As dusk fell, warm orange light filtered through the carved lattice windows, scattering fragmented patches of gold across the blue-gray stone floor.
Lu Jiaojiao dragged her exhausted body out of the side study, feeling a tight throbbing at her temples. Before her eyes, the countless figures from the account books still seemed to sway and dance.
She had spent the entire day going through the ledgers. Income and expenditures, profits from the estates and farms—so many numbers that her head was spinning.
So this was what it was like to be the mistress of a household.
It was nowhere near as effortless as her mother had always made it look when she was a child.
Rubbing her aching temples, she slowly made her way back to her courtyard.
When she pushed open the door, the room was still lavishly decorated in festive splendor. Yet, perhaps because it lacked the familiar atmosphere of home, it somehow felt strangely cold and empty.
She sat down before the dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror.
The woman reflected there had weariness between her brows, her hair arranged in a perfectly neat coiffure.
For some reason, a sudden and indescribable sadness welled up inside her.
She had only been married for two days…
And she already missed home.
She wondered whether her mother had enjoyed her meals today. Had she secretly shed tears again because she was thinking about her daughter?
And what about the crabapple and magnolia trees she had planted with her own hands in her old courtyard? When she left home, they had only just begun to form buds.
Had they blossomed by now?
Had anyone remembered to water them?
Her thoughts drifted farther away, and she could almost smell the familiar fragrance of grass and trees from the little courtyard of her childhood home.
She sighed softly and shook her head, trying to drive away this untimely moment of weakness.
Then she straightened her back before the mirror and took a deep breath.
Never mind.
At the very least… she had played the role of the new bride of the Huo family reasonably well today.
Her manners had been impeccable. The elders were satisfied. Even the most troublesome account books—she had gritted her teeth and managed to work through at least some of them.
Just as her thoughts began to wander again, a thought suddenly popped into her mind without warning.
She hadn’t seen that Ironhead all day.
What was he doing?
Today was his day off. He didn’t even need to report to the military camp.
At that thought, a faint sense of envy mixed with unwillingness rose within her.
He was still the same Young General Huo as always—free to come and go as he pleased. Just like when they were children, if he wanted to ride out of the capital, he could mount his horse and leave. If he wanted to go to the training grounds, he could simply go.
But she…
It felt as though, overnight, her wings had been broken.
She was trapped within the walls of this grand residence, transformed into a proper woman of the inner quarters.
Those carefree days when she had ridden across the outskirts of the capital and laughed without restraint now seemed like memories from another lifetime.
…
By the time the moon had risen high in the sky, more than half the lanterns beneath the corridors had been extinguished.
The courtyard was silent.
Yet there was still no sign of that “Ironhead.”
Lu Jiaojiao set down the book she had been holding, though she had not turned a single page in quite some time. Rubbing her slightly sore eyes, she prepared to call for someone to help her wash up and retire for the night.
But just as the thought arose, that stubborn, competitive streak in her flared up again.
If she gave in so easily—if she simply allowed him to return whenever he pleased and stay away all night whenever he didn’t feel like coming back—wouldn’t that mean that from now on, she would be the one led around by the nose in this household?
It was only their second day of marriage.
If she allowed him to gain the upper hand already, wouldn’t that make her the laughingstock of the century?
Since when had Lu Jiaojiao ever swallowed such a grievance in silence?
With that thought, she abruptly sprang to her feet.
Her previous drowsiness and exhaustion were instantly replaced by a surge of fighting spirit.
She walked to the clothes stand and swiftly took down a crimson brocade outer robe, draping it over her shoulders. She casually tied the fastening, while her long black hair spilled down her back like a waterfall, and she couldn’t even be bothered to comb it properly.
“Xiaochun, bring a lantern. We’re going to the study.”
Her voice was crisp and decisive, leaving no room for argument.
Xiaochun froze for a moment.
Seeing the expression on her mistress’s face one that clearly said she was marching off to demand answers—she dared not ask any questions. She hurriedly picked up a small, exquisitely crafted horn lantern and led the way.
The night air was slightly cool as mistress and maid crossed the silent courtyard, heading directly toward the study attached to Huo Shiran’s quarters.
Bright candlelight shone through the study windows, particularly conspicuous against the deep darkness of the night.
When they reached the door, Lu Jiaojiao signaled for Xiaochun to wait outside.
Then she took a deep breath, raised her hand, and knocked three times—not too loudly, not too softly.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
There was a brief silence inside.
Then Huo Shiran’s voice came from within, carrying a trace of exhaustion and irritation at being disturbed.
“Who is it?”
Lu Jiaojiao didn’t answer.
She simply reached out and pushed open the door.
Huo Shiran was seated behind a large desk, with numerous documents piled before him. In the candlelight, his brows were slightly furrowed, and obvious fatigue lingered on his face. One hand was still pressed against his brow.
The moment he saw her, he visibly froze.
Surprise flashed through his eyes.
Then his irritation quickly gave way to something more complicated—a mixture of wariness and scrutiny.
“So late at night… what business does my wife have with me?”
He lowered his hand and leaned back slightly, assuming a distant, businesslike posture.
Lu Jiaojiao paid no attention to his attitude.
She walked calmly into the study, her gaze sweeping over the desk piled high with official documents before finally settling on his unmistakably tired face.
The corner of her lips curled into a faint, ambiguous smile.
“My husband is truly occupied with affairs day and night. You must be working very hard.”
She paused deliberately, her eyes lingering on his face as her tone turned teasingly suggestive.
“But I wonder… since when has the study in the Marquis’s residence become more appealing than the bedroom of a newlywed wife?”
She paused again.
Then, with a meaningful glint in her eyes, she continued,
“Or could it be…”
“…that my husband is afraid of going back?”
“Afraid that this shrewish wife of yours—who is supposedly uncouth and inconsiderate of her maiden family might bite you again?”