After seeing off the last of the village elders, still hiccupping from the wine and spouting well-wishes, and closing the creaking courtyard gate, Chen Zhiwei finally exhaled a gentle sigh of relief.
The tables and chairs used for the celebration had also been tidied up by kindhearted aunts and elder women—otherwise, she would have had to do it herself, and it would have been exhausting.
Chen Zhiyi, nimble as ever, heated up some water, teasingly eyeing his newlywed sister and brother-in-law.
“Brother-in-law, you must be tired today. Go take a bath!”
Wang You obediently said “Oh” and got up, heading toward the makeshift bath area.
About fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open, and Wang You emerged, still surrounded by lingering steam.
His jet-black hair wasn’t tied up as usual; it was loosely held at the back with a simple hair tie. A few damp strands clung to his smooth forehead and slender neck, the tips dotted with tiny water droplets that trickled into his slightly open collar as he moved.
He had changed into a clean, plain white undergarment. The material was ordinary, but still clung slightly to his lean but well-proportioned shoulders and back, shaped subtly by the remaining moisture.
The belt of his clothing was somewhat loose, revealing a segment of his collarbone and a small patch of fair skin, which seemed to glow softly in the night.
Perhaps from the steam of the hot water, a faint blush tinted his cheeks all the way to his ears. Even his normally clear and innocent eyes looked like polished obsidian, glistening wet, reflecting the flickering lamplight. The lingering mist added an unusual sense of serene laziness and near-pure daze.
He stood there by the doorway, tilting his head slightly, using a coarse towel to roughly dab at the ends of his hair. Droplets slid down into his collar with each movement.
Chen Zhiyi stared blankly for a moment before nodding in satisfaction.
Chen Zhiwei’s heartbeat skipped a beat.
Wang You smiled at her, his expression still free of any shadow, radiating the warmth that only comes after a bath. “I’m done, I feel refreshed. Sister, you should go wash too.”
As Chen Zhiwei went to bathe, Chen Zhiyi leaned toward Wang You, lowering his voice. “Brother-in-law, you’re the groom today. Tonight you sleep with Sister, got it? See, her room over there—that’s now your room.”
Wang You blinked. “Sleep with Sister? She won’t kick me out?”
“Of course not. Trust me—Sister would never kick you out.”
When Chen Zhiwei finished washing and changed into her usual old clothes, she returned to her room, only to find Chen Zhiyi whispering near Wang You, who looked bewildered but attentive.
Seeing her, Chen Zhiyi quickly ducked back, blinking, slipping into his own room, leaving the door ajar.
Chen Zhiwei smirked, pushing open her door—and sure enough, Wang You was already sitting on the edge of her bed in a rather awkward pose.
He had clearly mimicked some pose he had seen somewhere: one hand propping his head sideways, body leaning awkwardly, while the other hand tugged open his loose collar, exposing more of his chest.
Yet, his face bore no trace of seduction—only complete nervousness and earnest effort, his wet eyes blinking as they fixed on Chen Zhiwei, silently asking, “Am I doing this right?”
“Dress properly. Don’t catch a cold,” her voice was calm and gentle, yet carried an unyielding authority. “Go back and sleep well. Don’t listen to Zhiyi all the time.”
Disappointed, Wang You’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears, his lips drooping like a scolded dog.
He lowered his head, silently slid off the bed, shuffled to the door, and glanced back at Chen Zhiwei, looking as pitiful as he could.
Chen Zhiwei hardened her heart and pointed to the room across the hall. “Go. Quickly.”
Wang You pouted but finally obeyed. Opening the door, he didn’t head to his small storage room but went straight to Chen Zhiyi’s room, voice whining, “Waa… I told you not to make me… you’re making me… Sister doesn’t like it and kicked me out… I’m sleeping with you tonight!”
With that, he squeezed past the half-open door and climbed in.
Chen Zhiyi, who was about to eavesdrop, was caught off guard. “Eh? Brother-in-law, you…” His words cut off when a warning came from Chen Zhiwei’s room: “Chen Zhiyi, if you teach him nonsense again, tomorrow I’ll go get you a wife!”
Chen Zhiyi’s scalp tingled. He groaned, watching Wang You crawl into the bed and wrap himself up in the blanket, thinking, This is my bed! Go to your own room!
Wang You’s muffled voice came from under the blanket, stubborn and resolute: “No, it’s cold there. It’s warm here. And Zhiyi is here.” He rolled further in, taking up most of the bed.
Chen Zhiyi glared at him for a long time, finally giving in.
He could only lie on the edge, grumbling mentally about all the nonsense he had been taught.
By the time Chen Zhiwei got up, Chen Zhiyi had already prepared brown rice porridge and was frying eggs at the stove, though his pale dark circles showed he hadn’t slept well.
Wang You, on the other hand, was energetic, sweeping the courtyard carefully and slowly. Seeing Chen Zhiwei emerge, he smiled brightly. “Good morning, Sister!”
“Morning,” Chen Zhiwei replied, rolling up her sleeves to help set the table.
Soon after breakfast, hurried footsteps came from outside, followed by a cautious knock.
“Excuse me… Is Chen the Agricultural Overseer awake?” A flattering middle-aged male voice called.
“I’m Zhou, steward of the Fengyu Grain Store in town, here to pay respects and congratulate the Agricultural Overseer on your happiness!”
Chen Zhiwei knew immediately—this was an apology for the previous visit, when they had tried to monopolize her beans.
“Come in,” she said calmly, her voice betraying no emotion.
The courtyard gate opened, and first to peek in was Zhou, steward of the Fengyu Grain Store, beaming from ear to ear. Behind him, his attendants carried two heavy, red-wrapped gift boxes.
“Congratulations, Agricultural Overseer Chen! Congratulations on your new marriage and for receiving the Emperor’s favor in your new post! Truly, Qinghe County is blessed!” Zhou bowed deeply, hands clasped, showing utmost humility—a stark contrast to his previous threatening attitude.
Chen Zhiwei stood in the courtyard, not inviting him to sit. She said lightly, “Steward Zhou, you’re welcome. Have you come today because there’s something new here for exclusive purchase?”
Her words were casual but hit Zhou’s guilty spot. His smile stiffened, sweat formed on his temples, and he hurriedly waved his hands, nearly pleading: “Ah, please, Overseer Chen! Don’t bring up that day! It was all my fault—blind, foolish words! My master scolded me well after returning! I’m here today to kneel and apologize properly!”
He even made a motion to kneel, but Chen Zhiwei stopped him.
Chen Zhiyi quickly brought over a stool, and Zhou had no choice but to lower half his backside onto it, signaling his attendants to set the gift boxes on the stone table for him to open.
Inside the first box were ten neatly stacked silver ingots, totaling one hundred taels of silver, along with several brightly colored bolts of brocade. The second box contained assorted delicate pastries and two jars of aged wine wrapped in red paper.
“Overseer Chen, this one hundred taels of silver, along with the brocade, pastries, and wine, is our humble token to celebrate your double joy! Please forgive my previous blindness and accept this gift.”
Zhou spoke quickly and urgently, face full of remorse and anxiety. “Since that day, I’ve been restless day and night! How dare I speak recklessly before you, Overseer Chen! I beg your forgiveness!”
His demeanor was completely different from the previous mix of soft and coercive threats—night and day difference.
Chen Zhiwei’s gaze swept over the silver, unmoved. She had anticipated that after receiving rewards, those who had slighted her before would change their attitude entirely.