A Marriage Contract on Paper: Marrying a Male Spirit to Extend My Life - Chapter 3

Wei Yunchan heard footsteps approaching, and shortly after, Fu Jinshu came to a standstill right beside his bed.

“What are you looking at?” Wei Yunchan opened his eyes and asked a question born of slight curiosity, “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

Fu Jinshu tilted his head, seemingly pondering the meaning of his words, and then shook his head in a small, subtle gesture.

“Many people in this compound are afraid of me, and the same goes for those outside the estate so marrying me brings a hundred harms and not a single benefit. There are plenty of people who desperately wish for me to die sooner.” It was a slightly longer sentence, but Wei Yunchan paused again and again before slowly finishing it.

His voice sounded as though it were being dragged out of a broken bellows, exceptionally hoarse and grating. After finishing, he would tilt his head and cough violently a few times, a pair of eyeballs nearly popping out from his withered, emaciated cheeks in a manner that was both startling and terrifying.

Fu Jinshu still did not speak. Instead, he bent over slightly, took hold of his large palm, and used his index finger to write three characters stroke by stroke across his expansive palm.

[Won’t die.]

This was the second time in over a decade that Wei Yunchan had experienced such intimate physical contact with another person; the first time had been shortly before, when his and Fu Jinshu’s palms had touched.

The other person’s soft, delicate hand felt like a ball of cotton, carrying a faint trace of warmth.

However, Wei Yunchan’s tone did not soften at all; instead, it grew even more caustic: “Hah, so you’re a mute after all. If you did this for money, there was really no need to put on such a show for me. Or could it be that you genuinely think you’re some savior pointed out by an immortal?”

If it were any ordinary young woman, being maliciously insulted by him with such harsh remarks would have been on the verge of weeping tearfully and covering her face as she fled. Yet this Fu Jinshu was exceptionally strange; not only did he show no expression, but those eyes of his remained utterly calm and ripple-free.

It was as though those words had never even entered his ears.

Fu Jinshu indeed felt very little about these sharp remarks of his. To him, first, he was not a mute; second, he was not doing it for money; and third, in a certain sense, he truly was Wei Yunchan’s “savior.”

He had no need to bicker with a bedridden invalid.

Right now, the most important matter was to make Wei Yunchan better so that he would have the opportunity later to extract what he wanted from him.

While the two of them were locked in a stalemate, the door was tapped twice, and Fentao delivered a bowl of chicken soup personally brewed by Madam Wen.

Golden, bright, and glossy, with the chicken meat stewed until tender and falling apart, it made Fu Jinshu’s mouth water just looking at it.

Fentao handed the soup bowl over to Fu Jinshu and said respectfully, “Young Madam, please trouble yourself to feed the Eldest Young Master.”

Fu Jinshu took the bowl. He had never fed anyone else a meal before, and after scooping up a spoonful of chicken soup, he realized something was amiss—Wei Yunchan was still lying down, making it impossible to eat in that posture.

Thus, he set the bowl back down and went to help Wei Yunchan sit up. He did not know how to take care of someone, and didn’t even know to grab a soft pillow to prop up Wei Yunchan’s lower back. Wei Yunchan was already thin enough to bruise, and his entire frame of bones pressed directly against the rosewood bedframe, causing him to draw in a sharp breath of cold air.

Yet he was unwilling to show weakness either, furrowing his brows as he managed to prop himself up against the bed with a pale face, waiting stiffly for Fu Jinshu to feed him soup.

Fu Jinshu picked up the bowl again, took the spoon to scoop up a spoonful of chicken soup, and without knowing to blow on it a few times while it was steaming hot immediately brought it toward Wei Yunchan’s lips.

Wei Yunchan’s gaze darkened, and he turned his face away: “Intentional?”

Fu Jinshu blinked his large eyes, clearly contemplating the meaning of his words.

His expression was innocent and naive, carrying a hint of cluelessness. Wei Yunchan finally understood: although this maiden had striking looks, not only was she a mute, but she was also a complete fool.

No wonder she had foolishly and blindly married a man who could die at any moment, no wonder she wasn’t afraid of people, and no wonder she couldn’t do anything right.

Wei Yunchan coughed twice and could only remind her, “Hot.”

Fu Jinshu experienced a sudden epiphany.

He withdrew the spoon and puckered his lips to blow on it a few times. His lips were also beautifully shaped—full and rosy—and his entire person exuded a vibrant, living vitality from head to toe.

The soft flesh of his cheeks sank inward and then bounced right back out, looking rather interesting.

Wei Yunchan really had never seen any young lady grow up looking this dewy and fresh. This maiden’s facial features hadn’t fully matured yet; in another year or two, wouldn’t she blossom into something even more refined and charming?

And yet, she was both mute and foolish; such a pretty shell would only invite disaster for her rather than bring any blessings.

Upon second thought whether he himself could even live to see a few years from now was still a question, so why bother worrying over a little mute?

After drinking a few sips of the chicken soup, Wei Yunchan lost all desire to continue. However, in Fu Jinshu’s eyes, eating this little was clearly not enough. Fu Jinshu used the chopsticks from the side to pick up a piece of chicken meat and brought it to Wei Yunchan’s lips, signaling with his eyes for the other party to eat it.

Wei Yunchan turned his head away: “Not eating. Help me lie down.”

Fu Jinshu didn’t budge, and the chopsticks chased after his mouth, pressing the chicken meat right against his lips.

It was very much the attitude of if you don’t eat, I won’t stop.

Tiresome, foolish, and entirely unable to read the room.

Wei Yunchan gave a forceful lift of his arm and knocked his arm aside: “Scram.”

Because this movement was too sudden, Fu Jinshu was caught off guard, and the chicken soup in his hands was consequently knocked over onto the floor by Wei Yunchan.

With a clatter, Fu Jinshu lowered his eyelids—what a waste of natural resources; such a pity.

That look of his, however, appeared aggrieved and helpless in Wei Yunchan’s eyes. Yet there was not the slightest shred of guilt in Wei Yunchan’s heart; he only felt that this little mute had brought it upon herself.

Fu Jinshu helped Wei Yunchan lie back down, then crouched down to clean up the broken shards of the soup bowl. Wei Yunchan said in a cold voice, “Let the servants clean it up. Also, go change out of that wedding robe of yours; it’s an eyesore to look at.”

With that, he closed his eyes and paid Fu Jinshu no further heed. He had expended far too much physical energy today and was truly bone-weary. Amidst a hazy drowsiness, he drifted off to sleep once more.

In the evening, Fu Jinshu was led by the servants to the front hall for dinner. At the long table, several unfamiliar faces were already seated men and women, old and young.

Seeing him arrive, Madam Wen beckoned, “Jinshu, come here to Mother.”

Fu Jinshu took his seat.

“So this is the bride Xiqin took in this morning? He looks so well-behaved, though he seems rather young. And why is he still dressed like a boy?” asked a woman wearing a dark-green, cross-collared, embroidered brocade jacket with a smiling expression.

This person was precisely Wei Zhiyin’s concubine, Shuangniang.

Back then, Shuangniang had served Wei Zhiyin even earlier than Madam Wen, but because of her humble status, she was unworthy of the position of official wife. Later on, when Madam Wen married in, she was elevated to a concubine by Wei Zhiyin.

Unlike Madam Wen, Shuangniang had given birth to two sons and a daughter over the years. Although these children were not dragons and phoenixes among men, they were at least physically healthy and excelled in both literary and martial arts. In Shuangniang’s view, purely in terms of appearance, her own three children were far more outstanding than that half-dead medicine-pot Wei Yunchan.

Hearing this morning that Wei Zhiyin and Madam Wen had found a bride for Wei Yunchan to ward off bad luck, and had even forbidden others from going to look, Shuangniang felt all the more gleeful upon seeing him now no matter how good-looking this child was, he was clearly a young boy after all.

The legitimate eldest son of the Yunliang City Lord taking a male wife. Spreading that out, wouldn’t it become the laughingstock of everyone?

How could Madam Wen not hear the hidden barbs in her words? Yet her expression remained gentle all the same: “Mhm, he is a boy. Jinshu cannot speak and cannot address people properly, so I must ask everyone to be a bit more considerate.”

Oh, so he turned out to be a mute after all.

Shuangniang’s children were all sizing Fu Jinshu up—some with mockery, some with curiosity, while an obscure, astonished gaze also fell upon Fu Jinshu.

Fu Jinshu rather liked this Madam Wen. Although the other party also harbored ulterior motives regarding him, Madam Wen’s inherent nature was pure and kind, her attitude toward others was amicable, and she was not annoying in the least. Secondly, Fu Jinshu quite liked this Wei family—because the Wei family’s cook truly had some impressive culinary skills, and the dishes prepared matched Fu Jinshu’s preferences to a tee.

After eating his fill, Fu Jinshu was once again led by the servants back to Wei Yunchan’s courtyard.

Wei Yunchan had yet to wake up, which meant he wouldn’t be able to eat dinner either.

By the time he finished washing up, the night had grown deep and quiet.

Fu Jinshu bit the index finger of his right hand, letting fresh blood well up in a steady stream. Out of thin air, he produced several talisman papers, beginning to fluently trace and write upon them using his own fresh blood.

A flash of golden light swept past, and the talismans automatically adhered to the four corners of the room southeast, northwest. Following that, Fu Jinshu used both hands to form hand seals, bringing his index and middle fingers together, and closed his eyes to tap against his own brow.

When he opened his eyes again, the previously normal room had turned eerie and terrifying—groping masses of “black mist” were piled throughout the entire chamber, and the cluster of “black mist” lingering right beside Wei Yunchan was even denser, as if about to swallow him whole.

The Curse of Dead Qi.

This was only the second time Fu Jinshu had ever laid eyes on this thing; the first time had been a small cluster he had conjured up himself while studying Daoist techniques under Grandmaster Heiji.

According to ancient texts, if one wanted to refine the Curse of Dead Qi to such a massive scale, “resentment” and “human blood” were indispensable.

Unless one was a Daoist prodigy like Fu Jinshu, who could easily accomplish it simply by forming a few hand seals, spilling a single drop of blood, and drawing a few talismans.

While creating it was simple, breaking it was not particularly difficult either. It was just that Wei Yunchan had suffered from the erosion of dead Qi for far too long, and his foundation was already poor to begin with. To completely heal him fully, he would have to rely on the Netherworld Yellow Springs Water to cleanse his marrow and wash away his impurities.

That Yellow Springs Water was the hardest thing of all to find.

Fu Jinshu had never been to the Netherworld before; far from feeling fear, he instead felt a surge of mild excitement and anticipation.