But it only lasted a moment.
He raised his hand to brush away Jiang Weiyao's arm around his waist, and took a step back. After putting some distance between them, he said calmly, "Let's go in first."
Wiping the tear stains from her face, Jiang Weiyao's gaze swept imperceptibly over Zhang Da behind him, and she reluctantly stepped aside.
Zhang Da was bulky and still unconscious. Pei Yunheng had bound him with hemp rope and dragged him into the cave one-handed. Daya and Erya couldn't help but be startled at the sight.
Erya hesitated and asked, "What happened to Uncle Zhang?"
Omitting the matter of threatening Zhang Da in the mountains, Jiang Weiyao explained the whole sequence of events, and the two naturally understood, their expressions darkening in unison.
Erya angrily turned her head and grabbed a handful of pebbles to throw at him, while Daya looked worriedly toward the Wang family sister huddled in the corner of the cave.
Facing the stone wall, Wang Yulan had her arms wrapped around her knees, her head buried deep. She didn't dare look up or turn around, her body visibly trembling.
She was afraid.
Seeing Daya sigh and walk over, Jiang Weiyao paused her steps and did not approach further.
After tying the unconscious Zhang Da to a large rock in the cave and ensuring he couldn't move, Pei Yunheng left the cave and kept watch outside.
The night wind on the mountain was cold, howling past and bending the grass and trees every which way. Faintly, the howls of beasts—indistinguishable by species—could be heard.
Pei Yunheng sat alone under the moonlight, eyelids half-lowered, his expression revealing neither joy nor anger. He held a wooden stick between his fingers, poking at the rock beneath his feet in an idle, intermittent manner.
Once things grew quiet, his thoughts became difficult to settle.
He truly could not trust Jiang Weiyao.
Not just out of intuition, but also because…
Pei Yunheng looked at his palm, spreading his five fingers. The thin, hard calluses were clearly visible under the moonlight.
These certainly weren't worn from holding books and scrolls—at a glance, they came from years of gripping blades and weapons.
Though he had no memories of his past, he still knew his own body.
Not just the calluses on his palms, but also the knife and sword wounds of varying depths across his body, old scars from years past, and that overly keen sense of smell, the vigilance he couldn't even explain to himself, the occasional bloodthirsty cruelty that surfaced, and his skilled killing techniques…
How could all of this be the marks a scholar should bear?
Moreover…
Pei Yunheng took a deep breath, unable to stop himself from recalling that day at the bottom of the cliff, the scene when he first laid eyes on Jiang Weiyao.
The sun was rising in the east, golden rays piercing through the thin mist, scattering layer by layer beneath the deep cliff. The grass and trees at the valley bottom were damp with dew that condensed into faint light. The sunlight slanted down, reflecting a scattered, cold gleam.
He had woken two breaths before Jiang Weiyao.
His head was heavy as iron, as though pierced by thousands of thick needles. He clutched his chest and sat up, and a mouthful of clotted blood sprayed from his lips.
In a daze, he looked up and saw that equally bedraggled figure not far away.
It was very strange.
His head hurt terribly, his memories a chaotic blur. Scene after blurry, indistinguishable scene flashed swiftly through his mind, leaving him unable to grasp even a fragment.
Yet when he saw this figure, besides a trace of familiarity that arose naturally, a strange feeling suddenly surged in his heart.
His heart felt as though it were being tightly gripped by a hand, and even his breathing grew unsteady for a moment.
He could not figure out where this feeling came from, but he disliked it greatly.
He thought this emotion should be resistance, rejection, killing intent.
Before he lost his memories, he must have deeply loathed this person.
These strange anomalies were like sharp thorns, mercilessly piercing Jiang Weiyao's lies before they could even reach his heart.
All this time, he had been watching her coldly, searching for cracks, trying to pry out the lost memories and her true identity.
So the moment Jiang Weiyao destroyed the kitchen, he knew the time had come.
But…
Clenching his palm, Pei Yunheng let out a slow sigh. His usually cold black eyes were, for once, tinged with a rare hint of confusion.
After falling off the cliff and waking up, every word Jiang Weiyao had spoken flashed through his mind. He stopped sneering at her words and began to think more carefully.
He needed to reconsider everything from the start, until the answer surfaced.
But footsteps already sounded from behind, drawing nearer.
That familiar faint floral scent drifted over. Pei Yunheng didn't turn around, yet he knew who was coming.
Sure enough, a few breaths later, Jiang Weiyao sat down beside him.
Drawing in her neck, Jiang Weiyao seemed to still be shaken, casting a timid glance at him before lowering her head. "The wind is strong at night. Why don't you go inside?"
Most of those in the cave were women; it was hardly appropriate for him to stay in there.
Pei Yunheng didn't speak, only remained silent.
Taking his silence as continued suspicion, Jiang Weiyao took the pouch from her waist and handed it to him. "I heard from Aunt Zhou that the gods at Ming'an Temple are quite efficacious, and the abbot sells a kind of talisman paper that can ease estrangement between husband and wife. So I went to pray for one."
Pei Yunheng remembered that day—looking for her in the side chamber but not finding her, then seeing her in the Buddha hall, and the abbot seeing her off from the stone steps.
Taking the pouch and opening it, he slipped his fingers inside and gave it a light pinch. He reached a conclusion—it was talisman ash mixed with some fine white medicinal powder.
He brought it beneath his nose and gave it a gentle sniff, confirming it was the same scent that had appeared in those two bowls of plain congee.
"…I may be a little slow, but I'm not foolish. I've seen your guardedness and coldness toward me all this time, yet I don't know why—when I want to explain, I don't even know where to begin."
Her voice was soft, slightly choked, but she wasn't crying. "In a moment of panic, I asked Erya to sprinkle it into the meals. If it truly worked, nothing would be better than for us to mend our relationship. If not, it would only cost a little silver. Who knew… who knew the powder would actually be poisonous…"
Jiang Weiyao held back her tears and urgently grabbed Pei Yunheng's sleeve. "Husband, I truly didn't intend to poison you. I may be angry that you've grown distant with me now, but you are my husband—the only one I can rely on. How could I ever harm you?"
"Believe me… please believe me…" Her tone was pleading, and her tears finally rolled down against her will.
His Adam's apple moved up and down. Pei Yunheng's gaze slowly traveled upward from Jiang Weiyao's fingers gripping his sleeve. When it reached those slightly pale lips, he instinctively averted his eyes, his palm unconsciously clenching.
As if that soft, warm touch still lingered relentlessly in his hand.
He looked away, lips parting slightly, as if to say something—but he didn't know what to say.
Should he believe her?
Could he believe her?
The doubts around her remained unsolved, and that nearly perfectly replicated jade pendant still hung at his waist. He couldn't convince himself.
The app remained silent in response to Jiang Weiyao's words, yet he inexplicably asked, "You… don't you resent me?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
Jiang Weiyao didn't hear clearly: "What?"
Gently rubbing his fingers together, Pei Yunheng paused for a moment, then repeated, "You don't resent me?"
Lowering her eyes, Jiang Weiyao also fell silent for a few breaths. "…Of course I do."
She said, "I don't resent you for feeding me plain congee. I only resent that you no longer treat me as you once did, and that you harbor suspicions against me."
"Then why…" He paused, his tone maintaining its usual calm indifference, "Why do you still worry about me?"
Another brief silence followed.
Sensing the fingertips tightly gripping his sleeve loosen, Pei Yunheng's thin lips pressed together lightly.
Jiang Weiyao stood up, but instead of leaving, she walked to stand before him.
Before Pei Yunheng could wonder at her intent, Jiang Weiyao had already crouched down, her glistening apricot eyes quietly gazing at him.
For some reason, though her eyes were no different from usual, Pei Yunheng instinctively wanted to avert his gaze—yet his hand was suddenly taken in hers.
The warm, delicate sensation of her skin against his made his brow twitch sharply.
Jiang Weiyao looked directly into his ink-black pupils, refusing to let him look away: "I worry about you because I care about you. Likewise, I resent you because I care about you."
"Love gives rise to worry, to fear, to hatred, to resentment. If I were completely indifferent to you, how could I possibly resent or worry?"
This was a rare expression of hers—so earnest it bordered on solemn and grave.
Pei Yunheng's breath caught.
His heart suddenly beat twice in quick succession, and a strange emotion welled up from the depths of his chest—so unfamiliar it was almost alien, causing him to instinctively furrow his brow as resistance rose within him.
He pulled his hand back and rose abruptly, his taut features turning even colder and sharper.
He nearly snapped in a frigid tone: "Sweet talk!"
"I'm not!" Jiang Weiyao stood up as well, refuting loudly and indignantly, "Everything I said came from the heart!"
Pei Yunheng refused to listen further and turned to leave.
Jiang Weiyao hurriedly followed two steps: "Where are you going?"
"Taking a walk."
He coldly spat out two words.
Jiang Weiyao couldn't believe her ears: "In the dead of night, what's there to enjoy on a lonely, cold mountain?"
Pei Yunheng said no more and walked toward the woods.
He needed some quiet.
A peaceful place where he could calmly think through everything that had happened recently.
"Grass grows and orioles fly, but beasts roam wild! Tigers and wolves will appear at night!" Jiang Weiyao deliberately mimicked his tone.
His steps faltered slightly. Pei Yunheng turned his head to look at her, his tone cool: "Then why are you still following me?"
"If I don't follow you, how can I bring you back?"
Jiang Weiyao said with complete confidence, reaching out to tug at his sleeve: "Come on, let's head back quickly. Don't be shy, husband."
"…"
His brow furrowed deeply, Pei Yunheng looked at Jiang Weiyao as if she had said something utterly absurd: "Shy?!"
"Are you not shy?" Jiang Weiyao asked in a light, airy tone. "Then why is your face red?"
His face was red…?
Pei Yunheng's brow furrowed even tighter.
Of course not.
Jiang Weiyao was simply taking advantage of the fact that there was no bronze mirror here and Pei Yunheng couldn't see his own expression—she had made it up on the spot.
She pulled his sleeve and led him back, pretending not to notice that Pei Yunheng didn't wish to be in her company: "It's too cold. Let's hurry back."
She tugged at Pei Yunheng to turn back, but he didn't budge. Just as she was about to speak again, Erya came rushing out, her little face pale as paper: "Lady Jiang, Brother Pei, Zhang… he's awake!"
Though Erya's words were vague, the two immediately understood—Zhang Da had woken up.
A faint tightness gripped her heart. Jiang Weiyao's gaze darkened, and her steps slowed involuntarily as her eyes fell on Pei Yunheng, who was turning back.
She had finally seized the opportunity to stir some hesitation in Pei Yunheng, yet Zhang Da had to wake up now.
It was hard to guarantee that, once he saw her, he wouldn't start spouting nonsense.