Should she say yes or no?
Since Jiang Sheng had come up with a reason himself and offered her a way out, it would seem too pretentious if she didn’t take the opportunity to step down.
But this whole game of playing hard to get sounded rather improper.
Lin Yueming had been taught the boudoir precepts for years in the Lin Family and had upheld wifely virtue as a dignified wife for three years in the Lu Family. She was a girl from a respectable family, and girls from respectable families shouldn’t admit to such things.
But what use had the boudoir precepts and wifely virtue she had strictly adhered to ever been to her?
When she was sick and nearly dying in the manor, had those precepts and virtues brought her even half a piece of charcoal or half a bowl of medicine?
She refused to be a girl from a respectable family anymore!
Suppressing the shame brought by her inner conflict, Lin Yueming replied:
“Yes, do you like it, husband?”
Jiang Sheng held her even tighter, nuzzling his cheek against her neck:
“It seems I was the one who missed the hint. I already know what ‘rejection’ means. Now, wife, teach me what ‘acceptance’ is. It’s been too long since last night until now. I’m feeling uncomfortable. Help me.”
Lin Yueming finally found a chance to ask:
“Didn’t you take two maidservants? Why didn’t you have them help you just now?”
Jiang Sheng grabbed her hand and guided it into his clothing:
“I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d be upset. Those two maidservants of yours were very unruly. They tried to touch me, so I sent them away to your brother-in-law’s residence. The wedding gift he sent was valuable, so this makes for a fitting return gift.”
In just a few sentences, Lin Yueming felt as though she were listening to something utterly incomprehensible:
“You sent them to my sister?”
Lin Yueming’s half-sister had just gotten married last winter, barely three months into her newlywed life. Sending two beauties over was purely meant to stir trouble for the young couple.
Jiang Sheng pressed her against the desk, clinging tightly to her, breathing heavily:
“Since I never touched them, of course I could send them away. Since they were chosen by your mother, I’m sure your brother-in-law and sister will be pleased.”
As a military man, Jiang Sheng was naturally strong and sometimes didn’t know his own strength when carried away. Lin Yueming’s waist pressed against the desk, aching from his weight, her palm burning, and her wrist sore from his grip.
But he was in high spirits and had just suspected her of wanting to remain chaste for Lu Chen. She didn’t want to spoil his mood or provoke his suspicions again, so she endured it all.
After a while, Jiang Sheng groaned a few times, pressing her down onto the desk.
Jiang Sheng’s desk was made of solid, heavy wood, and even with the two of them pressed against it, it didn’t budge an inch.
Poor Lin Yueming felt as though her waist was about to break, and her hand had gone numb. Finding a bit of amusement in her suffering, she thought to herself that the Marquis of Wu’an’s heavy breathing actually sounded quite pleasant.
After another moment, Jiang Sheng seemed to have calmed down. He released her and stepped back, half-reclining in his chair, his eyes bright as he watched her, though his voice was hoarse:
“Come here.”
Lin Yueming’s waist and hand were both aching, and she was distressedly wiping the stains from her dress with a handkerchief. Hearing his words, she was startled and quickly said:
“We can’t. It’s already past the si hour. We should go pay respects to Madam and serve her tea.”
Jiang Sheng’s clothes were in disarray, and he sprawled openly before her without bothering to tidy up, watching her like a wolf eyeing its prey, ready to strike:
“That was just me earlier. It doesn’t count. Come here.”
How could someone with such a heroic and righteous face say such shameless things?
Lin Yueming’s mind drifted to the image of him last night, stripped of his clothing, bare-chested.
Broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, he looked strong and capable at first glance.
Looking closer, there was a certain wanton beauty to him.
Lin Yueming averted her eyes and replied:
“We can’t!”
Jiang Sheng wanted something, and he wouldn’t accept anyone telling him no. He added:
“So you want to do it on the table? That’s fine too.”
Outside came the voices of Bai Zhi and Nanny Cui talking, likely because Lady Jiang was up and had come to invite them.
A proper lady from a good family could not engage in such absurd acts as daytime dalliances with her husband.
Doing it in private was one thing; being seen was another.
If seen, it wouldn’t just affect her—it would reflect poorly on the Lin Family’s upbringing.
Minister Lin wasn’t very good at being an official, and his career had never gone smoothly.
The entire Lin Family now relied on the lingering influence of Old Master Lin to get by. The only thing of value left in the family was their surname. If this got out, Minister Lin might truly make her end her own life.
Lin Yueming urged Jiang Sheng, her tone even carrying a pleading note:
“I’m not refusing, we really can’t do this now. How about tonight? Please, hurry and put your clothes back on. What would the maids think if they saw you like this?”
Only then did Jiang Sheng leisurely straighten his disheveled clothes. Seeing her still trying to wipe away the clearly unremovable stain, he even had the nerve to make a sarcastic remark:
“Oh? Madam’s dress is dirty. What should we do?”
Lin Yueming was truly about to die of anger at him.
A proper lady from a good family also couldn’t go to meet people wearing a suspiciously stained skirt, especially on the second day of her marriage.
Last night, she had thought he was a reasonable, good man. Now it seemed they had simply been unfamiliar with each other then.
This Marquis of Wu’an was truly wicked. He had deliberately stained her skirt earlier.
Bai Zhi was already urging them outside the door:
“Marquis, Madam, the Lady has come to invite you.”
Lin Yueming hesitated. Which was more embarrassing: going in this stained skirt, or having Bai Zhi return to Suhui Hall to fetch another one?
Just as she was wavering, Jiang Sheng finally had a pang of conscience. He pushed open the inner door of the study and pointed out a way for her:
“Come pick a set.”
Against the wall in the inner room of the study were over a dozen trunks. Lin Yueming opened two and looked inside—they were all new clothes, everyday wear for a bride.
She casually took the topmost garment and held it up against herself. It was her size.
Jiang Sheng leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching her:
“Just this set? Not going to look at the others?”
Though Lin Yueming felt the question was a bit foolish, she was afraid of assuming too much if she didn’t ask. Using someone else’s things and causing trouble later would be awkward. So she asked:
“Were these all made for me?”
Not mentioning it after having them made would be the act of a great fool.
Jiang Sheng was no great fool.
Not only did he mention it, he explained in great detail:
“Of course. Ping’an specially went to Jiangnan to buy the fabric. I hired over a dozen embroiderers, worked according to your measurements, and they embroidered for several months straight, not even resting during the New Year. They barely managed to finish in time.”
As for why Jiang Sheng had her measurements, there was a reason for that.
Last summer, during Lady of Duke Qin’s birthday celebration, the Old Madam of the Lu Family had some distant kinship with the Duke Qin’s family, so an invitation was also sent to the Lu Family.
During a break in the banquet, Lin Yueming happened to encounter Third Lady of the Jiang Family—Jiang Sheng’s younger sister—who had gotten her skirt wet.
Having been the lady of the house for several years, Lin Yueming had encountered too many unexpected situations. To be prepared, it was her habit to bring a spare set of clothes when going out.
Seeing Third Lady of the Jiang Family in a panic, Lin Yueming lent her a set of clothes for the emergency.
Fearing that a young lady might struggle to explain changing clothes outside, she even accompanied Third Lady of the Jiang Family to see Lady Jiang, serving as a witness for her.
Later, Third Lady of the Jiang Family sent her a thank-you gift, but the clothes were never returned.
It was just a set of clothes, so Lin Yueming didn’t go to ask for them back.
Jiang Sheng left the inner room for her:
“I’ll go deal with Nanny Cui. Come out after you’ve changed. I like seeing you in new clothes.”
After spending a day together, Lin Yueming had begun to grasp the temperament and disposition of the Marquis of Wu'an.
It wasn’t that he liked seeing her in new clothes—he simply disliked her bringing anything from the Lu Family into his home.
The incense she used, the clothes she wore—anything she had used while with the Lu Family, he disliked.
Perhaps the earlier incident had brought them closer, as Lin Yueming felt less afraid of him now. A hint of annoyance crept into her tone:
“What I’m wearing today is new clothes. Why must you go out of your way to ruin a set for me, wasting things for no reason?”
When Lin Yueming was gentle and obedient, Jiang Sheng hadn’t seemed particularly pleased.
But now, with her showing a bit of temper, Jiang Sheng actually brightened:
“That’s how it should be. If you think something isn’t right, tell me so. That’s what makes me happy.”
Getting scolded and still being happy—what kind of temperament was that?
Would you be happy if I slapped you twice?
Of course, she couldn’t say that out loud. She could only think it.
A proper lady from a good family couldn’t hit people, at least not in front of others. She couldn’t even think about it, and if she did, she couldn’t let anyone know.
Lin Yueming didn’t argue with him verbally. Instead, she softened her tone:
“Do me a favor and keep Nanny Cui at bay. I need to change.”
In a cheerful mood, Jiang Sheng hummed a tune and closed the door.
As Lin Yueming changed her clothes, she did the math. Based on the timing of the Emperor’s arranged marriage, even if Ping’an had headed south of the Yangtze River as early as December, the round trip with these items would have been too short.
A faint unease settled in her heart, as if something didn’t quite add up.
Perhaps the Marquis of Wu'an had used other means.
As for the methods and channels used by the Emperor’s close minister, it was best not to delve too deeply.