Chapter 101 -
Wenzhe stepped out from behind the heavy stone archway, his tall, broad frame completely blocking the morning sunlight. His dark eyes were narrowed into sharp, deadly slits, and an icy aura radiated off him so intensely that the air around them seemed to drop ten degrees.
Young Master Song’s handsome face drained of all color. He pulled his hand back as if he had touched red-hot iron, bowing his head in a hasty, trembling salute. "G-General Xi..."
Wenzhe ignored the young nobleman entirely. He didn’t even look at him. His dark, intense gaze was locked strictly on Yueqing.
Without a word, Wenzhe closed the distance in two long strides, his heavy hand reaching out to wrap firmly around Yueqing’s wrist, yanking her securely behind his broad back.
[OH CRAP! THE BLOCK OF WOOD IS HERE!] Yueqing’s inner voice screeched in total panic.
Because Wenzhe was right beside her, holding her wrist, her chaotic mind-radio roared directly inside his head like a hundred loud gongs.
[How long was he standing there?! Did he hear me calling Young Master Song handsome?! Did he see him try to touch my hand?! Nine! Nine, prepare a funeral plot for me near the lotus pond! General Tree is going to snap my neck like a twig!]
Wenzhe’s jaw clenched tightly as her inner squeals bounced around his brain. Handsome second lead? Crying viewers? He didn’t know what half those strange words meant, but he knew one thing: this scholar had dared to hold lingering feelings for his wife.
Turning his cold, intimidating stare back onto the trembling scholar, Wenzhe spoke, his deep voice carrying a dark, rumbling threat that reverberated in his chest.
"Young Master Song," Wenzhe said slowly, his grip on Yueqing’s wrist tightening just enough to keep her anchored against his side. "I suggest you return to the dining hall to attend to your fiancée. If I catch you bothering my wife again, I will personally ensure your father sends you to the northern border to clear snow for the winter."
Young Master Song swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I... I meant no disrespect, General—"
"Leave," Wenzhe commanded, his voice dropping an octave.
Young Master Song didn’t need to be told a third time. He stumbled backward, gave one last terrified bow, and practically sprinted down the covered walkway toward the dining hall as fast as his silk robes would allow.
Silence settled over the garden courtyard.
Yueqing peeked out from behind Wenzhe’s massive shoulder, staring at the empty hallway, then up at the rigid, terrifying line of her husband’s jaw.
[Eep... he’s furious,] her inner voice whimpered softly into his mind, sounding surprisingly small and breathless. [Why is he holding my wrist so tight? Is he going to drag me back to the room and lock me up?!]
Hearing her nervous, fluttering thoughts, Wenzhe’s dark eyes softened by a fraction, though his face remained a stoic mask. He didn’t release her wrist. Instead, he turned around, looking down at her flushed face and her slightly swollen lower lip from the night before.
"Are you done admiring handsome scholars?" Wenzhe asked in a low, quiet voice, his thumb brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. "Or do you need me to drag you into breakfast?"
Yueqing pulled back against his grip on her wrist, her eyes flashing with defensive defiance.
"Why do you care who I talk to?!" she snapped, her chin tilting up as she glared at him. "What’s your business anyway? It’s not like you actually care!"
[Why is he acting like some overbearing, possessive tyrant all of a sudden?!] her inner voice fumed, roaring straight into Wenzhe’s mind. [He spent the entire night sleeping on a wooden couch to stay away from me, and now he’s acting like I’m his precious property?! What hypocrisy!]
Wenzhe’s dark eyes flared with genuine fury. The cold, stoic mask he wore so effortlessly shattered completely. His hand tightened on her wrist, pulling her closer until there was barely any space left between them.
"Even though this isn’t a love marriage, I still have my reputation!" Wenzhe growled, his deep voice trembling with suppressed anger. "Do you see me going to other women and talking to them?! No! Because I have respect for this marriage and respect for you as my wife!"
Yueqing rolled her light green eyes dramatically, letting out a loud, frustrated mock laugh.
"Oh, please!" she scoffed, crossing her free arm over her chest. "I don’t care if you talk to any woman! You can take as many concubines as you want for all I care! Bring ten of them into the mansion tomorrow, see if I bat an eye!"
[In fact, bring twenty!] her brain screeched angrily inside his head. [Then you can go bother them and leave me alone to collect my system points in peace! You big, infuriating Block of Wood!]
Hearing her say she wouldn’t care if he took concubines and hearing her frantic brain confirm that she genuinely meant every word felt like a sharp blade plunging straight into Wenzhe’s chest.
A dangerous, suffocating silence fell over the quiet garden pathway.
Wenzhe’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. His gaze darkened to a shade as black as pitch, staring down at her with an intensity that made the breath catch in Yueqing’s throat.
"You really don’t care?" Wenzhe asked, his voice dropping to a dangerously low, deadly quiet whisper. "Not even a little?"
"Why should I?!" Yueqing retorted, her eyes flashing with sharp defiance as she tried to yank her arm free from his grip. "Have you forgotten you already have one?! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about your little White Lotus!"
Wenzhe’s expression froze, the intense anger in his dark eyes faltering into a stunned silence. His grip on her wrist loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.
"I was in a relationship with Li Mbeefore I married you," Wenzhe defended in a low, heavy voice, his brows knitting together. "That doesn’t count as an affair."
"Oh, please! That doesn’t count?!" Yueqing argued back with a harsh, cynical laugh.
She took a sharp step forward, closing the distance between them so she was staring straight up into his face.
"Then what about after the marriage?" Yueqing demanded, her light green eyes locking fiercely onto his. "Look into my eyes right now and tell me you haven’t had some sort of affair with her despite us being married! Tell me you haven’t held her, helped her, or favored her over your own wife!"
Wenzhe’s lips parted to speak, but the words died in his throat.
He couldn’t lie. He couldn’t deny that even after their wedding, he had allowed Limei to stay close, had rushed to her side whenever she feigned illness or distress, and had consistently chosen to believe her delicate tears over his own wife’s words.
Wenzhe became entirely quiet. His dark eyes shifted away, refusing to meet her piercing gaze.
[Look at him! He can’t even say it!] Yueqing’s inner thoughts roared with a bitter, triumphant sting, echoing loudly straight into his brain. [He expects me to act like a loyal, devoted wife when he’s been playing hero to his precious ex the entire time! What a joke!]
The quiet humiliation of her brain’s radio broadcast slammed into Wenzhe’s heart like a heavy hammer.
"I still hate you very, very much, General," Yueqing said softly, her voice carrying a cold, quiet weight that cut deeper than any of her usual loud tantrums.
She stepped back, straightening the sleeves of her silk gown, her eyes locking onto his with absolute clarity.
"This marriage is just for the sake of marriage," she continued, her tone steady and detached. "One day, we will probably never see each other again... and that is something I am completely prepared for. So please... if you see me with any man, just let me be."
Her words hung in the crisp morning air like frost.
Wenzhe stood frozen to the spot. His broad shoulders felt unusually heavy, his throat tight as if bound by iron wire.
[Yeah, stand there like the giant stone statue you are,] her inner voice muttered into his head, though for the first time, it sounded tired rather than vicious. [Once I max out these stupid system points and buy my freedom, I am getting out of this ancient world and leaving you and your precious Li Mei far, far behind.]