Is she raising me like a kept man?
Li Miaomiao placed the two hens under a turned-over basket, then submerged the pig offal in a bucket of salted well water, planning to clean it first thing in the morning. She went into the kitchen, minced a piece of lean meat, and mixed it with scallions, ginger, and egg. Fearing Xiao Xian wouldn’t have enough to eat, she kneaded some dough, hand-cut noodles, and boiled the lot together.
She carried his bowl into the room and had just turned to leave when Xiao Xian’s cold, detached voice drifted across the room.
“Is it entertaining to raise me like a kept man?”
A kept man?
Li Miaomiao’s eye twitched. She spun around, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “I’m not treating you like a kept man. We’re married, which makes you my husband. My money is your money—you spend it if you want to. What is the problem?”
“I don’t need your pity.”
His voice was icy, sharp enough to draw blood. Li Miaomiao simply couldn’t decipher him. Why was he so incredibly obstinate? There were only the two of them in this house—no ghosts, no external threats—yet he seemed determined to self-destruct from the inside out.
She let out a long, grounding breath, trying her best to remain patient. “Xiao Xian, what exactly are you battling against?”
The question seemed to pierce his armor. He snapped his head up, glaring at her with eyes as dark as an abyss.
“Get out.”
Seeing his knuckles white from how hard he was clenching his fists, as if struggling to contain some inner tempest, Li Miaomiao’s gaze cooled. Her own patience began to fray. “Xiao Xian, I was the one who pursued you—I acknowledge that. I said I wanted us to get along. A few days ago, you told me not to provoke you, and I honored that.”
“But if you’re going to throw these inexplicable tantrums over and over again, then I’m going to—”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She turned on her heel and stomped out.
Silence descended upon the room. Xiao Xian’s fingers gripped the edge of the bed until they turned pale. He lowered his head, a self-deprecating, utterly desolate smile tugging at his lips.
She didn’t even have the courage to finish her sentence before running away. Then again, why would anyone care about a cripple?
The next moment, the door creaked. Li Miaomiao returned, a bowl in one hand and a small stool in the other. She dropped the stool on the floor, sat down, and took a loud, deliberate slurp of her noodles.
After swallowing, she turned and offered him a saccharine, mocking smile. “You hate me, right? Well, from now on, I’m coming to your room every single day to eat. I’ll make you so mad you’ll regret ever being born.”
It was a childish tactic, perhaps, but when dealing with someone as perverse and erratic as Xiao Xian, extreme measures were necessary.
Xiao Xian’s eyelid twitched; a flare of genuine irritation ignited in his chest. As he listened to the exaggerated slurping, he seriously considered throwing her out the window.
Li Miaomiao took another two loud bites. Hearing no protest from behind her, she simply turned her stool around so she was facing him directly while she ate.
Watching her brazenly consume her meal right in front of him, Xiao Xian felt the veins in his temples pulse. He gripped a stone in his hand, his fingers twitching with the urge to launch it.
“Get out.”
His voice was frigid, dripping with undisguised malice. Seeing his face turn cold and the murderous intent in his eyes intensify, Li Miaomiao didn’t retreat—she leaned in. She took an even larger, louder slurp of noodles, the sound echoing as if she hadn’t eaten in a lifetime.
Once she swallowed, she grinned. “You seem very angry? But it’s fine, isn’t it? You spend all day cooped up in this room drowning in your own bitterness—surely you’re not about to be aggravated to death by me?”
With that, she went right back to slurping her noodles.
Xiao Xian stared fixedly at the top of her head. In his palm, the stone he had been clutching was slowly, steadily being ground into fine dust.
There was no sound in the room except for the persistent, rhythmic slurping of Li Miaomiao’s noodles. When she finished the last bite, she looked up to find him staring at her with predatory focus. She simply widened her mouth into a bright, cheerful grin.
“That was a delicious bowl of noodles.”
With a final chirp, she carried the bowl and chopsticks out of the room. The moment she crossed the threshold, a loud crashing sound erupted behind her.
She turned back to see that the small stool Xiao Xian usually sat on had been smashed to pieces. He held a splintered hunk of wood in his hand, his deep, hollow eyes fixed on her like a hunting wolf—cold and predatory.
He looks so sickly and frail, yet he shattered the stool with his bare hands?
Li Miaomiao knew exactly how grating her slurping must have been; she also knew that destroying the stool was his way of reasserting dominance. She lowered her gaze, walked back into the room, and began picking up the debris. When she looked up, her eyes were curved into a clear, bright, and utterly unbothered smile.
“That stool was falling apart anyway; it was definitely time for a replacement.”
The radiance of her smile was an eyesore to Xiao Xian. He mocked her, “Much like replacing a person, wouldn’t you say?”
At the mention of that—the wedding and the original owner’s betrayal—Li Miaomiao fell silent. She knew she was in the wrong, and the guilt weighed on her. She gathered the wood scraps and retreated to the kitchen.
After tossing the wood onto the kindling pile, she let out a long breath and rubbed her cheeks. “Slurping those noodles really made my jaw ache.”
The mere thought of Xiao Xian bringing up the wedding day made her want to storm over to the Lin household and give Lin Dalang a piece of her mind. If it weren’t for that scumbag’s deceitful behavior, the original owner wouldn’t have ended up in this position, and she wouldn’t have ended up married to a man who looked approachable but was actually a perverse, erratic recluse.
She had been transmigrated only to suffer.
A few miles away, Lin Dalang couldn’t stop sneezing.
Li Xiaorou had just finished washing his tunic—which had been fouled by the stench of pig offal—and hung it out to dry. Seeing him sneeze incessantly, she felt a pang of concern. “My dear, whatever is the matter?”
“Achoo!” Lin Dalang covered his mouth, unable to hold back another. “I don’t know.”
The air in the room grew thick with the smell of his saliva, and Li Xiaorou discreetly pressed a handkerchief to her nose while maintaining her tone of doting concern. “Lin-lang, ever since we ran into Li Miaomiao on the road, nothing has gone right. She must have rubbed her bad luck off on you. Tomorrow, I’m going to find her and have a proper word.”
Upon hearing that she intended to seek out Li Miaomiao, Lin Dalang let out two more massive sneezes and hurriedly stopped her. “Don’t go to her. Not yet.”
“Lin-lang, are you… still attached to her?” Li Xiaorou’s voice was gentle, edged with a sliver of hurt.
Lin Dalang immediately pulled her into his arms, coaxing her. “Don’t be ridiculous. How could I ever have feelings for a woman as ugly and venomous as her?”
“Then why won’t you let me see her?”
Hearing Lin Dalang insult Li Miaomiao filled Li Xiaorou with glee, though she kept her expression perfectly demure and understanding. Watching his wife’s sweet obedience, Lin Dalang wanted to tell her the truth, but remembered Guo Ce’s strict warning to keep his affairs secret. He hugged her tighter.
“That ugly woman chopped down Auntie Pang’s tree the other day. I’m just looking out for you—I’m terrified that if you go over there alone, she might use that blade of hers to hurt you.”
Knowing he was concerned for her safety, Li Xiaorou felt a rush of vanity. She couldn’t wait to flaunt it in front of Li Miaomiao. “Lin-lang, you really are so thoughtful of me.”
Lin Dalang held the delicate creature in his arms, feeling smug. “Xiaorou, soon, I’ll take you to live in the city.”
“The city?” Li Xiaorou looked up in astonishment, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Lin-lang, in the past, my sister was always bragging about her family’s status in the city. I only had a fat mother, and while she had everything, I had nothing.”
Seeing her looking so frail and helpless, Lin Dalang felt a surge of possessive affection. He recalled how pitiful and captivating she had seemed the first time they met. “Don’t you worry, my dear. Li Miaomiao is destined to spend the rest of her life living with that cripple, Xiao Xian. Everything she has—and everything she doesn’t have—I will ensure belongs to you in the future.”
The moving promise made Li Xiaorou cry tears of joy. “Lin-lang, you are just too good to me.”
Under her breath, she added silently: Everything Li Miaomiao has… I will steal it all away.