No woman had ever bathed in this military tent before. Li Suyu usually only washed briefly, but Yan Hui was accustomed to refinement. Looking at the steaming water in the bath barrel, she frowned. Without Suiqiu by her side, though she was not one to fuss, she still felt uneasy.
Li Suyu sat at the edge of the bed, glancing at the screen. The light behind it was dim; he wondered if she could see clearly, or if she would disdain such a crude place. He thought of her lodgings at the post station and the tavern—her food, clothing, and daily use were all of the finest quality. Remembering this, his brows furrowed.
Then came the faint sound of trickling water from behind the screen.
Li Suyu felt an inexplicable discomfort, unwilling to imagine what scene lay beyond.
The half-moon hung in the sky, silver-gray light spilling across the camp. The autumn wind stirred, and the tents rustled noisily.
Yan Hui stepped out from behind the screen, her hair half-dry. Seeing that Li Suyu was no longer there, she looked around the tent, which bore all the marks of long male habitation. She wondered how long she would have to stay here.
Elsewhere—
“Second Brother, why are you squeezing into my place? Mine is much smaller than yours!” Zhao Chi pitifully hugged a thin quilt, glaring at the man who had taken over his bed. He continued, dissatisfied: “With such a beauty as Sister-in-law, and you’re unmoved? Second Brother, are you incapable?”
A straw pillow flew at Zhao Chi. Quick as lightning, he caught it, then grinned cheekily: “I understand, I understand. Second Brother’s wounds are fierce—just not up to it these days.”
“Get out!”
Zhao Chi chuckled awkwardly, clutching the pillow and quilt as he left. Suddenly remembering something, he poked his head back through the curtain: “Second Brother, I forgot to mention—Sister-in-law knows Master Chu. They seem quite familiar. Just now, I saw them together out on the western Gobi.”
Li Suyu froze slightly.
Zhao Chi quickly withdrew his head. Surely it was fine to tell his brother this—after all, knowing his brother’s character, he wouldn’t report Sister-in-law’s affairs to Grandmother.
The tent was silent except for the wind outside. Li Suyu bent his arm beneath his head, a faint softness flickering in his dark eyes. Thinking of Yan Hui’s words, it was impossible to say he wasn’t shaken.
She understood everything. She knew it all. And because she understood, she willingly came to the northern frontier as a discarded piece, marrying him. He also knew that the Wang family sending Yan Hui here was not entirely their own decision. That was why he had not directed his anger at her.
“Yan Hui.” He savored the name slowly, then gave a low laugh, closing his eyes.
Autumn in the northern frontier was especially dry and cold. Even at midday, there was a chill in the air.
Yan Hui was awakened by the sounds of military drills. After tidying herself simply, she stepped out of the tent.
“Sister-in-law.” Zhao Chi seemed to have been waiting. He came forward: “Second Brother went to my tent last night. No one was watching him. He developed a fever, and this morning I found it was quite serious.”
Yan Hui’s face froze. Thinking of the strong winds last night, he must have strained his wound when leaving, leading to infection and fever.
“How is he now?” Yan Hui’s expression returned to calm.
“Master Chu has already examined him. He’s still unconscious.” Zhao Chi’s face was troubled. “If I had shared my bed with Second Brother last night, I would have noticed sooner, instead of discovering this morning that he was burning with fever and insensible.”
Yan Hui felt a pang of guilt. That man had told her to stay in the tent, yet he himself had slipped away, ending up like this. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
Seeing her troubled look, Zhao Chi quickly said: “It’s not Sister-in-law’s fault. It’s all Second Brother’s. He refused to stay with you and insisted on squeezing into my cramped quarters.”
“I’ll go see him.” Yan Hui entered Zhao Chi’s tent. Jiang Yun was already there, standing beside Chu Yan, watching as he treated Li Suyu’s wound.
Yan Hui stepped closer and saw that the half-bare man’s face was even paler than the night before, his lips cracked and dry. His chest was already wrapped in fresh gauze, just bandaged, while another wound—the one from their wedding night—was being treated by Chu Yan. Its edges had festered and turned white.
Yan Hui frowned. It seemed that after that day at the medical hall, this man had not properly tended to his injury.
The tent was quiet until Chu Yan finished sprinkling medicine powder over the wound and bandaging it. Perhaps he had been too focused on Li Suyu’s condition, for only when he rose did he notice Yan Hui’s presence.
“Now is the time when Suyu most needs care. His condition is temporarily stabilized, but he cannot be left alone for even a moment,” Chu Yan said, then turned to Zhao Chi. “Arrange for the medicine to be prepared.”
“Yes.” Zhao Chi answered and left the tent.
“He… is not in grave danger, is he?” Yan Hui asked, her heart uneasy though her face remained calm.
“He’ll be fine. Misfortune survived often brings blessings,” Chu Yan replied, casting a shadowed glance at Yan Hui before walking out.
Yan Hui raised her brows. Was that a warning?
Jiang Yun spoke with mocking tone: “It seems Suyu would rather squeeze in with Zhao Chi than share a bed with his new wife.”
When Yan Hui’s gaze fell on her, Jiang Yun’s lips curved into a smile before she too departed.
The tent grew quiet again.
Yan Hui approached the bed, her eyes resting on the sleeping man’s face. She truly could not understand him. She sat down on the stool Chu Yan had just vacated, her heart growing more anxious. She wondered how things were going with Suiqiu.
At that moment, footsteps sounded behind her.
“Sister-in-law, I should move Second Brother back to his own tent. It’s inconvenient for you here,” Zhao Chi said.
Yan Hui rose and instructed: “Then be careful not to pull at his wound.”
“I’ll be mindful.”
Two soldiers carefully lifted Li Suyu from the bed onto a stretcher.
Perhaps the slight jostling roused him, for when he was set down on his own bed, he let out a faint groan.
“The General is awake!” one of the soldiers exclaimed in delight.
Zhao Chi hurried forward, his dark eyes lighting up. “Second Brother, you worried me to death. Do you feel unwell anywhere?”
“Dizzy.” Li Suyu’s voice was hoarse and weak, as though forced from his throat.
“I’ll fetch the medicine at once,” Zhao Chi said, signaling to the soldiers before rushing out.
Silence fell again. Li Suyu’s eyelids felt unbearably heavy, yet in his vision appeared a graceful figure, drawing closer.
“General, you did not marry the one you wished for, but that is no reason to risk your life. If you had only said so, I could have slept on the ground,” Yan Hui raised her brows, baffled by this man—last night he had spoken those words, yet avoided her.
Li Suyu, half-dazed, listened to her helpless words by his ear and murmured weakly: “Nonsense.”
“Then why did the General go to Zhao Chi’s tent? Why avoid me? Afraid I might devour you?” Yan Hui’s lips curved mischievously. “We are husband and wife in name and right. Even if I wished to do something, would the General still keep himself pure for another woman?”
The man, whose eyelids had been heavy, suddenly opened his peach blossom eyes wide at her words, gritting out: “Reckless talk.”
Yan Hui smiled. “Rest assured, General. I have no desire to touch a man whose heart belongs to someone else.”
In truth, Yan Hui could understand Li Suyu’s state of mind. For years, he had known who his fiancée was, had seen her portrait, perhaps even exchanged letters in secret. His feelings were clear. Though her cousin never spoke of her distant fiancé in the northern frontier, from her uncle’s words, it was evident that the Wang family was very satisfied with the Li family’s second son.
Through her time observing him, Yan Hui realized Li Suyu had neither concubines nor other women. Even with Jiang Yun watching him like a hawk, he paid her no attention. From what she overheard at the medical hall, she understood that Li Suyu had long intended to spend his life with her cousin and would not take another woman. Now that she had married into the Li family, it was natural that he found it hard to accept. That he did not vent his anger on her showed he was a gentleman.
Yet Yan Hui’s words pierced his ears. He knew then that she had heard and remembered what he said that day. He slowly closed his eyes, his mind muddled, restless and irritable.
To Yan Hui, his silence was tacit acknowledgment. She raised her brows slightly, her uncertainty easing. She thought it was better to speak plainly. But now the matter was settled—her identity was an eyesore. Truly, her cousin was not a bad match.
At that moment, Yan Hui felt like a wicked woman—she had stolen her sister’s husband.
Zhao Chi approached, breaking the heavy silence between them.
Yan Hui turned her head, saw him carrying medicine, and reached out: “I’ll do it.”
“Out!” Even in weakness, his voice carried coldness.
Yan Hui’s hand holding the bowl stiffened.
“Alright, I’ll leave at once,” Zhao Chi said, thinking the words were meant for him.
“She leaves!” With the last of his strength, Li Suyu spoke those three words, tinged with faint anger.
Zhao Chi froze, glancing at his frail brother on the bed, then at Yan Hui’s calm expression.
The medicine bowl slipped back into his hands.
Zhao Chi opened his mouth, but Yan Hui was already walking out of the tent. He was torn—whether to go or stay—but finally sighed heavily, sat by the bed, and asked: “Second Brother, what’s wrong with you?”
Li Suyu slowly opened his eyes, his gaze sharp beneath his sword-like brows, but he gave no reply.
Holding the spoon, Zhao Chi said: “I’m a rough man, not as delicate as Sister-in-law. She takes good care of you.”
But Li Suyu’s mind was full of her words. Did that woman enjoy guessing at others’ hearts? Or was she simply too self-assured?
“Second Brother, you should change your temper. Sister-in-law may have lived under others’ roof in the Wang family, but she was raised in comfort. Coming to the northern frontier, she must feel many grievances. You are the only one she can rely on. If you treat her like this, how can she endure in the future?” Zhao Chi said, lifting the spoonful of medicine to his brother’s lips.
Li Suyu fixed him with a cold stare, his voice hoarse: “Do I need you to teach me how to treat her?”
“Well then…” Zhao Chi chuckled. “I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on.”
Li Suyu cast him a sidelong glance.
Zhao Chi laughed lightly and began feeding him the medicine.
By early afternoon, the last warmth had faded, leaving only the biting autumn wind.
When Suiqiu arrived at the camp, Yan Hui was sitting alone on a quiet patch of sand, the cold wind lashing her face.
“Miss!” Suiqiu called.
Yan Hui turned her gaze, watching Suiqiu run toward her, her lips curving into a faint smile.
“Miss, why are you sitting here? The wind and sand are so fierce.” Suiqiu hurried forward, brushing the disheveled strands of hair from Yan Hui’s face.
Yan Hui lifted her hand, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear, and said, “I was waiting for you. I was worried.”
Suiqiu smiled as she helped Yan Hui to her feet. Seeing her mistress’s complexion was not quite right, she nonetheless spoke first of matters concerning Suiyue: “Suiyue had originally planned to come, but considering your current identity, she stayed in Yuncheng. I’ve told her everything you instructed, and also—there’s a letter from the young master for you.”
After rising, Yan Hui felt her breathing grow difficult. She drew in a sharp breath. She accepted the envelope, her lips curving faintly upward.
Opening it, she read: Elder Sister, you’ve been away from Uncle’s household for nearly three months. I don’t know if, when Suiyue delivers this letter, it will be late autumn or winter. Father often said that eight or nine parts of life are filled with disappointment. After Father and Mother passed, I thought to shoulder Father’s duty and care for you. But my strength is too small, and I’ve let you suffer grievances. I don’t know whether the Li family’s second son is a good man or not, but in the northern frontier, you must take care of yourself. Whether ten years or twenty, I will one day bring you back to Yunzhou.’
—Do not worry, Yan Shi.
Yan Hui folded the letter neatly, placed it back in the envelope, and handed it to Suiqiu: “Keep it safe.”
“Miss, why did you come here alone? If Brother Song’s men hadn’t noticed you heading this way, I wouldn’t have known where to find you,” Suiqiu said anxiously.
Yan Hui glanced at her and smiled lightly: “Brother Song? The young officer who escorted you back to the city yesterday?”
Suiqiu nodded.
Yan Hui felt her head grow faintly dizzy, thinking it must be from standing too long in the wind. Her voice carried a trace of weakness: “It’s nothing. I don’t know anyone here, so I just walked a bit. Truly a land of hardship—the wind and sand sting so sharply.”
Suiqiu looked at her closely, her pupils contracting: “Miss, your face—it’s so pale!”
Yan Hui frowned, then her vision blurred, the world spinning around her.
Suiqiu cried out in alarm: “Miss!”
“Miss!” she shouted again. “Someone, help! Help!”
Inside the tent.
Already gravely wounded, Li Suyu was forced to sit at the desk where he usually handled affairs, his expression indifferent, eyelids lowered.
“Unaccustomed to the climate. The northern frontier is unlike Bianjing, and these past days have been too dry,” Chu Yan said, withdrawing his hand after taking Yan Hui’s pulse. “Coupled with weak blood and energy, fainting is normal.”
But in Li Suyu’s ears, the words carried another meaning: Yan Hui could not adapt to the northern frontier. Remembering her saying this land was bitterly cold, his gaze grew colder still. Indeed, how could a delicate body like hers endure such a place?
“A few doses of medicine will suffice. Nothing serious,” Chu Yan told Suiqiu.
“Thank you, Master Chu.” Suiqiu was near tears. “It’s fortunate you were here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known what to do.”
At her words, Chu Yan glanced toward Li Suyu’s frosty, indifferent face.
“I’ll go prepare the herbs,” Chu Yan said, nodding to Li Suyu before leaving the tent.
Suiqiu, worried for Yan Hui yet reluctant to trouble Chu Yan further, thought that with her mistress here, Li Suyu would not harm her. She turned and left the tent.
Silence settled. From the bed came the rustle of movement.
Li Suyu tried to rise but remained seated. His gaze swept toward the bedside, where he saw a pair of pale, delicate feet slip down. As if sensing his eyes, their owner quickly hid them beneath her skirt.
Yan Hui looked toward him, her tone carrying apology: “I’ve troubled the General.”