Shi Ting smiled. “Everything is entirely in my wife’s hands.”

He then raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Whenever you need your husband, just say the word.”

He knew he could protect her, but he could not cover every angle — especially in the inner quarters of the household. What she could handle on her own, he would entrust to her with peace of mind. Whatever lay beyond her reach, he would step in to settle.

Shi Ting had been given a few days off for the wedding, though even those days were not entirely stable. If anything came up at the Military Police Department, he would still need to go in. Fortunately, the Department managed well on its own and did not drag the newlywed groom away from his bride.

After lunch, the young couple napped together. When Yan Qing woke, she nudged Shi Ting’s arm. “Let’s go see Mother.”

Even if Luo Huaimeng did not wish to see her, she could not afford to be lacking in her duties as a daughter-in-law.

“Mm.” Shi Ting sat up and kissed her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

“I’m not worried.” Yan Qing smiled. “Let’s get ready.”

When the two arrived at the entrance of Luo Huaimeng’s courtyard, the maid outside hurried inside to announce them. Before long, Luo Huaimeng’s personal maid, Xiang Xiu, came out. “Seventh Young Master, Seventh Young Mistress — please come in.”

Because Luo Huaimeng was a concubine, and an unfavored one at that, her courtyard was considerably smaller in scale than Madam Shi’s Zhuo Xin Garden. But Luo Huaimeng did not care about such things. The modest courtyard was kept clean and tidy.

The moment Yan Qing stepped inside, she caught the faint smell of medicinal herbs. An empty bowl sitting on the table confirmed that Luo Huaimeng had just finished drinking her medicine.

Luo Huaimeng sat beside the square table, dressed in a pale blue satin cheongsam. Her dark hair was pinned up in a simple bun. Though she was over forty, she looked no older than her early thirties. Her delicate face still carried traces of the remarkable beauty she had possessed in youth.

Shi Ting had inherited half of his looks from Luo Huaimeng — particularly the eyes and the line of his nose.

When the two stepped forward to pay their respects, Luo Huaimeng gave them only a brief, distant glance before lowering her gaze again. After a long pause, she replied with a single syllable: “Mm.”

Luo Huaimeng did not invite them to sit. Yan Qing had no intention of taking a seat uninvited. It was Shi Ting who guided her to a chair at the side and told her, “Sit down and speak.”

Once seated, Yan Qing glanced over at Luo Huaimeng, catching the older woman’s eyes as they withdrew from her legs. Though there was a flicker of surprise on Luo Huaimeng’s face, she said nothing and appeared entirely indifferent.

“How is Mother’s health?” Shi Ting asked.

“Fine.” Luo Huaimeng set down her teacup. “I’ve been keeping up with the medicine.”

Shi Ting nodded and turned to look at Yan Qing. “Yan Qing has some knowledge of medicine. Mother, if you ever need help, she can assist.”

“There’s no need.” Luo Huaimeng didn’t even pause to consider it. “There are plenty of proper physicians — I have no use for her help. She should simply look after her own affairs.”

Yan Qing said nothing, only gave a quiet smile.

“I’m tired. You may go.” Luo Huaimeng dismissed them in her placid way.

“Then please rest well, Mother.” Shi Ting and Yan Qing paid their respects and withdrew.

Once outside the courtyard gate, Shi Ting squeezed her hand, guilt evident in his expression, and let out a soft sigh. “I’ve made you feel aggrieved.”

Had it been anyone else, it might have been easier. But this was his mother. He understood Luo Huaimeng, and he knew where her reluctance came from. She had always wanted him to marry someone of equal standing, someone who could help advance his career. And Yan Qing did not fit the ideal she had in mind for a daughter-in-law.

In Luo Huaimeng’s view, Shun Cheng had no shortage of prominent families from which he might have chosen a bride. Instead, he had chosen the daughter of a merchant — a match that offered not the slightest advantage to his future.

“I’m not aggrieved.” Yan Qing smiled to comfort him. “I understand how Mother feels. I don’t blame her. And I don’t blame you.”

Something warm moved through Shi Ting’s chest. On impulse, he pulled her into his arms and held her gently.

“Give me some time,” Yan Qing said. “I’ll win her over.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“As long as there is sincerity, it will move her eventually.”

“Mm. Thank you for the trouble, my wife.” He held her and swayed her gently. “If you ever feel wronged, I’m yours to scold or strike to let off steam.”

“I can’t even win in a fight against you.” Yan Qing huffed. “You’re not being genuine at all.”

“You’re welcome to tie me up and hit me. I won’t resist.”

Yan Qing looked at his completely earnest expression and burst out laughing. “Then hurry up and tie yourself.”

At those words, his gaze deepened, and a glint of amusement surfaced in his eyes. What he said next carried an unmistakable undertone of meaning. “So my wife has quite particular tastes after all.”

Realizing she had walked straight into the trap he had set, Yan Qing was so vexed she gave him a punch. “Shameless.”

“How am I being shameless? Was it not my wife who wanted to tie me up?”

Seeing him carry on even further down that path, Yan Qing simply turned and walked briskly ahead, putting several steps between them.

“Don’t be cross, my wife.” Shi Ting immediately chased after her and caught her by the wrist. “I was wrong, I was wrong.”

Yan Qing looked back at him. His eyes were crinkled in a grin, and there was not a trace of genuine remorse on his face. She couldn’t help but laugh.

In the eyes of the world, Director Shi was always stern and unsmiling, a man of absolute impartiality. E Yuan had once said that because Shi Ting never smiled, every time he walked into the examination room, his face was colder than the boxes used to store corpses.

But in Yan Qing’s eyes, he had flesh and blood. He was a man who could act like a petulant child in front of her — and yet wrap around her like an impenetrable shield, protecting her in every way without exception.

How fortunate she was, to be allowed to see the real him.

After their playful banter, Shi Ting said, “Let me take you on a tour of the Shi Mansion, so you don’t get lost.”

The Shi Mansion, though the Marshal’s residence, was not the largest estate in Shun Cheng — in fact, even the Yan Family home was a full size larger.

But the plants and flowers within the Marshal’s estate were all rare and prized varieties. Some of the trees, Yan Qing could not even name.

“There’s a pavilion over there. Let’s rest for a bit.” Mindful of the fact that Yan Qing’s leg could not handle prolonged walking, Shi Ting took her hand and led her to the pavilion.

The pavilion was surrounded by rare trees. A small stream flowed beneath it, and the sound of birds and insects drifted through the peaceful, tranquil air.

In the center of the pavilion stood a stone table. On it lay a game board.

The moment Yan Qing saw the board, she was immediately interested and pulled Shi Ting down to play a game of five-in-a-row with her.

She was not someone who liked to dwell on winning or losing — but when it came to playing against Shi Ting, she always wanted to beat him.

“No, no, I’m not moving there.” Yan Qing picked up the piece she had just placed and moved it back, then returned Shi Ting’s most recent move as well, placing her own piece in the spot where his had been.

Miss Yan did not merely take back her own moves — she took back her opponent’s as well. One might say she had achieved the highest possible mastery of the game.

Shi Ting bore it all with patient good humor. Game after game, Yan Qing emerged victorious.

“This is no fun.” Strangely enough, the one who had been cheating was the first to grow dissatisfied. “Let’s bet on something.”

“What would my wife like to bet?” Shi Ting smiled as he looked at her.

Yan Qing propped her chin in her hand and thought, her dark eyes wandering across his face. “We’ll each keep our wager in mind. Whoever wins gets to say what it is.”

“Any wager at all?”

“Naturally.”

Shi Ting narrowed his eyes slightly. “Agreed.”

Yan Qing wasn’t the least bit afraid of losing. Even if his skill at the game was exceptional, she had her own “method of winning.”

Sure enough, not long after the pieces were laid, Yan Qing went back to her old tricks, retracting moves in every way she could think of. But this time, even though Shi Ting had been deliberately letting her win by turning a blind eye, she still never quite managed to win.

By the time the board was filled and there was no more room to place pieces, neither side had achieved victory. It ended in a draw.

“What do we do? It’s a tie.” Shi Ting held a black piece between his fingers, smiling at her warmly. “Does our wager still stand?”

“Of course it does.” Yan Qing had no intention of letting a good opportunity slip.

“Then what is my wife’s wager?”

Yan Qing flashed a sly smile, turned, and disappeared into the trees. She came back a moment later holding a pink peony she had snapped from a branch. “If I had won, I would get to put this flower in Director Shi’s hair.”

Shi Ting: “……”

The figure seated on the stone bench gave an exasperated laugh and pointed to his own head. “Go ahead then.”

Yan Qing saw how obliging he was being and skipped over gleefully, then tucked the peony behind his right ear.

There were no words quite adequate to describe the sight of Director Shi — tall, distinguished, strikingly handsome in every way — with a fresh flower nestled in his hair. All Yan Qing could say was that she was doubled over with laughter, laughing until tears streamed from her eyes.

“Does it look good?” Shi Ting asked, perfectly composed.

“It looks wonderful — it looks absolutely wonderful, ha!” Yan Qing laughed shamelessly while clutching her stomach. If only there were a camera — she would absolutely take a photograph to preserve as evidence.

Once her laughter had settled, Yan Qing remembered that it had been a draw. “What is your wager?” she asked.

“My wager, hmm…” Shi Ting pretended to think it over with great solemnity, then crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”

Yan Qing stepped in front of him and blinked. “Yes?”

He leaned close to her ear and murmured several words. His deep, magnetic voice carried a mesmerizing tone, and what he said was enough to turn Yan Qing’s face from pink to a vivid red, even the tips of her ears flushed with suspicious color.

“Shi Xing Zhi.” She stamped her foot and glared at him. “What kind of wager is that?”

Shi Ting calmly pointed to the peony still resting behind his ear. “I do believe Miss Yan is a woman of her word. Am I wrong?”

Yan Qing was suddenly seized with regret. She reached out to snatch the flower back. “I take it back — I’m not putting it on you anymore, all right?”

He shifted slightly to the left, dodging her hand with ease. His right hand caught her wrist with precision, and with one smooth motion pulled her toward him — she ended up settled neatly on his lap.

“No!” he refused, quick and decisive. He lifted the flower from his hair and tucked it into her own. Then he leaned in and inhaled deeply, his voice carrying a meaningful warmth: “Tonight, I am very much looking forward to my wife’s performance.”

—