Nearly half an hour had passed since dinnertime. The dishes on the table had been reheated again and again. Shen Wangshu was already past hunger, yet Chen Ting still hadn’t returned.
Taohong, standing nearby, was even more anxious than she was, repeatedly glancing toward the door and muttering softly, “Where did the general go today? Even if he’s not coming back, he should at least send word. Look how late it is…”
Shen Wangshu silently poured herself cup after cup of tea. It wasn’t that she insisted on waiting to eat with Chen Ting—mainly, that feudal relic Nanny Liang was watching from the side. What happened a few days ago, when Shen Wangshu hadn’t gotten up early to attend to Chen Ting, had already given the old woman plenty to nag about. If Shen Wangshu dared touch her chopsticks before Chen Ting returned, she would definitely be lectured to death.
Nanny Liang had once served a noble consort, and in her eyes, attending to one’s husband was no different from attending to the emperor.
Worse still, she never used force. She simply repeated herself over and over, whispering into one’s ear day after day. Since she had been sent by Madam Xiahou as family support from Shen Wangshu’s maternal side, Shen Wangshu couldn’t dismiss her lightly.
To preserve her peace of mind, Shen Wangshu could only try her best to follow Nanny Liang’s instructions—or make sure she didn’t find out.
She was staring blankly at her teacup when Taohong suddenly exclaimed joyfully, “The general is back!”
Finally.
Shen Wangshu set down her cup, smoothed her skirt, and stood up, smiling as she went to greet him as usual. “My lord.”
But the man walked past her with a dark expression, not even glancing her way. The disregard was obvious.
Shen Wangshu: “……?” What was this supposed to mean? What was wrong with him now?
Nanny Liang exclaimed, “He must still be angry about your attitude in the bedchamber a few days ago. Have you corrected your sleeping positions these past days? Did you actually listen to me and show concern and attentiveness toward the general?”
Shen Wangshu spread her hands, looking utterly innocent. “That’s unfair, Nanny. Haven’t you seen how attentive I’ve been these past days? I haven’t done anything at all!”
Wutong instructed the servants to replace the dishes with freshly heated ones and said, “No matter what, it’s good that the general has returned. Let’s talk during the meal. He must have run into something today.”
Shen Wangshu sat upright at the table. Before long, Chen Ting returned after changing clothes, carrying the faint scent of water.
“My lord, would you like some tea?” Under Nanny Liang’s frantic hints, Shen Wangshu had no choice but to initiate conversation with this inexplicably angry man. She had to mind her tone as well—gentle as water. “Did something troublesome happen today? Why did you come back so late?”
Chen Ting glanced at her slender, fair hands, accepted the tea, and shook his head, growing ever more sparing with words. “Nothing.”
Clearly, he didn’t want to talk.
Shen Wangshu could only serve him food. “Then eat first. The kitchen made grilled lamb chops today, seasoned with a blend I prepared myself. My lord, please see how it tastes.”
He ate the lamb chop she placed in his bowl, yet still refused to speak or even look at her.
Such a bad temper—but why?
Deliberately, Shen Wangshu put vegetables he disliked into his bowl. He swallowed them without a word, head lowered as he ate in silence. His mind was blank—there was nothing for her to read even if she wanted to.
They finished the meal in silence. Shen Wangshu took the initiative. “My lord, would you accompany me for a walk in the courtyard to aid digestion?”
After the meal, Chen Ting had nowhere to rest his gaze and could only look at her. Hearing her request, he wanted to refuse—his feelings toward her were complicated now, mixed with anger, and he didn’t want to be alone with her.
Yet when he met those clear, dark eyes, the refusal reached his lips and then retreated. He nodded silently.
Shen Wangshu rose happily and hooked her arm through his—something she had developed the habit of doing these past few days. She said that when the two of them appeared together, this made them look closer, and Chen Ting had gone along with it.
Perhaps out of compensation… he never refused any of her requests.
But if one day she asked to leave, Chen Ting felt he would definitely refuse.
The moon tonight was bright and full. The success of the soap earlier in the day had kept Shen Wangshu in a good mood, so she decided to be magnanimous and have a moonlit talk with Chen Ting, to ask what was really going on.
They walked to the lakeside pavilion. Shen Wangshu had Taohong and the others stay farther away, while she and Chen Ting enjoyed the moon with a pot of plum wine.
Pouring him a cup, Shen Wangshu smiled warmly. “My lord, what troubles your heart today? Why not share it with me?”
Chen Ting usually didn’t drink sweet fruit wine like this. He preferred something stronger—fiery spirits—best enjoyed with the whole camp of soldiers after a victory, drinking and eating meat together.
But when this small cup was offered from a beauty’s hand, he accepted it.
One sip revealed nothing but sweet plum fragrance. Drinking it occasionally, it seemed not too bad.
This wine was something Shen Wangshu had brought from the Xiahou residence. It tasted sweet, but the aftereffect was strong. Seeing his air of drowning his sorrows in drink, she accompanied him, pouring herself a cup and sipping slowly. Before long, she watched him down four or five cups.
After several rounds of wine, even the most taciturn person should feel the urge to speak.
Shen Wangshu coaxed him again. “My lord, you came back late today and looked very unhappy. Did you run into someone, or did something happen? Tell me—perhaps I can help you.”
Chen Ting didn’t flush from drinking, but the haze in his eyes showed he was indeed somewhat drunk. Under Shen Wangshu’s persistent urging, he finally spoke his first words of the night.
He asked, “You’ve been married into this household for several days now. How do you find life at the ducal residence?”
Shen Wangshu blinked, puzzled. “…Quite good?” Quiet and comfortable, with servants for everything and a husband who wasn’t often home—what was there not to like?
“In terms of food, clothing, and daily use, has your aunt shortchanged you? In clothing, food, housing, and travel—have I treated you harshly?”
“No.” She shook her head, hearing his trembling inner voice: Then why are you unwilling to stay? Why would you collude with someone else to kill me!
“…?” What?
Shen Wangshu thought she had misheard and looked at him in disbelief—only to meet a face stricken with heartbreak. The way Chen Ting looked at her was like that of a man staring at a wife who had abandoned him and their child.
No—do you dare think that through again? Who is killing whom?
Feeling terribly wronged, Shen Wangshu couldn’t help saying, “My lord, what are you trying to say? Do you have some misunderstanding about me?”
Chen Ting stared at her, his gaze turning colder by the inch. “Have you ever thought about leaving the ducal residence?”
“Have you ever regretted marrying me?”
Shen Wangshu said, “I…”
“I want the truth!”
“…I have thought about it, but I have never regretted marrying you.” Shen Wangshu told the truth. She had thought about making some money and leaving someday. As a modern person, she naturally didn’t want to be trapped in the inner quarters forever—she wanted to practice medicine.
But these were only thoughts for now, not something she could actually do. She didn’t think admitting it was a big deal.
Yet that single sentence made Chen Ting explode. He abruptly stood, seized her slender waist, and pinned her against the pavilion pillar. His eyes were bloodshot, a faint golden glint flashing within, as he growled in fury:
“Don’t even think about it!”