Jiang Lan was so absorbed in reading in the study that she only snapped back to reality when the lamp wick on the desk emitted faint crackling sounds.
She instinctively looked up at the wall, but the clock that usually hung in its fixed spot was gone, replaced by an elegantly styled screen.
Then, belatedly, she remembered her promise to Qin Yuehan and hurriedly stood up, making her way toward Lingyue Pavilion.
Gazing up at the pitch-black night sky, Jiang Lan thought, “It’s over. Qin Yuehan must think I did this on purpose.”
[Host, you’re on your own~] System 009 suddenly chimed in.
Hearing this, Jiang Lan’s steps faltered mid-stride, nearly tripping on flat ground.
“009, is it true that I’m your first host? Did all the previous hosts get tricked to death by you?” Jiang Lan asked, her tone laced with bitterness, almost as if she were finding humor in her predicament.
System 009 chuckled and replied, [How could that be? It’s just that some quick-transmigration taskers lose themselves to their desires.]
Jiang Lan didn’t press the matter further, as the entrance to Lingyue Pavilion was now in sight.
She stepped inside, where lanterns hung at every corner of the corridor, illuminating the stone path brightly.
Qin Zhong was dozing off by Qin Yuehan’s door and only woke when Jiang Lan approached with her lantern.
“Household Head?” Qin Zhong greeted, instinctively bowing.
“Mm, has your young master gone to bed?” Jiang Lan inquired.
Qin Zhong glanced at the closed door, pondering how to respond, when Qin Yuehan’s cool voice came from inside: “Qin Zhong, invite the Household Head in.”
Qin Zhong pushed the door open, and Jiang Lan handed him the lantern before stepping into the room.
In the dim light, Qin Yuehan’s handsome features looked like a painting, his aloof face carrying an air of sharp, unapproachable dignity.
Jiang Lan stood at a distance, staring at the scene before her, momentarily at a loss for words.
“Wife.” Qin Yuehan broke the silence softly when Jiang Lan didn’t speak.
“Mm, sorry to have kept you waiting,” Jiang Lan replied, her voice gentle.
Perhaps it was the tenderness of the night that softened hearts. As Qin Yuehan watched Jiang Lan arrive through the twilight, his usually steadfast heart stirred with ripples.
The carved wooden bed in the room was large, yet somehow small.
Large enough for two to lie side by side without touching.
Small enough that even lying apart, they could feel each other’s warmth and hear each other’s soft breaths.
Jiang Lan lay on the outer side, her gaze fixed on the canopy above.
Suddenly, she recalled a joke from the real world: A man and woman sharing a bed, and the woman said that if the man crossed the boundary, he’d be a beast.
The next day, the woman slapped the man for not crossing the boundary, called him “worse than a beast,” and stormed off.
Thinking of this, Jiang Lan couldn’t help but smile wryly. She could clearly sense how tense Qin Yuehan was beside her—his body so rigid it made her feel weary.
“Afraid of me?” Jiang Lan asked.
Qin Yuehan stiffened at the question and, after a long pause, slowly replied, “No.”
Jiang Lan didn’t say more. She turned to face Qin Yuehan, reached out, and drew him into her embrace.”Sleep, I won’t do anything.” Jiang Lan spoke, gently patting Qin Yuehan’s back through the quilt with her palm.
Qin Yuehan was caught off guard by Jiang Lan’s sudden movement, losing his usual composure and could only passively let himself be pulled into her embrace.
However, even so, Jiang Lan had wrapped him in the quilt, so there was no direct physical contact between them.
In the dim candlelight, Qin Yuehan slightly lifted his gaze to look at Jiang Lan, but could only see a blurred outline and a pair of gentle eyes.
As their eyes met, Qin Yuehan flusteredly averted his gaze, his heart suddenly racing, pounding thunderously in his ears.
The next day, when Jiang Hongshi saw Qin Yuehan and Jiang Lan coming together to pay their respects, her face—still thickly powdered—revealed a deeply contented smile.
“That’s more like it, it should have been this way long ago.” Jiang Hongshi said to Qin Yuehan, his tone noticeably gentler.
Qin Yuehan was in the middle of bowing to Jiang Hongshi when he heard this; his half-bent body stiffened slightly, and a flicker of surprise flashed in his peach blossom eyes.
Jiang Lan, on the other hand, appeared completely unaware, though she placed a hand behind him, assuming a protective posture.
Jiang Hongshi felt no surprise at the change in Jiang Lan’s attitude toward Qin Yuehan.
After all, women are all the same under heaven—once this young couple truly moved into the same courtyard, it was only natural they would be as sweet as honey.
Although he had always harbored dissatisfaction toward Qin Yuehan, as long as it brought his daughter Jiang Lan contentment, he didn’t mind showing Qin Yuehan a bit of kindness.
“Tired? Here, take this—high-quality cosmetics. You’ve never liked dressing up before, but from now on, you should carry yourself more like a head husband.” Jiang Hongshi said with a tone of concern, noticing Qin Yuehan’s slightly uneasy expression, then glanced up to shoot Jiang Lan a reproachful look.
At these words, Qin Yuehan froze completely. He looked up at Jiang Lan, only to find her wearing an expression of complete understanding, and instantly realized what Jiang Hongshi’s act was all about.