In the gentle light of morning and dusk, Wei Rao would ride outside, either exploring nearby villages and towns or galloping freely along the official road. When the sun grew intense, she would return to the carriage to rest. This balance of activity and leisure made the journey far more enjoyable than before.
Wherever she went, Lu Zhuo followed closely, which in the eyes of the entourage appeared as a display of marital affection.
On the sixth day of travel, the party settled at a relay station.
As usual, Wei Rao shared a room with Bitao, while Lu Zhuo stayed next door.
"Miss, the Young Lord follows you every day, never leaving your side. What does he truly mean by this?" Bitao asked in a hushed voice as she gently wiped her mistress’s back amidst the rising steam.
Wei Rao, soaking comfortably in the bathtub with her eyes closed, snorted at Bitao’s question. "What could it mean? He’s afraid I might run off and cause trouble, making it hard for him to explain to the Old Madam and the Dowager later."
When the two were alone, Bitao couldn’t see anything and thus remained puzzled. "But you’re so beautiful, Miss. After traveling together for days, hasn’t the Young Lord developed even a hint of affection?"
Bitao truly couldn’t understand. Her mistress’s beauty was something even she, a woman, adored dearly—she wished she could serve by her side every moment. How could a young man like the Young Lord remain entirely unmoved?
Wei Rao was unconcerned and chuckled. "Men marry for virtue and take concubines for beauty. Some see beauties as mere playthings, insisting on marrying virtuous and well-bred ladies from prestigious families to uphold their own and their clan’s dignity. Our Young Lord here looks down on everyone from his high perch and finds fault with me everywhere. Why would he be swayed by my face? That he’s willing to play along with this act is already remarkable."
Bitao gritted her teeth. "What’s so great about a good reputation? Back when the Young Lord was gravely ill, that Xie Sixth…"
Wei Rao shook her head, cutting her off. "What others do has nothing to do with us. Let’s not gossip."
Bitao refrained from further comment but fumed inwardly that the seemingly divine Young Lord was actually a fool who only cared about reputation.
Because the Young Lord looked down on her mistress, the next day Bitao sat in the carriage with her head bowed, weaving knots. Zhao Song came by several times trying to make conversation, but she ignored him each time.
In the afternoon, the travelers finally arrived at the city gate of Jincheng.
This was Wei Rao’s first time leaving the capital and traveling so far. Seated in the carriage, she pressed her face to the gap in the window curtain, secretly observing the scene outside.
Jincheng was the prefectural seat of Qingzhou and a military stronghold in the north. Its walls were thick and towering, exuding an imposing aura.
The people coming and going through the city gate, both men and women, seemed taller than those in the capital. The men laughed and spoke loudly, while the women carried themselves with a more forthright and lively demeanor.
Leaning sideways, she watched with great interest. Lu Zhuo sat upright beside her, already accustomed to her behavior and making no attempt to interfere.
There was an official guesthouse in Jincheng where the party would stay for the next two months or so.
The guesthouse officials warmly welcomed Lu Zhuo.
The Divine Martial Army was recruiting soldiers this year and had sent advance notice to the local officials. The guesthouse had made preparations. Shortly after Lu Zhuo’s arrival, the prefect of Jincheng, the assistant commander, and other local officials came to pay their respects. Lu Zhuo instructed Wei Rao to settle in and rest first while he went to the guesthouse reception hall to socialize with the officials.The post station assigned four young maids and two matrons to serve Lu Zhuo and Wei Rao. With everyone in the Back Residence being outsiders except Bitao, it was certain that Lu Zhuo would have to share a room with her at night.
While Lu Zhuo was occupied with social engagements, Wei Rao took the opportunity to bathe first.
Lu Zhuo did not return until nightfall, having already dined elsewhere.
Wei Rao was sitting on the daybed reading when Bitao respectfully asked, "Does the Young Lord wish to bathe?"
Lu Zhuo looked toward Wei Rao.
Wei Rao lowered her book and said indifferently, "I've already bathed. If you wish to do so, have the matrons bring the bathtub to the inner chamber later. After they leave, you can bathe inside while I read outside. I'll go in after you finish."
Under the soft lamplight, her face still carried a faint flush from her bath. Her posture was languid, her tone carrying a lazy, sweet charm that seemed to disregard the man before her. Little did she know such neglect was more likely to stir a man's desire to conquer, to lift her chin and force her to look directly at him.
This thought flashed through Lu Zhuo's mind so quickly it might as well never have appeared.
Lu Zhuo directly instructed Bitao to prepare the bathwater, then sat on the daybed and began telling Wei Rao about the people he had met that evening and the next day's itinerary, behaving like any normal married couple.
When Bitao led the matrons in carrying the water, the two remained in their intimate posture, conversing in low voices.
The post station's rules for servants weren't as strict as those in noble households. One matron, while exiting the inner chamber after preparing the bath, secretly glanced at the Duke of Yingguo's heir and his wife on the daybed. Her first glimpse was of the Young Lord lying on his side, propped up on one elbow—his handsome face seemed too extraordinary for this mortal world. He was sitting very close to his wife, close enough that if he leaned forward slightly, his head could rest on her lap as she sat cross-legged.
The matron's second glance fell upon the Young Lord's wife sitting beside him. She wore a water-green beizi, with a gold hairpin adorned with gemstones nestled in her cloud-like black hair. Though the matron couldn't clearly see her face as she spoke softly to the Young Lord, she felt certain this noble lady was exquisitely beautiful.
After just these two glances, before the matron could look her fill, she had already reached the doorway of the secondary chamber.
Though somewhat disappointed, the matron felt quite excited—after two months of serving here, she would have plenty of stories to share later.
Once the servants had withdrawn, Lu Zhuo promptly sat up and stood from the daybed. Looking back at Wei Rao, he found her continuing to read as if nothing had happened.
Lu Zhuo lowered his gaze and went to the inner chamber to bathe.
While undressing, Lu Zhuo could still faintly smell the clear, sweet osmanthus fragrance that clung to her. Her pale, delicate hands holding the book seemed to remain vividly before his eyes.
If they were a real married couple, the comfortable intimacy they had just shared wouldn't be so bad.
After removing his clothes, Lu Zhuo stepped into the bathtub. Remembering Wei Rao reading just beyond the partition, he deliberately moved quietly.
Wei Rao could hear the soft sounds of him splashing water, but these noises affected her no differently than when Bitao or Liuya washed towels. She remained composed, feeling no particular curiosity about Lu Zhuo's bathing.
Lu Zhuo washed quickly, finishing in about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea. Stepping out of the tub, he dried himself and dressed, emerging wearing only middle garments.
Wei Rao glanced up at him, then immediately averted her gaze.
Lu Zhuo explained in a low voice, "It's time to sleep. Wearing outer robes now would only arouse suspicion."Wei Rao said to the book page, "It's fine. I saw you like that too during those days when the Young Lord was unconscious."
Lu Zhuo didn't want to recall how he was back then and asked Wei Rao, "Would you like to play chess?"
Wei Rao wasn't interested. "I'm not skilled at chess, nor do I enjoy playing."
Lu Zhuo called Bitao to bring people in to clean up, then sat cross-legged beside Wei Rao, lowering his head to look at the book in her hand.
Wei Rao thought he was starting to act again, so she smiled and moved the book closer to him.
After reading a few lines, Lu Zhuo found it was a martial arts hero storybook, which suited Wei Rao's temperament quite well.
"It's all made-up nonsense, and you believe it?" Lu Zhuo commented.
Wei Rao said, "Whether it's believable or not, as long as it's interesting to read, it's a good book."
Lu Zhuo didn't comment further. Having nothing else to say, he simply read along with her.
Bitao led the water-carrying women out and glanced at the Young Lord and the young lady almost snuggled together on the couch. Especially since the Young Lord was only wearing his underwear, with his black hair draped over his shoulders and his handsome face, such a pleasing sight made Bitao feel a bit regretful—if only it were real.
Once the act was over, Wei Rao arranged for Bitao to sleep in the side room, saying there was no need to keep watch in the main room.
After Bitao withdrew, Wei Rao told Lu Zhuo to close the outer door.
When Lu Zhuo returned to the side room after closing the door and turning off the hall light, he saw Wei Rao carrying out a quilt and pillow from inside. She tossed them onto the couch in the side room, patted her small hands, and said to him, "For the next two months, you'll sleep out here."
Lu Zhuo smiled and said, "Alright."
Wei Rao didn't bother with him making the bed and turned back to the inner chamber, closing the door and bolting it.
Lu Zhuo heard the sound clearly, as if Wei Rao were glaring at him, warning him not to have any improper thoughts about her.
Lu Zhuo smiled wryly. With things like this, how could his mother still hope for a grandson?
After making his own bed and turning off the light, Lu Zhuo lay down on the unfamiliar couch in the posthouse.
Lu Zhuo rarely dreamed, but tonight, for some reason, he actually had a dream.
In the dream, it was still this posthouse, and the two of them were still acting. Wei Rao was reading a book, and he sat beside her, keeping her company. Later, the maid withdrew, and Wei Rao brought out a quilt and pillow. But in the dream, Wei Rao didn't leave heartlessly. Instead, she gently and considerately helped him make the bed, like a true wife.
Lu Zhuo was drawn to her tenderness and couldn't help but walk over, embracing her from behind.
Surprisingly, she didn't resist, shyly closing her eyes. The sweet osmanthus fragrance on her grew stronger, and Lu Zhuo couldn't restrain himself. He gently kissed her neck and asked if she would be willing to become his wife.
She nodded joyfully.
Lu Zhuo then pressed her down onto the couch. Her body was just as he had imagined...
At this point in the dream, no man would want to wake up, but Lu Zhuo was abruptly startled awake by his own profanity toward Wei Rao.
In the pitch-black depths of the night, only his heavy panting could be heard.
Before opening his eyes, Lu Zhuo reached out and touched the space beside him.
It was empty.
Confirming that Wei Rao wasn't by his side and that everything had just been an absurd dream, Lu Zhuo's breathing gradually steadied.
Wei Rao didn't want to give herself to him, so even in his dreams, Lu Zhuo wouldn't take advantage of her in the slightest.
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