“Jiaojiao!”
He called out her childhood nickname instinctively, his voice carrying a nervousness he himself had not even noticed.
Looking down, he saw her lying limply in the crook of his arm, her eyes tightly closed. Her long lashes were damp, clinging beneath her eyes. Her breathing was faint, yet tears still fell silently down her pale cheeks like pearls slipping from a broken string.
This time, Huo Shiran truly panicked.
Every trace of his temper, every bit of awkwardness and stubborn pride, vanished in that instant, leaving behind nothing but overwhelming regret and a heart full of pain.
Carefully, he lifted her into his arms.
She was far too light, and the weight—or lack of it—made his arms tremble and his heart clench. He crossed the room in a few quick steps and gently laid her down beneath the soft brocade covers.
Perhaps the movement helped her recover somewhat. Lu Jiaojiao’s eyelids fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.
Her gaze was still unfocused, but the first thing she saw was his face, filled with unmistakable concern.
So this trick really works.
Lu Jiaojiao wasn’t entirely pretending—she really had fainted from hunger.
So why not make the most of it?
“…I’m fine.”
Her voice was as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, hoarse from crying, yet she still forced herself to speak.
“You… you mustn’t tell my family.”
At a time like this, she was still worried about that?
Huo Shiran’s heart gave another sharp twist.
The anger he had only just managed to suppress surged back, tangled with an overwhelming ache for her, until his chest felt unbearably tight.
Looking at her weak yet stubborn appearance, he was both furious and anxious—and yet utterly helpless when it came to her.
“You…”
He opened his mouth, intending to scold her for not taking care of herself.
But when the words came out, they turned into an urgent, almost angry growl.
“Have you eaten anything?!”
Lu Jiaojiao froze at the question.
She pressed her pale lips together and turned her head away, silently admitting the answer.
Huo Shiran was so angry he nearly fell over.
No longer caring about arguing with her, he suddenly turned toward the outer room and shouted,
“Where is everyone?! Where’s the food?! Why hasn’t it been brought yet?! Hurry!”
After shouting, he took a deep breath and turned back.
On the bed, she had curled into herself, her thin figure facing away from him.
His fists clenched, then loosened.
Clenched again.
Then loosened once more.
In the end, his shoulders sagged helplessly. He raised a hand and rubbed his face heavily.
“I must owe you from a past life.”
Very soon, a maid hurried in carrying a tray of steaming bird’s nest porridge and several small dishes.
Huo Shiran immediately took the tray from her and waved her away.
Holding the bowl, he sat down at the edge of the bed.
Looking at the slender figure still facing away from him, her shoulders trembling faintly, he softened his voice.
There was an awkward gentleness in it that he himself did not seem to realize.
“Get up. Eat something.”
The only response was a long silence—
and faint, suppressed sounds of breathing.
Huo Shiran looked at her trembling back and sighed inwardly.
He scooped up a spoonful of warm porridge, gently blew on it, and held it near her.
“Lu Jiaojiao,” he said in a low voice, sounding helplessly resigned, “eat something first. I… won’t tell your father and mother.”
The figure on the bed seemed to pause.
He kept the spoon extended and waited patiently.
After quite a while, Lu Jiaojiao finally turned around.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Her eyes were swollen and red, as was the tip of her nose. Tear tracks still marked her cheeks, making her look unbearably pitiful.
She glanced at the porridge in his hand, then quickly stole another look at him.
Only then did she hesitantly lean forward and take a small bite from the spoon he held.
Watching her obediently eat, Huo Shiran finally felt a little of the weight in his heart lift.
He scooped up another spoonful and continued feeding her patiently.
“You… really won’t tell my family?”
Her voice still carried a trace of tears.
She looked up at him with a deliberately soft, almost coquettish expression. Her eyes, washed clean by tears, were still moist, reflecting just the right amount of fear—
and a faint hint of something else.
Something almost imperceptible.
At that moment, it was as though a spark had fallen into the still waters of Huo Shiran’s mind.
He suddenly realized something.
The hand holding the spoon paused.
His gaze lingered on her delicate face—a face that looked so heartbreakingly pitiful, yet somehow seemed to conceal a hint of another intention.
Well, well.
He almost laughed in disbelief.
Just moments ago, he had been so flustered and worried that he had completely failed to notice what was going on!
Originally, he had intended to put on airs and make her learn how to serve her husband.
So how had things changed so quickly?
How had he, the groom, ended up bustling around after her, carefully holding a bowl of porridge and waiting on this “deeply wronged” new bride?
She was still pale and weak, yes.
But that flash of liveliness and cleverness in her eyes—
where was the broken, devastated girl from just moments ago?
This little fox had clearly taken advantage of the moment. Half genuine and half calculated, she had put on this performance because she knew exactly that he would soften toward her!
Young General Huo had considered himself brave and resourceful on the battlefield.
Yet today, inside this tiny bridal chamber, he had been completely wrapped around a young girl’s finger with nothing more than a few tears!
Huo Shiran’s feelings were a complicated mess.
He was annoyed.
He was amused.
And mixed in with it all was the helpless realization that, despite being played, he somehow couldn’t bring himself to truly get angry.
He narrowed his eyes at the little woman before him, who was clearly beginning to push her luck.
Then he set the bowl of porridge down on the small table beside the bed—not too hard, but not gently either.
Clack.
The sound made Lu Jiaojiao’s slender shoulders tremble slightly.
He leaned down toward her, until their noses were nearly touching.
His eyes burned as he stared directly into hers, his voice carrying a dangerous note of amusement.
“Lu Jiaojiao… are you trying to pull a little pity act on me?”
His fingertips gently brushed the corner of her eye, still damp with tears. The gesture carried a touch of teasing intimacy.
“All right.”
The corner of his mouth curved upward.
“You’ve gotten quite clever.”