A hand reached over and pressed against her forehead without warning. Xin Mei felt her little heart in her chest about to leap out, her legs going weak with panic.
What was he doing?! Not here, surely? This place... wasn't very convenient! According to the steps in the books, shouldn't it be on a beautiful, soft bed, where you take off one of my things, I take off one of yours, and so on?
"You have a fever."
Lu Qianqiao's voice sounded behind her ear, warm breath sending goosebumps all over her body.
What had he said? She was too agitated to hear clearly...
"You shouldn't have drunk so much. Come, I'll take you back to your room."
Another hand grabbed the back of her clothes without hesitation, lifted her up, and then tucked her under his arm like a sack of rice.
How strange. Shouldn't he be holding her properly in his arms? At the very least, carrying her on his back? What was this sack-of-rice treatment?!
Xin Mei strained to lift her head and look at him. "Lu Qianqiao, this is really uncomfortable."
His expression was completely calm, not a trace of tenderness, his voice steady. "Being drunk is uncomfortable. Bear with it a little longer, we'll be there soon."
She was stunned. "I'm not drunk!"
He didn't respond. Of course—drunk people never admitted they were drunk.
"I'm really not drunk!"
She just wanted to mentally prepare herself, was that so difficult?
He adjusted his arm, finally changing his posture—from carrying a rice sack to shouldering a rice sack. Xin Mei silently shed two lines of miserable tears. So in his heart, she was no different from a sack of rice.
Xin Mei's courtyard was right next to Xin Xiong's, small and delicate, filled with plum blossoms planted by Xin Xiong based on the "mei" in her name. Originally, Xin Xiong had named his daughter "Xin Mei," because his wife's name contained the character for plum, reflecting their deep marital affection. Later, they consulted Yuqing Xianren for a fortune reading, which revealed Xin Mei's fate lacked the water element in the five phases. Thus, "Mei" was changed to "Mei" (Mei), and following Yuqing Xianren's advice, they planted plum blossoms all over her courtyard, symbolizing resilience and purity—supposedly very beneficial for future marital prospects.
But as for benefits... she really couldn't see any!
Tearfully, Xin Mei was carried into her room by Lu Qianqiao, who promptly tied her up with the Demon Binding Rope. Forced to lie on the bed, she bared her teeth in protest. "Lu Qianqiao! You're tying me up again!"
He ignored her completely, wringing out a cloth in cold water before walking over to lift her head with one hand and gently wipe her face with the other. His movements were tender yet clumsy, as if afraid of hurting her.
How could he be like this? Every time, he seemed so considerate and affectionate on the outside, but his actions always missed the mark. What kind of husband in the world would use a Demon Binding Rope to tie up his own wife? First, he was the one who captured and imprisoned her. Then, he was the one who broke off the engagement, leaving her as the abandoned bride on their wedding day. Later, he was the one who came back with a grand proposal, saying they should truly become husband and wife. And now, he insisted she was drunk and tied her up with the Demon Binding Rope again—
Him, him, him... truly, a man's heart is as unfathomable as the ocean's depths!
Being married was harder than having children.
Seeing her motionless and silent, only staring at him with wide eyes, Lu Qianqiao touched her forehead again. This time, it wasn't burning—her skin was cool and damp. He lingered on the sensation, fingers brushing lightly before slowly withdrawing."...Are you still feeling unwell?" he asked softly.
She snorted disdainfully through her nose, refusing to answer.
Lu Qianqiao hesitated: "You've been acting strange today."
"You're the strange one!" she snapped angrily. "Lu Qianqiao, I hate you! Starting today, right now—I hate you from the soles of my feet!"
He remained unfazed, simply tucking in the blanket corners: "You're heavily drunk. Go to sleep."
"You've still got me tied up! How am I supposed to sleep like this?"
He paused briefly, looking concerned: "Xin Mei, if you keep dismantling things, there won't be anything left of the Sinister Clan."
Her pouting lips could have hung an oil bottle: "That's nonsense! I wasn't... I didn't... I just..."
"What?" He looked utterly confused.
"Nothing! Untie me now!"
The Demon Binding Rope was quickly withdrawn. Xin Mei scrambled off the bed, turning her back to him: "I won't marry you! Get out!"
Lu Qianqiao ignored her childish tantrum, instead looking around the room with a faint smile: "So this is where you live."
His understanding of women's quarters was limited to Li Chao Yang's. As a noble War Ghost widow, her chambers were austere and simple, with an entire wall hung with various divine weapons—not a trace of femininity to be seen.
Xin Mei's room was completely different.
Delicate gossamer curtains the color of sunset hung before the moon-shaped window. A yellow rosewood cabinet held several books scattered haphazardly, without any opulent vases or coral decorations. Instead, the surface was crowded with wooden mechanical figurines, colorful clay dolls, and all manner of peculiar toys—clearly not the standard young lady's boudoir from storybooks, but brimming with Xin Mei's distinctive character.
On a small cabinet pressed against the bedhead sat two familiar-looking dolls—his creations of the Celestial Lady and the General. One was resplendent in dazzling colors, the other majestic with raised saber. The painted faces of both dolls showed signs of wear from frequent handling.
Lu Qianqiao picked up the General doll, noticing an embroidered line on its back that the girl must have added later.
That line—oh, that line—"General of Brothel Visits in Full Regalia."
His eyebrows twitched as he turned to ask: "General of Brothel Visits?"
Xin Mei snatched it back, cradling it protectively: "That's not you! Go away! Don't touch my things!"
Lu Qianqiao didn't know whether to laugh or cry: "Xin Mei, it's General of Agile Cavalry, not Brothel Visits—"
"Hmph, I'm not listening!"
With a resigned smile, he turned to examine another part of the room where a modest dressing table stood. As expected, it bore a thin layer of dust—the girl had probably rarely used it in her life. He picked up a rouge case and opened it gently—well, it had dried into rouge flakes.
The osmanthus hair oil—completely dried up.
The powder box—several powder sticks had crumbled to dust.
Xin Mei tugged frantically at his sleeve from behind, twisting like a pretzel: "Not there! Don't look at those things!"
Seeing her genuine distress, Lu Qianqiao patted her forehead: "Alright, I'll leave then. Get some rest early."
He opened the door and left.
Xin Mei exhaled deeply in relief, immediately grabbing the heavy jewelry box. She dumped out all the jewels inside, snatched up several books, and began looking around for a more secure hiding place.Suddenly, the door was pushed open again, and Lu Qianqiao stepped inside, saying, "Xin Mei, my black eye cover..."
Startled, she dropped the books in her hands, scattering them across the floor. Among them, the Collection of Orchid Musk and Delicate Stamens was an illustrated album, not a thread-bound book, so its pages flew everywhere. The painting titled "Guanyin Sitting on a Lotus" landed right at Lu Qianqiao's feet, and he bent down to pick it up.
In her panic, Xin Mei shouted, "Look at me! Don’t look at anything else!"
He froze, then obediently raised his head and gazed at her, ignoring the scattered pages on the floor. The paper he held in his hand was smooth and delicate, exuding a faint, lingering fragrance... a scent he seemed to recall from somewhere...
"Good. Now, slowly put that paper on the table and turn around..."
She fidgeted nervously across from him, her face flushed crimson as if bleeding, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Lu Qianqiao focused on the familiar fragrance, and suddenly, his brows furrowed. "The scent on this album... it’s unusual."
In his youth, when he led troops to repel enemies, he had been full of vigor and pride. Once, an enemy nation had attempted to lure him into a trap using a honey trap—the very fragrance on these pages was the same as the aphrodisiac incense burned in that room back then: Phoenix Balm. A single inch of Phoenix Balm was worth five taels of silver. Unlike other aggressive aphrodisiacs, Phoenix Balm could even be considered a mild remedy—it didn’t provoke uncontrollable urges, nor did it have lingering effects. Its purpose was merely to stir the imagination through its scent, making it difficult for those affected to realize they had been drugged.
Back then, he had sensed something amiss and immediately destroyed the Phoenix Balm in the incense burner. Yet now, after all these years, he was once again enveloped by this hauntingly seductive fragrance.
"Xin Mei, this album..."
As he spoke, he lowered his gaze to examine it closely. The first thing that met his eyes were four bold, sweeping characters:
Guanyin Sitting on a Lotus.
And beside the words... the illustration...
Lu Qianqiao froze.
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