Chasing Jade (Zhu Yu)

In the neighboring courtyard, Aunt Zhao crouched beneath the windowsill but heard no sounds of argument or any other commotion from inside, which struck her as odd.

Xie Wu and Xie Qi stepped outside and witnessed this scene, then silently retreated back inside, closing the door behind them.

Zhao Mu Jiang stood under the eaves and coughed twice to get Aunt Zhao's attention before also entering the house.

Aunt Zhao glanced back once more at the eerily silent main room before tiptoeing back to her own quarters. As she closed the door, she glared at Zhao Mu Jiang and said, "You think I was eavesdropping? I was just worried about that young couple—they seemed off, and I was afraid they might be fighting."

Zhao Mu Jiang was equally puzzled about Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng's current situation. He replied, "When Changyu came to me after being taken away for dam construction, she mentioned she and Yan Zheng had already divorced."

This news shocked Aunt Zhao. "Nonsense!" she blurted out, forgetting to keep her voice down in her agitation. After quickly checking outside, she sat on the bed and continued, "When Yan Zheng was conscripted, Changyu was gloomy for days and packed him all sorts of supplies. That doesn't seem like a divorced couple! Besides, didn't they share a room after I talked to them?"

Zhao Mu Jiang then recounted Fan Changyu's earlier explanation to him.

Upon learning their marriage had initially been a sham, Aunt Zhao was first astonished, then reconsidered. Given Yan Zheng's education, good looks, and willingness to be a live-in son-in-law, it did align with Zhao Mu Jiang's account.

Sitting anxiously on the bedside, she mused, "Even if their marriage wasn't voluntary at first, they did properly bow to heaven and earth as husband and wife. How can they not be married? A man and woman living under the same roof every day—especially two as exceptionally good-looking as them—how could feelings not develop? Remember when Yan Zheng was bedridden from his injuries? Despite their poverty, Changyu still bought him sweets because she worried the medicine was too bitter! Such shared hardship can't be fake!"

Zhao Mu Jiang glanced at Changning, who was subtly eavesdropping, and sighed. "Enough, enough. Those two have probably reconciled by now. Ning Niang is here—let's not discuss this further."

Changning blinked her large, bright eyes.

Aunt Zhao removed the silk flower from her little bun, pinched her chubby cheeks, and smiled. "Our Ning Niang is blessed too. Your elder sister now holds a military position commanding many people. No future husband of yours would dare bully you!"

Changning grinned, revealing her tiny white teeth, then added thoughtfully while counting on her fingers, "Brother-in-law is strong, Uncle Xie Qi is strong, and Sunsun is strong too! No one bullies Ning Niang!"

Aunt Zhao laughed. "Such a clever little imp."

After putting Changning to bed, Aunt Zhao lay awake, her thoughts returning to another matter.

According to the old man, had that young couple still not consummated their marriage?

While hoping for their happiness, Aunt Zhao worried about Fan Changyu's military duties—a pregnancy would be extremely inconvenient. These concerns kept her tossing and turning all night, even tempting her several times to sneak next door and listen at the wall.

The next morning, Fan Changyu was pulled aside by Aunt Zhao as soon as she woke up.She had slept soundly through the night, but for some reason, Aunt Zhao's dark circles under her already baggy eyes looked particularly alarming.

Fan Changyu asked in confusion, "Auntie, did you not sleep at all last night?"

Aunt Zhao glanced around before lowering her voice. "Changyu, your mother passed early, and you have no elder to guide you. Since I see you as my own child, I'll speak plainly. Now that you're in the army, if you were to have a child, it would be inconvenient. Should I find a physician to prepare a contraceptive tonic for you?"

Fan Changyu hadn't expected this to be Aunt Zhao's concern. Her face instantly flushed crimson down to her neck as she shook her head. "No need."

Hearing this answer, Aunt Zhao wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or continue worrying about the young couple.

While she was still conflicted, Fan Changyu had already gone to the courtyard to fetch water for washing.

Even in summer, the well water was still chilly in the morning.

Seeing her wash her face with cold water, Aunt Zhao couldn’t help but nag, worried that the cold would seep into her body, and urged her to fetch hot water from the kitchen instead.

Fan Changyu, with her robust constitution, paid no mind to Aunt Zhao’s words. But when Changning also reached out to dip her hands into the basin, seemingly ready to wash her face with the cold water, Fan Changyu wouldn’t allow it. She made Changning withdraw her hands and obediently go to the kitchen for hot water.

After washing Changning’s face, Fan Changyu yawned and haphazardly tied the little girl’s hair into a bun by feel.

The child, who used to accept whatever hairstyle she was given, now looked at her reflection in the water basin and pouted in dissatisfaction. "I want Uncle Xie Qi to do it."

Fan Changyu glanced at the messy bun she had tied and felt a twinge of guilt.

The child had grown up and now cared about appearances—no longer as easy to fool as before.

"Fine," she said. "Go find your Uncle Xie Qi then."

Changning picked up her comb and toddled across the threshold in search of Xie Qi. She checked every room but couldn’t find him. Hearing faint voices from the main chamber, she scampered over and pushed the door open—only to burst into terrified sobs.

Inside, Xie Zheng stood with his back to the door, his upper body bare. Bloodied white cloths lay scattered at his feet, and a gruesome gash stretched across most of his back, raw and crimson. Xie Qi was applying medicine to the wound.

At Changning’s cry, Xie Qi immediately realized the situation had taken a bad turn. His master had specifically waited until Fan Changyu was out before summoning him to tend to the injury—now, it seemed, the secret was out.

Sure enough, though Xie Zheng hastily pulled on an inner robe, Fan Changyu arrived at the door moments later, drawn by Changning’s cries.

The sight of the bloodstained cloths on the floor made her expression darken. She lifted her gaze directly to Xie Zheng. "You're injured?"

Xie Zheng fastened his robe and replied, "A minor wound."

Fan Changyu’s brows knitted tightly. The amount of bloodied cloth told her the injury was anything but minor—no wonder he had relied almost entirely on finesse rather than force when sparring with her last night.

She crouched to comfort Changning with a few pats on the shoulder, then said to Xie Qi, "Brother Xie Qi, would you mind taking my sister outside first? She was frightened last time and is afraid of blood."

Xie Qi coaxed Changning out of the room.

Fan Changyu closed the door and turned back, her face still expressionless as she looked at Xie Zheng. "Let me see the wound on your back."

Xie Zheng’s elegant brows furrowed slightly. He hadn’t expected Fan Changyu to discover this. Evading the request, he said, "The medicine’s already been applied."Fan Changyu stared at him, enunciating each word clearly, "I said, let me see."

The two stood locked in a stalemate for a moment. When Xie Zheng still didn't move, Fan Changyu stepped forward directly to undo his sash.

As Xie Zheng caught her hand, she dared not struggle too hard for fear of reopening the wounds on his back, but her expression turned extremely unpleasant.

Her almond-shaped eyes were cold and sharp, her tone uncharacteristically forceful: "Either take off your clothes, or leave right now and never appear before me again."

Xie Zheng's grip on her wrist didn't loosen. His narrow phoenix eyes lowered slightly, long lashes casting a graceful arc. His jawline appeared somewhat pale in the morning light filtering through the window screen as he lazily teased, "Why does your tone sound like you're forcing a decent woman into prostitution?"

Fan Changyu's lips pressed into a tight line. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

Xie Zheng met her gaze. It was the first time he'd seen Fan Changyu so assertive—those usually clear, harmless almond eyes now sharp and aggressive.

Like a lazy cat suddenly transforming into a tiger capable of tearing prey apart effortlessly.

Yet that very look seemed to hook into Xie Zheng's heartstrings.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he lowered his lashes, suppressing the urge to seize her chin and kiss her deeply at that moment. Instead, he obediently undid his sash again. Raising his eyes slightly, the dark pupils appeared lighter in the dawn light, exceptionally beautiful, his profile even gilded with a soft glow.

His long fingers loosened the ties, revealing faint small scars. The body hidden beneath the robes wasn't as refined and elegant as his face suggested, but rather lean, muscular, exuding an almost oppressive presence.

This wasn't Fan Changyu's first time seeing Xie Zheng shirtless, but previously he'd either been injured and lying down or obscured by moonlight—never this clearly visible.

When her eyes met Xie Zheng's intensely predatory gaze, her previously gathered momentum faltered. She pursed her lips, averting her eyes from his taut abdomen to check the wounds on his back.

Seeing the long diagonal gash amidst crisscrossed old scars, Fan Changyu fell silent for a long moment before asking hoarsely, "How did this happen?"

Xie Zheng didn't answer, only saying, "It doesn't hurt."

Fan Changyu glared at him with reddened eyes. "I asked how you got this wound?"

When he still refused to answer, Fan Changyu stared at him and voiced her suspicion: "Was it that bastard surnamed Sui who did this?"

She could say anything else, but misunderstanding that Sui Yuanqing had injured him finally made Xie Zheng speak: "I did it myself."

Seeing Fan Changyu looking at him like he was insane, he couldn't quite explain his thoughts at that moment, only fixing her with his dark eyes: "I used my blood to consecrate your blade."

Fan Changyu indeed cursed him: "Madman!"

But the redness in her eyes deepened. She pushed him down onto a chair, grabbing the half-used травма medicine bottle from the table to tend his wounds, forcing her voice to remain cold and hard: "If there's a next time, I won't care if you die in pain! And I won't want that damned blade either!"

The травма medicine burned fiercely when applied, like salt rubbed into fire. As Fan Changyu scolded him, Xie Zheng rested his hands on the chair arms but couldn't help smiling.

His dark, obsessive thoughts—those abnormal tendencies—hadn't made her fear or loathe him. Instead, they'd earned her compassion.His scars were mottled like moss in a dark alley, damp and clammy, yet his sun still chose to shine upon him.

The gloomy haze that had settled in his heart seemed to dissipate considerably.

Fan Changyu finished applying the medicine and rewrapped his bandages. Seeing he still had the energy to smile, she couldn’t resist teasing, “Has the pain addled your brain?”

Xie Zheng took advantage of her reaching around his back to secure the bandage and pulled her into an embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder. His voice carried a lazy note as he said, “I was just thinking about the doll you promised me. It makes me happy.”

Fan Changyu tied the knot and shot him a glare—

As for what kind of doll to give Xie Zheng, Fan Changyu had pondered it for quite a while.

She had initially considered molding a pair of clay figurines, but remembering how eagerly Xie Zheng awaited it—and how easily clay dolls could break—she decided to carve a pair of wooden dolls instead after watching Zhao Mu Jiang at his carpentry.

Zhao Mu Jiang was not only skilled at crafting furniture but also at carving intricate designs on chests and cabinets, each piece lifelike.

However, Fan Changyu had no prior experience in woodworking and couldn’t produce anything polished in such a short time. Fortunately, her years of wielding a knife had given her a steady hand.

With only a single day’s leave from the army—having returned yesterday afternoon and needing to go back this afternoon—she had only half a day to learn carving from Zhao Mu Jiang.

While Fan Changyu practiced in her room with a pile of leftover wood scraps from Zhao Mu Jiang’s furniture-making, Xie Zheng frowned at the stack of blank paper on the table. Tapping his fingers lightly on the desk, he asked uncertainly, “You want me to copy this book for you?”

Without looking up, Fan Changyu replied, “Last time, my foster father tested me on Zhuangzi , and I recited a line wrong. He punished me by making me copy that passage ten times.”

Xie Zheng flipped through the pristine sheets, noticing only the top page bore a few lines of writing. Slowly lifting his gaze to Fan Changyu, he said, “So you haven’t even finished one copy yet?”

Even without meeting his eyes, Fan Changyu felt a pang of guilt. She kept her head down, whittling the wood, and tried to sound firm. “I’ve memorized it. But my foster father said my handwriting was too messy and insisted I copy it neatly ten times. That’s why it’s taking so long.”

Xie Zheng picked up the top sheet, studied it for a moment, and remarked, “Your handwriting is indeed… unrefined.”

Fan Changyu snapped, “Are you going to help me or not?”

Xie Zheng said, “My handwriting is different from yours. Mimicking yours would be… challenging.”

She caught his implication—he couldn’t write that poorly.

Her grip on the knife tightened. After a deep breath, she conceded, “Fine, I’ll do it myself. The wood carving won’t be done anytime soon anyway. I’ll practice more when I have time.”

She set down the wood and boning knife, reaching for the stack of paper in front of Xie Zheng—only for his long fingers to press down on the edges.

Fan Changyu looked up, unsurprised to see Xie Zheng’s dark, handsome face scowling at her.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if resigned to her whims, and sighed. “Fine. Your handwriting won’t improve in a day or two. I’ll copy it for you.”

Having gotten her way, Fan Changyu narrowed her eyes, her lips curling into a smug, catlike grin. She picked up the boning knife and resumed carving the wood.Xie Zheng dipped his brush into the thick ink and glanced at the person sitting cross-legged opposite him, wholly absorbed in carving wood. Sunlight filtered through the gauze window, casting a radiant glow upon her hair. The characters on the paper before him, however, bore little resemblance to their owner's delicate appearance...

A helpless smile tugged at his lips as he continued writing, mimicking her handwriting with a tenderness in his eyes that even he was unaware of.