This was the second time Jiang Chengyuan had seen her looking so troubled—the first had been in the carriage on their return‑home day.
Thinking of how she had just tried so hard to stay with her mother, a fleeting ripple crossed his eyes, gone in an instant.
He rose, tugged at his robe as if speaking of something utterly ordinary:
“Madam, lead the way.”
Yun Shuyue: “…”
The shift in the storyline left Yun Shuyue momentarily at a loss. Her luminous eyes lifted, meeting his gaze with a flicker of confusion. She murmured: “Husband, please.”
Panyue Garden remained much as it had before her marriage, except the beauty couch had been replaced with a soft bed, and the dressing table with a simple desk. As they entered, warmth greeted them—the room had clearly been heated in advance.
From the incense burner on the table, wisps of smoke curled upward, filling the chamber with a faint fragrance.
Chun Liu brought in hot water. Seeing her mistress and the lord together in one room, she lowered her head, lips curved in a smile. On the wedding night, her lady had slept alone; who would have thought that back at the Yun residence, fortune would turn?
Earlier, First Madam had asked Chun Liu many questions about Yun Shuyue’s life in the Prime Minister’s household. Chun Liu had been forced to repeat the carefully prepared lies—reporting only good news, never bad—and certainly not daring to mention that her mistress had spent her wedding night alone.
When Chun Liu left, only Yun Shuyue and Jiang Chengyuan remained. The atmosphere grew stiff and awkward. After washing, Yun Shuyue sat on the soft bed, while Jiang Chengyuan took out unfinished memorials and sat at her desk to continue writing.
They busied themselves separately until Jiang Chengyuan finished his documents. Outside, the night had grown so still that only the chirping of insects could be heard.
Yun Shuyue knew they couldn’t drag things out forever. She dared not let the Prime Minister sleep on the couch: “My lord, you’ve been tired all day. Please rest on the bed tonight.”
Behind the screen, Jiang Chengyuan paused while changing clothes, then answered with a quiet: “Mm.”
Yun Shuyue carried her quilt to the couch, intending to sleep fully dressed. She had already dismissed Chun Liu earlier, and now that it was late, she didn’t plan to call anyone back. Unfastening her robe seemed too much trouble, so she decided not to undress at all.
After the lights were extinguished, Yun Shuyue soon felt drowsy. Just as she hovered between wakefulness and sleep, faint rustling sounds came from outside.
Jiang Chengyuan’s sharp hearing picked it up immediately—someone was outside.
Yun Shuyue, startled, instinctively rose, clutching her quilt and running to Jiang Chengyuan’s bed. She knew only one thing: no one, especially her mother, could discover that she and Jianh Chengyuan were merely husband and wife in name. Otherwise, her mother would worry endlessly.
Jiang Chengyuan, lying near the edge, shifted inward as she approached, instinctively avoiding contact.
Yun Shuyue climbed onto the bed, whispering urgently: “Forgive me, husband. No one in the Yun household must know we are only husband and wife in name. This is the only way.”
She lowered her head to unfasten her robe, but the more she fumbled, the more tangled she became. After much effort, she managed to undo only one button.
Meanwhile, the oiled paper window bulged outward—someone was pressing against it. Yun Shuyue panicked, but her fingers were clumsy.
Seeing her flustered face, Jiang Chengyuan reached out, intending to help with the buttons. But before he could, the window was pierced open.
His hand tightened suddenly, and with a sharp rip, Yun Shuyue’s robe tore apart.
The sound of tearing cloth filled the quiet room with a charged ambiguity. At the same instant the window was breached, Jiang Chengyuan tossed the garment to the floor.
Neither had expected such an outcome. Yun Shuyue stared at the discarded robe in shock until Jiang Chengyuan pulled her down beside him. With someone’s gaze peering in from outside, he leaned over her and drew down the pink curtain.
For the first time, Yun Shuyue was so close to him—within arm’s reach.
The tossed robe startled the intruder, who cried out in pain, followed by the thud of a falling stone. It seemed they had twisted an ankle.
To Yun Shuyue’s surprise, the one spying at her window was none other than her second uncle’s daughter—Yun Ruoning.
After that incident, Yun Shuyue dared not risk returning to the couch. With the window pierced, if anyone discovered something amiss, the Yun household would surely be thrown into chaos the next day.
The bed in Panyue Garden was small—just enough for two, with no extra space. Yun Shuyue lay stiffly on the outer side, unmoving, until at last sleep overtook her.
The steady rhythm of breathing reached Jiang Chengyuan’s ears. He couldn’t resist turning his head to look. Accustomed to the dark, his eyes traced her features: the straight bridge of her nose, lips gently pressed together, hands folded neatly before her. Her sleeping posture was precise, almost rigid. Yet when she had rushed toward him clutching her quilt in panic earlier, something inside him had stirred unexpectedly.
Realizing the shift in his emotions, Jiang Chengyuan turned his gaze back to the pale canopy above.
Perhaps because she had gone to bed late, Yun Shuyue slept deeply. She didn’t stir until Chun Liu arrived with hot water. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Half‑awake, her expression was soft, lazy, tinged with coquettishness. But as her senses returned, her half‑closed eyes widened in shock—right before her was a face magnified in proximity.
Dark, fathomless eyes met hers, and her heart skipped a beat. “Madam, could you move your leg?”
Compared to her drowsy tone, Jiang Chengyuan’s voice was steady and clear. He had been awake for some time. Yun Shuyue then realized her leg was draped across him, her arm encircling his chest. The posture was far too intimate.
She laughed awkwardly, quickly pulling back: “I’m terribly sorry, my lord. Last night, it was an accident!”
Jiang Chengyuan watched her flushed cheeks, even reddening to the ears. His eyes narrowed slightly. This woman blamed everything on last night’s “accident”—a convenient excuse. She had no idea he had spent the night sleepless, enduring in silence.
Outside, Chun Liu waited. When no sound came, she worried the water would cool and pushed the door open. Seeing the torn garment on the floor, she froze, then gasped. Her eyes flicked to the tightly drawn bed curtains, and she instantly understood what must have happened.
She quickly said: “Madam, my lord—First Madam said you talked too late last night. You may sleep in a little longer; there’s no need to rise yet.”
As she left, Chun Liu called back: “The kitchen has just boiled fresh water. I’ll bring another basin later.”
The water prepared for the wedding night had gone unused; now, at last, it would serve its purpose—bringing a sense of completion.
Inside the bed curtains, Yun Shuyue felt her cheeks burn. She hurriedly rose from the bed.
Meanwhile, Chun Liu, leaving Panyue Garden, ran straight to First Madam’s quarters. After telling so many lies yesterday, her conscience felt heavy, almost defiant. Seeing the First Madam now made her nervous.
But with her mistress and the lord finally sharing a room, Chun Liu’s first thought was to deliver the good news.
When she reached the east wing, Miao Yuhua was already dressed, preparing to visit the Old Madam at Anxin Garden. Seeing Chun Liu rushing in, she assumed something serious had happened. But the maid’s face was glowing with smiles.
Miao Yuhua asked in puzzlement: “Why are you so flustered so early? Has something happened?”
Chun Liu: “…”
Caught off guard, Chun Liu didn’t know how to explain.
Yun Hongyi emerged from his room, misunderstanding the situation. He thought his daughter was unwell again and asked anxiously: “Is Yue’er feeling sick?”
Chun Liu waved her hands quickly: “No, no.”
Miao Yuhua pressed: “Then what is it? Speak clearly.”
Blushing, Chun Liu stammered: “I… I went to deliver water to Madam’s room, and I saw… saw… her clothes… torn!”
She didn’t wait for further questions. Face flushed with excitement, she dashed off toward the kitchen to prepare more hot water.
Miao Yuhua and Yun Hongyi were stunned at first, then quickly understood. Miao Yuhua’s lips curved into a smile, though she scolded lightly: “That girl Chun Liu—her mouth has no guard at all.”