Steward Guo, observing from the side, felt the atmosphere between the two was somewhat strange and quickly spoke up to ease the tension.
“Young Master, don’t let this young woman’s youth fool you. The little master is quite fond of her, and her milk is plentiful. It’s only been a few days, but look—he’s already grown a bit plumper…”
Following his words, Chu Jin finally shifted his gaze from Luo Ran to Yan Ge’er, who was sleeping soundly on the bed.
Yan Ge’er was deep in slumber, his little face fair and flushed with pink, indeed having gained some weight since he was first brought here.
Beside him lay a little girl, who looked a few months older than Yan Ge’er, sleeping just as peacefully.
The two children lay side by side, their delicate, porcelain-like faces and long eyelashes making them look almost like twins at first glance.
Chu Jin’s brow twitched slightly.
“That is…”
Steward Guo hurriedly replied,
“Young Master, that is Luo Niangzi’s daughter. Seeing the child was so young, I took the liberty of allowing her to bring her along while caring for the little master, to keep him company.”
Chu Jin said nothing, only lowering his gaze to the two small figures on the bed, his eyes pausing for a moment.
The room fell silent for a while.
“How old?”
Luo Ran, kneeling on the floor, was momentarily stunned upon hearing this before realizing the question was directed at her.
Fearing that Chu Jin might forbid her from bringing Xiao Yue along to care for Yan Ge’er, her soft voice trembled slightly,
“Young Master, Xiao Yue is two months older than Yan Ge’er, just turned eight months old…”
Eight months.
That meant she was born after her husband’s death.
Chu Jin’s gaze darkened slightly, and he asked nothing further.
Steward Guo, gauging his master’s expression, cautiously ventured, “Young Master, do you find this wet nurse suitable?”
Chu Jin withdrew his gaze, looking down at the person kneeling on the floor.
She was still prostrated, her shoulders trembling faintly, the pale skin at the nape of her neck glowing softly in the candlelight.
From the moment she entered until now, she hadn’t dared to lift her head, as if terrified of him.
He recalled how she had trembled just as violently earlier, in his arms.
A small, soft bundle, carrying a faint, elusive scent of milk, struggling with teary eyes, gasping for breath as he covered her mouth, her red lips slightly parted, her gaze dazed as if he had thoroughly mistreated her.
Chu Jin’s eyes inexplicably darkened for a moment.
His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.
“Since Concubine Xu recommended her, let her stay.”
Steward Guo breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes, that’s what I thought as well…”
“However.”
Chu Jin interrupted him, his gaze still fixed on Luo Ran.
“Since you’re working in the General’s Manor, you must learn some rules.”
Luo Ran stiffened.
“In the future, when you see this general, there’s no need to be so timid.”
His tone was indifferent. “Lift your head when you speak.”
Luo Ran remained prostrated on the floor, her heart pounding so fiercely it felt as if it might leap from her throat.
She feared that if Chu Jin looked at her a few more times, he would recognize her.
Yet, she dared not disobey his words.
After a long moment, she slowly straightened up but kept her eyes lowered, her eyelashes trembling violently, still not daring to look at him.
Chu Jin watched her fearful yet compelled demeanor, the corner of his lips twitching slightly.
“You may go.”
Luo Ran felt as if granted a reprieve. She kowtowed once, picked up the still-sleeping Xiao Yue from the bed, and nearly fled the room in a panic.
Chu Jin stood where he was, watching the thin, flustered figure retreat.
Only when the sound of footsteps faded did he withdraw his gaze.
He lowered his head and looked at his hand.
His fingertips were still damp, a remnant from when he had pressed against the woman’s tongue to guide her breathing earlier.
The soft, warm, and moist sensation of her lips and tongue seemed to linger on his fingertips, refusing to fade.
After a long while, he suddenly asked, “What is her name?”
Steward Guo was momentarily taken aback before realizing who he was referring to.
“Reporting to the master, her name is Luo Ran.”
Luo Ran.
Chu Jin rolled the name over his tongue but said nothing more.
Truth be told, Luo Ran’s entry into this General’s residence was truly a stroke of luck.
Her cousin Xu Manyu was now a concubine of Chu Chengfeng from the second branch of the Chu family.
Though it sounded prestigious, inwardly she was filled with bitterness—suppressed by the principal wife above and contended with by the bedchamber maids below. Every day was like walking on thin ice; she dared not even take a deep breath.
Keeping Luo Ran for a few days was manageable, but if it went on longer, she feared it would invite gossip.
Xu Manyu was racking her brains over how to arrange for Luo Ran when, by chance, a child was sent back from the battlefield.
He was the orphan of Chu Jin’s trusted subordinate. The child’s father had died protecting his master, and with no one to care for him, Chu Jin took the child in as his adopted son, naming him Chu Yan and repeatedly emphasizing that he must be well looked after.
However, the child was quite delicate, refusing to drink either cow’s or goat’s milk, crying hungrily all day long.
The steward was so anxious that he searched all over the capital for a wet nurse, but none he found met his standards.
Upon hearing this news, Xu Manyu recommended Luo Ran.
Luo Ran went to give it a try, and unexpectedly, as soon as Yan Ge’er was in her arms, he quieted down, drinking heartily and contentedly.
Seeing this, the steward immediately decided to keep Luo Ran.
In high-ranking households, the rules were strict and the walls high.
Those ruffians who had ill intentions upon seeing Luo Ran as a widow with a child could not enter, and neither could harassment or bullying.
She no longer had to worry about where her next meal would come from or feel her heart race at the sound of footsteps.
Luo Ran’s anxious heart finally began to settle down.
But just as it had settled for a few days, upon seeing Chu Jin’s face, it suddenly leaped back up to her throat.
During her time at Chu Fu, she had vaguely heard of the deeds of this master of the household.
At eighteen, he achieved the title of Zhongwu Zhuangyuan; at twenty-five, he was personally appointed by the emperor as General of the State, with countless military achievements and significant influence in the court.
It was said that on the battlefield, he was decisive, ruthless, and composed.
Though he was handsome and elegant in appearance, his robust and imposing stature was intimidating. When he stood there, no one within ten meters dared to breathe loudly.
He was practically spoken of as if he were a celestial being.
Luo Ran had once felt a bit of curiosity about this master, but she never imagined that he would bear such a striking resemblance to the man she had rescued in the valley the year before.
… Rather than resembling him, it was more accurate to say they were one and the same person.
Yet, no matter how hard Luo Ran racked her brains, she couldn’t understand why Chu Jin, who should have been fighting at the border, would appear in such a remote and barren valley.
At that time, she had just been driven out by her in-laws in the second month after giving birth.
Her family truly had not even a morsel of food to fill their stomachs.
Desperate for something to eat, she braved strong winds to go up the mountain to gather herbs, hoping to exchange them for a few coins to survive.
It was then, in the secluded mountains, that she encountered a man covered in wounds and unconscious.
Seeing how severely he was injured, she used all the herbs she had intended to trade for two meals on him.
Later, she accidentally caught a glimpse of the pouch at the man’s waist and thought of the desperate situation she and her child were in…
In a moment of weakness, she took the smallest silver ingot from inside.
She told herself it was payment for her herbs.
Luo Ran had never attended school and didn’t understand grand principles, but she knew that taking without asking was theft.
If she hadn’t been pushed to the brink, she would never have done such a thing.
After that day, she felt uneasy and anxious for a long time, avoiding others every day, terrified of being discovered.
As the days passed slowly, it seemed no unexpected incidents occurred, so she gradually buried the matter deep in her heart, avoiding any thought of it.
Now, thinking back on this matter…
She lay awake all night in anxiety, fearing that one day Chu Jin would recognize her as the little thief who had stolen his silver ingot.