Wei Caiwei carried the lantern, leading the wolf… no, leading her dead ghost husband into the room. She placed the lantern on the table and lit another candle for illumination.

“Tonight you’ll sleep on this arhat couch. I’ll go upstairs to fetch bedding.”

“Thank you.” Wang Daxia sat somewhat stiffly on the arhat couch. Even though it was his mother’s dowry, his own furniture, he felt uncomfortable—not the awkward kind of uncomfortable, but that ambiguous, exciting kind of uncomfortable.

This little widow must have taken a fancy to me!

Otherwise, why would she invite me to eat wontons on our first encounter, and specifically the bowl she had just offered to her deceased husband?

Last night when I beat the grievance drum at the Shuntian Prefecture office, she was also the one who warned me to watch out for hidden arrows.

Chen Jingji repeatedly reminded her that I was an unreasonable young master, yet she compared me to King Zhuang of Chu who startled the world with a single brilliant feat. She’s been showing me kindness all along, and her eyes held appreciative gazes.

No one has ever treated me this way—she must have feelings for me…

Wang Daxia let his imagination run wild on the arhat couch, his thoughts turning wicked.

She took the initiative to open the door and invite me in, she gave me food, helped me unpack my bundle, and even led me inside, to bed…

Wang Daxia sprang up with a start, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead.

He wiped away the sweat with his elbow, and the moment he looked up, he saw the memorial tablet on the household shrine. Under the candlelight, the words “Spirit of Deceased Husband Wang Erlang” flickered in and out of view.

What a coincidence! Her dead ghost husband was also surnamed Wang and also ranked second in his family.

So she treated me so well because she was transferring her feelings from her dead ghost husband. Could it be that her dead ghost husband also resembled me in appearance?

So I’m just a substitute.

Seeing the memorial tablet, all of Wang Daxia’s wicked thoughts vanished, and he plopped back down on the arhat couch.

But he twisted left and right, unwilling to accept this, then stood up again and whispered to the tablet: “I didn’t want to come in—it was your wife… she wanted me to come in. You’re surnamed Wang, I’m also surnamed Wang. You rank second, I’m also second. We have a connection.”

Wang Daxia perked up his ears to listen for movement upstairs and continued: “Brother, surely you’re an understanding ghost. There’s a curfew outside, I can’t leave now. If people saw me running out of a young widow’s house in the middle of the night, I’m already a wastrel—more lice don’t make me itch, more debts don’t worry me, so it doesn’t matter to me. But her reputation would be damaged, and she’d probably have to leave the capital. You understand what I mean, right? I’m staying here overnight to protect her reputation.”

Wang Daxia not only deceived people, he also deceived ghosts.

Finding himself a dignified excuse to feel justified in staying overnight at the beautiful young widow’s house.

Meanwhile, Wei Caiwei carried the lantern upstairs and opened the trunk, only then realizing she had only one set of bedding and bed curtains, and fourteen-year-old Wang Daxia absolutely could not sleep in the same bed with her.

In her previous life, her marriage to Wang Daxia had lasted longer than Wang Daxia’s current age, so she had instinctively said she would bring down the bedding.

Now, forget about sleeping together—as a widow, she couldn’t even let an outside man sleep with her bedding.

But since she had already come up, she couldn’t go down empty-handed. Wei Caiwei folded a winter garment to serve as a pillow and took her own pillow downstairs.

It was summer anyway—he could sleep without a mattress, and giving him a pillow would suffice.

Wang Daxia heard movement on the stairs and looked over, immediately becoming transfixed: he saw a beautiful woman in plain clothes with waist-length hair, carrying a lantern in her right hand and holding a pillow in her left, quite resembling a begonia in spring slumber.

Viewing a beauty by lamplight made her appear even more beautiful, and his recently extinguished wicked thoughts rekindled.

Wang Daxia instantly recalled seeing “Romance of the Western Chamber” at the theater, where Cui Yingying held a pillow for her nighttime rendezvous with Zhang Sheng. The lyrics from their first meeting echoed in his mind:

“Too shy to raise her head, she leans directly against the mandarin duck pillow. Her cloud-like hair seems to have dropped a golden hairpin, especially becoming when her maidenly coiffure sits askew.”

“I loosen these buttons and untie these silk ribbons… why won’t you turn your face toward me?”

While Wang Daxia was lost in thought, Wei Caiwei placed the pillow on the arhat couch. “There’s no extra bedding in the house. Make do for one night—take the clothes from your bundle and use them as a blanket.”

Wang Daxia saw the half-worn pillow and knew it was the one the young widow usually used herself.

Bringing a pillow in the middle of the night… is she hinting at something? That’s how they sing it in the opera.

At this moment Wang Daxia’s mind wandered, his recently grown Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. When his fingers touched the pillow, it was like a fuse igniting invisible fireworks in his brain.

Wei Caiwei had no idea that Wang Daxia was mentally staging a grand opera of Cui Yingying’s nighttime meeting with Zhang Sheng. With candlelight plus the lantern, both of them standing close, Wei Caiwei finally noticed that his shirt sleeve had a large tear and his forearm had abrasions covered with moss, dust, and other debris.

Wei Caiwei pointed at his wound and said: “Take off those dirty clothes, wash yourself, and put on clean ones. I’ll go prepare some external medicine. In this hot weather, wounds with dirt on them easily fester and rot.”

Wang Daxia’s mind was now filled with exploding fireworks, thundering loudly. Wei Caiwei wanted to treat his wounds, but the key points he heard were “take off your clothes” and “wash yourself.”

Wang Daxia had been to places like Red Sleeve Pavilion—those pleasure quarters. He might not have eaten pork, but he’d seen pigs run. In the middle of the night, a lone man and woman treating wounds—it definitely wasn’t simple wound treatment!

The other party was a long-widowed young woman, and I bore some resemblance to her dead ghost husband, so she might be transferring her feelings. That’s why she was kind to me from our first meeting, and she was the only woman in the capital who thought I had the talent of King Zhuang of Chu.

I’ve confirmed it through eye contact—this young widow began having feelings for me from our first meeting.

Wang Daxia’s mind rapidly flashed through every moment of tonight’s interactions with the young widow, from when he fell after climbing over the courtyard wall and the young widow opened the door to invite him in—every step had been initiated by the young widow.

She gave me watermelon, brown sugar fried cakes, invited me to sleep here tonight, gave me her pillow to use, told me to take off my clothes and wash…

How could I be so stupid! The young widow was clearly lovesick with longing, treating me as her dead ghost husband, offering herself, wanting a night of spring passion!

I was too slow to catch on!

As a young widow, of course she couldn’t say it directly. She hinted at me so many times, and I only just now realize it.

What incredible luck!

Wang Daxia immediately took off his shirt and went to the courtyard water vat to draw a bucket of water, pouring it from head to toe, even sniffing under both armpits to check for any strange odors.

But the cold water cooled Wang Daxia down from his excitement. This young widow was decent—lovesick with longing, acting on impulse, treating me as her dead ghost husband and wanting a night of spring passion.

However, taking advantage of someone’s vulnerability, taking advantage of a heartbroken young widow—doing this didn’t seem right.

The young widow had saved my life, after all.

I couldn’t let her momentary lack of restraint lead her into irredeemable ruin.

I’m the son of a Thousand-Household Commander, with a hereditary military rank to inherit. I can’t marry a commoner young widow as my wife.

Since I can’t marry her, I can’t touch her.

But this young widow was so alluring… missing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity would be quite regrettable…

Wang Daxia’s heart was torn between heaven and earth, so he simply drew another bucket of water and poured it below his navel.

Wei Caiwei had prepared the medicine and was carrying the lantern over when Wang Daxia was already covered with clothes on the arhat couch, apparently asleep, with faint snoring sounds.

Wang Daxia was naturally pretending to sleep—he thought this was a silent way of declining, both refusing the young widow while saving face for both of them. This way, when they woke up tomorrow, they could act as if nothing had happened and remain friends.

Wei Caiwei immediately filled with hot tears. Wang Daxia’s sleeping appearance was exactly the same as in her previous life. He had shared her bed and pillow for nearly thirty years—their marriage had lasted twice as long as Wang Daxia’s current age—they had been a deeply loving couple.

For Wei Caiwei, Wang Daxia had died just four days ago. No matter how she cried out to her dead ghost husband, the husband lying on the funeral bed gave no response whatsoever.

Now her fourteen-year-old husband was sleeping right beside her.

His breathing was steady, full of vigor, even each strand of hair carried life force.

He wasn’t dead. How wonderful.

Wei Caiwei worried about her husband’s wound festering, so she gently pushed aside the clothes Wang Daxia was using as a blanket, intending to roll up his sleeve and apply medicine to the abrasion on his upper arm.

But the moment she pushed aside the clothes, the snoring immediately stopped. Wang Daxia opened his eyes and quickly pulled the clothes up to below his neck, wrapping himself tightly and curling up his body to shrink toward the inner part of the bed. “Don’t come over here! If you strip my clothes again, I’ll shout! Even if you miss your dead ghost husband, you can’t use me as a substitute for sleeping with! Wake up, rein in at the cliff’s edge, don’t make mistake after mistake.”