How Could I Resist His Madness and Charm [Transmigration] - Chapter 21

Jia Yufang said, “Brother Yun has been with us for over two years now. He’s diligent and handsome.”

Luo Yan was puzzled but nodded along, “Yes, A-Yun treats me well. Grandmother, why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Jia Yufang studied her expression, slowly enunciating each word, “What would you think of having Brother Yun as your husband?”

She understood every word individually, but it took her a few moments to piece them together into meaning. Instantly, it felt as if she had mistakenly stepped into a steaming bathhouse, her ears buzzed, and heat rushed from head to toe.

Jia Yufang, having lived decades longer, could easily tell Luo Yan was blushing. Smiling, she continued, “If you want to marry into a noble family, you’d have to go to the capital. But staying in the village, no one compares to Brother Yun. The two of you get along well, and in my opinion, you could get engaged next spring.”

Luo Yan couldn’t bring herself to refuse, though she desperately wanted to tell her grandmother that she wasn’t even sure she’d survive the coming winter.

“Back in Cangxi, our household entertained many young men,” Jia Yufang shook her head. “They were lazy and often caused trouble, some even had illegitimate children before marriage. Marrying into such a family would be like jumping into a pit of fire.”

But Zhu Yun had come to Qingyuan Village at thirteen and grown up right under their watch. They knew him inside and out, clean and reliable.

Moreover, it was a few martial artists who had saved Luo Yan and helped the grandmother and granddaughter escape Cangxi. Jia Yufang couldn’t help but extend her fondness to Zhu Yun as well.

Luo Yan pressed a teacup against her cheek to cool herself and asked, “From the sound of it, this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment idea.”

“Of course not.”

Jia Yufang recalled their conversation from two years ago and briefly recounted it to Luo Yan, feeling a sense of relief at sharing the secret. “Brother Yun is a bit silly too, he suddenly said ‘child husband.’ At the time, I was so happy I forgot to correct him.”

She found the term fitting and grinned, her almond-shaped eyes curving like crescent moons. “He came into our home at such a young age, isn’t he just my child husband?”

“From the sound of it, Brother Yan, you’re willing to settle this?”

Hearing this, Luo Yan covered her face in embarrassment, peeking at her grandmother through her fingers. “I’m willing.”

At that moment, Jia Yufang was immensely grateful she hadn’t sent Zhu Yun away back then.

But having the family’s approval wasn’t enough, they still had to inform the capital. Luo Yan remained worried about the plot. Taking advantage of her grandmother’s illiteracy, she only mentioned in her reply that her marriage was not something her cousin needed to concern himself with.

As for the Ye family, she couldn’t be bothered to write more.

After finishing the short letter, her grandmother was still chuckling to herself, muttering, “Both are like my own, no need to worry about dividing the family. When fortune comes, you can’t stop it. Once the engagement is settled, we’ll buy a house in town for the newlyweds. It’ll be convenient for our great-grandchildren’s schooling too.”

“Grandmother!” Luo Yan covered her ears in embarrassment. “I’m still young, what great-grandchildren?”

Jia Yufang covered her mouth with her hand. “You write in peace. I’ll go outside to laugh.”

“…”

After the ink dried, Luo Yan thought for a moment and added:

Thank you, cousin, for your care. I am doing well in Linchuan. But every time I receive gifts from you, I am reminded of my late parents and cannot sleep at night. From now on, let us cease contact.

The tone might have been a bit harsh.

But she was truly afraid of going to the capital and couldn’t bring herself to speak softly to Cui Wuyang either.

While her left and right brains were locked in internal conflict, a hand with distinct knuckles snatched the letter away. Zhu Yun quickly scanned it and commented, “Too roundabout. You should just tell him to get lost.”

The young man had just bathed, his body carrying the fresh scent of soap beans. His sharp features were softened by the candlelight.

With each glance, Luo Yan felt her breath catch a little more.

“You…”

He pressed the back of his hand against her flushed earlobe, so warm. “What were you talking about earlier? Grandmother is digging holes in the yard in the middle of the night.”

She was genuinely digging.

Jia Yufang found the buried daughter’s wine and felt slightly reassured before covering it with soil again.

Luo Yan rubbed her forehead. “Grandmother really doesn’t mind the trouble.”

Zhu Yun suddenly understood. He cupped her chin and leaned in to ask, “Were you discussing our marriage, right?”

She shook her head slightly, signaling for him to let go. Instead, he drew even closer until their foreheads touched.

His eyes sparkled, and the corners of his lips lifted silently, as if he had figured many things out in an instant. He murmured to himself, “So you’re blushing not out of guilt, but shyness.”

“Shut up.”

“Yanyan.” Zhu Yun raised an eyebrow, letting her see the laughter in his eyes. “You’re so easily flustered.”

Luo Yan couldn’t take it anymore. She slapped his hand away and snapped, “And you? Shameless. Do you even understand what love is, to be thinking about marriage?”

His long lashes fluttered, revealing a puzzled expression.

“I knew it.” Luo Yan turned her face away. The candlelight danced and flickered in her pupils. “You don’t understand romance at all.”

As soon as she spoke, she was startled by the hint of grievance in her own voice. She silently picked up a teacup.

She took small, deliberate sips, trying to be as slow as possible, when she suddenly noticed how unusually quiet Zhu Yun had become. Unable to resist, she cautiously turned slightly, hoping to sneak a glance out of the corner of her eye.

Instead, she found the young man with his hands crossed, chin resting on the back of them, watching her with keen interest.

Luo Yan’s irritation flared. “What are you staring at?”

Zhu Yun blinked. “You kissed my cup.”

“?”

She looked down at the plain white porcelain cup in her hand, about to retort, when she remembered that her grandmother had cleared the cups before leaving. This really was Zhu Yun’s newly fetched cup, still half-filled with tea.

“Ahem.” She stammered, “Why be so particular among family?”

Zhu Yun straightened up, unconsciously touching his earlobe and rubbing it a few times before speaking. “You did kiss my cup.”

Just moments ago, Luo Yan had clearly pressed her lips exactly where he had drunk, leaving a faint trace of her lipstick.

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became, and his breathing grew warm.

“I picked up the wrong one,” Luo Yan insisted. “Besides, it’s ‘using’ your cup, not ‘kissing’ it. Watch your wording.”

“You’re blushing again.”

“I’m angry.”

“Why would you be angry about kissing me?” Zhu Yun refilled the cup with tea, turned the side with the lip print toward himself, and drank from it. “I wouldn’t be angry.”

Luo Yan watched as he brought the cup to his lips, lingering for a few seconds before slowly pulling away. Instantly, her brows furrowed, and her face turned as red as a cooked shrimp. She wanted to demand why he had kissed her cup.

“……”

Zhu Yun watched quietly, faintly discerning the difference between her guilt and her shyness.

When guilty, her voice would often rise unconsciously, and she would look him straight in the eye, full of fighting spirit. But when shy, her gaze would dart away, and if she couldn’t win the argument, she would fall silent immediately.

Just like now.

The atmosphere grew intimate in the silence.

Luo Yan was so flustered that she snatched up the fallen letter and fled to the study without a word. When the scent of bath beans reached her, her steps hesitated for the first time.

This place had long become Zhu Yun’s bedroom, why had she never realized it?

A newly added weapon rack had replaced the antique shelf, holding long swords, curved blades, silver whips, and other items, with arm guards and daggers resting in a box. The bed had been replaced too, changing from a single-person luohan bed to a spacious canopy bed.

Not to mention the screen that partitioned off a bathing area, where a bathtub and his personal garments were placed.

But…

The writing desk was shared by both of them, and there were two armchairs. A few jade hairpins lay scattered before the bronze mirror, and a woman’s cloak embroidered with plum blossoms hung on the plain clothes rack.

Even by the bedside, secret manuals and storybooks were piled together.

Traces of her presence were everywhere, as if they were already a married couple.

Footsteps sounded behind her. With no way to retreat, she steeled herself and entered the room, rummaging for the manuscript she had bound. Feigning calm, she asked, “Yesterday, you mentioned that the Seven Stars Sect Leader was killed by his concubine and son working together. What happened next? Did his son inherit the sect leader position?”

“Probably.”

Zhu Yun carried a teapot and a cup, his eyes drifting to the oddly shaped characters she had written, looking puzzled. “These are all trivial matters of the martial world. Are they worth recording?”

Luo Yan mumbled in response, “Just think of me as having too much time on my hands.”

About eight months ago, she had heard events from Zhu Yun that matched the original book’s plot and realized that although he lived in Qingyuan Village, he was remarkably well-informed about the martial world.

Since then, she had pestered him for information, filling two thick stacks of notes, though aside from spoilers, they seemed to serve no other purpose?

“Why don’t I have the luck of a ‘Dragon Proud Heaven’?” she grumbled, venting her frustration by crossing out the words “male lead.” “What’s the use of knowing the future if it’s someone else’s future?”

“What are you muttering about?”

Zhu Yun mischievously pinched her puffed-up cheek, his eyes brimming with laughter.

Luo Yan looked up, and for some inexplicable reason, her anger melted away. She clasped his hand and, meeting his startled gaze, said earnestly, “A-Yun, you’ve always been curious about my relationship with my cousin.”

“I haven’t,” he retorted, not pulling his hand back but sulkily lowering his lashes.

She rubbed her cheek against his palm appeasingly and continued, “My cousin is a child of fate. There’s nothing wrong with him personally, but those around him will die for various reasons because of him. That’s why I’m so reluctant to go to the capital.”

Zhu Yun lifted his eyelids slightly to show he was listening.

“I’ve never met my cousin,” Luo Yan paused, her voice growing softer. “I’m willing to marry you. Please stop being jealous of my cousin from now on.”

The fingers caressing her cheek suddenly trembled, like countless tiny feathers brushing lightly, stirring a faint itch that traveled from her skin to her heart.

Then, she clearly felt the boy’s body temperature rise, his breathing growing uneven.

But Luo Yan never dared to look at him directly.

“Yanyan,” Zhu Yun suddenly withdrew his hand, guiding her to lean against his chest, and said with wonder, “Listen, it’s beating as fast as yours.”

“…”

“I think… I like you.”

She lifted her face in disbelief, meeting the boy’s utterly sincere gaze. He added triumphantly, “It’s exactly what you called ‘romantic feelings between a man and a woman.'”

“…”

This wasn’t the first time Zhu Yun had experienced this “symptom,” nor was it rare to see Luo Yan blush, accompanied by a “thump-thump” heartbeat that was excessively strong.

But today, the way their heartbeats intertwined was truly the first time. He pondered it briefly and immediately understood the reason.

Luo Yan couldn’t refute him, and she even genuinely admired his insight. But compared to the young man’s sudden enlightenment, she felt threads of panic beginning to stir within her.

“A-Yun,” she released her tightly bitten lip and said sorrowfully, “I might die.”