When Wen Ning woke, she found Shen Zhou leaning against the bedside, fast asleep, his hand still clutching hers, pulling it into his embrace.
Ever since their marriage, the two had always slept separately.
Wen Ning wondered—could it be that he had drunk too much last night as well? She studied Shen Zhou. Though they were husband and wife, Wen Ning had never looked at him this closely before. She had always known he was handsome.
His complexion was pale and cool, brows like distant mountains, and his long peach-blossom eyes usually carried a chill, like a lake under nightfall. Yet when he smiled, they shimmered with gentle light. Now, asleep like a child, his thick curled lashes hid a tiny tear-shaped mole beneath them—something not easily noticed.
Wen Ning swallowed, her slender fingertips reaching to touch it. But before she could, Shen Zhou stirred awake.
The young man’s sleepy eyes opened slowly, lazily fixing on her. Morning light brushed across his tousled hair, making him look especially striking.
“Good morning, Madam.”
Perhaps because he had just woken, his voice was still low and husky.
Wen Ning grew flustered. “G-good morning.”
Shen Zhou yawned languidly, then casually drew her into his arms. His body carried a faint, cool fragrance, like the warmth of early spring breaking through the end of winter. Not strong, but very pleasant.
Wen Ning froze. Was Shen Zhou still half-asleep? Otherwise, why would he be hugging her so early in the morning?
Frightened, she stayed still in his arms, afraid to wake him, and whispered a reminder. “Heir, it’s time for breakfast.”
Shen Zhou shifted his posture, holding her tighter, his deep voice magnetic and tender. “No rush. Stay with me a little longer.”
Wen Ning obediently nestled in his arms, her mind spinning. Could it be that the Heir had drunk too much last night and burned out his wits? Or had he mistaken her for Qiao Yanxin?
At that thought, Wen Ning’s whole body stiffened.
Shen Zhou lowered his gaze, asking gently, “What’s wrong?”
Wen Ning couldn’t hold back and blurted out, “Heir, do you know who I am?”
Shen Zhou paused, then pulled her before him, smiling faintly. “You’re my wife. We bowed to Heaven and Earth together.”
Wen Ning gasped. “So… you didn’t mistake me for someone else?”
Shen Zhou frowned. “What does Madam mean? Do you think I’m the sort of man who behaves wantonly?”
Wen Ning struggled hard to suppress the urge to nod.
Shen Zhou recalled the confusion before his marriage and suddenly understood the source of her doubts.
“I looked after Qiao Yanxin only because her brother, Qiao Feng, entrusted her to me.” He drew a jade pendant from his robe, his tone tinged with embarrassment. “I mistook the person. Will you blame me?”
Wen Ning froze, finally realizing why his attitude this morning was so different from before. So he had discovered that she was his true benefactor.
Shen Zhou had always been a good man—his later service in the army for the country proved that.
In her past life, Wen Qing had longed for her husband’s affection, but he had carried Qiao Yanxin in his heart, leading to the scandal of abandoning Wen Qing and eloping with Qiao Yanxin.
But in this life, Wen Ning only wished to live peacefully as the Heir’s wife. Her original thought was: if Shen Zhou loved her, she would gladly share a respectful marriage with him. After all, his looks were hard not to love.
If Shen Zhou loved Qiao Yanxin, she wouldn’t be too heartbroken either. As long as he didn’t cast her aside, she would even help him bring Qiao Yanxin into the household. After all, she was the principal wife. If Qiao Yanxin bore children, Wen Ning would still be their legal mother. But now, Shen Zhou suddenly told her—he did not love Qiao Yanxin. He had only cared for her out of loyalty to an old friend’s request. Yet Wen Ning did not fully believe his words.
Putting herself in another’s shoes, Wen Ning thought: if she were asked to ruin her own reputation for the sake of a friend’s request, she would never agree. Perhaps Shen Zhou did have feelings for Qiao Yanxin—he simply refused to admit it.
But since he didn’t want to acknowledge it, Wen Ning saw no need to tear away the veil and provoke his anger.
Reading people’s moods was the most basic skill for someone living under another’s roof.
With that thought, Wen Ning chose not to dwell on Shen Zhou and Qiao Yanxin, and instead smiled lightly. “Heir, back then it was just a small act of kindness. You really don’t need to keep it on your mind.”
Shen Zhou buried his face against Wen Ning’s neck, greedily inhaling her scent. This little girl—not only soft, but fragrant too.
Wen Ning, ticklish, shrank back slightly, pressing her hand against his chest, her gentle voice reminding him softly, “Heir, it’s getting late. If someone sees us…”
Shen Zhou lowered his gaze, his chest tingling with her touch. His body tensed, his Adam’s apple moved, and his voice came out low and husky.
“Let them see. You’re my wife—what’s there to fear?”
At his words, Wen Ning’s pale face flushed with a hidden blush. Shy, she pressed against him, her voice sweet and soft. “Heir, don’t be like this.”
Shen Zhou looked at her, his eyes deepening, his heart trembling unconsciously. Curling his lips, he deliberately teased, “And what exactly does ‘don’t be like this’ mean?”
Wen Ning’s cheeks turned so red they seemed ready to drip blood. Furious, she pinched his waist and scolded in a coquettish tone, “You know perfectly well, yet you still make me say it…”
Shen Zhou adored her like this, but he knew she was easily embarrassed. If he pushed too far, she might be frightened and ignore him afterward. And then he would be the one to suffer. He took a deep breath, reluctantly let her go, and changed the subject. “Madam, you are kind-hearted, but I cannot be someone who forgets a debt of gratitude. A life-saving favor must be repaid.”
Wen Ning asked, “How do you intend to repay it?”
Shen Zhou nodded. “By pledging myself to you, of course.”
Wen Ning hesitated, glancing at him, then said softly, “But the one who carried you home that day was Uncle Lin. Strictly speaking, your benefactor is Uncle Lin.”
Shen Zhou: “…”