Her words sounded almost like a surrender, but Lin Guanguan softened her tone anyway. “Song Zhiyao, I’m not saying I won’t return it… but could you give me a little more time?”
“We’ve known each other for so many years, after all… we’re like family…”
“Lin Guanguan, you jest,” Suxin interrupted with a smile. “Our Young Madam is Song, a Lu family wife. You, Lin Guanguan, are Lin—how could you be considered family?”
Indeed, neither the Song nor the Lu families had any connection to Lin. Lin Guanguan had no name or status beside Lu Jinyu.
Biting her lip, Lin Guanguan shot Suxin a glance, then turned back to Song Zhiyao. “Just a little more time.” She had no money at the moment—killing her wouldn’t change that.
“Three days,” Song Zhiyao said. “If I don’t see the items within three days, the legal notice will go straight to Jingzhao Prefecture.”
“Song Zhiyao…”
“Two days.” Song Zhiyao cut her off, leaving Lin Guanguan no chance to argue.
“Three days… three days it is,” Lin Guanguan hurriedly agreed.
“Lin Guanguan, take care,” Song Zhiyao said, then turned and returned to Zhimoyu Courtyard.
Lin Guanguan glanced toward Song Zhiyao and saw the father and two sons standing under the corridor roof. Song Zhiyao headed straight toward them. Lin Guanguan’s eyes flickered slightly.
Song Zhiyao entered the courtyard without explaining why Lin Guanguan had come—after all, the idea of giving Lu Jinyu to settle a debt sounded… nauseating. She couldn’t even say it aloud.
The father and sons didn’t ask further. Song Zhiyao smiled at the two little ones, her eyes soft, and said, “Where did we leave off in our story?”
…
Lin Guanguan returned to Qingshan Courtyard in frustration. The entire place was empty; most of the belongings had been moved. It was orderly, but the emptiness felt uncomfortable.
She entered the main room. Lu Jinyu was resting on the bed. Half the room was empty, even the bed canopy had been removed. Of course, Song Zhiyao would sell these things once back—she wouldn’t use them again. But what belonged to Lin Guanguan had to be taken back.
Lu Jinyu immediately noticed her mood and gently held her hand. “Guanguan, it’s alright—just some worldly possessions.”
He had never wanted what Song Zhiyao initially gave. After all, she was his sister-in-law. But Lin Guanguan liked it.
So he had never stopped her, and over time, had grown used to Song Zhiyao sending things.
Lin Guanguan’s heart ached; she couldn’t even smile. Plus, she still owed so much…
“Jinyu-gege,” Lin Guanguan crouched by the bed, looking up at him. “If I’ve done something wrong, will you forgive me?”
“Of course,” Lu Jinyu said, patting his chest. “You saved my life, gave birth to Yan’er for me, and patiently stayed by my side even without name or status… how could I ever be angry?”
He held her hand gently. “Guanguan, tell me—what happened?”
“Did Song Zhiyao pressure or bully you?” Lin Guanguan asked, frowning.
Lu Jinyu’s brows darkened; the mere mention of Song Zhiyao seemed to make him want to go and confront her.
Lin Guanguan shook her head lightly. “Jinyu-gege, I was just… scared.”
“Jinyu-gege, will you marry me?” She lowered her head. “They all mocked me, saying I can only stay with you without status…”
Lu Jinyu, already feeling indebted to her, didn’t hesitate. “Guanguan, I will marry you. In this life, I will marry no one but you.”
“Give me some time. Once I’ve earned my degree, I’ll request the emperor’s permission to marry you properly—grandly, openly. No one, not even my father, can stop me then.”
He had promised to marry her three years ago when he returned to the Lu family. But no one agreed, not even his doting father. For years, Madam Lu had tried introducing other girls from the capital, worrying about his marriage. But Lu Jinyu had rejected them all.
Lin Guanguan shook her head through tears. “But I don’t want to wait that long, Jinyu-gege. I want to marry you soon. Can we go to the Yue Lao Temple and wed?”
“That won’t do,” Lu Jinyu frowned. “No one compares to you in my heart. I want to marry you properly, with ceremony and honor. How could I let you endure such humiliation?”
Lin Guanguan started to speak again, but Lu Jinyu firmly said, “Next year, in the spring exam, I will succeed. Then I’ll petition for an official title for you, making you my rightful wife with honor.”
She could only nod along.
…
Zhimoyu Courtyard.
After the children slept, Song Zhiyao and Lu Yanzhi left. The cold wind reminded Song Zhiyao to ask, “Lu Yanzhi, your injuries—are you alright?”
“Nothing serious,” Lu Yanzhi replied.
It was impressive that Song Zhiyao could even remember him. She nodded, said nothing further, and at the fork in the road, Lu Yanzhi was about to return to the study.
Cangfeng said, “General, the bed in your study has been tidied by Madam’s order.”
“Madam said… the study is too cold for an injured person to stay.”
In short, he was to stay back at Guipu Courtyard.
Song Zhiyao didn’t expect Madam Lu to act this way, but after a moment, she said, “Let’s go.”
Lu Yanzhi followed in silence. The study’s heated floor hadn’t been lit; Song Zhiyao had assumed he would sleep there tonight.
It was late, so they stayed in the main room. This time, Lu Yanzhi took the small couch before Song Zhiyao could.
“That… isn’t proper,” she thought. He was injured because of her and the children—he should at least be polite.
Lu Yanzhi looked up at her, then said flatly, “I don’t want to wake up with someone else beside me.”
He meant, of course, in his arms.
Song Zhiyao froze. That sounded… as if she had deliberately thrown herself into his arms! And he had refused!
She quickly shut her mouth and stayed silent, pretending she hadn’t said anything.
Song Zhiyao went to bathe, leaving Lu Yanzhi alone. He didn’t feel awkward—only that the small couch still carried her scent from last night.
After she finished, Lu Yanzhi entered the room. Song Zhiyao had already dried her hair and was sitting on the bed, going through the account book. She was fully awake, reading a little before bed.
His eyes drifted over her, then froze. She was in her underclothes; her damp hair clung slightly to her skin, outlining her figure.
She was focused on her work, completely unaware.
Lu Yanzhi quickly averted his gaze and went to the outer room to have Cangfeng apply his medicine.
“General,” Cangfeng said, voice raised, “it’s inappropriate for me to enter the Young Madam’s bedroom.”
“Young Madam, please apply the medicine for the General,” Lu Yanzhi said.
He was about to refuse, but Song Zhiyao agreed immediately. “Alright.”
She got up and was about to leave the inner room. “Where’s the medicine?”
Lu Yanzhi rose abruptly, blocking her. “It’s with me.”
Cangfeng remained at the outer door.
Song Zhiyao’s current appearance… was not suitable for going out. The door closed, leaving just the two of them. She took the medicine from his hand.
“Take it off,” she said.
Lu Yanzhi looked at her. She looked at him. They locked eyes, and Song Zhiyao suddenly realized her words might… have sounded ambiguous.
She cleared her throat. “I mean… I can’t apply the medicine unless you take off your clothes.”
Before she finished, Lu Yanzhi’s hands were on his chest.
His clothes came off in a swift motion.
Song Zhiyao was caught completely off guard.
Though they were married, this was the first time she had seen his body. On their wedding night, she hadn’t dared. But now, under the candlelight, she saw it clearly.
His chest and abdominal muscles were fully visible. He had seemed slim in clothes, but without them, his body was solid and strong. His skin, once pale, was darker now, likely from campaigns.
But—
“Enough looking?” Lu Yanzhi’s voice cut through above her head, interrupting her thoughts.
Song Zhiyao’s face flushed red. She quickly looked away. “Um… lie down.”
Embarrassed, he complied. Her gaze returned to him.
Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist formed a perfect inverted triangle—but his back was marred with deep, bloody wounds.
Song Zhiyao frowned. This was far worse than he had admitted. Seeing it firsthand made it real. She sat beside the small couch.
“This might hurt a little. Bear with it.”
She began applying the medicine.
Lu Yanzhi didn’t speak. Pain? This was nothing—he had been wounded far worse on the battlefield.
A shiver ran through him as her soft fingers spread the cold ointment over his wounds, tracing gentle paths along his body.
Her hair fell softly over his shoulder, the scent lingering near his nose.
He felt enveloped by her presence.
Song Zhiyao worked meticulously, ensuring every wound was treated. Then, almost casually, she asked, “Your back wounds… are they from the battlefield?”
Lu Yanzhi paused, then nodded. “Yes.”
She worked in silence, then he asked, “Finished?”
Once she confirmed, he got up to dress.
“I’ll help,” Song Zhiyao said, assisting him. She hadn’t realized before that his injuries extended to his arms.
During dressing, the wounds were inevitably tugged slightly. Lu Yanzhi instinctively stepped back, tone distant. “Thank you.”
But it was unnecessary.
Song Zhiyao hurriedly reassured him, “Lu Yanzhi, I’m just helping. Nothing more.”