The sky was faint and dim at dawn, and the cold morning mist firmly shrouded the entire village, with not a trace of clear weather.
The smoke of incense drifted and lingered in the thick fog, replacing the usual curls of cooking smoke. The whole village was terrifyingly quiet, and hardly a few words could be heard.
After who knew how long, the sound of a brass gong came from far to near, and the villagers dragged out hoarse, long calls as they shouted: "Worship the mountain god, hold reverence in your hearts, idle people keep away—"
The east wind swept past the branches, stirring up the fine dust on the ground, and scattered footsteps passed by the door and then faded into the distance.
Having been awakened early in the morning by the noise, Jiang Weiyao yawned and lay sprawled over the table, listening to the commotion of the god worship outside, and suddenly could not help laughing.
Thin daylight fell across her brows and eyes. Pei Yunheng stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and looked over upon hearing the sound.
Even though the main door was tightly shut, Jiang Weiyao seemed to have seen some ridiculous scene, and her brows and eyes curved in laughter.
Unlike her usual gentle and restrained smile, there was instead a touch of unrestrained ease that did not quite match her.
Pei Yunheng could not help asking, "What are you laughing at?"
A few strands of morning breeze lifted the loose hair by Jiang Weiyao's ears. She said with a smile, "I was wondering whether the mountain god here gets laughed at by other gods."
The world held the gods in awe, and her words were frivolous, truly blasphemous.
His sword-like brows and starry eyes were tinged with a bit of mist, which made them seem a little less sharp. Pei Yunheng raised an eyebrow slightly, willing to hear the details: "Oh?"
"I heard Aunt Zhou say that this village has worshiped the mountain god for several decades, and even more than twenty Flower Maidens have been chosen, yet the mountain god still flies into a rage every year."
Jiang Weiyao's apricot eyes curved, yet a hint of mockery rose in them: "Is it that the mountain god is useless, or…"
The human heart is never satisfied, like a snake trying to swallow an elephant.
She did not continue, and the mockery in her eyes also faded. She looked smilingly at Pei Yunheng and returned to her former manner: "Isn't it ridiculous?"
His long lashes lowered slightly. Pei Yunheng said, "Using the gods to oppress the people is the conduct of the wicked and must be suppressed by the authorities."
Jiang Weiyao shook her head: "This place is far from the towns, remote and hard to reach. I fear the arm cannot reach."
Pei Yunheng said indifferently: "Then it is the authorities who are incompetent."
As soon as he finished speaking, he lifted his eyes, and the subject shifted as he asked, "Yesterday you even went to seek a little protection from the gods and Buddhas. I had thought you believed in the gods and worshiped the Buddha."
…Truly, there was never a moment when he was not probing.
The expression on Jiang Weiyao's face stiffened, and she said slowly, "Ming'an Temple is very efficacious. Aunt Zhou's safety pendant was sought there, so naturally it is different."
As she spoke, she gave a hum, as if she had remembered yesterday's unpleasantness again, pursed her lips, and turned her head away, leaving him the back of her head.
The god worship continued until noon before it ended.
Cooking smoke finally rose, dispersing some of the choking incense smoke.
"Erya, bring the food box."
Aunt Zhou quickly stir-fried two dishes and came out. She glanced at the chicken soup stewing in the clay pot and threw in a handful of scallions.
In the main room, Erya clutched the medicinal powder tightly in her hand, hesitated as she took two steps forward, then suddenly stopped.
Her palms were sweating, and her heart was in her throat. The words kept replaying in her mind—
"Can you do me a favor and sprinkle this packet of medicinal powder into my husband's food?"
Just what kind of medicine was it, that it had to be secretly sprinkled into food?
Was it poison, or…
Erya racked her brains and could not think of any other possibility.
Was Lady Jiang going to poison her husband to death?
Why?
The image of Lady Jiang's gentle, warm face and her husband's cold, icy countenance flashed through her mind. Erya hesitated, wondering—could it be that her husband also had a habit of hitting people?
Just like her own father.
Yes, that had to be it.
Otherwise, how could someone as good-natured as Lady Jiang bring herself to kill?
Lady Jiang was willing to help her sister and Sister Wang, so naturally she had to repay the kindness.
"What are you doing, girl? Hurry up and come over here!" Aunt Zhou called out loudly.
Her small hands clenched into fists, Erya finally made up her mind and strode toward the kitchen.
By the time Erya arrived with the food box, Jiang Weiyao was already drowsy and half-asleep.
Though she tried hard to feign composure, she was still just a young child after all, and when she saw Pei Yunheng, a trace of panic inevitably showed on her face.
Erya quickly lowered her head and said stiffly, "This is the midday meal."
She pressed her lips together, trying her best to suppress the trembling in her voice: "Two plates of dishes, two bowls of rice porridge, and two bowls of hot soup. The chicken soup is for you to drink, and the sweet soup is for Lady Jiang—it's the village custom after the god-worshiping ceremony."
She had indeed not given much away.
Having said that, she handed the food box to Pei Yunheng and ran off.
No emotion could be discerned on Pei Yunheng's face as he carried the food box inside.
Jiang Weiyao said, "We can't just eat and drink for free. Tomorrow I'll wrap up some silver and send it to Aunt Zhou."
Without waiting for Pei Yunheng to respond, she walked toward the bed: "Go ahead and eat first. I'll take a short nap—just leave some food for me."
His long lashes stirring faintly, Pei Yunheng said indifferently, "The food will be cold by the time you wake."
"Cold is cold. I don't have much of an appetite anyway." Jiang Weiyao said deliberately, "Just leave me a bowl of sweet soup."
This was the first time since the two of them had settled here that they had not sat down to eat together.
Jiang Weiyao removed her shoes and socks and lay down on the bed. The bed curtain slowly fell, and she listened to the sounds in the room.
After a moment, she heard the clink of bowls and chopsticks as she had hoped, and only then did she close her eyes and fall into a deep sleep.
That sleep lasted half an hour.
When she rose again, the incense smoke that had filled the air had completely dispersed. Jiang Weiyao lifted the bed curtain and got down, hearing footsteps entering the courtyard gate.
She walked to the door and looked outside—it was indeed Pei Yunheng, and he was carrying that familiar food box in his hands.
Looking at him in confusion, Jiang Weiyao asked, "What did you go do?"
"I figured you'd be waking up, so I went to heat up the food." Pei Yunheng said.
Jiang Weiyao pressed her lips together: "Why go to all that trouble? I really don't have much of an appetite…"
"No appetite or not, you still need to eat something. Otherwise how will your body hold up?" Pei Yunheng said slowly, then took the reheated dishes out of the food box one by one.
Half of each of the two dishes had been set aside separately, along with a steamed bun… two bowls of hot soup and one bowl of rice porridge.
Jiang Weiyao's thick, curled long lashes couldn't help but tremble for a moment.
Without betraying any emotion, she said, "Why did you leave so much? It seems my husband doesn't have much of an appetite either…"
She said, "Why don't you eat some with me? I really can't finish it all."
His sword-like brows lifting slightly, Pei Yunheng smiled softly, yet a hint of coldness and indifference seeped through his deep-set eyes: "Alright."
The two sat down. Jiang Weiyao did not reach for her chopsticks, but instead reached first for the bowl of sweet soup.
Drinking the sweet soup without tasting it, she then ate half a steamed bun before setting down her chopsticks and saying softly, "I'm full."
Pei Yunheng tapped his knuckles on the table and pushed the steaming bowl of chicken soup toward her. "Chicken soup is your favorite. How can you not try it?"
Jiang Weiyao's expression visibly stiffened. "…I can't eat anymore."
"Besides," she forced a smile, "Erya already said this is the village custom. The chicken soup is for you."
"You were sneering at the mountain god here just this morning. Why are you now obediently following these baseless customs?"
Pei Yunheng looked at her with a half-smile. "Your constitution is weak. You need to drink more chicken soup to build yourself up."
His voice was no longer as cold and hard as before—it even carried a hint of concern—yet it sent chills down one's spine.
When was her constitution ever weak? She just cried easily!
Stop randomly adding settings to her character.
Jiang Weiyao's eyelid twitched violently. She itched to curse him out, her lips pressed into a tight line.
Seeing her silent and unmoving, Pei Yunheng's smile deepened by three parts. "Why aren't you drinking? Could it be…"
Those dark, gloomy eyes watched Jiang Weiyao with keen interest as Pei Yunheng said unhurriedly, "That this bowl of chicken soup has been laced with arsenic?"
Jiang Weiyao jerked her head up to look at Pei Yunheng. Her almond-shaped eyes were filled with disbelief, as though she had been deeply wounded. She closed her eyes, then laughed in anger and raised the still-steaming bowl of chicken soup, draining it in one gulp.
Clang.
She slammed the soup bowl heavily onto the table, her tone carrying undisguised resentment and fury. "Is this enough?!"
With that, she rose and walked away.
"Wait."
She had barely taken two steps, her body not yet past the door threshold, when Pei Yunheng's unhurried voice came from behind once more.
This "wait" inexplicably reminded Jiang Weiyao of the scene when she had encountered Pei Yunheng at the Liu residence.
Her heart couldn't help but sink.
Sighing soundlessly, Jiang Weiyao turned around.
Sword-like brows pressed low, eyes dark as ink, Pei Yunheng's thin lips curved slightly as he looked down at her, as though gazing at a fox already trapped in a cage.
The smile at the corner of his lips was contemptuous and cold.
This scene was indeed familiar.
Jiang Weiyao's almond eyes brimmed with tears, as though she could no longer bear this overwhelming grievance. "What now?"
"And this bowl of plain congee." Pei Yunheng's thin eyelids lifted slightly.
Her breath caught uncontrollably. When Jiang Weiyao came to her senses, she couldn't help but step back. "You…"
Raising a hand to cut off Jiang Weiyao's unfinished words, Pei Yunheng had already enjoyed this drama long enough. His patience gone, he asked, "Will you drink it yourself, or shall I feed you?"
Jiang Weiyao's body trembled violently, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
She had just wanted to step away when Pei Yunheng grabbed her wrist first.
With an unyielding, ruthless force, he pressed Jiang Weiyao down onto the ground. One hand gripped her jaw, and ignoring her desperate struggles, he forced her mouth open and poured the still-warm bowl of plain congee down her throat.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Jiang Weiyao was forced to swallow several mouthfuls, choking so badly she coughed as though her lungs would tear apart.
She pushed Pei Yunheng away with all her strength.
Tears slid down from the corners of her eyes, disheveled strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. Jiang Weiyao sat slumped on the ground in a wretched state, her whole body limp and powerless, as though her bones had been pulled out.
Pei Yunheng's expression was indifferent and hard, not a ripple in the depths of his eyes—cold to the point of near cruelty.
But a quarter-hour passed, then two quarter-hours, then three, then half a shichen…
Jiang Weiyao sat slumped on the ground, her face pale as paper, yet still perfectly fine.
Pei Yunheng's eyes flickered slightly, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Jiang Weiyao suddenly let out a low, bitter laugh.
Tears dripped down her cheeks, soaking the fabric of her dress at her side. Her laughter grew increasingly desolate, her entire body trembling beyond control.
She looked up at Pei Yunheng, her tear-filled eyes churning with shock, anger, and grief: "What are you waiting for, my husband? Waiting for me to bleed from all seven orifices and die of poison?"