Chapter 15.2

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Fan Changyu, remembering the lie she had told, found herself at a loss and replied defensively, “When did I ever cry?”

Xie Zheng, who hated meddling in others’ affairs, had only stepped in because this woman had once saved his life; he couldn’t bear watching her waste her time on a man like that. Now, hearing her try to deny it, he didn’t bother responding further.

Just then, Aunt Zhao from next door rushed over. “I heard that the Song family made a show of giving you silver before they left. Must have been for the neighbors’ benefit, huh? Those two are masters at acting like they’re so generous! Why, on the day of your wedding, he even had the nerve to send you those ridiculous clay figurines…”

Halfway through her rant, Aunt Zhao spotted Xie Zheng, and her words trailed off. She quickly covered her mouth, swallowing the rest of her complaints.

Xie Zheng said nothing, only cast Fan Changyu a brief, cutting glance with his cold, piercing phoenix eyes, the look carrying an unmistakable hint of mocking challenge, as if daring her to continue her denials.

Fan Changyu held back her frustration, remaining silent. She hadn’t expected that one little lie in a moment of desperation would turn into such a source of mockery from Xie Zheng.

It wasn’t until Xie Zheng had gone back inside that Aunt Zhao, looking apologetic, turned to her. “I really should know better than to run my mouth like that…”

Fan Changyu, feeling a bit weary, just replied, “It’s nothing.” At worst, she’d just endure a bit more of that man’s scorn, she thought.

She invited Aunt Zhao to sit by the hearth and warm herself. As she settled in, Aunt Zhao couldn’t help but add, “That Song fellow pulling a stunt like this today—just don’t let it get in the way of things between you and your husband.”

Fan Changyu couldn’t help but think it would be a miracle if she and that sharp-tongued man had any real feelings for each other at all. She considered telling Aunt Zhao the truth, but with the property dispute still unresolved, she didn’t want to complicate matters, so she simply replied, “It won’t.”

Aunt Zhao suddenly asked, “Are you still sleeping in the north room with Ningniang?”

Fan Changyu gave a simple “Mm-hmm,” but Aunt Zhao’s brows immediately furrowed. “Why don’t you let Ningniang sleep over with me tonight?”

Realizing the implication behind her words, Fan Changyu nearly choked on her own saliva and quickly declined.

Aunt Zhao shot her a mildly exasperated look. “You and your husband have properly bowed to heaven and earth—you’re legally married. What are you so shy about?”

Fan Changyu trotted out her usual excuse. “He’s still injured.”

Aunt Zhao’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you read that booklet I gave you? There are ways to work around that…”

At this point, even Aunt Zhao grew a little flustered and stopped herself, sighing. “I’m just worried for you. Your husband’s looks are even more striking than Song Yan’s, and he’s educated too. Right now, with his injuries, he depends on you, so this is the perfect time for you two to build a real bond. But once he’s recovered, if he decides to leave, what will you do? Even if it comes to that, it would be wise for you to have a child with him. That way, if your uncle’s family tries to stir up trouble again, you’ll have something to fall back on.”

Fan Changyu knew Aunt Zhao meant well, so she gave a vague response, saying she understood.

After Aunt Zhao left, she sighed, feeling a bit defeated. The silver hairpin was lost for good, she’d been humiliated by the Song family, but at least she’d managed to retrieve the twenty taels her father had lent them—now they had a small fortune, which was a relief. The only lingering annoyance was the disdainful looks from that man, as if he were silently asking, Are you blind? And all because of a lie she’d told herself.

As she stood up to head to the kitchen, she froze. The booklet… the one Aunt Zhao gave her!

In the whirlwind of the wedding preparations, Aunt Zhao had handed her a booklet that she’d hastily skimmed, feeling too embarrassed to read closely. She’d shoved it under the pillow in the wedding chamber and completely forgotten about it in the days that followed. Who knew if he had seen it?

The thought alone made her scalp tingle.

She quickly gathered a fresh set of bed linens and, holding them in her arms, went to the door of the south room, knocking lightly.

A cool, indifferent voice came from inside. “Come in.”

Pushing the door open, she said, “With the new year approaching, I’m changing out all the bedding to wash it.”

The entire room had only recently been furnished for the wedding, so changing the bedding was hardly necessary. Her excuse was flimsy, but Xie Zheng, seated at an old, wobbly wooden desk, merely held his brush without so much as glancing her way, giving a faint nod.

Fan Changyu, seeing him absorbed in his writing, let out a quiet breath of relief. With guilty determination, she quickly lifted the pillow to retrieve the booklet, only to find it missing.

She froze, glancing furtively at Xie Zheng by the window. He seemed oblivious to her actions, so she continued stripping the bed, hoping it might have slipped into the sheets somewhere.

After checking under every layer, even shaking out the mattress, she still found no trace of the booklet. Her heart sank.

Then, from behind her, a cool voice broke the silence. “Need some help?”

Fan Changyu’s entire back stiffened. Keeping a straight face, she replied, “No need, just dusting off the bedding.”

She tossed the old sheets and blankets into the laundry basket with a blank expression and replaced them with a set of freshly washed, slightly worn linens. The bedding had two layers: a plain cotton bottom and an embroidered top layer. She would need to sew the two together with the cotton batting sandwiched in between.

Her nerves showed as she clumsily pricked her fingers several times while sewing, her face tight with concentration and silence.

It wasn’t until she finally left the room that Xie Zheng set his brush down, his gaze drifting to the booklet he’d used to prop up one of the table’s uneven legs. His brows furrowed slightly.

With only a thin wall separating this room from the main hall, he had overheard Aunt Zhao’s entire conversation.

So, she was looking for this booklet, was she?