ask that?
Knowing she couldn’t win an argument, she bit her lip and forced composure. “Well—are you drinking or not?”
“Drinking.”
He lifted his cup. She lifted hers. Their arms entwined, and they drank together.
While they drank, his wine-dimmed peach blossom eyes never left her face.
Shen Yujiao was sure her cheeks must be scarlet, she didn’t need to touch them to feel the heat burning from her face to her ears.
When she set her cup down, she mumbled, “Go wash up. You reek of wine.”
He sniffed at his sleeve. “Do I?”
He’d checked before coming in, didn’t smell anything to him.
Without looking at him, she said softly, “You do.”
“Alright, I’ll wash. But…”
He turned to her. “Jiaojiao, look up at me first.”
Startled, she blinked but raised her face to meet his gaze.
Their eyes met and once they did, she couldn’t look away.
Xie Wuling’s dark pupils glimmered with a deep, burning light. “I want to kiss you first.”
Shen Yujiao: “…!”
Her ears went up in flames. H-he—how could he just say that?!
“You didn’t say no, so I’ll take that as yes.”
His throat moved; he was nervous, but deep inside, a long-suppressed voice told him—They were husband and wife now, rightfully so. It was their wedding night.
He could kiss her. Hold her. Do all the things lovers could do.
Before Shen Yujiao could react, his broad palm slid to her slender waist, his other hand cupped her face, and his flushed, handsome face drew closer.
She went rigid, mind blank, the world shrinking until there was nothing but him and the thunder of her own heartbeat in her ears.
Then his lips, warm and faintly scented of wine, pressed against hers.
Gentle. Soft.
At first, he only brushed lightly and just when she thought he would pull away, he kissed her again.
This time, bolder, his tongue prying at her lips.
Shen Yujiao’s mind went blank.
The long fingers at her waist tightened; Xie Wuling’s voice came low and rough: “Jiaojiao, open your mouth.”
She didn’t even know why somehow, she obeyed.
When his hot, deft tongue slipped in and tangled with hers, she finally came to her senses—
What am I doing, listening to him like this?!
And wasn’t he supposed to have never been with a woman before? How could his first kiss be this skilled?!
Good heavens—she’d thought, in such matters, she would be the composed one between them.
But reality was entirely different.
He was too good at this.
Beside him, she was a block of wood—stiff, passive, held in his arms as he drew her close until her body softened against him.
It felt almost like a dream.
Shen Yujiao was dazed, her heart pounding, especially as the faint, wet sound of kissing filled the air—she wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor.
How could this be happening…
“Focus,” he murmured, his calloused fingertips pinching lightly at her earlobe.
It was like a jolt of current—her strength melted, and a small, helpless sound slipped from her throat.
Hearing it, Xie Wuling loosened his hold slightly and looked down at the little beauty completely folded into his arms.
In the warm candlelight, her pale cheeks were flushed crimson—whether from his kisses or from embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. Her dark eyes shimmered, liquid and glistening.
The lip rouge on her mouth had been completely tasted away by him; from their prolonged kissing, her lips were swollen and red, slightly parted, revealing a hint of soft pink tongue—wordless and enticing.
Xie Wuling’s Adam’s apple moved. He asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong? You don’t like it… or are you uncomfortable?”
Shen Yujiao was already mortified by how her body had responded; hearing him ask so directly, her face burned even hotter.
But Xie Wuling was still earnestly curious. “If it’s uncomfortable, should I try a different way of kissing?”
Shen Yujiao wished she could cover her ears. Her lashes trembled. “You… stop talking.”
Seeing that, Xie Wuling understood.
She was shy.
“There’s nothing to be shy about.”
He bent down, brushing her delicate cheek with a kiss. “We’re husband and wife now.”
“And between husband and wife… it’s meant to be a happy thing.”
Though he’d never had any “practical” experience, growing up in Qinhuai among the pleasure boats and at his age, he was hardly some clueless youth.
When Shen Yujiao saw his words getting more and more improper, she reached out to push him. “You’ve already kissed me, go bathe now.”
But the hand that pushed him was caught; he brought it to his lips and kissed it.
“My sweet Jiaojiao.”
He held her soft, fragrant body tighter and lowered his head again. “Let me kiss you a little longer?”
He couldn’t bear to let go, absolutely couldn’t.
If he didn’t know she couldn’t handle too much yet, he’d have scooped her up and carried her straight to bathe together, just to keep her close every moment.
Without giving Shen Yujiao the chance to refuse, his lips came down again.
This time, the kiss was fiercer like before had only been testing her limits.
No one knew how long it went on; when Shen Yujiao was nearly breathless, and when the hard, insistent heat pressing against her was impossible to ignore, she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She raised a trembling hand and covered his mouth. “No more kissing!”
Did he ever stop?
The man who had been devouring her kisses just a moment ago froze, then drooped his lashes, looking utterly wronged. “Jiaojiao, you’re scolding me.”
Shen Yujiao: “…?”
How was she the fierce one here when he was the one acting like that?
Closing her eyes, she bit her lip and said, “Just… go wash.”
Xie Wuling was struggling too; if they kept going, he might not be able to stop himself.
It was their first time—he should at least leave a good impression.
Suppressing the heat coiling low in his belly, he brushed a restrained kiss against the corner of her lips. “I’ll be back soon.”
When he left, Shen Yujiao instantly felt how wide and cool the bed suddenly seemed. Even the air wasn’t as hot as before.
But then she thought of what he’d said and of what she’d felt pressing against her while he held her and her eyelids twitched twice.
A little panic crept in.
He was a soldier, after all, and it was his first time with a woman.
She’d thought, since he was inexperienced, maybe she’d have to guide him but clearly, she’d been far too naïve.
Shen Yujiao had the uneasy feeling she was in for a rough night.
And as it turned out, her premonition was right.
After bathing, the freshly washed man soon returned to the bridal chamber. With those earlier kisses between them, there was no need for many words. He slipped off his shoes, climbed into bed, and reached up to unhook the golden clasps holding the canopy.
The scarlet bridal curtains embroidered with “a hundred sons and a thousand blessings” fell around them. As the fabric swayed, faint rustles followed—silk socks, outer robes, sleeping garments—
One by one, they slid to the floor.
“Xie… Xie Wuling…” her voice trembled slightly, flustered.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“…”
Easier said than done.
His kisses found her again, his breath warm against her ear. “Jiaojiao, you’re so beautiful.”
So beautiful he couldn’t look away.
“Don’t look…”
Her voice cracked, tinged with tears. She didn’t know whether to cover herself or cover his eyes.
In the end, she managed neither, her slender wrists were caught in his long fingers and pinned gently above her head.
“Jiaojiao.”
“Jiaojiao…”
“Jiaojiao, I love you.”
“Love you so much. So, so much…”
The red dragon-and-phoenix candles burned bright; golden light flickered over the swaying crimson canopy, and behind it, two shadows merged and shifted faintly.
—
By the time the wedding feast in the front courtyard had ended, the spring warmth in the rear courtyard had not yet faded.
The wax tears had pooled and hardened layer upon layer. Inside the tent, the air was fragrant with sweat and musk. Only when the eastern sky began to pale did all finally grow still.
When the morning rooster crowed, a faint, hoarse female voice murmured from within the bedcurtains, “Shouldn’t we go offer tea to Yan Wang…?”
“No need.”
“Huh?”
“I already told him last night. We’ll go this afternoon.”
“You—you said that to him?” How could he have brought up something like that to his elder?
“Don’t worry about it.”
The man’s voice was lazy, thick with satisfaction. He pulled the warm, soft body in his arms closer. “Sleep a bit more.”
“But…”
“If you say ‘but’ again, I’ll kiss you.”
“…”
Silence immediately fell inside the canopy.
Wrapped tightly in his arms, Shen Yujiao shut her eyes and cursed him inwardly.
Xie Wuling, you b*stard.
Utterly shameless, first-class b*stard.
—
That day, they didn’t make it to offer tea until the afternoon.
By the time the sun dipped westward and turned the sky to molten gold, Shen Yujiao was being helped by Xie Wuling to pay their respects—her usual composure nowhere to be found.
In her heart, she’d already cursed him a hundred and eighty times.
It was all his fault.
She had already told him to get up, but he had to start fooling around again.
He was clearly the one bullying her, yet he always turned the tables—calling her fierce, or pretending to be pitiful, holding her and saying, “Jiaojiao, I’m almost thirty-four already. At my age, other men could be grandfathers by now.”
Whenever he said that, Shen Yujiao had no way to win. She could only bite her lip and urge, “Hurry up.”
“Alright, I’ll hurry.”
But before long, she changed her tune, voice breathless and weak: “S-slower…”
And whenever it got to that point, Xie Wuling would suddenly play dumb, pretending not to hear, continuing however he pleased, bold and unrelenting.
Shen Yujiao absolutely hated him then.
And yet, shameless as ever, he would murmur against her ear, “You like it, you always…”
Shen Yujiao immediately clapped a hand over that wicked mouth of his.
The things he said in bed were utterly indecent.
Later, when she finally managed to sit properly and serve tea to Yan Wang, no matter how generous the gift or how kind the advice, Shen Yujiao didn’t dare lift her eyes the entire time.
Partly because she feared his authority.
Partly because she was mortified—what kind of daughter-in-law went to offer tea to her elders at sunset?
That night, back in the bridal chamber, she made three strict rules with Xie Wuling:
No doing this.
No doing that.
Xie Wuling agreed to everything—verbally.
But once the candles were blown out and he rolled onto the bed, all that was left were murmurs of “Good Jiaojiao,” “Be good,” “My sweetheart,” whispered hotly against her ear, until her face burned and she couldn’t fight back at all.
When they returned to her maiden home, the Shen family saw the couple clinging to each other and finally felt reassured.
Only after they entered the back courtyard and shut the door did Madam Li take Shen Yujiao’s hand and ask with concern, “Why are your eyes dark underneath? Didn’t sleep well?”
Shen Yujiao didn’t even know how to answer.
Not just “didn’t sleep well”—she’d barely slept at all these past three days.
Madam Li took one look at her daughter’s blush and understood, coughing awkwardly. “Well… the son-in-law only just married at his age. It’ll get better in a few days.”
But in her heart, she couldn’t help but grumble—typical rough soldier, no sense of gentleness.
Shen Yujiao had thought the same: surely after a few days he would calm down.
But he didn’t.
Once a man got a taste of meat, he only grew clingier—calling her Jiaojiao this, Jiaojiao that every single day.
Two husbands in one lifetime—the first taciturn, the second a chatterbox.
Shen Yujiao: “…”
Sigh.
Luckily, after a few days, her monthly cycle came.
The man finally settled down.
That day, as they ate together, they discussed bringing Di Ge’er into the household soon. After all, only when the whole family lived under one roof could things be truly complete.
They were still chatting when Bai Ping suddenly came rushing in, drenched in sweat.
“Madam! Madam!”
She was trembling, pointing outside. “Outside—outside…”
Xie Wuling raised an eyebrow. “How about you take a breath first?”
But Bai Ping shook her head hard, eyes wide. “The young master—he’s back! The young master has returned!”
Both Shen Yujiao and Xie Wuling froze.
Because the “young master” she referred to could only mean that man.
If she were talking about Di Ge’er, she would have said “the young little master.”
After three long heartbeats of silence, Xie Wuling narrowed his eyes. “Pei Shouzhen?”
Bai Ping nodded furiously. “Yes, yes!”
She drew in another breath to explain but in the next instant, a blur of motion passed before her eyes.
One moment, her mistress was sitting at the table eating; the next, she was swept up, bowl and all, into the arms of Zhenbei Wang.
“Guards! Close the gates—now!”
“Seal them tight!”
Shen Yujiao still had half a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks in her hands, dazed, when Xie Wuling carried her straight into the bedchamber.
“Xie Wuling, you—”
The door slammed shut and locked from the inside.
He set aside the bowl and chopsticks, his lips pressing down in a trail of burning kisses. “Jiaojiao, you’re mine.”
Pei Shouzhen, Pei whatever—he didn’t care.
This time, he would never let anyone take her away again.
Never.
==【Main Story Complete】==
Another novel completed!!! Thank you to all the readers who joined us on this journey and supported my translations, it really does mean a lot!!! <3 If you enjoyed the translations and the novel, please make sure to give the novel a good rating and review on Novelupdates or donate on Ko-fi or Paypal <3P.S. Go check out the other amazing novels being translated on this site :))
