Chapter 34 - Marriage

  Song Chaoxi was a little puzzled as to why he came. In fact, Rong Jing himself didn’t quite understand either. Perhaps it was because her expression was off when she left, and when the secret guard reported it, he took note. Or perhaps it was simply because he felt he ought to accompany her—after all, he hadn’t gone with her for the traditional third-day return to her parental home. A married wife returning home alone would be looked down upon. Originally, he came to show due respect to the Marquis's residence, but when he saw the servants under Shen shi’s command act out, an unspeakable anger rose in him—along with a kind of protectiveness.

  This kind of emotion was very unfamiliar to him. A few days ago, he had heard from his mother that Song Chaoxi had asked to marry him, and he had guessed then that she must have had a hard time at home. But the truth turned out to be even more infuriating. Even though they hadn’t truly consummated their marriage, based on the grace she had shown him, and her title as the wife of a duke, she should never be humiliated like this. No one had dared treat her badly in the Duke’s household—what did the Marquis's household amount to? How dare Shen shi treat her this way!

  “You should be tougher in the future. Don’t let others bully you like this again.”

  Just now, his expression had been so grim it scared her a little, but he had now calmed down. Song Chaoxi lowered her head and chuckled softly, “Understood. I do have the Duke backing me after all.”

  She was teasing him, and Rong Jing smiled faintly. Then he heard her say, “By the way, how does it feel to be a duke? Most people kneel when they see you, and you can make life hard for others at will, right?”

  Rong Jing chuckled, “Forget kneeling. Who can I make life hard for, really?”

  “Huh? You don’t enjoy that? I was hoping you’d make things hard for my father.”

  Rong Jing thought, with Song Fengmao’s low rank, it wasn’t even worth his effort. That would be an insult. But if she wanted it, picking faults with Song Fengmao wouldn’t be difficult.

  Thinking about today’s events, Song Chaoxi felt a warm softness in her heart. Even if he hadn’t come, she had her own pns and wouldn’t have suffered any losses. In fact, she would’ve made Shen shi regret everything she did. But his arrival had resolved everything without her lifting a finger, leaving Song Fengmao and Shen shi trembling in fear to serve her, which was immensely satisfying. It was a skill to shelter oneself from wind and rain, but if someone was willing to offer you shelter, there was no need to refuse. Thinking of this, Song Chaoxi tugged at his sleeve and looked at him with gleaming eyes, her lips curved in a smile, “My lord duke, thank you for standing up for me today.”

  Rong Jing’s gaze nded on her fair hands, and he found them small and endearing when curled up. Her voice was soft and sweet, with that unique gentleness of southern women, like she was acting coquettish. Paired with her radiant beauty, it was a truly irresistible charm.

  —

  The next day, Song Chaoyan rode a carriage to the outskirts to meet with some Jianghu (wandering martial) figures. This was a move she had no choice but to make to save her life. According to her pn, these people—whom she had paid handsomely—would kidnap Song Chaoxi. Doctor Xue would extract her blood, and then she would disappear with Song Chaoxi. Once she recovered her health, she would return.

  Just as she was thinking, the carriage suddenly stopped. Song Chaoyan frowned, “Why have we stopped?”

  The curtain was abruptly lifted. Before she could react, pain shot through her shoulder—and she lost consciousness.

  When Song Chaoyan woke up to find herself bound by her own sister and gagged with a rag, she was devastated.

  Even worse, Song Chaoxi had disguised herself as her, sitting in the carriage, following a familiar route to Shen's dowry residence. She even mimicked her, weakly clutching a handkerchief and softly calling, “Sister…”

  They already looked identical. Song Chaoxi had paled her face, painted her lips colorless, changed into a light-colored dress, and applied medicine scent to her body. She was the spitting image of her. Song Chaoyan felt chilled to the bone. What was Song Chaoxi trying to do? Swap identities with her? But today was supposed to be the day for blood extraction—did that mean she herself would be the one bled now? Her heart sank.

  She screamed for Song Chaoxi to let her go, but Song Chaoxi merely gnced at her red-stained fingers and smiled slightly, “I heard extracting heart blood is extremely painful. I, as the honorable wife of a duke, delicate and precious, really can’t bear it. Why don’t you experience it for me, dear sister?”

  Song Chaoyan’s eyes bulged in disbelief. Song Chaoxi wanted Doctor Xue to extract her blood? No! She’d heard it was terribly painful—that the needle was palm-length. Her body was already frail. After this, she’d lose half her life. But no matter how she struggled, Song Chaoxi didn’t even gnce at her.

  The residence was within the capital—a three-courtyard house. They passed through the decorated gates and entered the main hall. Doctor Xue, dressed in a blue brocade robe, was already seated inside.

  It was Song Chaoxi’s first time seeing the legendary Doctor Xue. She’d dreamed of him in the storybook—yet here he was, masked and faceless, unsettling. Speaking through that mask, one couldn’t tell if he was man or monster. Though Song Chaoyan and Rong Heng were detestable, Doctor Xue, this accomplice, was even more fearsome. He had no ethics, only committed cruel and inhumane acts. He was a disgrace to the medical profession.

  Doctor Xue: “You brought your sister?”

  Song Chaoxi coughed weakly, “She refused to let me take her blood. I had no choice but to bring her this way. My sister is very cunning—so to prevent any mishap, I had to bind her. Please proceed quickly, Doctor Xue.”

  A crazed gleam fshed in Doctor Xue’s eyes. His apprentice brought over the instruments. Without dey, Doctor Xue jabbed a palm-length needle into Song Chaoyan’s chest under her terrified gaze. The first attempt failed. He withdrew the needle and stabbed again. The second attempt also failed. By the seventh time, her chest was riddled with puncture marks before the blood finally began to flow. Song Chaoyan’s chest throbbed with intense pain, her face twisted in agony. Song Chaoxi watched coldly from the side, emotionless, like a detached observer.

  When it was done, Song Chaoxi gnced at the heart blood and coughed softly, then stared silently at Song Chaoyan: “Does it hurt?”

  Song Chaoyan gred at her in pain, eyes welling with tears.

  Song Chaoxi scoffed, “Of course it hurts. Heart blood extraction isn’t meant to be painless. Now you know how terrible it feels. But pain isn’t all—this needle is thick. Your chest won’t heal soon. It may even leave a scar. What a pity—you’re so beautiful, and you have someone you like. What will you do on your wedding night?”

  Song Chaoyan gred hatefully, but Song Chaoxi giggled behind her hand, “Sister, don’t look at me like that. You’re scaring me. If you keep staring, I’ll blindfold you.”

  Song Chaoyan was unfazed and continued gring. Song Chaoxi, annoyed, waved her hand and said to Fang Qian, “Cover her eyes. I hate being stared at.”

  Fang Qian expressionlessly replied, “No cloth.”

  Song Chaoxi paused, looked at him, and said, “Then take off your socks and use them. There’s always a solution! We must learn to solve problems!”

  Fang Qian smiled faintly and left to carry it out.

  If looks could kill, Song Chaoyan would’ve murdered Song Chaoxi ten thousand times already.

  Doctor Xue pced the blood in a long, tube-like container and coldly instructed his apprentice to boil the medicine.

  Song Chaoxi, supported by her maid, sat across from him and coughed again behind her hand. “Doctor Xue, I had to tie my sister up this time. What if she disobeys again next time? Do you have a better method?”

  Doctor Xue wordlessly took out a bottle. “This is a poison I just made. Give it to your sister. Before each extraction, give her the antidote three days prior. That way, her blood won’t be toxic and can be used for your treatment.”

  Song Chaoxi blinked, handed the bottle to her maid. Later, the maid brought tea. Song Chaoxi smiled, “Doctor Xue, I really must thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t know what to do. May I ask you a question?”

  Xue Lingchun lifted his teacup and said, “Ask.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  Xue Lingchun was silent for a moment before replying, “Just think of it as me having nothing better to do.”

  Song Chaoxi raised an eyebrow and took a sip from her cup, then asked again, “Doctor Xue, what kind of reaction will the body have after taking this poison? My sister wouldn’t be able to get someone to create an antidote for it, would she?”

  Xue Lingchun took a sip of tea and shook his head. “At first, the person will feel itchy all over. Then, they’ll experience a burning pain, like being scorched by sunlight. As the pain deepens, the illness will penetrate the bone marrow and become completely untreatable.”

  “What if my sister manages to find the antidote?”

  “Don’t worry,” Xue Lingchun said. “This poison was just developed by me. Even I would need several months to make an antidote.”

  Song Chaoxi nodded, then looked at Xue Lingchun and smiled. “Then, Doctor Xue, are you feeling any itching on your skin?”

  Xue Lingchun was stunned. Immediately afterward, a burning sensation, like being scorched by sunlight, surged over her—and it kept intensifying. She suddenly realized what had happened. “You—!”

  Staring at that eerie mask, Song Chaoxi said coldly, “Doctor Xue, pretending to be weak and pitiful really isn’t easy. Just to act like my sister today, I coughed dozens of times—almost hacked up a lung. But what’s strange is, diagnosis relies on observation, listening, questioning, and feeling. Listening means discerning from sound. I was so close to you, yet a so-called divine doctor couldn’t even tell that my coughs were fake. Ridiculous!”

  Doctor Xue was stunned. “I just wasn’t paying attention. And even if I didn’t notice, what can you do?”

  Song Chaoxi sneered. This so-called renowned doctor couldn’t even tell a real cough from a fake one? “And you call yourself a physician? A true doctor fights time with the King of Hell to save lives, every second counts. You don’t save lives—instead, you use your medical skills to harm people. What kind of doctor does that? You wanted to poison me? Then I’ll let you taste what it feels like. Let’s see how you like being poisoned.”

  Xue Lingchun struggled, but the pain overwhelmed her and she had no strength to resist. Fang Qian stepped up to restrain her. Song Chaoxi walked over and tore off the mask—and was stunned by what she saw.

  Doctor Xue… was a tall woman?

  How amusing. The legendary doctor who helped Song Chaoyan extract heart blood in the book was actually a woman. In this world, it was already so hard for women—oppressed and cornered by men—and now even women were turning on women? Song Chaoxi, angry and puzzled, wondered about this Doctor Xue. Could she have worn the mask, like a woman disguising herself as a man, just to practice medicine? But if she was truly devoted to saving lives, why go so far as to poison others? This was someone with no boundaries. Song Chaoxi couldn’t even stand to look at her again—disgusted.

  She couldn’t be bothered to say another word. If it were up to her, she’d throw her off a cliff. But the ws of this dynasty were strict. Killing required paying with one’s life, and she couldn’t do something illegal—nor could she let Rong Jing be implicated. After some thought, she ordered Fang Qian to take both of them away and dump them somewhere.

  This time, Song Chaoyan suffered greatly. Song Chaoxi dumped her at a mass grave site. Terrified out of her mind, she barely made it home alive. Having just had her heart blood extracted, she was so weak that she felt like she might die at any moment. Her maid helped her anxiously as she y on the bed, her eyes hollow. She was full of unwillingness and confusion. She had pnned so carefully—how had Song Chaoxi seen through it and turned the tables? The pain in her chest reminded her of the humiliation she’d suffered that day.

  The scent of sandalwood in the room was almost suffocating. Song Chaoyan frowned and slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

  And this time, the moment she fell asleep—she started dreaming.

  The next morning, a luxurious carriage left Yongchun Marquis Manor.

  When Song Chaoxi heard that Song Chaoyan had made it back from the mass grave, she wasn’t surprised. After all, she was the female lead—she couldn’t possibly be tortured to death so easily. Sitting before her dressing mirror, Song Chaoxi yawned zily. Rong Jing had seemingly returned from morning training and had taken a bath in the cleansing room. A maid approached to help him dress, but he refused. The morning light came softly through the screen, and the room remained dim. In that half-darkness, Song Chaoxi felt his eyes looked even deeper and more unreadable.

  She noticed that Rong Jing didn’t like others serving him. Although he had guards, he never allowed anyone to assist with things like dressing. As his wife, she was technically the one who should be helping him change clothes—but she felt too awkward, as they weren’t close enough for that. She only snapped out of her thoughts when he finished dressing. Walking over, she took his pulse and officially decred his body fully recovered.

  Rong Jing already knew his condition, so he wasn’t surprised. But from that day on, he began going out frequently—often not returning the entire day. Song Chaoxi didn’t mind his absence. She had plenty to keep herself busy with just around the ke: fishing, picking peaches, tending fruit trees, pruning flowers. She even pnned to open up a flower garden nearby—but that kind of work needed the Duke’s approval.

  That night, as she drifted into sleep, she faintly felt the bed creak. Half-asleep, she murmured, “You’re back?”

  Rong Jing answered, “Did I wake you?”

  Since she had nothing urgent to do during the day, his concern made her feel a bit guilty. “I’m awake now anyway. I wanted to ask—you mind if I cultivate a flower garden at the end of the water corridor and pnt more along the keside?”

  “In the future, anything regarding the estate, just make the decision yourself. No need to ask me about everything.”

  Song Chaoxi yawned zily, tears glistening on her shes, her eyes still closed as she smiled faintly. “But you are the master of the house. I ought to report to you.”

  Her tone was teasing. Rong Jing’s eyes fshed with a hint of amusement. He sat on the bed, and as he lowered his gaze, he saw that as she shifted, her wide night robe slipped off her shoulder, revealing soft, pale skin like satin. She didn’t even notice, eyes closed, lips pursed slightly in sleep—charming yet nguid.

  She looked so slender, yet he hadn’t expected...

  He quickly looked away and averted his gaze.

  Still half-asleep, Song Chaoxi turned over again. Her hand unknowingly nded on his waist. Rong Jing opened his eyes slowly. Usually, she kept her distance and curled up against the far side of the bed. Only when asleep did she unconsciously lean closer. She was a restless sleeper, and his years on the battlefield had made his sleep extremely light—he’d wake at the slightest noise. There had been nights when enemy raids came, and it was his quick reflexes that saved lives. But in recent days, he’d gradually grown used to her presence. When she unconsciously snuggled closer, he no longer felt the need to guard himself.

  Whether that was good or bad—he wasn’t sure.

  Her chest pressed lightly against him through her thin robe. Rong Jing’s entire body stiffened. He sighed quietly to himself—how was he supposed to sleep like this?

  When Song Chaoxi woke up the next morning, Rong Jing was already gone. She entered the “Immortal Realm” garden, plucked a few immortal herbs, and chewed on them. Seeing her skin grow more supple and radiant, she finally called for her maid to come in.

  Qingzhu came in carrying a basin and smiled. “The Duke left at the hour of Mao (around 5–7 a.m.). I noticed dark circles under his eyes—it looked like he didn’t sleep well.”

  The hour of Mao? That meant he had only slept for less than two hours. No wonder he looked exhausted. Song Chaoxi yawned, realizing for the first time how truly busy he was. At his rank, every decision likely involved the fate of the entire empire—there was no room for error.

  Her husband really didn’t have it easy. He was busy enough, and now it seemed like he wasn’t sleeping well either. She thought maybe she should write him a prescription to help nourish his health.

  Song Chaoxi finalized the formu for her medicinal face powder and had the maids, Qingzhu and Dong'er, start using it. After observing their makeup throughout the day, she noticed the powder gave their faces a delicate, bright look that sted long without smudging. Though not as starkly white as traditional lead powder, it looked softer and more natural. After all, most women of the inner court didn’t need to apply heavy white makeup daily. Her powder, made mainly from herbs, was gentle and nourishing—simply wonderful.

  Just as she finished, she heard a startled voice: “Second Aunt, what are you doing?”

  Song Chaoxi smiled. She had just been wishing for someone to help her test the product—how convenient! “I’m making face powder.”

  “Powder? Pearl powder?” Rong Yuan, who had grown up pampered and well-dressed, was always at the forefront of noble fashion in the capital. She had used the finest face and lip powders avaible—everything used by the imperial concubines, she had used too. Being so familiar, she immediately recognized the pearl powder in Song Chaoxi’s blend.

  “Yes, the main ingredient is pearl powder,” Song Chaoxi replied, “but unlike others, mine includes many skin-nourishing herbs in specific proportions. It beautifies the skin while also treating it.”

  There were many powders on the market, but none that treated the skin medicinally. Rong Yuan had never heard of such a thing, and her interest was immediately piqued. “Can I try it?”

  That was exactly what Song Chaoxi was waiting for. She quickly stuffed the bottle into Rong Yuan’s hand as if afraid she’d change her mind, and said, “Here, try it for a few days and give me honest feedback. If it’s not good, I’ll tweak the formu.”

  Rong Yuan suddenly had the odd feeling that she was a naive little sheep voluntarily walking into a trap. Still, Second Aunt hadn’t offered the powder to others—only to her. Didn’t that mean Second Aunt trusted her? That she was special?

  She carefully tucked the white porcein bottle into her sleeve. “Got it, Auntie. I won’t let you down!”

  Song Chaoxi narrowed her eyes, gently patted her soft hair bun, and smiled. “My Yuan’er is the sweetest.”

  A strange emotion welled up in Rong Yuan’s heart. Auntie said my Yuan’er...

  It felt like an arrow had struck her heart—what was this sudden numb sensation in her chest?

  She even had an urge to hug her Second Aunt.

  So, when Rong Jing came downstairs, he saw Rong Yuan blushing and staring directly at Song Chaoxi.

  Meanwhile, his delicate little wife was leaning zily on the railing with one arm, eyes glimmering with mischief—she looked just like a charming schor trying to flirt with a pretty dy.

  Behind Rong Jing, Liang Eleven couldn’t help gncing at his general’s face.

  Upon seeing her elders, Rong Yuan quickly snapped back to her senses, bowed, and then ran off covering her face.

  Rong Jing was tall, wearing a dark robe and exuding a commanding presence. Standing above her on the stairs, he naturally gave off an overwhelming sense of authority. No wonder Rong Yuan had run off. Song Chaoxi ughed and asked, “You don’t look that scary, Duke. Why’d you frighten her off the moment you appeared?”

  Rong Jing’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “But you’re not afraid of me.”

  Song Chaoxi thought to herself: You’re not a monster—what’s there to be scared of?

  He gnced at her once and walked ahead. “Come with me.”

  She found his reaction a bit odd. Once inside, she noticed a clear tray on the table filled with plump peaches. These didn’t look like store-bought ones—they seemed freshly picked from a backyard tree.

  “These are…?”

  “They come from a forest up north. There used to be many trees, and every summer they’d drop fruit all over the ground. After the emperor gifted me this ke, many people came asking for the trees. I gave a few away—now only a handful remain.”

  Song Chaoxi completely understood why people would want them. These peaches were huge, red, and clearly a different variety from those sold in markets. Their vibrant color made them look especially tasty. She noticed a basket on the ground with smaller, less perfect peaches and asked, “Are those for gifting?”

  “Yes. The Emperor’s favored consort is pregnant. She sent a letter yesterday asking for peaches, so I had some sent to the pace.”

  Song Chaoxi couldn't help but ugh—so the peaches sent to the Emperor were smaller than the ones she got to eat. Her husband really was something. When she smiled, her eyes sparkled, and her entire face came alive, so much so it made one feel momentarily dazed.

  She picked up the reddest peach, took a bite with her rosy lips, and juice gushed out, dripping from the corners of her mouth. She dabbed it with a handkerchief. The peach was sweet and fragrant, just as she had expected—truly delicious. She picked up another and handed it to him, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he said, “If you’re bored, you can go pick peaches to pass the time.”

  Her eyes lit up even more. “Where? Will you take me?”

  He had already been considering it, and hearing her interest, a faint smile flickered in his eyes. He walked ahead, and she followed while munching on her peach. When they arrived, she discovered he hadn’t brought anyone else—it was just the two of them under the peach trees.

  The trees weren’t tall, but every branch was heavy with fruit, so full they sagged under the weight. Song Chaoxi pulled out a silk cloth and began picking the ripest, reddest ones, leaving the green ones to continue growing. It seemed no one in the Duke’s manor dared casually pick these peaches—there were no signs of harvesting, even on the lowest branches.

  She was happily picking, and soon had a full basket. After a while, she spotted one peach as big as two fists, but it was too high. She stood on tiptoe and tried a few times, all without success.

  Looking at the peach, then turning back to him with a teasing expression, she raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Duke?”

  Rong Jing lifted her from behind, and for a moment she was stunned by the sensation of being weightless. She had only meant for him to help her pick the peach—she hadn’t expected him to lift her up entirely. That day, she wore a sheer, smoky-colored robe. The two were close, and his warm breath brushed her waist through the thin fabric, making her feel hot and flushed.

  He didn’t have the overt muscurity of his military followers, but his arms were strong and steady. He held her easily, high and unmoving, without even a tremble.

  Suddenly, Song Chaoxi recalled that tely he was never around in the mornings. The maids had said he’d been training in the practice yard, sometimes with two generals. No wonder, even without her giving him immortality herbs, he looked even healthier than before.

  “Why aren’t you picking it?” he asked in a low voice.

  Snapping out of her daze, she quickly reached for the biggest peach and, after grabbing it, patted the back of his hand. “Duke, put me down.”

  Rong Jing didn’t put her down right away. When she looked at him in surprise, he finally lowered his gaze and gently set her down. He returned to his cold, proper demeanor. “Picked enough?”

  “Enough. Should we send some to Mother and the other households?”

  “I’ve already sent them in your name.”

  Song Chaoxi blinked in surprise.

  Before she knew it, grape season had arrived. Grapes tended to attract insects, so when the first bunch ripened, she didn’t feel like picking them herself and had the servants bring them instead. She peeled the grapes and chilled them in crushed ice. Sweet, sour, and refreshingly cold—they were delightful to eat.

  Wearing a light gauzy robe, eyes half-closed in contentment, she was enjoying herself when a maid suddenly came to report that the Old Madam had summoned her.

  Song Chaoxi paused, confused. She had been regurly paying her respects tely, and the Old Madam had always been kind, never asking her to serve by her side. This was the first time she had summoned her directly.

  When she arrived, she found that Rong Jing was already there. As she entered, he gnced at her from his seat in a round-back chair. Rong Heng stood respectfully before him, while the Old Madam was smiling as she spoke. When she saw Song Chaoxi, she beckoned her over and smiled.

  “Chaoxi, I was just about to tell you something. The Empress Dowager has bestowed a marriage. The heir will be getting married soon. You are his mother—this is something you’ll need to help manage.”

  Song Chaoxi froze and tried hard not to look at Rong Heng. He was getting married? Well, it made sense. Song Chaoyan had been quiet tely, and Rong Heng was the heir to the Duke’s household. Thanks to Rong Jing, matchmakers had nearly trampled the threshold trying to arrange a marriage for him. It was only natural he would eventually marry.

  Still… the male lead was just going to abandon the female lead like this? Song Chaoxi couldn’t help but find it all a bit unbelievable.