A hand reached over, pressing against her forehead without explanation. Xin Mei felt her little heart inside her chest was about to burst out, panicking until her legs went weak.

What was he going to do?! Not here, right? This place… wasn’t very convenient! According to the steps in the book, shouldn’t it be on a beautiful, soft bed, then you remove one piece from me, I remove one piece from you, like that?

“You have a fever.”

Lu Qianqiao’s voice sounded behind her ear, carrying warm breath that gave her goosebumps all over.

What did he say? She was too agitated right now to hear clearly…

“You shouldn’t have drunk so much wine. Come, I’ll take you back to your room.”

Another hand grabbed the back of her clothes without explanation, lifted, then carried her like a sack of rice.

Strange, shouldn’t he be holding her in a full embrace, or at least carrying her on his back? What was this business of carrying her like a sack of rice?!

Xin Mei struggled to crane her neck to look at him: “Lu Qianqiao, carrying me like this is very uncomfortable.”

His facial expression was extremely calm, not gentle or lingering at all, his voice very steady: “Everyone feels uncomfortable when drunk. Bear with it a moment, we’ll be there soon.”

She was astonished: “I’m not drunk!”

He didn’t speak. Well, drunk people never admit they’re drunk.

“I’m really not drunk!”

She just wanted to prepare herself psychologically—why was that so difficult?

He lifted his arm, finally changing position from carrying a rice sack to shouldering a rice sack. Xin Mei couldn’t help but silently shed two lines of pitiful tears. So in his heart, she was the same as a rice sack.

Xin Mei’s courtyard was next to Xin Xiong’s, small and exquisite, filled with plum blossoms that Xin Xiong had planted according to the “mei” character in his daughter’s name. Originally Xin Xiong had named his daughter “Xin Mei” because his wife’s name contained the character for plum, as the couple was deeply in love. Later he invited Immortal Yuqing to read fortunes, who calculated that Xin Mei’s destiny lacked water in the five elements, so “mei” (plum) was changed to “mei” (water’s edge). Following Immortal Yuqing’s suggestion, they filled her courtyard with plum blossoms for their solitary, cold, and pure qualities, which was supposedly very beneficial for future marriage prospects.

But she really couldn’t see any benefits!

Xin Mei was carried into her room in tears by Lu Qianqiao, who promptly bound her with the demon-binding rope. She was forced to lie on the bed, baring her teeth: “Lu Qianqiao! You tied me up again!”

He completely ignored her, wringing out a cloth in cold water, walking over to lift her head with one hand while wiping her face with the other, his movements both gentle and clumsy, as if afraid of hurting her.

How could this person be like this? Every time it was the same—on the surface he seemed particularly considerate and fond of her, but his actions were always wrong. Was there any husband in the world who would use demon-binding rope on his own wife? The one who originally captured and imprisoned her was him, the one who later broke the engagement and made her go from bride to abandoned woman on her wedding day was also him, the one who later grandly came to propose and spoke of truly becoming husband and wife was also him, and now the one insisting she was drunk and tying her with demon-binding rope was still him—

He, he, he… truly, a man’s heart was like a needle at the bottom of the sea!

Being husband and wife was more difficult than giving birth to children.

Seeing her motionless and silent, only staring at him with wide eyes, Lu Qianqiao touched her forehead again. This time it wasn’t burning, and her skin carried damp coolness. He was somewhat addicted to this sensation, his fingers lingering for a moment before slowly withdrawing.

“…Do you still feel uncomfortable?” he asked in a low voice.

She made a very disdainful snort from her nose, refusing to answer.

Lu Qianqiao hesitated: “You’re acting strange today.”

“You’re the one acting strange!” she raged. “Lu Qianqiao, I hate you! From today, from now on—I hate you from the bottom of my feet!”

He paid no mind, only tucking in the blanket corners: “You’re severely drunk. Sleep.”

“You still have me tied up—how can I sleep!”

He paused for a moment, somewhat worried: “Xin Mei, if you keep demolishing things, Xinxie Manor will be gone.”

Her mouth pouted so much you could hang an oil bottle on it: “You’re talking nonsense! That was… not at all… I was just… that thing…”

“What?” He was completely confused.

“Nothing! Quickly release me!”

The demon-binding rope was quickly withdrawn. Xin Mei rolled off the bed and turned her back to him: “I don’t want to marry you. Go away!”

Lu Qianqiao didn’t pay attention to this childishness, instead looking around with a slight smile: “So this is the room you live in.”

His knowledge of women’s rooms was limited to Li Chaoyang’s. As a noble War Ghost lady and a widow, her room was cold, hard, and simple, with one wall hung full of various divine weapons, showing not a trace of softness.

Xin Mei’s room was completely different.

Light gauze the color of evening clouds hung before the exquisite moon-shaped window. Several books lay scattered on a large yellow pear wood cabinet. Instead of luxurious vases or coral, the cabinet was piled with wooden mechanical figurines, colorful clay dolls, and various strange-looking toys—clearly not a standard young lady’s boudoir from books, but full of Xin Mei’s essence.

On a small cabinet against the headboard sat two very familiar puppets—the Heavenly Lady and General he had made. One was gorgeously colorful and magnificent, the other imposing and majestic, holding up a long blade. The painted faces on both puppets were somewhat faded from frequent handling and playing.

Lu Qianqiao picked up the General puppet. The back was embroidered with a line of text, apparently added later by this girl.

That line of text—oh, that line of text—”Whoring General in Full Majestic Attire.”

His eyebrows twitched twice as he turned to ask her: “Whoring General?”

Xin Mei snatched it away, protecting it like a treasure in her arms: “It’s not you! Go away! Don’t touch my things!”

Lu Qianqiao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “Xin Mei, it’s Cavalry General, not whoring…”

“Hmph, I won’t listen!”

He smiled helplessly and turned to look at the other side of the room, where sat a not-too-large dressing table. Unsurprisingly, it was covered with a thin layer of dust—this child had probably rarely used it in all her years. He picked up a box of rouge and gently opened it—well, it had dried out.

He picked up osmanthus hair oil and opened it—well, completely dried.

He opened the powder box—well, several powder sticks had cracked into fragments.

Xin Mei frantically tugged at his sleeve from behind, twisting like a pretzel: “Not here! You can’t look at things on this side!”

Lu Qianqiao saw her extreme panic and patted her forehead: “Alright, then I’ll go. Sleep early.”

He opened the door and left.

Xin Mei let out a long breath of relief, quickly hugging the jewelry box that felt heavy as a thousand pounds, dumping out all the jewelry inside and grabbing those books, looking around for a more secure hiding place.

Unexpectedly, the door was pushed open again. Lu Qianqiao stepped in, saying: “Xin Mei, my eye-covering black cloth…”

She panicked, and the books in her hands scattered all over the floor. The others were manageable, but that Orchid Musk Tender Pistil Collection was a picture album, not a thread-bound book. In an instant, illustrated pages flew everywhere, and the one titled “Guanyin Sitting on Lotus” fluttered down beside Lu Qianqiao’s feet, which he bent to pick up.

In her urgency, Xin Mei shouted: “Look at me! Don’t look at anything else!”

He was startled and indeed raised his head to look at her quietly, ignoring the scattered papers on the floor. Speaking of which, the paper in his hand felt delicate and smooth, with a lingering fragrance… This scent, he seemed to have smelled it somewhere before…

“Very good, now slowly place the paper in your hand on the table, then turn around…”

She sat restlessly across from him, her face red as if bleeding, covered in sweat.

Lu Qianqiao concentrated on capturing that familiar fragrance, suddenly remembering something, his brow furrowing: “The scent on this album is wrong.”

In his youth leading troops against enemies, how high-spirited and proud he had been. There had been ill-intentioned people from enemy nations who tried to use honey traps to lure him into ambushes. The scent on the album was exactly the spring fragrance burned in that room—Phoenix Balm. One inch of Phoenix Balm was worth five taels of silver. Unlike those tiger-wolf-like aphrodisiacs, Phoenix Balm could even be called good medicine. It wouldn’t make people impulsively uncontrollable, nor did it have lasting effects. Its properties merely used fragrance to make people’s thoughts wander, so those affected often couldn’t detect it.

Back then, sensing something wrong, he had immediately destroyed the Phoenix Balm in the incense burner. He never expected that today he would once again smell this lingering, tender fragrance.

“Xin Mei, this album…”

As he spoke, he looked down carefully, and his eyes met four bold characters—

Guanyin Sitting on Lotus.

And the illustration beside the text…

Lu Qianqiao froze.