Lu Jiaojiao blinked, her thick lashes fluttering like butterfly wings as she put on an innocent, wide-eyed expression.
She pulled out all the stops. Even her voice was deliberately sweetened with a touch of honey as she drawled coquettishly,
“Husband—”
The word was so soft it seemed as though water could be squeezed from it.
“I’m really tired. I want to rest now. Tomorrow morning, I still have to serve tea to Father and Mother.”
Watching her execute such a masterful change of expression, Huo Shiran nearly choked on the breath in his chest.
He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, trying to calm the strange emotion rising within him—whether it was anger or something else entirely, even he could not say. He knew that in tonight’s “contest,” he had temporarily lost the upper hand.
He gave her a long, deep look. His gaze was so complicated that it was impossible to describe. In the end, he said nothing. He abruptly rose to his feet and, carrying an air of barely restrained agitation, strode off toward the bathing room.
He dumped a bucket of icy well water over his head.
The cold shock made him shudder. Huo Shiran closed his eyes and allowed the water to cascade over his body, trying to extinguish the nameless fire burning in his heart.
As the water ran down his neck, a faint sting followed. He reached up and touched the distinct bite mark there. In his mind, the image of her baring her teeth and claws flashed before him, followed by the moment when she had suddenly become so vulnerable.
Finally, the image settled on that sly, coquettish look in her eyes.
“You really are something, Lu Jiaojiao…” He wiped the water from his face and let out a low, humorless laugh. There was a hint of gritted teeth in his voice, but also the thrill of having finally met a worthy opponent. “We have plenty of time ahead of us. Just you wait.”
By the time he returned, carrying a faint chill with him, the little woman on the bed had already washed up and changed into clean sleeping clothes. She lay quietly on the innermost side of the bed, her back facing outward, her breathing even and deep, seemingly already fast asleep.
Huo Shiran looked at her slender figure and made no attempt to be polite—this was his home, his bed. He could sleep wherever he pleased.
With one step, he climbed onto the bed. His movements carried the fresh, clean scent of someone who had just bathed, along with a presence that was impossible to ignore.
In truth, Lu Jiaojiao had sensed his return. Every nerve in her body instinctively tensed for a moment.
But she really was exhausted—body and soul.
From the palace banquet to the wedding night, her emotions had been through tremendous ups and downs all day. On top of that, she had barely eaten anything. Then she had cried so hard earlier. At this point, she hardly had the strength to lift a finger, let alone continue sparring with him.
She felt the mattress sink behind her as warmth and the faint sound of his breathing drew closer.
All she could do was maintain her pretense of sleep, not daring to move.
Huo Shiran lay down beside her. There was neither too much nor too little distance between them. They could clearly sense each other’s body heat and breathing.
Inside the red-curtained bed, silence reigned.
Only two heartbeats, each beating at a different rhythm, filled the night.
That night, Huo Shiran had a dream.
In his dream, it was midsummer at the military camp in the northwest.
The yellow sand had been baked scorching hot by the sun, and the air was thick with the smells of dust and horse dung.
In a corner of the training ground, two half-grown children were wrestling fiercely.
The reason?
Nothing more than who had found first a lost wolf’s tooth that had been polished smooth and shiny.
Back then, Lu Jiaojiao had been nearly half a head shorter than him. Her hair was tied into two messy little buns, yet her strength was astonishing.
With one swift sweep of her leg, she knocked him flat onto the sand. Her knee pressed firmly against his back as her small hand tightly clutched the wolf’s tooth, waving it triumphantly in front of his eyes.
“Do you admit defeat, Huo Ironhead?”
Her clear voice was full of undisguised pride. Beads of sweat rolled down her sun-darkened, wheat-colored face, while her eyes shone as brightly as stars in the sky.
His face flushed red as he struggled uselessly in the sand, but no matter what he did, he could not break free from her hold.
Humiliation and frustration burned inside him like fire.
The soldiers around them were all laughing, watching the young commander of the Huo family get pinned down and beaten by the Lu family’s little girl.
“Lu Jiaojiao! Just you wait!”
He craned his neck, his voice distorted slightly from being pinned down, as he swore viciously,
“Once I grow taller and stronger, I’ll definitely… definitely beat you until you’re utterly defeated! If I don’t avenge this humiliation, I swear I’m not a man!”
Girls matured earlier than boys.
During those years, it seemed that he was always the one losing.
Whether they were fighting over a cricket, a little foal, or even a sweeter piece of melon…
Every single time, that wild girl would leave him so furious that he stomped his feet and ground his teeth, constantly thinking of only one thing:
Revenge.
But what happened afterward?
Later, he really did grow taller.
His frame broadened, his limbs lengthened, and his strength eventually far surpassed hers.
They no longer fought over little trinkets, yet whenever they met, they were still like needle against wheat—always trading barbs, always refusing to give an inch.
Somehow… he had long since gained the ability to “take revenge.”
And yet, it seemed that he had forgotten that original determination—the one that had once made him grit his teeth with fury.
Instead, over the years, their endless “battles” had gradually become something else entirely.
A habit between them.
Something neither of them ever needed to acknowledge aloud.