Wei Caiwei was stunned for quite a while before roughly understanding what Wang Daxia meant, and her expression immediately changed. At such a young age, what was he thinking about!

No wonder he sold his mother’s estate to redeem some Miss Yingying!

Wei Caiwei picked up the knife she had used to cut watermelon earlier, wishing she could castrate him with her own hands!

But…

He’s your husband, your own flesh and blood.

Heaven took pity and let me return to before my husband castrated himself—surely not so I could castrate him myself.

This thought was like an invisible hand preventing her from harming Wang Daxia.

“What are you doing? If you have something to say, say it nicely—don’t get physical!” Wang Daxia held up the pillow to protect himself, with the expression of a virtuous and chaste man:

“Even if you threaten me with a knife, I won’t sleep with you. I don’t hit women, but if you try to force yourself on an innocent man, I’ll definitely resist.”

At this moment, Wei Caiwei suddenly understood Thousand-Household Commander Wang’s despair: the wastrel son only sold fields to save a courtesan—he didn’t kill anyone.

He just misunderstood me—he didn’t take advantage of the situation to sleep with a young widow.

Of two evils, choose the lesser—Wei Caiwei could only comfort herself this way.

Wei Caiwei put down the knife and pointed to the prepared medicine on the tray: “You’re thinking wrong—I just wanted to apply medicine to your wounds.”

Wang Daxia thought to himself: the young widow has thin skin. Seeing my stern refusal of her request to share a bed, she’s finding an excuse about treating wounds to save face.

Treating wounds is treating wounds—why did you push aside my clothes?

Woman, I’ve seen right through your thoughts.

See through but don’t expose—that way we can meet tomorrow as if nothing happened.

Wang Daxia thought himself magnanimous, put down the protective pillow, and said: “I see—I misunderstood Dr. Wei. However, men and women shouldn’t have physical contact. I’ll do it myself.”

Looking at his expression, he clearly doesn’t believe me. Wei Caiwei wanted to take the watermelon knife to Wang Daxia’s head to figure out what he was thinking.

Wang Daxia saw that Wei Caiwei wouldn’t move and was still standing there sizing him up. This young widow still won’t give up, huh? He picked up the pillow again to block in front of himself and said: “You… go upstairs and rest early.”

This guy actually gave me an eviction order! This is my house, okay!

Wei Caiwei suppressed her anger and extended her right hand.

As soon as Wei Caiwei moved, Wang Daxia hugged the pillow and shrank inward: “Why won’t you leave?”

Wei Caiwei pointed to the medicine: “White bottle for external use, blue bottle for internal use. Don’t get it wet, don’t sweat, and I guarantee there won’t even be a scar afterward. Seventy coins total. My medicine is more expensive than market price, but once you use it, you’ll know it’s worth it.”

Seeing Wei Caiwei’s businesslike manner, Wang Daxia took a piece of silver from his bundle and gave it to her.

Wei Caiwei weighed the silver in her hand: “This is at least one and a half taels. I’ll get your change.”

“No need to find change!” Wang Daxia said: “Tonight I ate your food and stayed at your place—I can’t eat and stay for free. The remainder can be meal money and room fee. Tomorrow morning, once the Northern District Military Commissioner’s patrol leaves, I’ll leave here and won’t disturb Dr. Wei anymore.”

This young widow was good in personality and appearance in every way, but she seemed like the type who would be hard to shake off once she got attached. Wang Daxia felt he should keep his distance from the young widow in the future and not dare to flirt or be ambiguous anymore. Miss Yingying was right—women who are too clingy can’t be kept; they’re trouble.

Wang Daxia didn’t want to owe her any favors—they would just have a simple monetary relationship between landlord and tenant.

Wei Caiwei found it both infuriating and amusing: between intimate spouses, accounts should be clear. I’m protecting him as my own husband, but he treats me as a young widow who can’t sleep alone, can’t bear the loneliness, and seduces young men.

I was too eager—eager to befriend him and gain his trust so I could help him resolve the disaster the Wang family was about to face. But I scared him into pushing me away.

Going too far is as bad as not going far enough.

“Second Young Master Wang is truly generous. Thank you.” Wei Caiwei casually threw the silver into the drawer of the shrine and went upstairs carrying the lantern.

After hearing the sound of the door closing upstairs, Wang Daxia finally put down the protective pillow and breathed a sigh of relief. He said to the memorial tablet on the shrine: “Lucky it was me—if it had been another man, how could he have controlled himself? I didn’t touch your wife, okay? Don’t pretend to be a ghost in my dreams tonight to scare me!”

One of the four scourges of the Northern District that everyone wanted to beat—Young Master Wang’s weakness was… fear of ghosts.

Wang Daxia blew out the candle to sleep. The faint woman’s fragrance on the pillow made him, in his prime of youthful vigor, close his eyes and hazily imagine the disheveled young widow right beside his pillow. His young man’s heart became restless, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

Now Wang Daxia finally understood what the first poem in the Book of Songs, “Guan Ju,” meant by “Fair maiden, gentleman’s good match; seeking but not obtaining, tossing and turning.” He was now in that state of thinking day and night, rolling left and right on the arhat couch like making pancakes, tormented by wicked thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a “snap” from the shrine that startled Wang Daxia into sitting up straight like a carp, hugging the pillow and trembling: “Who’s there?”

Of course no one answered.

Wang Daxia tremblingly felt for his flint in his bundle and lit the candle with a whoosh. It turned out the memorial tablet “Spirit of Deceased Husband Wang Erlang” on the shrine had fallen over.

How could it fall over for no reason?

Wang Daxia straightened the tablet and examined it carefully. The shrine was fine, properly positioned. The tablet’s base was flat and sat steadily on the shrine. Why would it fall?

There was only one answer—there was a ghost!

It must be the young widow’s dead ghost husband who saw me fantasizing about his wife on the arhat couch and manifested his spirit!

Wang Daxia’s hair stood on end. Regardless of the danger to his virtue, he ran upstairs and knocked on the door: “Dr. Wei, there’s a ghost!”

Wei Caiwei was thinking about how to regain Wang Daxia’s trust and hadn’t fallen asleep either. Hearing this, she put on clothes and opened the door: “What ghost?”

“Your dead ghost husband.” Wang Daxia felt affectionate seeing a living person. “His memorial tablet fell over for no reason—he must be so angry seeing you housing a strange man that he wants to come back from the underworld.”

Wei Caiwei was speechless: My dead ghost husband is you! Where would a ghost come from!

Wei Caiwei went downstairs with Wang Daxia following behind her, when they heard a squeak and a black shadow jumped down from the shrine—it was a mouse.

Wang Daxia took off his shoe and threw it at the black shadow, killing the mouse on the spot.

It turned out a mouse had been stealing the offerings in front of the memorial tablet and knocked over the tablet, then ran away before Wang Daxia lit the candle.

A false alarm.

Wei Caiwei said: “You handle the mouse. Ghost and spirit talk isn’t credible. Go to sleep.”

Wang Daxia nodded and pointed at the memorial tablet: “Could you please take the memorial tablet upstairs? I… I find it creepy and can’t sleep. I keep feeling like this tablet is watching me.”

Wei Caiwei found it amusing: You’re afraid of yourself?

Wang Daxia thought Wei Caiwei was unwilling and quickly said: “I’ll pay extra—is two taels enough?”

Wei Caiwei gained new understanding of her dead ghost husband: So the decisive Factory Director Wang was afraid of ghosts!

Wang Daxia: “Five taels?”

“No need. I won’t take advantage of someone in distress.” Wei Caiwei took the memorial tablet upstairs.

Wang Daxia finally relaxed and sat on the arhat couch. Just as he was about to blow out the candle, he hesitated, still feeling lingering fear and not daring to sleep in darkness.

He simply left the candle burning and slept until dawn.

Caiwei was awakened by the calls of peddlers selling fried dough sticks and tofu pudding in the alley.

She went downstairs and bought five fried dough sticks and a crock of tofu pudding. The peddler wanted to pour salty sauce on top of the tofu pudding, but Wei Caiwei stopped him: “No need—I like it sweet.”

The peddler shouldered his carrying pole and left, but Wei Caiwei called out: “Wait.” She brought out a small bowl from home: “Put the sauce separately in here.”

Her dead ghost husband liked salty tofu pudding.

The peddler added minced garlic and chive flower sauce to the salty sauce. Just as he was about to sprinkle cilantro, Wei Caiwei said: “No cilantro.”

Her dead ghost husband hated cilantro—whether in wontons, tofu pudding, mutton soup, or hotpot, he couldn’t stand the smell of cilantro.

The noise of Wei Caiwei buying breakfast woke Wang Daxia, who immediately got up to dress and wash, afraid the young widow would take advantage of him while he slept.

By the time he finished grooming and wrapping his headband, Wei Caiwei had already set breakfast on the table.

Tofu pudding and fried dough sticks—the most ordinary food, yet it made Wang Daxia’s mouth water. He had only eaten watermelon and brown sugar fried cakes last night and was very hungry now, but the Northern District Military Commissioner’s people hadn’t withdrawn yet, so he couldn’t go out.

“Let’s eat together.” Wei Caiwei added two big spoonfuls of snow-white sugar to her bowl of tofu pudding.

Wang Daxia thought: If I eat her food, I’ll be in her debt—what if the young widow makes excessive requests like warming the bed…

“You already paid last night anyway.” Wei Caiwei said.

Oh right, I did pay.

Wang Daxia sat across from her and served himself a bowl of tofu pudding. He first smelled the salty sauce to confirm there was no cilantro, then poured half a bowl of salty sauce.

Wei Caiwei ate two fried dough sticks, Wang Daxia ate three. The portion was just right—both were full with no leftovers. This was the understanding of thirty years of marriage.

Wang Daxia put down his chopsticks, and Wei Caiwei asked: “Do you know how to wash dishes?”

Wang Daxia was a dandy who never lifted a finger, so he shook his head: “No.”

Wei Caiwei: “Wash the dishes—I’ll teach you, it’s very simple.”

Wei Caiwei had Wang Daxia collect the dirty dishes and wash them with water from the back courtyard cistern. Wang Daxia was living under someone else’s roof and was no longer a young master, so he had to comply. After rinsing three times, hearing the sound of the guard soldiers withdrawing and riding horses in the alley, he quickly said: “They’ve left—I can go now. Farewell.”

Wang Daxia shouldered his bundle and had just touched the door bolt when he heard the clip-clop of horse hooves in the alley again. Had the Northern District Military Commissioner returned?

The horse hooves stopped right at the door, immediately followed by someone banging roughly on the door.

The knocking was very rude. Wei Caiwei gave Wang Daxia a meaningful look and said: “Who is making noise outside?”

The person outside said: “Imperial Guards on official business—open the door quickly!”