Liu Muli’s voice caught in her throat. She steadied her breathing, doing her best to calm herself before speaking. “I was born in the countryside. I can barely read a handful of characters. My manners are coarse and unrefined. I know full well that I am no match for you. If I go to the capital with you, I shall only bring you shame and become the subject of ridicule.”
She spoke nothing but the truth. In her past life, she had never studied the sages’ classics. What little reading she knew came from storybooks and romances; she had never had the patience for those dry, tedious texts. Her bearing and manners could not compare in the slightest with the noble ladies and princesses of the capital. She remained, after all, a country girl at heart—and no matter how hard she tried, she could never hope to match their effortless grace and refinement.
When Wei Linye had taken first place in the imperial examinations, his fame had spread far and wide. With his extraordinary bearing and strikingly handsome features, ladies of rank and noble-born daughters in the capital had all begun setting their caps for him, eager to win the esteemed *Zhuangyuan* as their husband. Yet Wei Linye had turned every one of them down. He had declared openly that his heart belonged to another, that he would marry none but her, and that they would share one bed, one bond, for the rest of their lives.
Those high-born ladies had been heartbroken. Many sent servants to make inquiries—and when they learned the woman Wei Linye loved was nothing more than an uneducated village girl, they ceased to take Liu Muli seriously. They continued to press their suits, suggesting that Liu Muli might at least be taken as a concubine. When word reached her ears, Liu Muli had lived in constant fear, terrified that Wei Linye would eventually be persuaded to take a wife of his own station. Overcome with misery, she had once locked herself in her chambers, wept her eyes red, and packed her things to return to her hometown of Yongning County.
Wei Linye had laughed at her lack of faith, and had told her plainly: he would never take another woman as his wife. She alone would be his. Only then had her frantic heart found peace. She had been deliriously happy, blinded by love, and had revelled in his devotion to her for months afterward.
In time, however, there were inevitable gatherings and banquets where Wei Linye was expected to appear with his wife. The ladies and matrons at those feasts were worlds apart from her—elegant, cultivated, and graceful in speech. She, meanwhile, knew nothing but tales from storybooks, with not a scrap of refinement or learning to her name.
Before long, word had spread throughout the capital: that the brilliant, learned Hanlin Scholar Wei Linye had for a wife a crude, unlettered village woman. It became the talk of the town, a source of endless gossip and pity. Liu Muli had known all of this. Terrified and desperate, she had forced herself to read the sages’ books and tried desperately to correct her every gesture and habit. What she had not understood then was that the harder she strove, the further she would fall.
Every time she saw or heard even a hint of him drawing close to another woman, she had lost control—plagued by doubt and jealousy, she would confront him, and they would quarrel. In her rage, she had hurled the most vile insults at him: scoundrel, bastard, beast, villain, trash. Wei Linye’s face would turn livid with fury, and he would retort that she was every bit the coarse, ill-bred peasant she appeared to be. Even now, Liu Muli could still recall how he had glared at her and declared her rude, unmannered, and utterly unreasonable.
Those bitter memories surged back, piercing her heart like a thousand needles. Tears welled unbidden in her eyes, yet she forced herself to speak through the lump in her throat. “I will not become a laughingstock. And I will not stay only to be called coarse and unrefined by you. Go to the capital alone!”
More than anything, she refused to become that same woman again—wretched, insecure, consumed by jealousy, trembling in constant dread that he would cast her aside and take a proper wife. She was only nineteen. She had her whole life ahead of her.
“Nonsense!” Wei Linye’s expression darkened instantly, his voice sharp with indignation. “Tell me—when have I ever looked upon you with anything but favour? When have I ever been ashamed of you?”
Liu Muli sniffled and turned her head away, refusing to meet his furious gaze. “Sooner or later you will,” she insisted stubbornly. “You will grow to despise me. You will hate that I am coarse, that I am nothing but a village girl… mmph—!”
His eyes flashed with dangerous intensity. He reached out, seized her chin, and forced her face toward his. Then he kissed her fiercely, swallowing every last word she had meant to say. He could not bear to hear her speak of herself in such a way.
Liu Muli was stunned. A rush of hurt and resentment—all the bitterness and sorrow from her past life—surged through her, and she recoiled. She fought him with all her strength, straining to break free of his kiss and his hold. But the more she struggled, the tighter his grip became, the more forceful his embrace. Tears spilled hot and fast down her cheeks. The moment he gave her the slightest breath, she spat at him through her sobbing: “You heartless bastard! You beast!”
Wei Linye said nothing, his face dark with suppressed feeling. He brushed the pad of his thumb gently across the corner of her eye, and let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Go on, then,” he said, his voice low and taut with emotion. “Insult me. Say whatever bitter words you wish. I should like to hear what else you have to say.”
Liu Muli fell abruptly silent, caught off guard. She had expected him to hurl those same insults back at her—to call her coarse and ill-bred yet again. She drew a shaky breath. “I will not bandy words with you. I wish to sleep. Please—leave.”
“Leave? Why should I leave? I am sleeping here.” With that, he swept her effortlessly up into his arms, picked up the oil lamp in his free hand, carried her to the bed, and laid her down gently. Then he began to undress and climbed in beside her.
Liu Muli stared at him, wide-eyed. “No—you may not sleep beside me! My monthly courses began only yesterday!”
Wei Linye paused, bare-chested, his dark eyes fixed intently upon her. A look of exasperation and doubt flickered across his face. “Liu Muli,” he said, his voice steady and certain. “Your courses always fall at the middle of the month—not at its end.”
Liu Muli had her answer ready, and spoke without the slightest tremor. “This month they are late. They began yesterday, just as I told you.”
Wei Linye gave a short, cold scoff and plainly did not believe her. He reached out to verify the truth of her words for himself—only to feel unmistakable evidence of her words. He froze, his expression turning stormy. He withdrew his hand, blew out the lamp, and lay down in silence.
It was pitch black in the room, and Liu Muli could not see the look of profound frustration on his face—which was something of a pity. She had anticipated exactly this turn of events. She had prepared everything in advance, arranging matters so that it would appear her courses had begun the previous day. Her bleeding would last six or seven days, just as it always did. And according to what she remembered from her past life, Wei Linye was due to depart for the capital in three days’ time. He would have no opportunity to press his attentions upon her.
A faint, relieved smile touched her lips. She lay down as far from him as possible, pressed close against the wall.
“Liu Muli… come here.” His voice came out of the darkness, calm and commanding as ever.
Liu Muli pulled the quilt tighter around herself, pretended she had heard nothing, and kept her eyes firmly shut, her back turned resolutely toward him.
Wei Linye turned his head to gaze at her outline in the dim light, his brows drawn together in a heavy frown. What on earth had gotten into this stubborn girl today? Why must she oppose him at every turn?
He stretched out his long arm, reached across the bed, and hauled her unceremoniously back against his chest, holding her firmly in his embrace so she could not squirm away. Her back pressed against his hard, warm chest, separated only by the thin fabric of her undergarment. Heat rose instantly to her cheeks.
The shameless man—all he ever thinks about is dragging me into bed! she thought angrily. It is entirely my own fault, I suppose. I gave him my heart so completely, let him win me over again and again… In the end, men are all alike. He thinks of nothing but base desires.
Blazing with indignation, she seized his wrist and bit him hard—right over the fleshy part near his thumb.
Wei Linye hissed sharply in pain. “Liu Muli! Are you a dog?”
She had bitten him with all her might. The wound was deep, and blood welled up immediately. Had she used just a fraction more force, those sharp little teeth of hers might very well have torn the flesh clean through.