After the Cold and Aloof Husband's Mask Falls - Chapter 37

Cui Jue’s soft, concerned inquiry sent a jolt of alarm through Gu Wanlan.

The people who had taken the Roulan Prince from her hands were of the Cui family. Cui Jue and Cui Qiong were clearly close; if Cui Jue mentioned her left arm injury to his brother, Cui Qiong would likely connect the dots and suspect that “Feiyan”—the Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guards—was actually Gu Wanlan.

While her identity as Feiyan wasn’t a forbidden secret, it was a trump card she held against her enemies. Unless absolutely necessary, she did not want to reveal it to the world.

“Sister, she—”

Gu Lehuan was about to speak when Gu Wanlan grabbed her arm. Simultaneously, a slightly weary voice drifted from behind the bed curtains.

“Is there anything to eat? I’m quite hungry.”

Lehuan hurried to reply, “Yes, Sister! Wait for me—”

“Not you,” Gu Wanlan interrupted, her voice muffled. “Isn’t there someone else standing next to you?”

Lehuan paused, glancing at Cui Jue. “Why?” she asked blankly.

“I just… don’t want to see him for a moment,” Gu Wanlan grumbled.

Hearing this, Cui Jue let out a soft chuckle. “Roasted mutton, wild mushroom soup, and a side of preserved fruits. How does that sound?”

She had spoken on a whim, but hearing him list her favorite dishes made her stomach growl in earnest.

“Splendid! Splendid! I’ll trouble my husband, then.”

With a faint smile, Cui Jue left the room.

Once he was gone, Lehuan frowned and sat by the bed, pulling back the curtain. “Sister, why won’t you let him know about your left arm—”

She stopped mid-sentence. Upon seeing the state of Gu Wanlan inside the curtains, even Lehuan’s ears turned crimson. She quickly averted her gaze and dropped the curtain back into place, fuming. “He… he went too far!”

Gu Wanlan sat up, rubbing her sore waist. She let out a lazy yawn. “It’s fine. I gave as good as I got.”

Lehuan suddenly remembered the scene from that morning when Cui Jue had gone to pay his respects to their mother. He had arrived with his usual ethereal grace, but perhaps because he was in a rush, he had walked halfway through the Marquis’s manor sporting a neck covered in very visible, very red bite marks.

It wasn’t until Qi Rong had dropped a subtle hint during the greeting that Cui Jue realized, covering his neck and apologizing profusely for his “lapse in etiquette.” Consequently, rumors that the eldest Miss Gu was “extremely fond” of her new husband had already begun to spread.

Lehuan suppressed her embarrassment but couldn’t help her curiosity. “Sister… how does it feel?”

Though the question was vague, Gu Wanlan understood perfectly. She looked at her curious sister and smiled. “It is, naturally, quite good. But in such matters, it is the woman who bears the physical consequences. Don’t go trying it just out of curiosity.”

Lehuan’s gaze fell on Gu Wanlan’s stomach. “So, Sister, are you ready for… a child?”

Gu Wanlan climbed out of bed, stretching her aching limbs. “Of course. When it comes to having an heir, the sooner the better.”

Lehuan bit her lip. “Is it for the sake of the Marquis’s title?”

Gu Wanlan shook her head. “Yes and no. Mostly, it’s for myself.”

She had been contemplating this since her return to the capital. The current political stalemate wouldn’t last forever. She needed this window of time to have a child, through whom she could truly solidify her control over the family title and military power. Once she held those, she would no longer be a bird trapped in the cage of the Western Capital.

“Does he know?”

Gu Wanlan’s hands paused while tying her robes. She realized with a start that she had never truly thought about a “future” with Cui Jue. Their beginning was entirely her own cold calculation. An unidentifiable emotion tangled in her heart, and she ruffled her hair in frustration. For the first time, the usually decisive woman felt the urge to run. “We’ll see.”

A Memory in the Snow

Outside on the veranda, Cui Jue stood by the window holding a plate of jujube cakes. He lowered his eyelashes as a cold wind swirled through the courtyard.

He looked up and realized that, at some unknown point, it had begun to snow.

For some reason, his mind drifted back to his past life—to the first time he and Gu Wanlan had been separated on a snowy day.

Changping Pass was a desolate border town, a world apart from the flourishing Western Capital. At that time, Cui Jue had just turned fifteen. Cast out by his family and physically scarred, he had been ready to leave the world behind. Though he had been lured into escaping the Cui family’s clutches by the young Gu Wanlan, who had burst into his carriage, he hadn’t known where their lives were headed.

“Brother, there’s so much good food in Changping Pass. Why don’t we stay here?” The ragged girl, barely twelve or thirteen, clung to his sleeve.

The youth, his throat ruined by fire and unable to speak, simply pulled his sleeve away and pointed in the opposite direction. He wanted her to go.

But the girl refused to leave him. “I can’t, Brother. When we walked past just now, every old lady on this street saw us and thinks we’re siblings fleeing disaster. If you abandon me, I’ll just cry. Wherever you go, I’ll follow and cry.”

Cui Jue was nearly amused by her audacity. She was young, but she was sharp—clearly taking him for a fool. When she had first hid in his carriage, he had caught a glimpse of her pursuers. They were professional fighters with stable footwork, and a few had Roulan accents. She was using him to forge a new identity and evade them.

Had he still been the noble scion he once was—taught to be virtuous and magnanimous—he might have saved her and investigated the truth. But everything he once believed in had been shattered. He was only weary of the world.

He slowly looked up, brushing back the matted hair covering his face. Under the winter sun, the hideous scars on the left side of his face were exposed—gnarled like ugly earthworms crawling across his pale skin.

The girl seemed stunned. She stood there, mouth agape, for a long time.

Cui Jue dropped his hand, indifferent. Once his hair hid the scars again, he pushed past her and walked away. If he couldn’t even accept his own face, how could anyone else?

As they brushed past, his sleeve was caught again.

“Don’t go! Brother, this is actually perfect!”

…Perfect? Cui Jue wondered if he had misheard.

This time, Gu Wanlan didn’t wait for him to pull away. She seized his arm. “I was worried before because you look so thin and frail. I wondered how you’d protect me if something happened. But now I don’t have to worry—”

The girl stood on her tiptoes, carefully tucking the hair behind his ears. Her eyes were filled with earnestness. “On the grasslands, a lone beast is easily hunted. But there is one kind the others fear: the beast covered in scars. A beast that has clearly clawed its way back from the gates of hell.”

“These scars on your face, Brother… they are your precious claws to ward off the world.”

Perhaps her eyes were too bright, or perhaps he simply didn’t mind having a companion for a short while. Before he knew it, they had become a pair of “beggar siblings” in Changping Pass.

The mute youth used the face he once considered a shame to protect her while they begged on every street. When they received a bit of extra coin, Gu Wanlan would hide it away for his medicine. Her happiest moments were when they scavenged leftovers from taverns, because the youth—who hadn’t even known how to light a fire at first—had developed a top-tier culinary skill just by tasting. She loved his cooking.

Cui Jue thought they would live like this forever. Once his hand and throat were healed, he could find work in a kitchen. He would give her a good life and find her… a good marriage.

But on New Year’s Eve that same year, it snowed heavily in Changping Pass.

Because she had said she wanted his roasted mutton for the holiday, he headed out early through the deep snow. He gestured for her to keep the door of the ruined temple locked; she had laughed and called him a nag.

The trip there was smooth. On the way back, he encountered a group of beggars they had clashed with before. They were excitedly discussing a “woman.” Not wanting Gu Wanlan to wait, he took a side alley to avoid them.

But when he returned with his ingredients, he was met with a kicked-in door and a pool of blood in the snow.

The door, hanging precariously from the frame, looked like the gaping maw of a beast mocking him. He searched frantically through the blizzard, only to hear that the group of beggars he had avoided had been seen near the temple. He forced himself to get up, clutching a sharp stone, to hunt them down—but fate played a cruel joke. By the time he found them, they had all been slaughtered by Roulan infiltrators.

He lost all trace of Gu Wanlan. That day, he finally understood the other meaning of her words. A fake is always a fake. Without real claws and fangs, he could protect no one in this world.

That was their first separation in his previous life. That was why he hated the snow.

The Present

Cui Jue pulled his thoughts back from the falling snow. Inside, the sisters had moved on to discussing cosmetics. He stepped into the warm room with the plate of jujube cakes. “The cakes are still warm. Eat something to settle your stomach.”

Seeing him enter, Lehuan packed her medicine bag and winked at Gu Wanlan. “Sister, I’ve applied the medicine to the scrape on your left arm. Be careful when walking through the manor; don’t trip again.”

“I know, I’ll be careful.” Sensing Cui Jue’s gaze, Gu Wanlan lowered her sleeve, hiding a red “scrape” on her arm.

This was the plan Lehuan had devised when she realized Gu Wanlan wanted to hide her true injury. While he was out, Lehuan had used rouge to paint a convincing, superficial scrape over the area. Cui Jue glanced at it and, seeing it wasn’t serious, didn’t press further.

After Lehuan left, Cui Jue dismissed the maids and placed the cakes on the table. Gu Wanlan reached out, her appetite piqued by the sweet scent.

“Does My Lady want a child?”

“What?!” Gu Wanlan nearly choked. The sudden question hit her like a physical blow.

“I am willing to give you anything you desire.”

Cui Jue leaned down. His hair slid over his shoulder, brushing her cheek with a tingly itch. Gu Wanlan watched as his face grew closer and closer until their noses touched and their breaths mingled.

Her heart hammered. Just as she thought he was going to kiss her, he shifted, burying his face in her shoulder. His voice was muffled and heavy.

“But Wanlan… when will you remember me?”