Inside the room, candle flames flickered.
Outside, the cold wind howled.
Shao Mu stood with his black hair tied high, eyebrows and eyes dark as ink, clad in a black robe with a gray fox fur collar, exuding an overwhelming aura of nobility.
Yet in Lin Ruochu's eyes, this appearance only evoked disgust and hatred.
She broke free from his embrace, slowly stepped back half a pace, and performed a clear, formal bow.
"Heir Apparent, the charcoal fire in the room is insufficient, and the windows are drafty. I was too cold to sleep and wanted to go out to find a Kun Dao to ask for some charcoal to warm myself. Unexpectedly, I lost my way and spent a long time searching before finally managing to find my way back to the room."
Shao Mu frowned, noticing her cheeks and nose tip reddened from the cold, her slender body trembling uncontrollably. When he saw the white cloth wrapped around her forehead, his inner irritation intensified.
Shoucheng handed over a warming pot, which Shao Mu shoved into her arms. He then cast a displeased glance at Jinyu kneeling on the floor.
"Something like fetching charcoal actually required you to do it yourself?"
His words implicitly blamed Jinyu for her negligence.
She knelt on the ground, not daring to speak.
Lin Ruochu, holding the warming pot, explained on her behalf: "During the day, Jinyu took care of me the entire journey in the carriage. She is young, and I saw she was sleeping soundly, so I couldn't bear to wake her. That's why I went out to search on my own—it's not her fault. Jinyu, the floor is cold. You may rise."
Hearing this, Shao Mu recalled how, when he first met Lin Ruochu, she had been just as kind and generous toward all the servants.
His gaze softened, and he gestured with his fingers for Jinyu to rise. She sprang up from the floor and stood to the side with her head bowed.
Lin Ruochu breathed a sigh of relief.
But suddenly, Shao Mu reached out and cupped her face again.
His calloused fingertips stroked her cheeks, causing Lin Ruochu to instinctively tense up. She watched as Shao Mu leaned in close to her face.
Shun'an, Shoucheng, and Jinyu tactfully withdrew to the outer room.
Lin Ruochu clenched her fists, her heart racing.
She frantically searched her mind for an excuse to send Shao Mu away, but he made no further move, only holding her face and studying it intently.
After a long moment, he said softly:
"Does the wound still hurt?"
He was referring to the injury on her temple.
"It doesn't hurt anymore, just feels a bit numb."
Lin Ruochu answered truthfully.
In reality, it occasionally throbbed with a sharp pain. She had hit herself harder than Shao Mu had, and her wound was longer. The physician had only briefly cleaned it last night and hadn't had time to apply medicine. After a day of rushing and turmoil, the wound still hadn't fully healed and occasionally oozed blood.
But she had no time to attend to it.
Shao Mu frowned and reached to unwrap the cloth around her forehead.
Lin Ruochu flinched away.
Shao Mu said in a low voice, "Don't move."
So she stayed still, only staring with wide eyes as Shao Mu's slender fingers unwound the cloth from her head layer by layer.
When it was fully removed and he saw the wound on her temple, anger surged in Shao Mu's eyes again.
"It was just a quarrel with me! Why must you mistreat your own body like this?"
He angrily threw the cloth onto the table.
Lin Ruochu thought to herself that the wound on her head must look rather bad.
Though Shao Mu was furious, the hand holding her face never exerted force.
After a while, he took out an exquisite medicine box from his robe, stood up, bent over, and carefully sprinkled medicinal powder onto her wound, shaking the box gently.
Lin Ruochu lowered her gaze to observe his serious expression, and a flicker of doubt arose in her heart.
She dared not claim Shao Mu had been deeply devoted to that female ghost, for had he truly loved her, he would never have stood by while her family abandoned her, watched her reputation crumble under endless scorn, and allowed her to become his concubine under such disgrace.
Nor would he have broken his promise by taking Sun Yiting as a concubine, permitting her to flaunt her pregnancy before her.
When controlled by the female ghost, she had witnessed her collapsing into maddened sobs, the heart-wrenching pain so visceral that she herself suffered alongside the torment.
During her imprisonment, she had thought: if a man truly cherished a woman, he would never drive her to such extremes.
Yet if he hadn’t loved the female ghost, why had she been “forced” to witness their tender affection these past two years?
It seemed both the care and the cruelty were equally real.
The female ghost had never understood Shao Mu’s heart, and Lin Ruochu, as an observer, remained equally perplexed. Her body had been seized at fifteen, before anyone had taught her the complexities of love between men and women.
So, seeing the concern and urgency in Shao Mu’s eyes, she held only one thought: she must never let him discover she differed from that female ghost.
Safely sending him away was her only path to security.
When Shao Mu finished applying the medicine, she rose and knelt directly at his feet.
Shao Mu was taken aback. “Aruo, what are you doing?”
Lin Ruochu bowed her head and spoke with earnest sincerity:
“I beg the Heir Apparent to return to the manor.”
Shao Mu frowned, his gaze turning cold. “Are you dismissing me?”
“This concubine wouldn’t dare. It is only that I bear guilt for my offenses. The Marchioness and the young madam showed mercy by sparing me physical punishment and permitting me to come here to pray for the Marquisate’s blessings.”
“The White Cloud Temple is humble, with chilling drafts permeating these quarters. It is entirely unsuitable for the Heir Apparent to remain long. Should you catch a chill because of me, my sins would only deepen.”
She knelt prostrate, each word measured and proper.
Shao Mu’s eyes fell upon the pale nape exposed by her collar and her slender waist, stirring a peculiar sensation within him.
The Lin Ruochu before him felt unfamiliar—her every word and deed like that of a stranger, as if he had never known her.
As this thought crossed his mind, Lin Ruochu continued:
“Moreover, Concubine Sun’s pregnancy advances. The child in her womb is your firstborn son. You ought to remain by her side, ensuring both mother and child’s safety and well-being.”
These words dispelled Shao Mu’s doubts.
Her earlier remarks had been born of anger, but this—this was the truth.
After all, Concubine Sun’s pregnancy had genuinely wounded her, prompting her to reject his personal name and cling to the rigid etiquette she had once scorned.
Shao Mu sighed, pulling her up from the floor and into his embrace.
Lin Ruochu sat stiffly on his lap as he spoke gently: “I’ve long wished to explain this matter, yet you never gave me the chance.”
“The young madam and I have no children. The firstborn of the inner court must be raised in her household.”
“You’ve always said you adore children. I couldn’t bear to subject you to the pain of separation from your own child. Thus, the first heir had to come from Concubine Sun.”
His tone was soft, almost tender, as if his reasoning were sound.
Yet Lin Ruochu frowned in confusion.
Before she could voice her doubts, a terrifying voice suddenly echoed in her mind:
[System, look! Amu truly loves me—he considered everything so thoughtfully for my sake!]
"Wuwu, I was wrong to have misunderstood him before! I'm not leaving!"