By the time Huo Liuxing returned to the bedroom, it was already deep into the second watch of the night. As he entered, he saw Shen Lingzhen slumped sideways on the bed in her underclothes, clutching a scroll in her arms. Her head bobbed like a pecking chick, nodding off bit by bit, until it suddenly dropped and knocked against the spine of the book, and she was jolted awake.
She let out a soft “Ow,” rubbing her sore chin with sleepy fingers. After a moment of dazed rubbing, she finally noticed someone else in the room, standing quietly by the five-paneled screen, watching her from the shadows.
Startled, Shen Lingzhen scrambled toward the corner of the bed. Only when she looked closely past the screen did she realize who it was, and let out a breath of relief. “Young Master?”
Most of Huo Liuxing’s body was hidden behind the screen. From her angle, she could only see half his face and one eye. Dressed in plain white nightclothes and wearing an unusually solemn expression, his silent gaze gave off an eerie chill. No wonder she’d been frightened.
Huo Liuxing wheeled himself forward, his voice flat and steady. “If you’re tired, why aren’t you asleep?”
“You said you’d come by later,” she replied, “so I waited for you.”
He cast her a glance, his expression indifferent. “I only said it in passing. Must you take every word so seriously?”
Shen Lingzhen keenly sensed his coldness and asked cautiously, “Husband, are you upset? Is it because of the Fourth Prince bribing the servants in the manor?” But even as she spoke, she shook her head, doubting herself.
No, he hadn’t been like this in the study earlier. Thinking it over, she, just a bystander, had needed time to recover from the shock, but he, the one who had actually killed someone, seemed to treat it as a trivial matter.
It must be someone important, something serious, to affect him this deeply.
Huo Liuxing didn’t respond. He climbed into bed and said only, “Sleep.” Then fell silent.
Had she been treated so coldly at Huo Shuyi’s place, Shen Lingzhen would never have pressed further. But Huo Liuxing had never been this distant with her before. She instinctively felt he was troubled, and believed that as his wife, she ought to comfort him. So she quietly inched closer and whispered, “Husband, shall I tell you something amusing?”
Huo Liuxing kept his eyes closed and said nothing.
So Shen Lingzhen continued on her own, “I once read in a historical text that during the Great Zhou dynasty, there was a Minister Lu who couldn’t stand asymmetry or disorder. One time during court, an official stepped slightly out of line from the perfectly straight ranks. Minister Lu was so uncomfortable that he had everyone pass the message down the line, telling that man to stand properly. The Emperor was in the middle of speaking and got annoyed by the murmuring below. He demanded to know what was going on. Minister Lu stepped forward, completely composed, and solemnly explained the matter of the misaligned official. The Emperor didn’t punish him, instead, he scolded the poor official!”
She chuckled at the end of the story, but Huo Liuxing remained motionless, eyes shut, not even a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Frowning in frustration, she thought for a moment and added, “Oh, and what’s funnier is that Minister Lu, who initially couldn’t stand that official, later willingly married his sister! Some say that’s what they call… ‘Even heroes fall before beauty.’ The more you resist, the harder you fall.”
Just as she finished speaking, Huo Liuxing’s eyes snapped open. His face was dark with anger as he stared at her. “Can you be quiet for a moment?”
Startled by his outburst, Shen Lingzhen’s smile vanished. “Oh,” she murmured, shrinking into the corner of the bed, clutching the blanket with a pitiful expression.
Then, from beside her, came a low, cold laugh. “A hero who can’t even resist a beauty, what kind of hero is that? A true man of valor would never follow in his footsteps.”
Shen Lingzhen tilted her head and gave him a puzzled look. Why was he angry? She was merely stating facts, she hadn’t said anyone would follow in those footsteps.
Feeling aggrieved, she turned her back and lay down to sleep. But the fright she’d suffered earlier in the day stirred unease in her dreams.
As Huo Liuxing watched her drift off, she began, just like last time, to flail her hands in the air as if struggling against something invisible.
He considered ignoring it, but her breathing grew more and more labored, and her long black hair was soaked with sweat. With a sigh, he leaned over, bracing one hand on the bed and using the other to gently seize her hand and pat it, reluctantly.
Shen Lingzhen jolted awake.
He frowned, looking down at her. “What’s wrong?”
She let out a startled cry, grabbed the quilt, and scrambled toward the foot of the bed. Her injured foot hadn’t fully healed, and the sudden movement made her twist it again. She winced in pain.
Huo Liuxing lifted the quilt, his brows furrowing into a deep crease. He followed her and took hold of her foot to examine it.
Shen Lingzhen sat there, breathing heavily for a long moment before finally calming down. She exhaled deeply. “So it was just a dream…”
After confirming her foot was unharmed, Huo Liuxing let go and looked up. “What was it? Another nightmare?”
She nodded, but her gaze darted away, avoiding his eyes. Her hands fumbled up to her neck, as if checking for damage.
He glanced at her. “Don’t tell me you dreamed I was strangling you?”
Shen Lingzhen gasped. “How did you know? Was it real just now…”
“I’ve got nothing better to do than waste my strength on that? What are you feeling guilty about? If you behaved properly and stayed by my side, why would I trouble you? Clearly, you did something in your dream that wronged me.”
She swallowed nervously. “I… I dreamed I told someone your secret. You got angry and locked me in a dark room, tied me up, and pinned me to the bed…”
Huo Liuxing’s eyelid twitched, his expression briefly awkward. “Pinned you to the bed and then?”
“Then you crushed me like Mount Tai, saying you’d grind me into minced meat!”
“…”
Huo Liuxing gave a cool “Oh,” as if to say the plot was coherent and logically sound.
Shen Lingzhen muttered under her breath, “Husband would treat me like that…”
Huo Liuxing, both amused and exasperated, replied, “And I’m to blame for what happens in your dreams? If we’re keeping score, how should I account for you betraying me to others?”
Shen Lingzhen rubbed her nose and murmured, “I heard that dreams are always the opposite of reality. So that must mean I’ll never betray you.”
He raised an eyebrow and patted the bed. “Enough. Go back to sleep.”
She crawled back from the foot of the bed and lay down quietly. But this time, sleep eluded her. She stared nervously at the canopy overhead for a long while.
Huo Liuxing could tell from her breathing that she hadn’t fallen asleep. After a moment, he opened his eyes and sighed. “Get up. I’ll press the acupoints on your foot.”
But Shen Lingzhen shrank back, looking troubled. “No need to trouble yourself. If you truly care for me, perhaps…”
“Hmm?”
“I was just thinking… could you sleep somewhere else tonight? With you beside me, I don’t dare close my eyes…”
“…”
At that moment, any man with pride would have stormed out in indignation.
But Huo Liuxing couldn’t. He simply got into his wheelchair and rolled himself to the study.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to sleep, Kongqing and Jingmo had no choice but to stay up with him, nodding off as they kept him company under the lamplight.
Toward the latter half of the night, Huo Liuxing finally set down his book and noticed the food box that had sat there since morning. He frowned and instructed Kongqing, “Throw it out.”
“Young Master, that’s the lychee syrup water Young Madam made for you herself.”
“So?”
“Well… you may not care about disappointing her, but lychees are quite precious. Our household isn’t exactly wealthy, wasting it would be a shame…”
Jingmo chimed in, “Don’t listen to him. That syrup isn’t made from real lychees. It’s brewed from black plums, cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves, it just mimics the flavor.”
Huo Liuxing turned sharply. “So you’re saying she used a fake substitute because she couldn’t afford the real thing?”
“She likely had lychees back in Bianjing, but now…”
Before Jingmo could finish, Huo Liuxing let out a cold snort. “Has the Huo household fallen so low? It’s the season for southern lychees, send someone to fetch the real ones.”
Kongqing was alarmed. “Young Master, please don’t try to swell your face up by slapping it to look imposing[mfn]idiom – to seek to impress by feigning more than one’s abilities[/mfn] —don’t…”
But one sharp glance from Huo Liuxing silenced him instantly. He quickly corrected himself, “Understood. I’ll have someone take care of it first thing tomorrow. And this fake one…”
Huo Liuxing didn’t respond.
Kongqing glanced at Jingmo: So… do we toss it or not?
Jingmo shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t dare ask.”
The nightmare from that night left a lingering shadow over Shen Lingzhen. Coincidentally, Huo Liuxing had also grown distant for reasons unknown. The two, in silent agreement, began sleeping in separate rooms over the next few days.
But with so few people in the Huo household to begin with, Shen Lingzhen soon found herself growing bored.
Fortunately, there was another girl in the house just as bored as she was.
On the night Huo Shuyi was punished, Shen Lingzhen had sent over a box of rare ointments from the Duke’s manor. Because of this thoughtful gesture, Huo Miaoling grew even fonder of her Sister-in-law. With her Elder Sister bedridden and no one to talk to, she began visiting Shen Lingzhen’s courtyard regularly to pass the time.
The two shared a genuine interest in calligraphy and painting. Huo Miaoling had gifted Shen Lingzhen a set of fine writing tools the day after she entered the manor, and eagerly asked to be taught how to paint and write. From morning till night, they were happily absorbed in their lessons.
One morning, Huo Miaoling came bouncing in, clutching a piece of calligraphy she’d written by lamplight the night before.
It was a copy of the plum blossom script Shen Lingzhen had given her, a style commonly used by young ladies. After several days of practice, her progress was evident. Shen Lingzhen praised her, and Miaoling, glowing with pride, pulled out another sheet with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sister-in-law, I found this piece in my Elder Sister’s room last night. It’s a poem written by Second Brother. I couldn’t resist and tried copying it too. What do you think, did I do well?”
Shen Lingzhen took the sheet and examined it. The semi-cursive script was decent, but it looked nothing like the handwriting she remembered from Huo Liuxing.
She wasn’t one to flatter or lie. “You’ve done well copying my style. But you’re still young, if you want to emulate your Second Brother’s writing, you’re missing both the spirit and the form.”
Huo Miaoling nodded gloomily, then puffed up with a hint of defiance. “But Sister-in-law, even if I didn’t capture the ‘spirit,’ I think I got the ‘form’ pretty close. Look, here’s the original piece from Second Brother.”
She pulled another sheet from the pile of rice paper.
Shen Lingzhen smiled and shook her head, but when she looked where Miaoling pointed and froze.
This handwriting… was completely different from the one on the silk handkerchief she’d seen before.
Author’s note: Didn’t expect that, did you, Miss Shen? Huo the Wolf strikes again.
TLs note: Pinned her to the bed, huh? 👀
