Chapter 66 We Were Husband and Wife in Our Past Life

Chapter 66: We Were Husband and Wife in a Past Life

Lu Feng had just returned from outside, his stiff official robe covered with the cold wind and snow. Jiang Wanrou, without any hesitation, clung tightly to his waist, also blocking the lecture that Lu Feng was about to deliver.

Her dark, smooth hair fell down, resting against her fair cheeks. Jiang Wanrou had just woken up, her sleepy eyes dark and moist, her whole body curled up in Lu Feng's arms, looking up at him timidly.

Her gaze softened Lu Feng's heart.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, his large hand gently stroking her back, saying, "I'm here, don't be afraid."

Lu Feng's voice was deep, inexplicably reassuring. Jiang Wanrou gradually calmed down, burying her face in his chest, whispering, "Thank goodness, it was just a dream."

The dream was unsettling.

In a grand, golden hall, she knelt at the very front, with many faceless people behind her. Ahead was a golden nanmu coffin carved with dragon patterns, lined with ice bricks, and inside lay a man in black robes, lying quietly.

The man's skin was cold and pale, his body stiff. He seemed to harbor unresolved grievances and obsessions, his deep-set eyes wide open, unclosed in death.

Upon closer inspection, the man had sharp eyebrows and a high nose bridge, unmistakably resembling Lu Feng!

She was terrified, yet unable to control her actions in the dream. She knelt there dumbly, surrounded by the continuous sobbing of women. People came and went behind her, from day to night, the candles in the hall flickering, until suddenly, she was the only one left.

She rubbed her stiff knees and stood up. Someone outside called her "Madam," and she followed the voice out. Suddenly, she stopped, turned back, and hesitated for a long time, and with trembling hands, covered the eyes of the man in the coffin.

She closed his eyes for him.

...

Jiang Wanrou, still holding Lu Feng's waist, was filled with lingering fear. She whispered, "Husband, quickly take off your outer robe and come in to warm up."

He was very cold, reminding her of the icy, stiff sensation from her dream.

Lu Feng had originally intended to go to his study to handle official duties, but upon entering the mansion, he naturally came to her first. Since he was here, he didn't turn back, but came in to see her, only to find the mistress of the house sound asleep in broad daylight.

Early rising is the foundation of all success. Lu Feng had developed this habit since childhood, rising at mao hour (5-7 AM) even if he hadn't slept the night before, and as an official, he rose even earlier. Lu Feng followed his example, and in Lu Feng's eyes, this was the most basic diligence.

He was strict with himself and often harsh on others. But now, with his wife timidly clinging to his waist, her eyes filled with fear, he swallowed the admonishment on the tip of his tongue.

Jiang Wanrou lifted the brocade quilt; the bed was warm and cozy from her sleep, very comfortable. Lu Feng silently took off his outer robe but did not remove his boots to get into bed. Instead, he wrapped her in the quilt, leaving only a furry head exposed.

Jiang Wanrou asked in confusion, "Husband, aren't you coming in to sleep for a while?"

The dream had frightened her too much, or perhaps Lu Feng had been too gentle lately, Jiang Wanrou forgot to maintain her "virtuous" mistress demeanor in front of him and wanted to pull Lu Feng into the warm nest with her.

In the cold winter, with the howling wind outside, lying in a warm room, sleeping without a care, Jiang Wanrou was content.

Lu Feng paused, then said, "I still have official duties."

The beauty's embrace is the hero's grave. Lu Feng, having read history for years, knew that soft jade and warm fragrance could not erode his will.

"Oh."

Jiang Wanrou responded dejectedly, clinging to him tightly as if afraid he would leave.

For someone like Lu Feng, it was hard to imagine that someone could be so frightened by a fleeting dream. He patted Jiang Wanrou's back, gently asking her what she had dreamed about.

What one thinks about during the day, one dreams about at night. Whatever she feared, he would resolve it for her.

Jiang Wanrou sighed wistfully, "I dreamed that you died."

Lu Feng remained silent.

Jiang Wanrou seemed to have found an outlet to vent, vividly describing her dream. A single dream might not mean much, but she also recalled that during her childbirth, she faintly saw Lu Feng's tragic death. Upon closer reflection, they were wearing the same clothes!

This made Jiang Wanrou shiver.

Lu Feng listened with a blank expression as Jiang Wanrou narrated, at one point describing how he had been pierced with many bloody holes and died tragically in the desert, and at another, that she knelt to mourn him, babbling incoherently. If anyone else had told him this, he would have had them thrown out long ago.

After finishing, Jiang Wanrou thought for a moment and suddenly exclaimed, "I understand now!"

"This must be a warning from the heavens!"

Jiang Wanrou's eyes lit up as she looked at Lu Feng, "It must be, husband. You must never go to the desert again or wear dark clothes."

Lu Feng looked at her calmly and said earnestly, "Rou'er."

"Hmm?"

"Read fewer drama scripts from now on."

Though it seemed ridiculous, Jiang Wanrou was clearly frightened. Lu Feng comforted her, "Dreams are illusions, just reflections of your thoughts and worries. It's all just needless worry."

"If you're really scared, go to Huangjue Temple tomorrow, offer incense, and ask the master to drive away the evil spirits."

Lu Feng had never believed in such mystical things, but if it could calm her, there was no harm in going.

Like most people, Jiang Wanrou deeply revered gods and spirits. She nodded eagerly, "Yes, I was thinking the same. If you're not too busy, come with me."

She wanted to pray for Lu Feng's well-being. If he didn't go himself, how could the Bodhisattva and Buddha see his sincerity and bless him?

Lu Feng sighed helplessly, "I have official business."

Jiang Wanrou knew it was futile.

She sighed softly, her thoughts racing, "Then how about this, why don't you give me something of yours—"

"Rou'er."

Lu Feng deftly changed the subject, "Perhaps we have a past life connection."

"Oh? How so?"

Lu Feng looked at Jiang Wanrou's puzzled expression and asked, "Do you remember the story I read to you when you were pregnant?"

Jiang Wanrou chuckled awkwardly. Back then, with her big belly, she had been bold and mischievous, playing many pranks on Lu Feng. He disliked drama scripts, but she insisted he read them to her.

In the end, it was a case of mutual harm. Lu Feng read the melodramatic scripts so dryly that Jiang Wanrou nearly lost her taste for them.

Lu Feng had an exceptional memory. Though he disliked them, he still remembered one small story, which went something like this:

A scholar and a young lady were betrothed, but later the lady married a traveling merchant. The scholar, unable to bear the blow, fell gravely ill. Then, a wandering monk appeared and showed the scholar a mirror.

In the mirror, the lady lay naked in a grave. A hunter passed by, shook his head, and left. Then came the scholar, who covered the lady with a piece of clothing, hesitated for a moment, and also left. Finally, a traveling merchant arrived, dug a grave for the lady, and carefully buried her.

The monk said to the scholar, "Every action has its consequence. The lady met you in this life only to repay the kindness of the clothing you gave her. The person she must repay in the end is the merchant who buried her, who is her husband in this life."

The scholar had a sudden epiphany, and his illness improved significantly. The lady and the merchant shared a life of love and happiness, culminating in a perfect ending.

...

Lu Feng initially intended to distract Jiang Wanrou, but by the end, he became deeply convinced and declared firmly, "We must have been husband and wife in a past life, continuing our bond in this life."

He recalled Jiang Wanying's ramblings and found them utterly absurd! If past-life spouses truly existed, it had to be him and her; otherwise, why would she only dream of him and not someone like Pei Zhang?

Lu Feng narrowed his eyes and abruptly asked, "Have you... dreamed of anyone else?"

Jiang Wanrou, unaware of his implication, replied honestly, "There are quite a few people... but I can't see their faces clearly."

Only Lu Feng's face was clearly visible.

Lu Feng nodded approvingly, "Exactly, our marital bond is heaven-ordained; no need to fret over it."

Jiang Wanrou was baffled by his logic. She dreamed of his tragic death, how did it turn into "a bond destined by heaven"?

She timidly suggested, "Perhaps I did you a kindness in a past life? You ought to repay your benefactor properly."

After all, in the dream, he died with his eyes open, and it was she who closed them for him.

Lu Feng chuckled, "That’s not out of the question."

Drawing from these two vague dreams, Jiang Wanrou, being 'well-read,' spun a web of karmic connections. Lu Feng, skeptical of such notions, humored her, and after a while, Jiang Wanrou gradually calmed down from the fright of her dream.

As her senses returned, Jiang Wanrou pulled the blanket tightly around herself and explained, "I was just having a nightmare, usually... I am very diligent."

Lu Feng gave a soft chuckle but didn’t respond to her remark. Seeing that Jiang Wanrou was fine, he rubbed her head, put on his clothes, and went to the study.

Alone in bed, Jiang Wanrou suddenly recalled that he had called her—“Rou'er”?

This was the second time he called her “Rou'er,” the first time was not long ago in bed. Before, he only called her “lady.”

The Hongluo charcoal crackled in the room, making Jiang Wanrou feel uncomfortably warm. She reached out and touched her cheeks, which were indeed burning.

"Cuizhu—"

She licked her lips and instructed, "Remove one brazier and prepare a pot of cool tea for me."

Earlier, Lu Feng had disrobed, leaving her mouth dry, and now even their conversation made her heart flutter.

How strange.

Jiang Wanrou was resolute and abhorred delays. Unsettled by the dream, she set off for the temple the next day in a grand procession, as Lu Feng had suggested, to the Huangjue Temple.

***

"Huangjue Temple," as its name implies, was a temple exclusively for the royal family, but now Lu Feng's status was somewhat ambiguous. Jiang Wanrou, ever cautious, wouldn’t risk causing trouble for him at such a delicate time, so she went to the famous Huiguang Temple outside the capital.

Jiang Wanrou was a benevolent and generous benefactor. The portly abbot beamed at her like Maitreya Buddha. Most noblewomen in the capital adhered to Buddhism, and even those who didn’t would commission a Buddha statue and transcribe Buddhist scriptures annually to display their 'piety and virtue.' Jiang Wanrou was not short of money and donated a lot of incense money to various temples in the capital every year, enough to regild the Buddha statues several times.

To accommodate the esteemed guest, the temple cleared the grounds and closed for the day, not allowing ordinary worshippers and idlers to approach. Monks, being men, prompted Jiang Wanrou to bring ample guards, maids, and elderly women to avoid any scandalous rumors.

To demonstrate her devotion, Jiang Wanrou bathed and donned modest attire before her visit, choosing a simple jacket and skirt from her luxurious wardrobe, and found a wooden hairpin to tie her hair. Her cheeks were free of makeup, her skin snow-white, beautiful yet exuding the gentleness of a lady.

Huiguang Temple was a famous large temple, and the golden statue of Buddha in the main hall shone brightly. Jiang Wanrou respectfully offered three sticks of incense and generously donated five thousand taels of silver to the temple.

She hinted, "I see that Buddha is not short of incense, but there are not many young monks in the temple."

The abbot hurriedly took off the rosary from his neck and bowed, saying, "The donor is compassionate and kind."

Poor families, unable to make ends meet, send their children to become monks, and more often, old monks go begging at the foot of the mountain, picking up abandoned infants that others do not want. Monks are also human, needing to eat, drink, and attend to their basic needs. If not for their tight finances, how could they not want to save more children?

Jiang Wanrou smiled; she wasn't a savior, but she believed that the donations for incense, rather than being used to gild the already resplendent Buddha, could be better spent on practical deeds, such as turning into warm clothes or bread to fill stomachs.

This winter was unusually harsh, and rice prices had soared. Although Jiang Wanrou lived in luxury at the duke's residence, she knew that for ordinary people, this winter would be a tough one.

After donating the money, Jiang Wanrou drew three lots in the temple, all of which were the best. She chuckled and teased, "Did the abbot know I was coming and changed all the lots in the tube beforehand?"

The abbot, who resembled the Maitreya Buddha, immediately restrained his smile, clasped his hands together, and said, "Amitabha, in front of the Buddha, this humble monk dares not lie."

"The meaning of the lot is the direction of heaven's will. An auspicious dragon brings blessings to the heavens, wealth and prosperity abound, and blessings are full. Madam, this is a sign of great wealth and nobility."