Xie Shuhuai reached out and gently rubbed the red mark on Little Yun’s cheek, a ripple of distress welling in his eyes.
Soon after, a sharp chill crept over his gaze. “Uncle isn’t blaming you,” he assured her, his tone resolute. “You did well to hit back.”
Yuhe was taken aback. She had braced for Shuhuai to scold her for meddling, never expecting him to back her up instead. A quiet joy fluttered in her chest; for once, they were finally of the same mind.
After dinner that evening, Yuhe noticed Mrs. Cui in the kitchen frying flatbreads. Judging by the large bowl of batter, she was making far more than just one or two.
Yuhe felt puzzled. No one was embarking on a long journey…
A long journey.
A jolt of shock ran through her, making her heart pound wildly against her ribs.
She suddenly remembered: tomorrow was the thirteenth day of the fifth month—the day Xie Shuhuai was set to leave for the capital.
A violent shiver ran through her frame. In her past life, Shuhuai had nearly perished halfway through this very journey.
Knowing how deeply Shuhuai despised her, Yuhe realized she had no chance of convincing him to stay. If she dared speak the truth, no one would believe her anyway—they would simply think she had lost her mind. And Mrs. Cui, who deferred to her son in all major affairs, would never listen to her absurd warnings either.
Sitting in the west room, Yuhe listened as Mrs. Cui finished frying the flatbreads and latched the kitchen door.
Yet, she still couldn’t devise a single plan to stop Shuhuai.
She drifted off into an uneasy sleep, only for the gruesome vision of a blood-soaked Shuhuai to haunt her mind once more. No matter how desperately she screamed his name in the dream, he didn’t budge an inch.
She was terrified.
The suffocating terror in her nightmare jolted her awake. She sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. After changing into a dry tunic, she didn’t dare lie back down.
The scene in her dream was no mere phantom; it was precisely what Shuhuai had suffered in her previous life. Back then, she had been nothing more than a wandering soul floating behind him, utterly powerless to help. She could only watch in despair as Shuhuai exhausted his last drop of strength, collapsing to the earth mortally wounded.
In this life, now that Shuhuai was set to walk into that same deadly trap, how could she not be terrified?
As anxiety gnawed at her, the soft creak of the door across the courtyard in the east room broke the silence.
Shuhuai had already packed his travel bundle the night before, choosing not to wake Mrs. Cui.
Under the high, bright moon of the third watch, he quietly pulled his door shut and made to leave. Momo bounded over, happily wagging his tail. Shuhuai reached down to pat the dog’s head, stepping out into the yard under the pale moonlight.
As he reached the vegetable patch behind the house, his footsteps faltered. His eyes darkened, and he spoke in a low, cold voice, “Stop following me. Go back.”
Yuhe closed the distance between them in a few swift steps.
Her eyes glinted with unshed tears. “Xie Shuhuai, you’re going to the capital, aren’t you?”
A flicker of surprise crossed Shuhuai’s icy face, though it quickly dissolved back into cold detachment. Without offering a word of explanation, he shoved past Yuhe and kept walking.
Yuhe refused to yield, chasing after his retreating back. “You can’t go! Danger awaits you on this trip—it’s a death trap! There are other ways to resolve this!”
Her voice trembled with desperation. “Go see Master Chen at Yunxiang Academy! He is the son-in-law of Grand Tutor Lord Meng. Please… won’t you trust me just this once?”
Shuhuai spun around abruptly, seizing her wrist in a vice-like grip. “How do you know all this?” he demanded, his voice chillingly sharp. “Who on earth are you? What are you trying to do?”
Yuhe didn’t pull away. She raised her hand to wipe the tears from her face, fighting to maintain her composure. “I saw it in a dream.”
She looked directly into his eyes. “I married you at fourteen, and we consummated our marriage when I was fifteen. On our wedding night, I was so terrified that I bit you right on the nose. That night…”
Shuhuai’s expression turned fierce as he let out a low growl, “Enough!”
“Do you need me to prove it any further?” Yuhe pressed.
Suddenly, the night sky darkened as thick clouds swallowed the bright moonlight, leaving behind only faint, murky shadows.
Unwilling to entangle himself with her any longer, Shuhuai let go of her wrist and took off with long strides.
Without warning, Yuhe wrapped her arms tightly around his waist from behind. “I had a dream just now—a horrible dream,” she sobbed against his back. “Please don’t go. Consider it my begging you.”
Her voice cracked with raw heartbreak. “I know you hate me. But for the sake of our child… Please don’t go.”
The soft, warm touch of her body made Shuhuai’s frame tremble slightly, leaving him momentarily frozen in place.
Before long, Xie Shuhuai regained his senses and pried her hands open with force.
Yuhe threw her arms around him once more, clinging to his waist for dear life.
After several repeated attempts, Shuhuai finally lost his patience. He raised his hand to strike her pressure points, but Yuhe saw through the move and darted backward just in time to dodge him.
Taking advantage of the split second, Shuhuai used his martial agility to leap away. A few swift bounds later, his silhouette vanished down the dark trail.
Panic seized Yuhe’s heart. Crying out his name, she broke into a frantic run, but the path was pitch-black and blurred in the gloom.
Without warning, her foot caught on a stone.
She pitched forward, her forehead slamming heavily against a large tree trunk. Clutching her belly, she ignored the searing pain, scrambled back to her feet, and stumbled onward in pursuit.
Neglecting to watch her step, she tripped and tumbled down a second time.
Yet at the precise moment before she hit the hard ground, her body was swept up into the air, landing softly against Xie Shuhuai’s chest.
She reached up and tightly gripped the front of his robes. “Husband, please don’t go…”
All that desperate struggling had drained the last drop of Yuhe’s strength. Seeing Shuhuai return, relief finally washed over her; overwhelmed by sheer exhaustion and the release of tension, she passed out cold.
Right at that instant, torrential rain burst from the heavens, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder.
Shuhuai scooped Yuhe into his arms and hurried back toward the house.
Awakened by the thunder, Mrs. Cui had gotten out of bed and walked over to Shuhuai’s room, only to find it completely empty.
One moment, she had been worrying whether her son had reached the county town dock safely in such a downpour; the next, she saw him walking back through the rain, carrying Yuhe in his arms.
Both of them were soaked to the skin.
Mrs. Cui’s face turned deathly pale as a cry burst from her throat. “Shuhuai, what on earth happened?”
Without waiting to explain, Shuhuai carried Yuhe straight into her room.
Mrs. Cui lit an oil lamp and bustled in behind him. She called out Yuhe’s name several times, but the girl lay on the bed, entirely unresponsive.
Her heart sinking, Mrs. Cui deftly pulled a fresh dress down from the rack. “Shuhuai, step outside for a moment. Let me change her out of these wet clothes first.”
Shuhuai had barely stepped out when he heard his mother gasp in horror, “Merciful Heavens!”
He pivoted back into the room instantly, only to see faint streaks of blood staining the fabric between Yuhe’s thighs.
Mrs. Cui hurriedly pulled down the skirt, but before she could utter another word, Shuhuai turned on his heel. Without even changing out of his dripping clothes, he darted straight out of the courtyard into the night.
Mrs. Cui called out in distress, “Shuhuai, where are you going?”
He offered no reply, his silhouette rapidly vanishing into the driving rain.
Once he left, he remained gone for a long time. Still shaken, Mrs. Cui boiled hot water and gently washed Yuhe clean.
As the grey light of dawn broke over the horizon, Shuhuai returned, bringing Doctor Ji with him.
After carefully taking Yuhe’s pulse, the doctor spoke. “The child in Lady Lin’s womb is safe. Fortunately, her constitution is strong.”
Moving his gaze to the raw, broken skin on Yuhe’s forehead, he added with a firm warning, “Mind that she avoids any further bumps or falls in the future. She must be exceptionally cautious—no one gets this lucky every time. Furthermore, she must not overexert herself; let her rest and nurse her body at home for a while.”
When Yuhe finally opened her eyes, it was already noon.
Little Yun sat watching over her bedside, her small face filled with tender concern. “Auntie, you’re awake!” she chirped softly. “Does your forehead hurt? Let Yun’er blow on it for you.”
Yuhe felt momentarily dazed. She slowly sat up and looked through the half-open door, watching the heavy rain still falling outside before the events came flooding back to her.
Mrs. Cui walked in carrying a tray of food, setting it down on the small table by the bed. Her face was dark and displeased. “For the next half month, you are not to go anywhere. Stay home and rest properly.”
She huffed with an irritated sigh, “How long has it been since we had some peace? Ranting and throwing a fit just because Shuhuai was making a long journey—and not caring about the child in your belly!”
At the mention of the baby, Yuhe instinctively stroked her lower abdomen. Feeling that the child was still safe, she let out a long breath of relief.
She looked up at Mrs. Cui and pressed anxiously, “Mother, where is my husband?”