My Lady Says She Wants to Marry Me - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Su Wanrou sat in the bath, feeling the hot water flow over her skin.

The exhaustion that had clouded her mind began to clear. She scooped up handfuls of water and poured them over her head, letting the heat wash away the last of the mountain grime. As the droplets slid off her jade-like skin, she tilted her head back and let out a long sigh of contentment.

Outside in the courtyard, Lu Youming sat on a stone bench, listening to the splashing water. Her mind was elsewhere—on Qinghe County. The flood they had encountered was powerful enough to have submerged the entire county seat. She suspected something was wrong; Magistrate Chen’s “invitation” for them to stay and recover felt like a polite way to keep them away from a chaotic situation.

In another part of the manor, Magistrate Chen was conferring with his advisors. “The disaster in Qinghe is severe, yet the Imperial Court has not issued a formal decree for relief,” he noted grimly.

“With the border conflicts escalating, the lords in the capital are likely still debating the logistics,” his strategist replied cautiously.

“Sigh,” Chen slumped into his chair. “Master Secretary, what do you think of this Sheriff Lu?”

“A capable one,” the secretary replied. “To survive a torrent like that and pull a spouse out alive—that takes more than luck. That takes real skill.”

Magistrate Chen nodded. Ten people fall into a flood, nine die, and the tenth is usually half-dead. Yet Lu Youming had drifted a hundred li and arrived relatively unscathed. “She is someone worth befriending. Treat her well, and we secure a future favor.”

Once they were clean and dressed in fresh clothes, Lu Youming and Su Wanrou finally ate their first hot meal in days. A young maid stood by, watching them. She was mesmerized by Su Wanrou’s elegance; even when starving, the lady ate with a refined grace that surpassed any local noblewoman the maid had ever seen.

That night, Lu Youming habitually grabbed a blanket to make a bed on the floor. Su Wanrou, already half-asleep on the bed, propped herself up on a white wrist and pouted. “You slept holding me all of last night; why are you sleeping on the floor now? Get up here.”

Lu Youming froze, clutching the thin quilt. Seeing her dazed expression, Su Wanrou rolled her eyes and patted the space beside her. “Hurry up.”

Lu Youming cautiously climbed onto the bed. It had been since their wedding night—when they’d struck their “deal”—that she had shared a bed with her “wife.” As she lay down on the soft mattress, the contrast with the hard ground of the past few days made her feel uneasy at first.

“Wife,” Lu Youming whispered into the darkness. “I think something happened back in Qinghe.”

“The court likely failed to send relief,” Su Wanrou murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “There’s probably trouble.”

Lu Youming sat up. That’s it. If the central government was distracted by war, the local administration would be left to rot. In reality, she was right. Minister Shao Jiechuan was currently the only one desperately trying to manage the disaster, but with half the counties in Jinling Prefecture submerged, bodies were piling up and food was running out. Refugees were already starting to flee.

During the night, Su Wanrou jolted in her sleep, a cold sweat breaking out as she dreamt of drowning. Lu Youming woke instantly and reached out to pat her back rhythmically.

Su Wanrou woke from the nightmare, feeling the steady pat-pat-pat on her back. It was soothing, until Lu Youming’s hand, moving in a daze, accidentally landed a bit higher on her chest. Su Wanrou gasped at the slight pressure and quickly grabbed the wayward hand.

“Do you think you’re soothing a toddler?” she whispered with a blush, though Lu Youming was already snoring lightly again. She held onto the hand, pulling it close to her as the warmth from the other woman finally chased away the lingering terror of the dream.

The next morning, Lu Youming woke up to find her left arm completely dead. Su Wanrou was using it as a pillow, sleeping like a content child with a faint red mark on her cheek from the fabric. As much as she appreciated the beauty of the scene, the “pins and needles” in her arm were agonizing. She gingerly slid her arm out, hissing, “Sss… so numb.”

Su Wanrou, who had actually woken up the moment Lu Youming moved, kept her eyes shut, her face heating up as she turned away to hide her embarrassment.

After breakfast, the doctor arrived. “The Madam’s constitution is weak, her spirit is unsettled, and the cold has entered her body,” he diagnosed. “She needs rest, or she may face difficulties bearing children in the future.”

Once the doctor left, Su Wanrou looked at Lu Youming in shock. “The doctor… he didn’t realize you were a woman?”

“I don’t know why,” Lu Youming admitted. “My master, Daoist Puzhen, once said my pulse is abnormal—it feels indistinguishable from a man’s.” This was Lu Youming’s “gold finger” (special ability) in this world, though she didn’t know if it was a gift from the heavens or a physical defect.

“Is it true?” Su Wanrou stood up and started walking circles around her. “I’m just realizing… you’re very tall.”

“Eat more meat, drink milk, and sleep more, and you’ll grow tall too,” Lu Youming laughed, letting the girl measure herself against her shoulder. To any outsider, it looked like a picture of marital bliss—a husband tenderly comforting his wife after hearing bad news about their future heirs.

Su Wanrou wrapped her arms around Lu Youming’s waist, resting her head on her shoulder. “Being tall is useful,” she teased, looking up with a playful wink. Lu Youming went stiff, her breath hitching as their faces were mere centimeters apart.

By the fifth day, news arrived that the imperial relief party had finally set out. Lu Youming knew it was time to leave. On the sixth morning, they departed on horseback, escorted by a few local guards.

Lu Youming held Su Wanrou in front of her on the saddle. As the horse trotted, the movement brought them close together. Su Wanrou could feel the friction of Lu Youming’s chest against her back, though the soft curves were somewhat hidden by the leather binder. They had chosen horses over a carriage to save time, hoping to reach Jinling Prefecture by nightfall before any more refugees clogged the roads.