As she pondered these thoughts, she kept her ears pricked for any movement in the room. She heard the soft clink of chopsticks against the bowl and the faint, rhythmic sound of noodles being slurped, followed finally by the crisp clack of the chopsticks being set down.
Without waiting for Xiao Xian to call her, she walked in. She took the bowl from him and saw that it was completely clean—not a single scallion scrap left. A faint, sweet smile tugged at her lips.
She smoothed her expression and looked at the man. “How did it taste?”
Seeing the flicker of expectation in her eyes, Xiao Xian wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, his voice cool and indifferent as he uttered two words:
“Edible.”
Li Miaomiao: “…”
I’m just asking for a snub, aren’t I? I’m not asking again.
She took the bowl and the lamp, turning to leave. Just as she was about to step out the door, his cold, distant voice reached her from behind.
“Sleep in the other room from now on.”
Li Miaomiao paused. Last night, the original owner had hogged the bedroom, leaving him to spend the night on a bench in the main hall. If the original owner hadn’t pulled that stunt earlier, Xiao Xian probably would have been willing to live a peaceful life with her, wouldn’t he?
She replied, “Understood.”
After cleaning up the kitchen, she headed to the room next to Xiao Xian’s and gave the door a gentle push.
Creeeeak.
A smell hit her like a physical blow—an odor so pungent it felt like a hundred pairs of unwashed feet crammed into a tiny room during the sweltering heat of August. She felt her stomach churn, clamped a hand over her mouth, and raised the lamp to get a look.
The room was filthy, cluttered, and stifling. The bedding by the bed was a chaotic pile of rags; calling it a small landfill would have been an understatement.
How on earth did those two servants manage to sleep in here?
Xiao Xian had previously kept two servants, but the original owner had chased them off the day before, claiming they had no money to pay them.
She turned around, let out a long, shuddering breath, then took a deep gulp of fresh air before holding her breath and diving back inside.
Half an hour later, the room was finally tidy. She shoved the stench-ridden bedding into a wooden tub outside the kitchen, stepping back to stare at the pile in despair. Even though the room was clean, the smell of sweat would likely linger for days unless she kept it ventilated.
Forget it. Just grit your teeth and bear it.
She went to the first room on the left, opened her small wooden trunk, and sighed at the meager contents. Apart from those eight “dowry” chests, the Li family hadn’t provided a single thing. And of course, the chests were filled with nothing but rocks.
All she had were ten copper coins and a set of everyday clothes that had been washed until they were faded. She took out the clothes, locked the empty trunk inside one of the dowry chests, and headed back to the kitchen.
She blew out the lamp, fetched a basin of cold water, and closed the door to wash up. The water in March was bone-chillingly cold. Li Miaomiao gritted her teeth, wrung out the cloth, and gave herself a quick wipe-down.
Shivering, she lit the lamp again and retreated to her room. The bed was nothing but a layer of sweat-soaked hay. She took one sniff and felt as though she might suffocate. She tossed and turned on the hay, unable to sleep.
In the middle of the night, she suddenly bolted upright, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I can’t take this anymore!”
Xiao Xian’s senses were incredibly sharp. Separated by only a thin wall, he could hear everything going on in the next room. He lay on his bed like a corpse, listening to the incessant rustling.
His eyes, which had been fixed on the tattered mosquito net for hours without a blink, finally shifted.
Is she a rodent?
A moment later, footsteps sounded outside, slowly approaching his door. He looked down toward the entrance just as a knock echoed through the room.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
“Xiao Xian, are you awake?”
His soft, peach-blossom eyes were filled with gloom, his pupils dark as a black whirlpool. He looked entirely devoid of life. He stared silently at the door, offering no answer.
The night wind in the Northwest howled, sounding like blades lined with frost, scraping against the skin until it stung. Li Miaomiao rubbed her face, waiting, but the room remained deathly silent.
She muttered to herself, “He must be asleep.”
With that, she gently pushed the door open and crept inside on tiptoe. “Sorry for the disturbance.” Like a thief, she shut the door with extreme caution, terrified of waking the man on the bed.
Outside, a dark cloud drifted over the moon, plunging the room into total darkness. But Xiao Xian’s vision was impeccable; he watched Li Miaomiao move like an upright rabbit, hands and feet moving in awkward, mismatched rhythm as she made her way to the bed. He caught sight of her rough, thin hand resting on the bed frame, and a wave of raw hostility surged within him.
Li Miaomiao, unaware that her hand was being scrutinized, saw nothing in the pitch-black room. Perhaps it was because the stench of the previous room had dulled her senses, but she caught a faint, clean scent of soap lingering in this one. She felt her way along the edge of the thin quilt hanging off the bed, tracing it up to the headboard. She leaned over, her voice soft and crisp.
“Xiao Xian, the sweat odor in the next room is just too overwhelming. I’ll borrow this space for a few nights. As soon as my bedding dries, I’ll head back on my own.”
In the dark, their breathing—his steady and controlled, hers slightly hurried—intertwined. There was nothing romantic about the air between them.
“I’ll take your silence as consent, then.”
Her warm breath drifted toward his ear, but Xiao Xian remained completely unmoved. Li Miaomiao waited a moment longer before kicking off her shoes and climbing up. Since Xiao Xian was sleeping on the outer edge, she had to crawl over him to get to the inner side. She hunched over, her upper body suspended above him. With her hands already on the inner side of the bed and her feet still dangling on the edge, she prepared to swing her legs over.
A cold, mocking voice cut through the darkness.
“Fond of crawling into beds, are you?”
Li Miaomiao’s body stiffened. She turned her head toward Xiao Xian. Although she couldn’t see a thing, she wasn’t deaf; the biting sarcasm was unmistakable. This man had clearly heard her explain about the foul odor in the other room, yet he still chose to mock her. It seemed a harmonious coexistence was out of the question.
If that was the case, she saw no reason to keep up appearances.
She curled her lips into a smirk. “Crawling into my own husband’s bed is only natural.”
As soon as she finished, the temperature in the room seemed to drop sharply. Let him be angry, she thought. I’m sleeping regardless. She swung her legs over, tossed the quilt aside, and lay down right next to him.
After the exhausting day, Li Miaomiao was utterly spent. Not even the presence of a handsome, cold-hearted man could stop her from falling asleep. She stifled a yawn and closed her eyes.
Having another person by his side made Xiao Xian feel incredibly uncomfortable. The thin veil of feigned gentleness on his face vanished entirely, replaced by eyes as deep and cold as a bottomless abyss. His sword-like brows knit together, looking sharper than ever.
As her steady breathing began to fill the room, he picked up a small stone he had been hiding beneath the bedding, his voice dripping with frost.
“Get off!”
Li Miaomiao opened her eyes, turned on her side to face him, and replied, enunciating every word with ironclad determination.
“Ab-so-lute-ly—not.”
The moment the last word left her lips, Xiao Xian rolled the stone between his fingers twice. Trying to die, are you?
He slowly raised his left hand, his intent to kill rising. But just as he did, a slender arm draped over his waist and gave him a gentle pat. A warm breath brushed against the skin of his neck as the woman spoke.
“I’ll wash the bedding and have it dried by tomorrow, then I’ll move back. Just bear with me for these few days, okay?”
“I’m so tired. Let’s sleep.”
With that, Li Miaomiao tightened her grip on his waist slightly, rested her forehead against his shoulder, and drifted off to sleep.
The room fell deathly silent. Even though his entire right arm was going numb from the weight of her head, Xiao Xian didn’t move an inch. His gaze was like a torch, slanted down to stare at her plain, unremarkable face. Her sweet, coaxing words echoed repeatedly in his ears.
He lowered his left hand over the side of the bed. The stone in his palm crumbled into fine sand, spilling out through his fingertips until his hand was empty.
He pulled his gaze away and stared up at the mosquito net, watching it for the time it takes to brew a cup of tea before he finally closed his eyes.
Fine. I’ll let you live a few more days.