Chapter 28

Chapter 28

In early autumn, the occasional cicada chirps still lingered, and moonlight drifted with the clouds. Pei Yue stepped through the quiet night back to the Hall of Sincerity and Perseverance. Rounding the spirit wall, his gaze fell upon the warm, golden lamplight spilling from the windows of the main chamber.

Pei Yue walked along the covered walkway. The maids in the courtyard bowed silently upon seeing him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. Just as he was about to continue forward, someone suddenly spoke: "Reporting to the Heir, today the Heir's Lady took over Sister Hong Ying's duties and spoke with her for quite some time."

Hong Ying? Pei Yue recalled that his mother had mentioned his attendants might lack meticulousness, so she had assigned him a maid named Hong Ying to manage trivial matters.

Pei Yue nodded and glanced at the speaking maid. She kept her eyes lowered, appearing obedient and proper, as if reporting domestic matters to him—despite his having a wife—was her rightful duty.

"Hmm." Pei Yue responded indifferently. The maid couldn't decipher his meaning and felt slightly disappointed. Just as she was about to retreat with her companion, she suddenly heard him ask, "What is your name?"

Her heart leaped, and she opened her mouth to answer, but Pei Yue had already frowned. "Forget it." He gestured to the maid beside her and said lightly, "Tomorrow, inform the Heir's Lady to have the Madam select someone else to replace her duties."

With that, he turned away.

Now that he had a wife, such matters naturally fell under her purview.

Behind him, the maid abruptly raised her head in disbelief, about to cry out in plea. But the maid beside her, Qing Yu, who deeply regretted walking with her and hadn’t realized her hidden intentions, clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered urgently, "The Heir has already spoken. Do you really want the Heir's Lady to know what you just said? If you want to die, I don’t!"

A muffled sob came from beneath her palm before the maid finally gave up struggling. Qing Yu looked at her crumpled companion with disdain. "You had ulterior motives, yet you dragged the Heir's Lady and Sister Hong Ying into it. I never realized you were this kind of person."

Even if the Heir's Lady bore no grudge against Hong Ying, who knew how she might react upon hearing someone had made such reports to the Heir? She’d have to warn Hong Ying later.

By then, Pei Yue had already ascended the steps, crossed the threshold, and entered the retiring room.

Upon entering, he sensed something different. Upon closer inspection, he realized that in just a day, the room had transformed.

Most of the red wedding decorations had been removed, replaced by a large carpet with a passionflower pattern. A plain celadon flower vase stood by the window, holding a vibrant, unidentified bloom.

A small embroidered screen depicting a cat playing with an embroidered ball sat on the heated brick bed-table, alongside a half-finished cup of tea. Some familiar furnishings had been rearranged.

This was the room he had grown up in, yet Ming Tang had altered it so subtly that it now felt strangely unfamiliar—and unexpectedly warm.

Laughter drifted from the inner chamber. Pei Yue lightly knocked on the lattice partition door before pushing it open. The laughter and chatter ceased instantly. He looked up to see Ming Tang, already washed and dressed for bed, reclining against the headboard. Two unfamiliar maids stood by the bed, curtseyed nervously toward him.

Ming Tang’s smile lingered as she met his gaze, her eyes bright under the candlelight. "Ah, the Heir has returned?"

She made to rise, but Pei Yue motioned for her to stay. "No need. I’ll wash up first."

Ming Tang settled back, and the maids resumed their positions—one sitting on the footstool, the other leaning against the bedpost, lazily waving a fan.

Behind the screen, in the anteroom, Pei Yue could still hear the women’s laughter. Someone seemed to have cracked a joke.

Had he interrupted them?

After washing up, he returned to find the two maids gone. Only Ming Tang remained, leaning against the headboard with a book in hand, reading intently.

Hearing his approach, she calmly closed the book and tucked it beside the bed with graceful ease. Pei Yue’s sharp eyes couldn’t even catch its title.

Hadn’t Ming Tang been reading in bed yesterday as well?

Truly a woman raised in a scholarly household—never without a book, even before sleep.

He sat by the window on the long couch and was about to speak when Ming Tang slipped out of bed. Her loose inner robe, illuminated by the candlelight on the bedside table, faintly revealed the silhouette beneath. Pei Yue was momentarily speechless, quickly averting his gaze.

A light, soothing fragrance drifted past. When he turned back, Ming Tang stood by the table, pouring a cup of warm water and placing it beside him before returning to her seat. "Might I discuss something with the Heir?"

What matter required such ceremony? Pei Yue was puzzled.

From what he’d seen, Ming Tang had handled everything with natural grace since her arrival. During the morning’s family introductions, she’d been serene and self-possessed. Returning in the evening, she’d made him feel like the newcomer in his own home.

Yet, moments ago, someone had stopped him with insinuating remarks. Perhaps Ming Tang wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.

When Pei Yue remained silent, Ming Tang assumed he was waiting for her to continue. "I’ve heard the west wing houses the Heir’s private study. Might I use it as well?"

Wary of disturbing any confidential documents, Ming Tang had avoided the study while directing the household’s rearrangements earlier.

Just the study? Pei Yue felt an inexplicable twinge of disappointment. For a moment, he’d thought she might bring up Hong Ying...

"Use it as you wish. There’s nothing confidential there. If you’d like, you may reorganize it—just ensure my belongings are kept safe."

Her territory now doubled, Ming Tang flashed him a bright smile, fingers tapping the table in barely suppressed pleasure.

Absorbed in planning her new territory, she barely noticed Pei Yue until he spoke again.

"...Hong Ying’s father was once my elder brother’s guard. After being injured, he could no longer serve effectively but refused to take idle pay, so he sent his daughter to work in the household. Later, the Madam assigned her to me, believing maids were more attentive."

Ming Tang hadn’t expected Pei Yue to learn of her conversation with Hong Ying so quickly. As a newcomer, she lacked the legendary charisma to command instant respect.

She’d have to find out who was reporting to him.

Just then, Pei Yue concluded, "I hold no special regard for Hong Ying."

Ming Tang paused. Given his awkwardness the previous night, she didn’t doubt his words. With his status, had he been interested, he’d have had ample "practice."

Yet his candid admission stirred something in her. She looked up to see Pei Yue sitting rigidly, water still dripping from his hair, undermining his solemn air.

Smothering a smile, she fetched a thick towel and draped it over his head, gently drying his hair.

Pei Yue stiffened at the unexpected gesture. The gentle but firm pressure guided him to bow his head as Ming Tang remarked, "The Heir’s hair is truly splendid."

Given how carelessly he treated it, she doubted he pampered it as she did hers. Yet it rivaled hers in quality—pure innate quality.

Once his hair was mostly dry, she handed him a smooth boxwood comb. "You may finish yourself." Helping him had already tired her wrists.

The boxwood comb landed in his palm, warm and smooth, but where her fingers had brushed sent a peculiar thrill through him. As he combed his hair, his gaze lingered on Ming Tang, now back in bed.

Silence settled, broken only by the soft rustle of pages turning.

As night grew deeper, for newlyweds, certain things came naturally. Recalling the previous night, Ming Tang hesitated but concluded she couldn’t avoid it forever.

Her touch guided Pei Yue, who shuddered but understood her intent. His pride was wounded—he’d thought he’d done well yesterday.

Yet, following her lead, she seemed more engaged this time.

An apt pupil, Pei Yue improved rapidly. Afterward, as he moved to wash up, Ming Tang, drawn by his appeal, yielded to temptation once more.

Exhausted, she slept late and was roused the next morning by Wen He.

The morning routine mirrored the previous day’s, but as she dressed and sat for breakfast, Pei Yue returned from his martial practice.

Seated across from him, Ming Tang found him even more radiant than yesterday. Distracted, she ate more than intended.

Setting down her chopsticks, she discreetly rubbed her stomach, blaming Pei Yue’s presence for her uncharacteristic overeating—though the chef’s skill certainly helped. The millet porridge was perfectly sweet, the shrimp dumplings exquisite...

Oblivious, Pei Yue glanced at the table after finishing.

So, Ming Tang liked shrimp?