Zhou Yu let out a muffled grunt, pressing her a bit more heavily against the flower-patterned wall, his voice low and husky: “I’ve missed you. How many more days?”
Rose petals fluttered down from above, a few smoky pink ones landing on Zhao E’s hair bun, adding touches of brightness to her dark tresses.
She let out a soft laugh: “Seven days in total. Count for yourself.”
What Zhou Yu was asking about was when her monthly flow would end.
“Miss, someone’s here.” Ling Feng called out in warning from that direction.
Zhao E pushed Zhou Yu away and strode off.
Zhou Yu caught her wrist.
Zhao E looked back: “Something else?”
Zhou Yu raised his hand, carefully plucking off those petals: “Be more careful.”
“At this rate, I’d almost think you truly care for me.” Zhao E teased, pinching his cheek before turning and walking away.
“Are you the eldest young madam up ahead?” A servant boy carrying a lantern asked.
“What is it?” Zhao E walked over slowly.
“Someone from the Jinyang Prince’s Residence has come, saying they have urgent business with the eldest young madam.” The servant boy bowed: “Please return to the residence for a visit.”
“Where is this person?” Zhao E casually plucked a flower leaf and toyed with it in her hand, asking at a leisurely pace.
“Waiting at the main gate.” The servant boy replied with his head lowered.
“I don’t have time to go back. Xiyu, go to the gate and pass along a message.” Zhao E casually tossed the leaf to the ground, her embroidered shoes stepping over it.
Someone from the Jinyang Prince’s Residence coming—no need to guess, it was certainly Zhao Ruxiu blaming all her hand injuries on her.
Her dear father summoning her back was to vent his anger for his beloved youngest daughter.
What a pity—she was no longer what she used to be, and she wouldn’t meekly submit anymore.
Walking all the way to the entrance of Zhaoyang Gate, the maidservant on duty came forward to greet her, reporting in a low voice: “Miss, the eldest madam has arrived.”
Zhao E’s delicate brows furrowed slightly as she stepped into the courtyard. The door of the room stood wide open.
She looked up—lanterns swayed gently under the eaves, and sure enough, Jiang Wang-shi was sitting in her room.
“Mother-in-law.” Zhao E entered the room, a smile curving at the corners of her lips as she addressed her.
“Where have you been? Coming back so late.” Jiang Wang-shi sat upright in the seat of honor, radiating the full authority of the mistress of the household, a hint of displeasure in her brow.
“The night is long; it’s too early to sleep anyway.” Zhao E’s eyes held a smile: “I took a stroll through the garden to pass the time.”
“The day after tomorrow is the autumn equinox. Princess Le Tao is hosting a new rice banquet and has sent you an invitation.” Jiang Wang-shi took out an exquisite invitation card and set it on the table.
Splitting new rice at the autumn equinox was a custom—though the imperial relatives and nobles didn’t farm, they found plenty of excuses throughout the year to host banquets on such occasions.
Zhao E glanced at it, smiling without a word.
“You are the newly married daughter-in-law of the Fuguo Duke’s Residence. Every word and deed of yours is the face of our household. On that day, conduct yourself with dignity and don’t give outsiders cause for ridicule.” Jiang Wang-shi picked up her teacup, took a sip of clear tea, and delivered her admonishment.
The sight of Zhao E’s demeanor was enough to irritate her, and she had half a mind not to bring her to the banquet at all.
But unfortunately, Zhao E was nominally her daughter-in-law, the new bride of the Fuguo Duke’s Residence—if she didn’t bring her to such an event, outsiders would find fault with it.
For a great household like the Fuguo Duke’s Residence, face was the most important thing. Having managed the household affairs for years without a single misstep, how could she leave such an obvious handle for others to criticize?
“Yes.” Zhao E’s brows curved into crescents as she nodded in agreement.
Jiang Wang-shi rose: “Come with me first, to pay respects to Grandmother. The old lady has prepared dinner.”
“I already ate dinner at the market, Mother-in-law, please go on your own.” As she spoke, Zhao E walked straight into the inner room.
“Zhao E.” Jiang Wang-shi followed her in, clearly displeased. “You’ve been married into this family for so long, yet you’ve only paid respects to Grandmother once, on the day of the wedding.
By rights, you should be paying your respects morning and evening. Now Grandmother has prepared dinner and invited you over, and you won’t even go—what is the meaning of this?
Is this the upbringing of your Jinyang Prince’s Residence?”
Zhao E unhurriedly raised her hand to lift the bed curtain, about to sit down.
The moment she looked up, she saw Zhou Yu leaning against the headboard, a book in his hand.
Clearly, before she had entered, Zhou Yu had been leaning against the headboard reading, and the bed curtain had probably just been let down.
Zhao E’s hand paused. She dropped the bed curtain as if nothing had happened, turned to look at Jiang Wang-shi, and said with a smiling whisper, “If Mother-in-law wants to talk about propriety, I know a little about that too.
I’ve been married into this family for so long, and Huaifu has never once performed the conjugal rites with me. To whom am I supposed to air my grievances?
If we really start counting, I don’t even qualify as a member of the Fuguo Duke’s Residence, so let’s not talk about so many rules.”
“You!” Jiang Wang-shi had adhered to wifely virtue for most of her life, and never had anyone dared to say such things to her face. She was truly furious. “Isn’t it because your reputation is so bad that you scared him into not daring to enter Zhaoyang Yuan?”
“On our wedding night, did he not come to my chambers?” Zhao E slipped one hand inside the bed curtain, hooked Zhou Yu’s hand, and toyed with it in her own, while outside she spoke slowly and softly to Jiang Wang-shi, “I gave him a chance. Unfortunately, he was useless.”
What Jiang Wang-shi wanted to call her to the old madam’s place for, she didn’t know, and didn’t want to know.
Judging by Jiang Wang-shi’s expression, it was nothing good anyway. She just had to refuse.
Jiang Wang-shi’s face turned ashen. “You really won’t go?”
“I won’t.” Zhao E kicked off her embroidered shoes. “I’m tired. I want to bathe. Mother-in-law, please see yourself out.”
“Outrageous!” Jiang Wang-shi restrained the urge to have her bound and taken away, and swept out in a huff.
“Are you staying here again tonight?” Zhao E lifted the bed curtain and asked Zhou Yu.
“Mm.” Zhou Yu responded, then pulled her left hand over to examine it. “Why did you remove the gauze?”
“Just a superficial wound.” Zhao E said dismissively. “It’s already scabbed over.”
“Shall I help you bathe?” Zhou Yu raised his calm, clear eyes to look at her.
“It’s just a small injury. Do you take me for a cripple?” Zhao E laughed, then rose and called for Xiyu to bring in hot water.
Zhou Yu turned a page of his book as he listened to the sound of water behind the screen, but his thoughts had long since drifted off to somewhere unknown.
Zhao E did not trust him—or rather, she did not trust anyone.
She was like a small beast that had been hurt too many times, using a flamboyant smile and an arrogant, domineering manner to build a thick layer of armor around herself.
After bathing, Zhao E reclined on the soft couch. Xishi brought in the calming medicine, and she drank it in one go.
Then, with her wet hair loose and disheveled, she let Xiyu wipe it dry for her.
Zhou Yu silently got off the bed, took the long towel from Xiyu’s hands, sat behind her, and with gentle, meticulous movements, dried her hair just right.
“Jiang Shike embezzled the disaster relief silver. The people His Majesty sent have already found leads.” Zhou Yu’s voice was clear and cool as he spoke slowly. “Jiang Wang-shi is in a hurry to call you to the old madam’s place. I expect they’ve discussed trying to get silver out of you first.”
Jiang Shike was the Fuguo Duke.
“In their dreams.” Zhao E laughed. She felt comfortable, and like a little cat, pillowed her head on his lap.
Zhou Yu’s movements grew even gentler.
“When is your marriage with Zhao Yuehua going to be settled?” Zhao E’s almond eyes narrowed slightly, a hazy sleepiness in her soft tone.
“What’s this?” Zhou Yu’s hand paused mid-motion. He lowered his eyes to look at her, his cold, pale, slender fingers curling, the knuckles prominent.