The morning’s farce ended with Xiao Xu slamming the door and leaving.
Mi Yao had thought he would at least back down and apologize. Who would have guessed his character was so poor—he simply walked away.
Wiping at the nonexistent tears on her face, Mi Yao patted Xiao Shan. “He’s gone. No need for us to cry anymore.”
Xiao Shan hadn’t yet learned the skill of pretending to cry; her tears were genuine, born of fear that Xiao Xu would bully Mi Yao. But now, seeing Mi Yao’s carefree smile and hearing her words, she seemed to understand something in her childish way. She sniffled twice and stopped crying, though her eyes still brimmed with tears as she looked at Mi Yao with grievance.
“Alright, alright. Next time I pretend to cry, I’ll give you a signal so you’ll know to join me.” Mi Yao coaxed the little radish, oblivious to how wrong it was to teach a child such tricks.
Crying was a skill best indulged in childhood. As one grew older, it lost its power. Even with her beauty, Xiao Xu, the brute, could ignore it completely.
Xiao Xu hadn’t left immediately after shutting the door. Naturally, he heard how the crying inside ceased the moment he stepped out. He restrained himself from turning back and kicking the door open, just to see if they would start crying again at his return.
Mi Yao hadn’t forgotten that yesterday Xiao Xu mentioned going to the Governor’s residence to pay respects to Zhao Tianhe. After soothing Xiao Shan, she dressed neatly in less than a quarter hour, picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, and ate it as she walked to Xiao Xu’s study to invite him out.
When Xiao Xu emerged, Mi Yao was just finishing the last bite. She closed her mouth and smiled at him, as if the earlier drama in her room had been nothing but an illusion.
Xiao Xu found her smile an eyesore. He strode ahead, his pace quickening, clearly unwilling to walk alongside her.
Mi Yao, carefree and relaxed, trailed behind him, nibbling on a second piece of osmanthus cake. But once they passed through the second gate and she saw Xiao Xu heading straight toward the stables, she felt a twinge of worry. She could shamelessly suggest riding together on one horse, but Xiao Xu would surely refuse.
Just as she was thinking this, the groom drove up with a carriage. Once they passed through the main gate, Mi Yao heard the sound of hooves. Lifting the curtain, she smiled at Xiao Xu, her face blooming like a flower. “My lord is so thoughtful, you even had a carriage prepared early.”
“Sit properly.” Xiao Xu disliked the stares of passersby. He drew his sword from his waist and pressed down her hand that had lifted the curtain.
The cold of the scabbard seeped into her skin. Mi Yao pouted and cast him a reproachful glance.
Xiao Xu withdrew his gaze coldly, intending to ride ahead. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed townsfolk gathering on the other side of the carriage, following along as it moved. His eyes caught one man staring blankly, drool at his lips. Xiao Xu tugged the reins, guiding his horse to the other side—just as the curtain suddenly dropped, swaying in the wind.
After a while, Mi Yao thought it safe and lifted a corner again. But as soon as she leaned forward, her gaze met Xiao Xu’s sharp, murderous eyes. Startled, she recoiled, patting her chest.
“What’s wrong, Madam?” Shi Ya quickly steadied her.
What else could it be? She’d seen a ghost. The carriage window wasn’t even level with Xiao Xu’s height—how had he managed to catch her exactly as she lifted the curtain, just to frighten her? Imagining him bent low from horseback, backside sticking out, just to peer into the carriage window, she couldn’t help laughing. But her amusement didn’t last.
The carriage suddenly stopped. She thought they had arrived, but the next moment, the tall Xiao Xu swept aside the curtain and entered. Their eyes met, and Mi Yao’s smile froze.
“My lord isn’t riding anymore?”
“No.”
“Then what about the horse? Just leave it on the road?”
“It’s not like you. It’s clever enough to follow obediently behind the carriage.”
At his words, Mi Yao gave a heavy humph. “Beautiful women are many, but those whose thoughts show plainly on their faces, who obey their husbands in everything—such foolish beauties are rare. Since you know I’m foolish, my lord must spoil me all the more.”
What twisted reasoning. In truth, fools were common and the clever few. But in Mi Yao’s mouth, fools became rare treasures to be cherished.
Xiao Xu glanced at Mi Yao’s mouth opening and closing incessantly, too lazy to argue. “Be quiet.”
The carriage, drawn by two horses and adorned with jeweled canopies, was spacious enough, but Xiao Xu’s frame was so large that he was equal to two Mi Yaos.
Once he boarded, Shi Ya sensibly stepped down to walk.
Mi Yao didn’t want to walk, but neither did she want to sit in silence, locked in eye‑to‑eye stillness with Xiao Xu in such a confined space. So she leaned against him, lying in his arms.
Xiao Xu thought she was up to some trick, but when she didn’t move, he lowered his gaze and saw she had already closed her eyes, clearly using him as a cushion. He wondered if she had treated her former lover the same way.
At first, surely it was like this. Back in Jingzhou, she had cursed that scholar as a “turtle grandson,” yet he still clung to her, blocking her path, insisting on taking her away. She wasn’t truly clever, but neither was she foolish. She knew how to assess the situation and choose the option that benefited her most.
A woman with a brain but unwilling to use it—give her gold and jewels, and she would become a docile, charming beauty. Just as she herself had said: a foolish beauty.
Breathing in her fragrance all the way, Xiao Xu strode ahead upon reaching the Governor’s residence, wanting to clear his nose of her scent.
But after only a few steps, a heavy perfume assaulted him—thick and cloying, far inferior to Mi Yao’s subtle warmth, musk‑like yet not musk.
“Ninth Brother, Ninth Sister‑in‑law.” Madam Pan bowed to them. “Father knew you were coming today. He has been waiting in the main hall since early morning, eager to see you both.”
As she spoke, she naturally moved to Xiao Xu’s side. “That day when Hu Tou quarreled with Second Brother, I asked carefully. Second Brother did not lie. Hutou is spoiled beyond measure by his grandmother. Even when he errs, he refuses to admit it. I have already scolded him thoroughly.”
Xiao Xu gave a casual “mm,” clearly indifferent to the matter.
Seeing this, Madam Pan lowered her eyes, pressing a handkerchief to the corner of her eye. “Though Hutou is the child I carried for ten months, his grandmother from the Ma family is obstinate. When I scold Hutou, she scolds me, even raises her hand against me. I had no choice but to ask Father to move me out of the Ma household and let me stay here in the Governor’s residence. If only I had chosen Ninth Brother back then, I wouldn’t have been widowed in just a year, nor suffered such humiliation…”
Realizing she had spoken too much, Madam Pan quickly covered her mouth, then cautiously lifted her eyes to gauge Xiao Xu’s expression. Seeing his face unchanged, she couldn’t tell whether he hadn’t understood her hints, or whether he had but was deliberately feigning calm in public.
Thinking this, Madam Pan turned to glance at Mi Yao.
Compared to Xiao Xu, Mi Yao was far more supportive. She listened attentively, and when Madam Pan looked back, Mi Yao displayed just the right touch of surprise on her face.
“I shouldn’t have said all this. It’s just that seeing Ninth Brother married, I couldn’t help but recall the past. When we were young, Ninth Brother treated me the very best.”
Xiao Xu, though he had no memory of ever treating Madam Pan kindly, still replied: “If you don’t wish to remain in the Ma household, then divorce. Father will arrange another good match for you.”
Hearing him speak, Madam Pan’s heart leapt, though her face remained sorrowful. “Father has mentioned it, but I fear choosing wrongly again. If Ninth Brother knows of any man as good as himself, he must help his younger sister find him.”
Her gaze was fervent. Xiao Xu’s steps faltered briefly, his eyes resting on her face for a moment before shifting to Mi Yao, who was dawdling behind. “Even the legless walk faster than you.”
“That’s because the legless use wheelchairs, which naturally move faster than walking. But between no legs and beautiful legs, which does my lord prefer?” Mi Yao spoke while trotting a few steps, then stopped at his other side. She caught hold of his sleeve and teased, “Has my lord had enough of looking at others, and now wishes to look at me?”
Tilting her head, Mi Yao tried to mimic Madam Pan’s demeanor. But before she could finish, Xiao Xu turned back without looking at her again.
Noticing Madam Pan’s expression slip, her gaze tinged with resentment, Mi Yao understood. After being humiliated by her last time, Madam Pan no longer bothered to pretend in front of her. Mi Yao winked at her. Both of them wanted to be pampered wives—half a dozen of one, six of the other. So why should one laugh at the other?
At the wedding ceremony, Mi Yao had seen Zhao Tianhe. At the time, she thought him a refined, scholarly man—an older gentleman, somewhat worn but still handsome. Now, seeing him again, he was still that refined elder, but the weariness was heavier. He hadn’t bothered to cover half his white hair with a hat, and it made him look ten years older than his actual age.
According to the timeline in the book, Zhao Tianhe was already hollow within despite his outward strength, plagued by old illnesses and surviving only with medicine. After decades of stability, Yizhou was soon to fall into turmoil again. But none of this concerned her. As long as she didn’t court disaster, Xiao Xu’s inner courtyard would always be the safest place.
To avoid suspicion, Zhao Tianhe spoke only a few words to her. After giving her a meeting gift, he urged her to live well with Xiao Xu and take care of his three children. Then he led Xiao Xu to the study, leaving Madam Pan and a concubine to keep Mi Yao company.
The book had said that after Zhao Tianhe’s wife and children died, he never remarried. Mi Yao had thought him a rare man of deep devotion. Who would have guessed he had a concubine?
This concubine, Madam Fang, was around thirty. Her looks were not outstanding, but her attire was grand: two thick red‑gold hairpins, a gilt comb inlaid with jade and carved with lotus patterns, and clothing of the finest fabric—comparable to the top‑grade Shu brocade she had seen merchants offer yesterday, which couldn’t even be ordered in bulk with silver.
They were supposed to keep her company, but once Zhao Tianhe left, the two women tacitly began a game of exclusion, avoiding her gaze and chatting only among themselves. Since they didn’t want to include her, she had no desire to join them. When Xiao Xu finished his talk with Zhao Tianhe and came looking for her, she immediately stood, hurried to his side, and tugged at his sleeve, urging him to leave quickly.
Xiao Xu nodded politely to the two women before leaving the courtyard. Only then did he ask Mi Yao, “What is it?”
“Your childhood sweetheart couldn’t win your favor, so she took it out on me, didn’t she?” Mi Yao, with a serious expression, reported Madam Pan’s faults: “You mustn’t get entangled with her. One look and you can tell she’s not honest. If she were beautiful and clever, then at least her scheming would be for your sake—that’s the kind of playfulness between men and women. But her looks aren’t worth it. If you get involved with her, the household will surely fall into disorder.”
Xiao Xu lowered his gaze at her, hearing how she had once again twisted her words into a compliment for him.
As a youth, Zhao Tianhe had warned him that women could cause distraction, so Xiao Xu had never focused his attention on them.
Madam Pan was a slight exception. Back then, when Zhao Tianhe mentioned marrying her to him, he had paid some attention. In his eyes, she wasn’t extraordinarily beautiful, but compared to other women, she stood out. Yet in Mi Yao’s mouth, Madam Pan’s looks became utterly insignificant.
Xiao Xu’s gaze fell on Mi Yao’s face. He understood her standards, but he didn’t want to hear her belittle one woman while praising herself as a clever, charming queen of flowers.
“Afraid Madam Pan will compete with you? Then what about Madam Fang?” Xiao Xu noted how her mood had suddenly dropped when she learned Fang’s identity.
“I thought the Governor was devoted. I never imagined he had a concubine.” Facing Xiao Xu’s scrutinizing eyes, Mi Yao couldn’t be bothered to lie. She spoke plainly.
“Madam Fang only manages Father’s inner household. She doesn’t count as his woman.”
After he explained, Mi Yao’s eyes brightened. Xiao Xu disliked how she tried to meddle in everything, yet seeing her look so moved and admiring upon learning his foster father was truly devoted, he felt a twinge of irritation. He said: “The woman you mentioned the other day—have you found her? I’m not like Father, devoted to one wife. If you can’t tolerate it, then find me someone who can.”
Pausing, Xiao Xu’s gaze swept over Mi Yao’s lotus‑like face. “Her looks must be better than yours, but not worse.”
Their eyes met. Mi Yao’s expression was all innocence—wasn’t this making things difficult for his exquisite little wife?