Lu Zhuo had practiced martial arts since childhood, possessing a physique far more robust than his peers. His previous unconscious state had slowed wound recovery and worsened his condition. Now that he had narrowly escaped death's door, he followed the Imperial Physician's prescription daily for recuperation, enjoying nourishing meals and meticulous family care. After just three days of convalescence, Lu Zhuo was already able to get out of bed and move about.
By the fifth day after the wedding—coinciding with Lu Zhuo and Xie Hualou's originally scheduled wedding date, the eighteenth of the twelfth lunar month—Lu Zhuo had largely regained his mobility. The wounds on his back had scabbed over, and unless he deliberately tore them open again, there should be no further cause for concern.
With the Young Lord no longer in mortal danger, the Imperial Physician who had remained at the Duke's Manor could finally return to the palace to report.
After seeing off the Imperial Physician, the Duchess of Yingguo smiled at Lu Zhuo and Wei Rao. "Shoucheng has recovered quite well. Tomorrow morning, the manor will formally hold the belated tea ceremony for you both. The day after, Shoucheng will accompany Rao Rao on her return visit home."
The Marriage to ward off misfortune had made the wedding somewhat rushed. Now that the eldest grandson had recovered, what needed to be rectified should be, so as not to shortchange the new bride.
Lu Zhuo glanced at Wei Rao and said with a smile, "That is only proper."
Wei Rao stood demurely by his side, embodying the image of a young wife who deferred to her husband in all matters.
After the Duchess of Yingguo departed, Lu Zhuo turned a gentle gaze toward Wei Rao. "I shall do some reading. Please rest first, my lady. I will join you for dinner in the rear courtyard this evening."
Wei Rao lowered her eyes shyly, nodded, and withdrew with Bitao.
Lu Zhuo watched as the figures of mistress and maid disappeared down the corridor before heading toward his study.
A Gui, following closely, cautiously reminded him, "Young Lord, the wounds on your back haven't fully healed. Perhaps you should rest in the front courtyard these next few evenings?A Gui understood perfectly well that the Young Lord's euphemistic words—speaking of joining the young mistress for dinner in the rear courtyard—actually meant he intended to stay there overnight. But the Imperial Physician had specifically advised that before the New Year, the Young Lord should refrain from hastily consummating the marriage with the young mistress.
Lu Zhuo turned and cast him a cool glance.
Though typically amiable, his chill demeanor now clearly conveyed his displeasure.
A Gui sheepishly lowered his head. Worried as he was, he thoroughly understood the Young Lord's position—faced with such beauty as the young mistress possessed, what man could resist?
The second courtyard of the Hall of Pine and Moon was named Elegant Breeze Residence.
No sooner had they returned to Elegant Breeze Residence and were still in the corridor than Bitao couldn't resist whispering to Wei Rao, "Miss, what does the Young Lord mean? Does he wish to consummate the marriage?"
Wei Rao hadn't concealed the arrangement of a false marriage from the four personal maids she brought with her, as they attended to her intimately and would inevitably know whether Lu Zhuo slept in her room.
"No. Prepare the west chamber. Whenever the Young Lord comes, he will stay there," Wei Rao understood Lu Zhuo's intention. He was honoring his promise—once he regained mobility, he would begin acting the part. A newlywed couple, of course, must appear to live together.
Bitao grasped the meaning and felt a tinge of disappointment.
The first time she saw the Young Lord, he was gravely ill, his face terrifyingly pale. But as he gradually recovered, though still gaunt, his jade-like complexion had returned. With his improved color, his celestial handsomeness reemerged, and his extreme frailty evoked pity for the great ordeal he had endured.
Bitao had whispered with Liuya privately: considering the Young Lord's excellent qualities, if he were to treat their young lady well, it might indeed turn out to be a favorable match.However, if the Young Lord truly only wished to sleep in the west chamber and had no intention of consummating the marriage with the young lady, it meant he looked down on her entirely. No matter how handsome or noble he was, as maidservants, they would not think highly of him.
Bitao and Liuya tidied the west chamber together, laying out the bedding for the Young Lord.
By dusk, Lu Zhuo had changed his bandages in the front courtyard, dressed properly, and made his way to Yafeng Residence.
A Gui hesitated again and again, but when the Young Lord turned into the corridor leading to Yafeng Residence, he still whispered a reminder: "Young Lord, please take it easy. Your health is what matters most."
This time, Lu Zhuo didn’t even turn his head and continued alone toward the rear courtyard.
A Gui stopped there, sighing softly.
Everyone at Yafeng Residence was Wei Rao’s people, so neither Wei Rao nor Lu Zhuo needed to pretend. One shed his gentle and refined demeanor, while the other abandoned her gentle and dignified facade.
"Prepare the meal," Wei Rao said, emerging with paper, a brush, and a seal box. She glanced at Lu Zhuo and instructed Bitao with a smile.
Bitao sent the junior maidservants Xi’er and Cai’er to the kitchen to fetch the meal.
At the square rosewood dining table, Wei Rao sat opposite Lu Zhuo and slid the contract she had prepared earlier toward him. "Young Lord, please take a look. If there are no issues, kindly sign and affix your fingerprint."
Lu Zhuo picked up the contract—it was the five-year agreement she had mentioned earlier. The content was largely as expected, but the compensation terms were particularly harsh if he or anyone close to him revealed their true relationship, causing Wei Rao to become a laughingstock. One clause stipulated that if the truth were indeed exposed, Lu Zhuo would have to publicly admit that his inability to consummate the marriage after his severe illness was the reason they had been living as a false couple.
Lu Zhuo’s fingers tightened slightly on the contract as he looked at Wei Rao in disbelief.
What kind of woman could come up with such an excuse and write it down without batting an eye before showing it to him?
"Is there something the Young Lord finds inappropriate?" Wei Rao asked curiously.
Lu Zhuo didn’t want to argue with her. With a dark expression, he signed the document and pressed his fingerprint.
Wei Rao considerately handed him a handkerchief. As Lu Zhuo wiped his hands, she smiled and carefully stored the contract, instructing Liuya to return it to the inner chamber.
Xi’er and Cai’er brought in the evening meal.
Wei Rao’s meal consisted of regular dishes, with a balanced mix of meat and vegetables, while Lu Zhuo’s was still Medicinal Cuisine, which looked particularly bland.
Wei Rao practiced martial arts every morning and evening, expending more energy than the average young lady of noble birth, so her appetite was also larger. While other young ladies might feel full or even overstuffed after half a bowl of rice, Wei Rao ate two bowls for breakfast and lunch and, for health reasons, one bowl in the evening.
Since marrying into the Duke’s Manor to ward off misfortune, aside from some superficial politeness, Wei Rao had no intention of depriving herself in any way. She had long sent Bitao to convey her dietary preferences to the kitchen at the Hall of Pine and Moon. The chefs there were highly skilled, and after several days of adjustments and feedback, the meals served now perfectly suited Wei Rao’s tastes.
The sweet and sour pork ribs were tangy and refreshing, while the cabbage with tofu was tender and savory—one dish rich in flavor, the other light. Wei Rao alternated between them, eating with evident relish.
Of course, Wei Rao merely had a hearty appetite and ate more; her dining etiquette was not crude in the slightest. Her movements were graceful and dignified, and given her beauty, watching her eat was nothing short of a pleasure.
Lu Zhuo had no interest in admiring her beauty but merely thought that her two dishes looked exceptionally delicious.
They finished their meal almost simultaneously. After rinsing his mouth, Lu Zhuo retired to the west chamber to rest.Wei Rao looked toward the door. In the twelfth lunar month, darkness fell too quickly—by the time dinner was finished, the world outside was already pitch black. In spring, summer, or autumn, she enjoyed strolling in the garden after meals, either walking or fishing, both to pass the time and aid digestion. But now, with the biting cold and impenetrable darkness, she could only remain indoors.
After resting for half an hour, Wei Rao changed into her practice clothes and went alone to the courtyard to practice swordplay.
Tonight was Liuya’s turn to keep watch, so Bitao had gone to sleep. Liuya, wrapped in a padded coat, stood under the corridor. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out her mistress’s slender figure twirling and leaping in the yard—sometimes like a black butterfly fluttering among flowers, other times like a dark bird darting between branches.
The sound of the sword slicing through the air varied with the tempo of her movements. Liuya clutched her collar tightly, her eyes struggling to keep up with the swift arcs of the blade.
Finally, Wei Rao sheathed her sword. Despite the frigid night, a light sweat glistened on her skin.
“Miss, come inside quickly. The wind is strong tonight—you mustn’t catch a chill,” Liuya called softly.
Wei Rao smiled and obediently headed to the eastern room. Liuya fetched water from the utility room and skillfully helped her wipe down.
Their shadows fell upon the screen, and suddenly Liuya gasped softly. “Oh no, I forgot to bolt the door.”
Back at Cheng’an Marquis’s residence, her mistress’s courtyard had been private, and leaving the door unlatched was fine. But now it was different—a grown man was staying in the western room!
“Please wait, Miss, I’ll go bolt it,” Liuya said remorsefully.
Wei Rao held her back and chuckled. “Remember next time. Let it be for tonight—he isn’t that sort of man.”
If Lu Zhuo had any designs on her beauty, he wouldn’t have proposed a five-year agreement.
Even with the underfloor heating system warming the room, staying exposed while wiping down was chilly. Wei Rao only wanted to hurry under the covers and not waste any more time.
Liuya had no choice but to quicken her pace.
Once she finished wiping her upper body, Wei Rao slipped into her underwear and burrowed under the quilt, extending a pair of delicate, pale feet onto Liuya’s lap.
Looking at her mistress’s flushed, radiant cheeks and the exquisite feet in her lap—so lovely she felt an urge to kiss them—Liuya grew increasingly baffled by the Young Lord’s attitude. Both were military men: Second Master Qi would gladly have glued his eyes to her mistress, so why was the Young Lord so aloof? Was Sixth Miss Xie truly so exceptional that he could see no one else?
Western Room
Lu Zhuo slowly moved from the window back to his bed.
He knew Wei Rao practiced martial arts—on Cloud Mist Mountain, she had managed to counter-kill two assassins so swiftly he hadn’t even noticed, which spoke volumes about her skill. But it wasn’t until tonight, hearing the distinct whistle of her sword cutting through the air, that he realized her expertise wasn’t limited to hidden weapons.
Why would a young lady from a noble family take up martial arts? Both the Zhou and Wei families were civil officials. Who had taught her, and how had she come by such training?
At dawn the next day, Lu Zhuo was abruptly awakened by movement next door.
Wei Rao’s movements weren’t loud, but his hearing was exceptionally sharp. The moment she pushed her door open, he was roused.
Why was she up so early?
He sat up. Soon, the sound of her practicing swordplay echoed from the courtyard again.
Lu Zhuo didn’t return to the window to watch. He lay back down, but listening to her fluid, vigorous practice made his own hands itch with longing.
Since waking from his injury, he had been cautiously recuperating and hadn’t practiced martial arts in what felt like ages.
Lu Zhuo reached back and touched his shoulder blade.The scab on the wound was the size of a bowl's base—a round patch, freshly formed and unsuitable for vigorous movement in the short term.
Touching the wound, Lu Zhuo recalled the night he was injured.
The traitor who had leaked information to the enemy had been captured and committed suicide, with his entire clan executed by Emperor Yuanjia. Yet Lu Zhuo believed the true mastermind intent on eliminating either him or Qi Zhongkai still lurked in the shadows, waiting for the next opportunity to strike.
Lu Zhuo pressed his lips together, his dark eyes fixed coldly on the canopy above the bed.
OpenNovel