Who is Wei Li? Where did he come from? How did he seize Pingzhou? This matter seemed to be a taboo among the people in the Junshoufu. No matter how Zhao Xiheng tried to inquire, the maidservants would only give vague answers.
If she pressed further, they would kneel on the ground, kowtowing and trembling as they begged for mercy.
Zhao Xiheng did not have the bad habit of making things difficult for others, so she stopped asking.
In her heart, she secretly wondered: What exactly had Wei Li done to make these people so terrified?
Murder? Arson? Abducting women?
She wiped her half-dried hair, dressed in a snow-white undergarment that looked clean and delicate. Her eyes were somewhat unfocused, clearly lost in thought.
Suddenly, the outer door was kicked open with a bang. The maids outside trembled as they greeted him, their voices even carrying a sob. Even through the door, Zhao Xiheng could sense their fear.
Wei Li had forcibly kept her, a young woman, not killing her but keeping her well. Surely it wasn’t just for the sake of mocking or bullying her out of boredom. Zhao Xiheng was well aware of her situation. She didn’t have the courage to die protecting her chastity—she valued her life—but this was happening too quickly…
She nervously clenched the hem of her clothes.
Wei Li’s temporary stay at the Ji’an Junshoufu had not been announced in advance. The county magistrate, thinking himself clever, had arranged for the two of them to stay in the same building.
After a long day, Wei Li was feeling irritable. He tugged at his collar, unbuttoning a few buttons to reveal a glimpse of his collarbone and Adam’s apple, preparing to rest.
Too lazy to use his hands, he simply kicked open the inner chamber door.
Another “bang” echoed, startling the maidservants so much that they dropped the towels in their hands and knelt on the ground, kowtowing with loud thuds.
The room was filled with a subtle fragrance—the scent of body ointment and gardenia bath beans. Zhao Xiheng sat on a Hu bed, surrounded by several maidservants. She was already petite, and under the candlelight, she appeared even more serene and gentle.
Wei Li’s tall figure appeared at the doorway, casting a shadow.
Zhao Xiheng valued her life greatly. Earlier that day, Wei Li had shot and killed Pingwei Jiangjun without batting an eye, despite having no grudge against him, proving he was a cruel man. She felt deep resistance toward anyone who could threaten her life and safety.
Seeing her, Wei Li seemed displeased, frowning in disgust as he pinched her chin and lifted it. “Who allowed you to be here?”
The surrounding maidservants tactfully withdrew, casting sympathetic glances at Zhao Xiheng before leaving.
Zhao Xiheng found his hand dirty and his grip painful, but she dared not show it. Instead, she summoned her acting skills to the fullest, tears welling up in her eyes as she said softly and weakly, “The county magistrate’s wife sent me here.”
That damned old beast! If her father were still alive, would he dare act so recklessly?
Wei Li curled his lips. “A bunch of fools.” Acting on their own.
Then, with annoyance, he released Zhao Xiheng’s chin.
“Get out! Did you think I’d actually take a liking to you?” He looked Zhao Xiheng up and down, his dark eyes filled with mockery and disdain.
Zhao Xiheng was more than eager to stay away from him. Without even bothering to take her clothes, she rushed to leave.
As she moved, a pair of fair, delicate earlobes were revealed, unlike other women who had pierced ears. Her father must have doted on her, unwilling to let her endure such a thing.
Wei Li unconsciously touched his left ear, feeling a string of cold silver ornaments. The chill in his eyes grew even deeper.
“Get back here!” He called out to Zhao Xiheng, his cold eyes curving into a smile as he hooked an arm around her neck and dragged her to his side.
Young ladies were probably all soft—Wei Li had never touched another, but he found Zhao Xiheng soft and comfortable to hold, as if she had no bones. He had noticed this while riding during the day.
He tightened his embrace again, the rich scent of gardenia flowers drifting into his nostrils, making him increasingly irritable. Emotions churned within him, as if his hatred for Zhao Xiheng had climbed another level.
His arm around Zhao Xiheng kept tightening, thinking that if he strangled her like this, would it finally quell the resentment he had harbored for years?
No, if she died just like that, there would be no fun left.
“You’ll sleep on the floor here tonight, keeping watch. Make the most of what you have—I don’t keep idle people, little princess,” he said in a detached tone, looking down at her, releasing his grip just before she suffocated. The term “little princess” sounded more like sarcasm.
Wei Li’s voice was unpleasant—deep and hoarse, as if his vocal cords had been scraped by something sharp. No matter what he said, it carried a sinister, terrifying edge, suitable for threats or ghost stories.
Even with such a flat tone, Zhao Xiheng broke out in goosebumps.
Then, as if touching something filthy, he shook his arm and went into the inner room to wash up.
Zhao Xiheng crouched on the floor, coughing while clutching her neck. Wei Li was certain she wouldn’t dare run out of this room.
She…
She truly didn’t dare.
Pingzhou’s winters were bitterly cold. Even those who had lived here since childhood wouldn’t dare sleep on the floor in the depths of winter, let alone a delicate young lady like Zhao Xiheng.
Wei Li was excessively cruel to her, but under his roof, survival meant bowing her head.
Zhao Xiheng took a new set of bedding from the cabinet and laid it out closer to the stove, comforting herself with the thought:
At least Wei Li let her sleep on the floor—her chastity was preserved.
Whether men washed up quickly in general or only Wei Li was like this, he emerged in no more than the time it took to drink a cup of tea.
The room was warm, but he exuded a chill—cold air.
Zhao Xiheng dared not step outside when it was even slightly cold, yet Wei Li still bathed with cold water in Pingzhou’s harsh winter. In his view, sleeping on the floor probably wasn’t anything remarkable.
Holding her bedding, Zhao Xiheng glanced up at him and quickly lowered her head. In that fleeting glimpse, she saw something she shouldn’t have.
Wei Li’s collar was tightly wrapped, not showing an inch of skin—even more so than Zhao Xiheng—like some chaste martyr.
Zhao Xiheng narrowed her eyes. Was he afraid she might have designs on him?
Hah, he was overthinking it.
Wei Li, his hair still wet, came over and nudged her leg with his foot, then tugged at his collar. “Don’t know how to serve people?”
Damn Wei Li—she was a princess! Serving you would shorten your life!
Zhao Xiheng cursed fiercely in her heart but still stood up, delicate as a slender willow, her voice soft and small. “What does Zhu Gong need?”
She was tender and fragile, her fair chin still bearing the marks of Wei Li’s earlier roughness.
Wei Li showed no pity. He leaned down slightly and pinched the same spot again. Zhao Xiheng’s willow-like brows furrowed, tears falling drop by drop.
If I get the chance, I’ll personally slaughter you, you old dog!
The fiercer she cursed in her heart, the faster her tears fell.
“Are you cursing me in your heart?” Wei Li narrowed his eyes dangerously, as if the moment she said yes, his snow-white, sharp teeth could pierce her throat.
Zhao Xiheng shook her head desperately, putting on a cowering appearance. “How would I dare? I lost my parents at a young age and have always been timid. Now I’m both startled and frightened—how could I dare curse Zhu Gong? How could you think of me that way?”
Hah, you guessed right. Not only am I cursing you in my heart, but I also want to smash your dog head.
“Really not?” Wei Li asked again.
“Of course not. Have I ever had any feud with Zhu Gong? Why do you treat me this way? But I grew up deep in the palace—where would I have seen Zhu Gong?”
Zhao Xiheng obediently lowered her head, appearing even more delicate and fragile, testing the waters with tearful eyes.
Seeing her now—startled, frightened, and timid as a mouse—Wei Li couldn’t tell whether she was acting or if it was genuine. The current Zhao Xiheng wouldn’t even dare curse him in her heart, whereas the Zhao Xiheng of the past would have already been whipping him.
Her becoming so docile filled Wei Li with a vengeful pleasure, yet it also felt dull. He pinched her chin even harder.
“A feud? Perhaps there is one. But just remember that I despise you—I despise this face of yours, I despise the way you speak, I despise…” He paused, then grinned, his gloomy face suddenly blooming into an extremely bright smile. Unfortunately, someone born with an unlikable appearance, even with the widest smile, still made others feel as if they were seeing a venomous insect.
“I even despise your smile. Seeing you suffer by my side makes me happy.” He actually laughed out loud, eerie in the deep of night.
Unpredictable in mood, Zhao Xiheng silently added another label to Wei Li. She felt her throat dry from crying too long, and her head was a bit dizzy.
“Go, fetch me a towel to dry my hair.” He patted Zhao Xiheng’s face, sending her off.
Watching Zhao Xiheng’s slender back, Wei Li thought, in this lifetime, even if he died, he would carry his hatred for Zhao Xiheng to the grave. If he didn’t see Zhao Xiheng suffer for a single day, he wouldn’t be able to rest in peace.
From his teenage years, the name Zhao Xiheng had been etched into his soul along with humiliation. Every time he woke from a midnight dream, his emotions were intensely complex. But the noble are forgetful—Zhao Xiheng probably couldn’t recall who he was even if beaten to death. But it didn’t matter; as long as he remembered.
It was also fortunate that Zhao Xiheng didn’t remember him; otherwise, he would have killed her right then and there.
The maids had arranged everything neatly, and Zhao Xiheng quickly found the towels, taking two pieces.
Wei Li sat by the edge of the heated kang bed, and she stood to dry his hair.
The heated kang bed emitted waves of warmth, making her very comfortable, even to the point where she dawdled, reluctant to leave.
But she was also afraid that Wei Li, this mad dog, might bite. In the end, she chose peace over the warm kang bed, drying his hair until it was half-dry as quickly as possible, even making her movements as gentle as possible, not pulling out a single strand.
Wei Li’s hair was black, thick, and very dense, feeling as smooth as satin to the touch. Zhao Xiheng thought maliciously, wishing him an early baldness.
“Alright, get lost. Turn off the lights and sleep.” Wei Li was clearly not a patient man, and before long, he couldn’t sit still, shooing Zhao Xiheng away to turn off the lights.
Zhao Xiheng secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Today would probably end here. She hoped this old beast wouldn’t come up with any new tricks.
She trimmed all the wicks and turned to see Wei Li already lying flat on the heated kang, his limbs long and slender, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His muscles were firm and smooth, not coarse, perfectly proportioned.
She had no mind to appreciate it, gritted her teeth, and turned to look at her own bedding on the floor.
If given the chance, she would definitely escape. She only hoped this wretched life would end soon.