Young Marshal Residence.
Downstairs in the living room.
Su Nuohan and Madam Fu were chatting happily in a warm and harmonious atmosphere. Su Nuohan spoke with wit and charm, often making Madam Fu laugh heartily until she leaned back in amusement.
During their conversation, Madam Fu gently patted the back of Su Nuohan’s hand and said earnestly, “Nuohan, Yan’er is your husband, the person closest to you. Always calling him ‘Young Marshal’ like that makes things too distant. From now on, you should call him ‘Chengyan’ or simply ‘husband.’”
Upon hearing this, a hint of hesitation appeared on Su Nuohan’s face. She murmured softly, “This… wouldn’t he be unhappy?”
“He dares?” Madam Fu immediately widened her eyes and glanced upward toward the second floor with feigned authority. “Listen to me.”
Su Nuohan obediently nodded. “Yes, Mother. This daughter-in-law understands.”
Only then did Madam Fu relax and smile again. “That’s right. You’re husband and wife—you’re meant to spend your whole lives together. You can’t become distant.”
After a pause, as if remembering something, she continued, “Oh right, I had the kitchen stew some ginseng soup for Yan’er. It should be ready by now. Why don’t you personally bring it to him in the study? You two can also talk.”
Her eyes were filled with expectation and encouragement.
Su Nuohan understood that her mother-in-law was creating an opportunity for the couple to spend time alone and grow closer. She sighed inwardly but still nodded obediently. “Alright, Mother.”
“Good, good!” Madam Fu said repeatedly, clearly satisfied. She immediately called out, “Zhang Ma—”
The kitchen maid quickly arrived, wiping her hands on her apron. “Madam, what are your orders?”
“Is the ginseng soup for the Young Master ready?”
“It’s ready, it’s been kept warm all along,” Zhang Ma replied with a smile.
“Good. Go and bring a bowl over. Let the Young Madam deliver it to the Young Master.”
“Yes, yes! I’ll go right away!” Zhang Ma hurried to the kitchen.
Soon, she returned carrying a red wooden tray. On it was a blue-and-white porcelain lidded bowl. Steam rose gently, and the faint aroma of ginseng soup filled the air.
“Young Madam, the soup is here. Please be careful, it’s hot,” Zhang Ma said as she carefully handed over the tray.
“Thank you for your trouble, Zhang Ma.” Su Nuohan smiled and accepted it.
Madam Fu continued warmly, “Go on. Let him drink it while it’s hot. If you’re free, stay in the study and keep him company.”
“Yes,” Su Nuohan replied.
She gave a slight curtsy to Madam Fu, then turned and walked gracefully toward the stairs.
When she reached the door of the study, she saw that it was slightly ajar.
Just as she was about to knock, she vaguely heard a low and urgent report from inside. She caught fragments of words—“Nine Dragons Society,” “movement,” and “dock.”
Su Nuohan paused immediately and held her breath, listening carefully.
However, the voices inside were extremely low and intermittent, making them hard to discern.
She did not dare move closer for fear of being discovered.
At that moment, she silently blamed the weakness of her current body. If it had been her former self, she could have heard everything clearly even from ten meters away.
She sighed inwardly and raised her hand to knock.
Just then, the reporting inside the study stopped. A moment later, footsteps approached the door.
Su Nuohan quickly stepped back half a pace and adjusted her expression, once again wearing a gentle, slightly shy smile, as though she had just arrived.
The study door opened from inside, and a young man in plain clothes walked out. Seeing her standing there with the tray, he froze for a moment, then immediately bowed. “Young Madam.”
“There’s no need to be so formal,” she replied softly with a polite nod.
The young man nodded back, then stepped aside. His gaze briefly met Fu Chengyan’s inside the room before he lowered his head and quickly left.
Su Nuohan carried the tray and stepped into the study.
The room was filled with a faint scent of ink and cigar smoke.
Fu Chengyan was not sitting behind his desk; instead, he was seated by the window near the door.
When he saw her enter, his deep gaze fell on the tray in her hands, then slowly shifted to her face. “Why did you come up here?”
She placed the tray gently on the coffee table and lifted the bowl. “Mother was worried about your health and specially had the kitchen prepare ginseng soup. She asked me to bring it to you.”
Fu Chengyan glanced at the soup. “Are all the people downstairs either sick or on leave that they had to send you?”
“Uh…” Su Nuohan felt a wave of speechlessness, but still smiled gently. “Mother said… she wanted me to keep you company.”
She then lifted the soup and handed it to him.
Fu Chengyan looked at her slender fingers and the steaming bowl, silent for a few seconds before slowly taking it.
When he did, his fingertips accidentally brushed against hers.
As if scalded, Su Nuohan quickly and reservedly withdrew her hand. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, making her look even more delicate and shy.
Fu Chengyan held the bowl but did not drink. Instead, he lightly tapped the rim with the lid, watching the steam blur his deep eyes.
After a moment, he suddenly spoke. “Qin Feng has already sent the fifty silver dollars to the Su family.”
She nodded gently. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he said, raising a brow as the lid made a soft tapping sound against the bowl. “As long as Madam doesn’t think it’s too little.”
Then he took a sip of the soup and fixed his sharp gaze on her face.
Su Nuohan shook her head with a smile. “No.”
Fu Chengyan said nothing more and continued drinking.
The study fell into complete silence, broken only by the sound of him sipping the soup.
After a brief awkward pause, Su Nuohan spoke again. “Earlier at the door, I heard you mention the Nine Dragons Society. Is it because—”
Before she could finish, Fu Chengyan stopped drinking. His expression turned dark instantly, and his eyes shot out a cold glare. “You actually dared to eavesdrop on our conversation?”
She was momentarily speechless and rolled her eyes at him internally. Taking a deep breath, she explained, “I just arrived at the door and happened to hear it by accident.”
Fu Chengyan let out a cold laugh. “By accident?”
“Then what else?” Her frustration flared at his tone and suspicion, nearly breaking her carefully maintained gentleness.
Fu Chengyan set the bowl down. The sound of the porcelain hitting the table was neither loud nor soft.
He leaned back slightly, his scrutinizing gaze like a cold probe, slowly examining her flushed face.
After a long moment, he finally spoke. “From now on, without my permission, do not step into this study even half a step.”
Hearing this, Su Nuohan immediately snapped.
“Don’t enter then I won’t!” she said coldly.
Without another word, she turned to leave.
But after only one step—
“Stop.”
Fu Chengyan’s voice came from behind her.
She paused, turned back, and asked coldly, “What else?”