Zhaohui Hall.

When Fourth Madam returned, Fourth Master had just finished washing his feet and was about to lie down.

“Did it end so early?” Since they happened to encounter each other, Fourth Master pulled the quilt over to cover his disabled leg and sat on the bedside to speak with his wife.

The lamplight was soft. Fourth Master wore a white inner robe, his entire body seeming to be enveloped in a faint luminous halo.

Fourth Madam responded and began to feel constrained.

She wasn’t accustomed to facing Fourth Master like this.

In eight years of marriage, the number of times they had slept in the same bed could be counted—only three to five times per month.

This matter had to be traced back to when she first married into the family.

Before her marriage, Fourth Madam already knew about Fourth Master’s physical condition. When Duke Mansion came to propose, everything had been explained clearly. To marry a hero who had lost a leg—Fourth Madam minded it a little in her heart, but she also admired the Lu men’s loyal devotion, so Fourth Madam hid that bit of concern and told her parents she was willing to marry.

On their wedding night, it was her first time seeing Fourth Master. When Fourth Master lifted her veil while leaning on his walking stick, meeting his resolute, handsome face, Fourth Madam fell in love at first sight.

Liking him was one thing, but when it came time to consummate, she was still nervous. When Fourth Master’s disabled leg touched her, Fourth Madam felt a bit afraid. Fourth Master could probably sense her stiffness, so the matter ended halfway.

Later, after spending more time together, Fourth Madam no longer feared Fourth Master’s leg. But Fourth Master was inconvenienced in movement and proud—he wouldn’t let her help him even when he fell. In intimate matters, he was even more prone to despair. Fourth Madam was timid and, bound by propriety, dared not and didn’t know how to take initiative. Thus, their marriage had never been consummated.

“It’s late. Let’s sleep.”

After a brief silence, Fourth Master spoke.

Fourth Madam nodded.

Fourth Master lay down. Fourth Madam cleaned her face, combed her hair, and washed her feet. The maids extinguished the lamps and withdrew. Fourth Madam climbed to the inner side of the bed and burrowed into her own quilt.

The night was quiet, and Fourth Madam’s heart beat unusually fast.

Today was the Lantern Festival, so Fourth Master would spend the night in the rear residence. Next, she might have to wait several more days before he came again to keep up appearances.

Being this kind of married couple, Fourth Madam didn’t hate Fourth Master. She understood clearly that Fourth Master also liked her and wanted her—it was just that Fourth Master was too afraid of showing his awkward side before her. Rather than staying here with both unable to sleep peacefully, it was better for them to separate and each sleep alone.

Fourth Madam didn’t hate him, but she harbored resentment. If Fourth Master had been a bit braver, treated her more like family, and not worried so much about appearances, they would have consummated long ago and perhaps already had children. If that were truly the case, how could she have spent so many nights tossing sleeplessly alone? How could she have been secretly gossiped about by little maids? How could she have shed so many tears?

She admired him, felt sorry for him, resented him, yet yearned for him.

Various emotions brewing in her heart—how could Fourth Madam possibly sleep?

She turned over, facing her husband.

Fourth Master lay with his back to her, as on every night they slept together.

So close—she could touch him just by reaching out.

The figures of Lu Cong, Lu Ze, Second Madam, and Third Madam appeared before her eyes in succession. The words of those two little maids, mixed with sympathy and mockery, echoed in her ears. Fourth Madam closed her eyes, suddenly threw off her quilt, slipped into Fourth Master’s bedding, and embraced him tightly.

Fourth Master’s entire body stiffened.

Fourth Madam knew he was still awake. She pressed tightly against his back, reaching one hand around to touch his resolute face that had regained its handsomeness after shaving his beard: “Fourth Master, Mother spoke with me tonight.”

Fourth Master’s breathing was like wind, his heartbeat like drums. Such a wife was like a fairy who had jumped through the window, about to shatter his rationality.

His voice was hoarse: “What did she say?”

Fourth Madam’s face burned, her forehead pressing against his broad back: “Grandmother said that since the heir apparent is already married, we as elders shouldn’t lose to the younger generation in terms of heirs.”

Fourth Master closed his eyes in pain. It was all his fault, making her bear the pressure of producing heirs.

Fourth Master also understood his wife’s meaning—she wanted to try.

Fourth Master grasped her hand and cooperatively turned around. He lifted his wife’s face, his lips burning like fire.

These things had always come naturally—the difficulty lay ahead.

Missing most of one leg meant lacking support; Fourth Master found it very difficult to maintain balance.

The previous Fourth Madam, due to shyness, would only wait foolishly. Tonight, she wouldn’t wait—she pressed down the Fourth Master who wanted to lean over her, taking charge herself.

Fourth Master looked at his wife in the dim light with disbelief: “Xiuzhi!”

Fourth Madam covered his mouth, her voice trembling: “This is what Mother taught me. Don’t speak.”

Fourth Master clenched his fists. The temperature of the heated floor beneath seemed to suddenly increase, making him so hot that large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

“Xiuzhi!” She was so delicate, so clumsy, her small strength seemed to be tormenting him in disguised ways. Fourth Master could bear it no longer. He squeezed her name through gritted teeth and, ignoring her startled cry and retreat, pressed his large hands upon her.

On this Lantern Festival night, with the bright moon hanging high.

The masters had all retired. Di Cui, the maid keeping night watch, skillfully tidied the room, closed the door, and lay down in her bedding. But before she could fall into deep sleep, she was suddenly awakened by broken sobbing sounds. Di Cui listened carefully—it was indeed Fourth Madam crying. Di Cui sat up uneasily. Had Fourth Master made Madam sad again?

If Fourth Master had left, Di Cui could have gone in to comfort her mistress, but now it was impossible.

The crying continued for a while, then disappeared.

Di Cui couldn’t intervene, yet couldn’t sleep either, her heart aching for her mistress.

Around the third watch, Di Cui heard Madam crying again—this time for much longer, sounding so pitiful.

Di Cui cursed Fourth Master thoroughly.

Bad Fourth Master, awful Fourth Master—someday Madam should bully him back!