The Grain in Ear Festival was just around the corner, and summer was already making itself felt.
Even at night, there was a hint of heat in the air, and Sang Wu woke from the warmth.
A long, strong arm was wrapped around her, blocking the cool breeze that had been coming through the window. And with the natural heat of youth radiating from him, Sang Wu felt as though she were pressed against a living furnace.
Her body was still a little sore. She struggled to wriggle backward, finally managing to put a little distance between them.
Before she could even enjoy the relief, someone scooped her right back into his arms.
Sang Wu was instantly furious. She had assumed Chao Li was awake, but when she looked up, she found him still fast asleep.
Outside, dawn was just breaking. The sky hovered between darkness and daylight, and enough light had seeped into the room for Sang Wu to see him clearly.
Chao Li looked far less irritating in sleep than he usually did.
He was, in fact, extraordinarily handsome. His brows were dark and his eyes broad, his features bold and striking. His bone structure was superb—not overly sharp, nor excessively delicate, every line falling into just the right place. There was an indescribable air of nobility and aloofness about him.
He was, without question, a rare beauty of a man.
If he hadn’t been, Sang Wu would never have softened enough to take him in back then.
But looking at that face now, she found him utterly hateful.
Her gaze drifted downward, and she saw that the front of his robe had fallen open. His firm chest was covered in red marks, which she hadn’t been prepared to see.
Some of them had even broken the skin, stark against his cool, pale complexion.
They were unmistakably bite marks.
A flicker of guilt passed through Sang Wu’s eyes.
Then she remembered what had happened last night, and her anger returned.
She reached down and tried to pry the large hand wrapped around her waist away, but couldn’t budge it. Furious, she shoved at the man in front of her several times.
He didn’t move an inch.
Chao Li only looked slender at first glance. Beneath that lean frame was not merely an attractive layer of muscle, but an abundance of strength.
The weather was already growing hot. After struggling for only a few moments, a warm flush spread across Sang Wu’s pale cheeks. A few loose strands of hair fell over her forehead, setting off her luminous eyes. She looked like a beguiling crabapple blossom drunken with spring, the sort of beauty that made a person want to pluck it.
Sang Wu was a renowned beauty in Lu Commandery. Born with the delicate beauty of peach and plum blossoms, graceful and willowy, she had once been so sought after that the young men coming to ask for her hand had nearly worn down her family’s threshold.
Chao Li opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was this intoxicatingly beautiful sight.
“What is it?”
His voice was still low and husky. Seeing Sang Wu glaring furiously at him, he had no idea what he had done to provoke her this time.
But he was a young man in the prime of his life. After being rubbed against by Sang Wu in his arms first thing in the morning, his hand had already followed his instincts and slipped beneath her clothes.
“Smack!”
She swatted his arm.
It didn’t hurt Chao Li in the slightest, but if he didn’t placate her, Sang Wu’s tantrum would become far more troublesome than that little slap.
“Are you hungry?”
Sang Wu shook her head. “I’m hot. Let me go. I want to bathe.”
She was exquisitely beautiful, and even her voice was soft and sweet. Though she was clearly complaining, it sounded more like a spoiled plea.
Chao Li had never liked delicate, pampered women. He thought they were too fragile, like birds raised in cages—beautiful, but dull.
Sang Wu was different.
She was not merely pampered. She had a terrible temper too, making her even harder to keep than an ordinary caged bird.
While he was still silent, another kick landed on his thigh.
“What are you waiting for? Go heat the water.”
After last night’s excesses, Sang Wu’s temper had grown considerably bolder. She was no longer as timid as before and now ordered him around with perfect confidence.
Chao Li said nothing.
He simply caught the ankle that had kicked him and rolled over, bracing himself above her.
His gaze burned into hers, making no attempt to conceal his intentions. Those sharp, roguish eyes stared fixedly at Sang Wu, gathering a dangerous gleam.
Under that look, Sang Wu’s legs began to tremble.
She knew that look far too well.
Sure enough, Chao Li said slowly, “You’re going to wash anyway. Why not go a little later?”
“No. I want to wash now!”
Sang Wu immediately sensed danger and hurriedly added, “I don’t feel well. My waist hurts.”
Chao Li said nothing.
He seemed to know she was lying. He stared at her dangerously for a long moment, but in the end, he let her go.
He got up and went to heat the water.
Sang Wu breathed a sigh of relief.
Her waist really was a little sore. The moment she climbed into the bathing tub, she hurriedly drove Chao Li out.
He wasn’t offended. He simply went to the back courtyard, took a quick cold-water bath himself, then returned to light the stove and make breakfast.
The morning mist had lifted from the distant mountains. Birds called from the trees, and the lush green leaves of the mountain forests gleamed ever brighter beneath the sunlight, filling the summer landscape with vibrant life.
Once upon a time, seeing such a scene would have filled Chao Li with enthusiasm. He might have taken up his brush and painted it, or mounted his horse, drawn his bow, and ridden into the mountains to hunt—fine clothes, spirited horses, and carefree days.
But now, he skillfully carried the dishes to the table and went to call Sang Wu for breakfast.
After they ate, he had to go into the fields.
It was the busy farming season. Not even half a day’s work could be delayed.
If someone had told the heir of Huaiyang six months ago that one day he would end up living as a peasant in the countryside, he would have scoffed and ordered the fool spouting such nonsense thrown out of Huaiyang.
Yet now, he not only had to work the fields, he also had to wait on Sang Wu like a hired hand, tending to her every need.
His skill at farm work was practically that of a farmer with ten years’ experience.
Anyone who had known him before would have been left utterly dumbfounded at the sight.
The Heir of Huaiyang had been a pampered, exalted young master—the only son of the Prince of Huaiyang, born into the imperial aristocracy.
He had grown up surrounded by the finest food and every luxury, with servants in abundance. More than thirty maids and young footmen alone had attended to his daily needs in his own courtyard.
Everything from his clothes to his meals had been extravagantly provided.
Forget serving others—even if a piece of gold had fallen at his feet, he wouldn’t have spared it a glance.
But the world was unpredictable.
Several months ago, rebellion broke out in Huaiyang, and the Prince of Huaiyang was assassinated and killed.
The Great Zhou Dynasty was already teetering on the brink of collapse. A child emperor had ascended the throne, while Grand Preceptor Yuwen held the reins of government. The ruler was weak, the minister powerful, and imperial authority had fallen by the wayside.
To make matters worse, years of natural disasters had been followed by unrest throughout the various regions.
Commoners in many places had risen in rebellion, while powerful clans and local strongmen had proclaimed themselves kings and carved out territories of their own.
The rebellion in Huaiyang was simply one crisis too many for the court to deal with.
And so Chao Li’s situation had suddenly become perilous.
The heir who had once wielded enormous influence in Huaiyang was abruptly thrust into the center of the storm, becoming a fugitive hunted by all.
His former glory was gone.
He had no choice but to flee to this remote little commandery, conceal his identity, lower his head, and become a live-in son-in-law.
Many places beyond the mountains were in complete chaos. Here, however, the mountains were so remote that the people had managed to maintain a peaceful existence largely cut off from the outside world.
Sang Wu’s family was considered fairly well-off among ordinary households. Otherwise, they would never have had enough spare money to save Chao Li when he was badly injured.
Her family owned some farmland, accumulated over generations. Sang Wu was her parents’ only child, and unfortunately, both of them had died of illness at an early age.
She had suddenly become an orphan with no one to rely on.
Fortunately, she had a marriage arrangement that had been made when she was young.
Mu Feng, a hunter, had grown up with her. He was tall and handsome, poor though he was, but he had plenty of strength and adored Sang Wu. He had even been willing to marry into her family for her sake.
Sang Wu had been spoiled from childhood and had never known much hardship.
After marrying Mu Feng, she had lived an even easier life. Every household chore was managed neatly and efficiently, and she never had to trouble herself over any of it.
Unfortunately, they had been born into a chaotic age.
Mu Feng was conscripted by force and sent into the army.
He died on the battlefield.
Later, she met her second dead husband, Xie Yu.
He was a gifted scholar, handsome as a fine piece of jade, and unfailingly gentle and considerate toward her.
He helped her through the grief of losing her husband and, pitying her lonely circumstances, wanted to take care of her.
Unfortunately, he was physically frail.
Not long after they married, a bout of illness took his life.
Thinking of her first two husbands inevitably made Sang Wu melancholy.
Especially after tasting the food Chao Li had cooked, that melancholy reached its absolute peak.
Chao Li had been blessed with a beautiful face, but his cooking was indescribably awful.
They had been married for more than three months now. In every other skill, he had improved by leaps and bounds.
But when it came to cooking, he simply couldn’t seem to grasp the basics.
Her first two husbands had treated her so well. When had either of them ever made her eat food this terrible?
Seeing the expression of disgust on Sang Wu’s face, Chao Li immediately knew she was secretly thinking about those two short-lived ghosts again.
He couldn’t help giving a cold snort.
They had been nothing more than two country bumpkins. How could they possibly compare with him?
And yet she was still thinking about them like this.
Still, they were merely two dead men who had been inferior to him in every respect.
Chao Li magnanimously decided not to hold it against her.
He was the future Prince of Huaiyang, a scion of the imperial nobility, born to wealth and honor.
The food he cooked was something other people would beg to taste.
And yet Sang Wu actually dared to look at it with such disdain.
“Pampered.”
With that, Chao Li began eating on his own.
His movements were elegant. Though he wore shabby homespun clothing, the bearing of a nobleman remained unmistakable.
He took a leisurely sip of soup.
Then he suddenly froze.
His expression changed.
The vegetable soup looked perfectly fine, but the moment it touched his tongue, all he tasted was a harsh, salty bitterness. It was almost impossible to swallow.
Chao Li couldn’t understand it.
He had only added a little salt. How was it that the food was always either too salty or too bland?
In the past, everything he did had gone smoothly.
Yet when it came to cooking, he suffered defeat after defeat.
Still, he had made it himself.
So he forced himself to swallow.
Seeing this, Sang Wu deliberately imitated his earlier reaction and gave another emphatic snort.
But her voice was too soft and sweet, making it sound more like a coquettish little huff.
Chao Li glanced at her, then put down his bowl and chopsticks.
“Want some steamed egg custard?”
Steamed egg custard was the only thing Chao Li made that could be considered halfway decent.
Sang Wu nodded with dignity. “All right. I’m not picky.”
As she spoke, she pushed the bowl of soup, from which she had taken only one sip, toward him.
“I’ll eat the egg custard. You can have all of this. Don’t waste it.”
Sang Wu had always been very frugal in her daily life.
Chao Li’s face darkened, a muscle in his temple twitching.
He didn’t argue with her.
He simply turned around and went back into the kitchen.
After finally finishing breakfast and washing the dishes, Chao Li could at last begin the real work of the day.
He put on a straw hat and went to the back courtyard. Opening the door to the livestock shed, he led out the big yellow ox.
His movements were so practiced that it was almost painful to watch.
Seeing him, Sang Wu hurried over beneath the shade of the eaves and trees, carrying a water flask filled to the brim.
She handed it to him dutifully and said gently, “You need to hurry with the work in the fields. Don’t come back at noon. I’ll bring your lunch to you.”
At that, Chao Li looked up at the blazing sun overhead.
For some reason, he felt that in Sang Wu’s eyes, he might not be a person at all.
He might as well be another ox.
When he saw his expression turn cold again, Sang Wu knew he was thinking of slacking off.
When it came to farming, Chao Li was far, far inferior to her first dead husband.
Sang Wu couldn’t help finding his clumsiness a little irritating.
She was somewhat intimidated by his cold expression, but she still steeled herself and advised him, “You’re already slower at working than other people. If you come home to rest at noon, you’ll miss the proper farming season.”
Although Sang Wu didn’t work the fields herself, farmland was the foundation of survival, and she knew the basic principles well enough.
Besides, she felt that Chao Li had far too much strength to spare every day.
If he was going to spend it somewhere, he might as well spend more of it working in the fields instead of using it on her.
Chao Li saw straight through her.
She looked gentle and honest, but in reality, she had a rather black heart.
When it came to ordering him around, she showed absolutely no mercy and never spared a thought for whether he was tired.
“I know.”
He had just turned to leave when she called him back.
“Wait.”
Although Chao Li’s expression remained cold, his heart had already begun to speculate.
Had she finally remembered to show him a little concern?
At least she still had some conscience.
He kept those thoughts to himself, maintaining the same stern expression on his face.
“What is it?”
Sang Wu pointed at the big yellow ox and earnestly reminded him, “Don’t forget to take Da Huang to the river for some water first. The sun is so fierce. Let him roll around in the water to cool off before you start. Don’t let him get overheated. All those fields are depending on him.”
The moment she finished speaking, Chao Li’s face turned black.
He led the ox away in silence.
Da Huang this, Da Huang that.
That was all she ever cared about—Da Huang!
He was apparently worth less to her than an ox.
Sang Wu had no idea what had gotten into Chao Li again. But she considered herself a few years older than him and had no intention of indulging his young-master temper.
By Sang Wu’s standards for choosing a husband, Chao Li fell far short of her expectations.
When it came to gentleness and consideration, he couldn’t compare to her second husband.
When it came to working hard and supporting the household, he couldn’t compare to her first.
All he really had was an exceptionally handsome face.
But a pretty face alone wasn’t enough to change Sang Wu’s mind.
After all, her first two husbands hadn’t exactly been bad-looking either.
The reason she had married Chao Li in the first place was simply because—
Sang Wu had made one mistake.