Her beautiful eyes seemed both coy and reproachful, a moist, almond-shaped gaze as lively and enchanting as that snowy night, enough to melt the heart.
“Smell me—I reek.”
Instead of clinging to Xiao Xu’s arm coquettishly, Mi Yao only pinched the hem of his robe and gave it a gentle shake.
That slight tug was like an ant trying to move a tree—too weak to provoke resistance. It was more like a bird’s wing brushing across a lake, stirring a faint itch in the skin she hadn’t even touched.
“Where do you smell?”
The moment she appeared, a fragrance like musk and blossoms wafted toward him. Xiao Xu inhaled lightly; beyond the sweet floral scent, he caught a pure milky note on her body, soft and tempting, like a newborn civet kitten. He wondered how these noblewomen concocted their balms to produce such layered aromas.
“Xiao Lang, don’t flatter me with sweet words. I’ve been sick for days—how could I not stink?”
The moment Xiao Xu entered, Granny Wu rushed to complain one line after another. He naturally understood why Mi Yao was putting on this act. He drew out the hand she clutched at his robe and placed it at her waist. Even through the fur coat, her waist was so slender it felt unreal.
He had intended to provoke her, to make her reveal disdain for his humble origins. Yet when he pulled her close, she melted against him bonelessly, sinking deeper into his embrace, and he found himself tightening his hold.
When no resistance came, Xiao Xu had no desire to stand in the courtyard and let others watch. He strode forward, carrying her into the room. Inside, his lips curved faintly at the sight.
This private house had been his occasional lodging in Jingzhou. He remembered it as bare—just a bed, a table, a few essentials, nothing worth a second glance. But Mi Yao had been here only four days, still ill, and already the place had transformed.
Her sister must have packed cleverly, for there were embroidered drapes to hide the plainness, and a dressing table by the bed with a bronze mirror inlaid with purple jade and pearls. The room now breathed of feminine refinement, subtle fragrance everywhere. For the first time, he felt the reality of having won a beauty.
“Is it boredom—or dissatisfaction with the food?”
Since she was his beauty, Xiao Xu spoke with more patience. Recalling Granny Wu’s complaints, he asked gently.
While Xiao Xu was surveying the room, Mi Yao was surveying him.
That night, he had sat astride a black horse, snowflakes swirling in the cold air, like a god of slaughter descending.
Now, without that setting, Xiao Xu had shed his sable cloak. Dressed in a deep-blue brocade robe patterned with silver blossoms, he looked no softer or kinder. Beneath his pale, sharp eyes was a high, bold nose; below that, lips thin as sword scars. The hard lines of his face made his handsomeness strikingly aggressive. With his towering height and broad, commanding shoulders, he carried an aura that made others instinctively step back. Yet for all his forbidding looks, he was still the man who had openly declared before everyone that he would marry a beauty. So there was no need to analyze why the book said he sought the original’s hand—at the very least, a woman’s beauty was within his requirements.
“I was born to be a delicate flower placed high for admiration. What is there to say of boredom? Even at home, I might not step outside once in ten days.”
“So it is the food that displeases you.”
“Xiao Lang, you must have already seen Granny Wu. Do you truly believe her cooking could nurture anything rare or precious?”
Xiao Xu recalled Granny Wu. He had never thought much of it—most old women he saw were slovenly. But compared to Mi Yao standing before him, he understood her disdain.
A delicate flower must be delicately raised. Even if in truth it grows from dung, the surface must be covered with rare wood shavings, and the nourishment called divine dew.
“You’ll stay here one more day. Tomorrow I’ll send men to escort you back to Yizhou. Once at my residence, you may choose whichever cook you like.”
“Will you send me alone, or will my attendants go with me?” Mi Yao lifted her hand, showing him her fingers. “Look, without balm, my skin already shows fine lines. My eyes, without medicinal steam, have lost their brightness. My face, my hair…”
She covered her lips with her fingers, drawing two shallow breaths. “This bout of illness has aged me five years. Without maids to attend me, I fear in a few days I’ll wither into Granny Wu’s likeness.”
Granny Wu’s face flashed in his mind, and Xiao Xu’s brow twitched. Though he thought she looked no different than before, he understood her delicate complaint.
If she had met him with tantrums, demanding news of her lover, he could have ignored her. But like this—soft in his arms, gazing at him with watery eyes—even if it was an act, as long as she played it well, he could not dismiss her requests.
In truth, he ought to punish the scouts who had investigated the Yu family. The reports had clearly described the Yu daughter as proud, clinging to her lineage, no better than her feckless lover—spending her days writing petty poems and mocking the rising houses of humble birth.
For her, marrying such a rough, uncultured man would be more unbearable than death itself. But did she look unbearable now?
He had heard phrases before—“soft as boneless,” “warm fragrance, tender jade.” He thought he understood them. Yet only when he carried her onto his horse that snowy night, and now as she lay in his arms like flowing water, did he truly grasp their meaning. Once in his embrace, the Yu girl seemed drained of all bones, unable even to stand.
“The Yu family’s servants must remain at the post station for a few more days. I’ll send one maid and a cook to you shortly. In a few days, I’ll have the rest sent to leave together with you.”
“Since you say so, I can rest easy.”
Lowering his gaze, Xiao Xu saw Mi Yao’s satisfied, playful smile. He found it impossible to reconcile Granny Wu’s complaints of arrogance and rudeness with the woman before him.
“You don’t ask what I intend to do with them?”
“You have your own arrangements. Why should I ask about matters that don’t concern me?” Mi Yao rested her hand on his neck, meeting his eyes. “You seek a beauty as radiant as a flower. What I seek is stable, nourishing soil where I can take root and bloom—someone to care for me, so I need never suffer hardship. You and I are simply a perfect match.”
Her soft voice grew quieter. She had only meant to be frank, to show him she could play the role of a delicate, ornamental wife. But when her eyes caught the movement of his Adam’s apple and the tension in his jaw, she felt pressured to prove her charm more tangibly. Yet before her lips could brush his neck, Xiao Xu released her and stood.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll rest in the next room. While I’m away, you may instruct the servants if you need anything.”
Without waiting for her reply, he strode out and pushed the door open.
“Why did the Commander come out so quickly?” Granny Wu, with her daughter-in-law, was tidying the room prepared for rest. Zhao De waited outside. He hadn’t expected Xiao Xu to emerge so soon from the Yu girl’s chamber, before the room was even arranged. Though he knew his superior was inexperienced, this speed seemed far too quick.
Meeting Zhao De’s strange gaze, Xiao Xu didn’t need to ask to know what he was imagining.
“Get out.”
Hearing the chill in Xiao Xu’s tone, Zhao De shrank his neck. Yet once the room was cleared, he still couldn’t resist slipping inside.
Zhao De was a household slave, granted the surname by Xiao Xu’s foster father, Zhao Tianhe. When Xiao Xu first entered the army, he had saved Zhao De’s life. Later, when Zhao Tianhe noticed Xiao Xu, Zhao De had followed him ever since. Compared to other subordinates, Zhao De’s bond with him was much deeper, so he dared to ask more.
“Could it be the Yu girl was unwilling? Just now, her behavior outside—was it only for the sake of that lover of hers?”
Earlier, Mi Yao had acted coy and playful with Xiao Xu in the courtyard, not hiding it from anyone. Such allure—if a man could refuse it, he was either a eunuch or a saint descended to earth, born without desire.
“She didn’t mention that scholar.”
“Exactly. One is a powerless, penniless bookworm who left her freezing in an ox cart at night. The other is a mighty general with limitless prospects. If the Yu girl has eyes, she should know whom to choose.”
After saying this, Zhao De realized the problem wasn’t with her—it must be with Xiao Xu. His thoughts drifted downward, glancing at Xiao Xu’s lower body. They were men in their twenties. Xiao Xu had never joined them at brothels, and Zhao De had suspected something was wrong. He had even sneaked a look once when Xiao Xu bathed in the river. What he saw nearly stunned him—the size of a donkey. If even that wasn’t functional, then no man in the world was.
“Could it be, Commander, that you don’t like women?”
Xiao Xu’s gaze was like a cold blade. Zhao De felt as though he’d been cut to pieces. “With such a beauty in your arms, why…”
“I haven’t married her yet.”
“What?”
Zhao De was dumbfounded. That was his reason? He couldn’t understand. Those noble sons who prided themselves on their lineage would sleep with any woman they fancied. His master was a warlord, yet he clung to rules.
“I’m not some starving wolf who loses his mind at the sight of a woman. Once married, I’ll sleep with her. Since we’re not married, why should I do it early?”
Xiao Xu’s expression was indifferent. He saw nothing wrong with his restraint. Rather, it was his subordinate who was too obsessed with women, needing discipline lest he one day fall to temptation and ruin important matters.
After giving instructions to find Mi Yao a maid and a cook, Xiao Xu added before resting: “Send men to infiltrate the Yu household and investigate the Yu girl again. See if they’ve found women resembling the legitimate daughter to cover for her.”
“Commander suspects this isn’t truly the Yu daughter?” Zhao De thought back to their earlier reports. Judging by her attitude toward her lover, she didn’t seem to match.
“She both resembles and doesn’t.”
Her temperament was unlike, but her face was worthy of being called Jiangnan’s number one beauty.
When he had sought her hand, he hadn’t chosen other beauties, but Yu Mi Yao, not only for her reputation, but because her elder legitimate brother held office at court, serving as Director of Revenue.
Shu lacked civil officials. His strategist’s list had placed Yu Shaoyang first.
The Yu girl thought he wanted her only as a pretty ornament. But he was greedier than she imagined. Beyond a pleasing decoration, he wanted to draw from her the nourishment that could enrich Shu. If she could only provide the former, she was nothing but a vase gathering dust. He had no patience for whether her fingers grew fine lines or her eyes lost brightness. No matter how alluring her charms, in his eyes, she was less useful than the slovenly Granny Wu.