To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Skin-to-Skin Contact

The evening breeze was slightly chilly, blowing against Jiang Shu’s swollen face and sending stabs of piercing pain through her.

Beyond the physical discomfort, Jiang Shu felt a profound sense of humiliation. Summoning a sudden burst of courage, she snatched the veiled hat back from Lu Changji’s hand and pulled it clumsily over her head, hiding her disfigured face.

Clutching the edges of the veil tightly with both hands, her voice carried a trace of coldness: “Brother-in-law, you have overstepped your bounds.”

Lu Changji did not take offense at her indignation. His naturally refined features seemed to grow even gentler. He leaned down slightly to look at her and said softly, “I assumed you had prepared everything thoroughly. How did you still end up in this state?”

He pointed out the crux of the matter with surgical precision, making Jiang Shu feel even more ashamed. She had plotted for so long, and though Lu Changji had glimpsed the darker parts of her soul that she kept hidden, she had still managed to end up looking this pathetic. It was truly a miserable showing.

Jiang Shu lowered her eyes, fixing her gaze on her emerald-inlaid embroidered shoes. Her lips moved several times, but ultimately, she said nothing.

Lu Changji took a step forward, closing the distance until they were almost touching. Jiang Shu could smell the faint, elegant scent of green bamboo clinging to him. The pressure radiating from a man of his stature was overwhelming; her instinct told her to back away, but her feet felt as if they were made of lead.

She remained frozen, looking up at him. Because he was tall and standing so close, she could only see his jawline from her angle. His bone structure was superior—the curve of his jaw was clean and peerlessly handsome, as if meticulously outlined by a master’s brush.

The world knew Lu Changji for his demonic intellect and terrifying power, often forgetting that beneath the genius lay a physical form as beautiful as a banished immortal.

As if sensing her gaze through the veil, Lu Changji’s jaw tightened slightly. His dark eyes locked onto hers; he looked as if he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself, only saying: “I have some high-quality ointment. I will have Cheng Yong deliver it to you shortly. Where are you staying tonight? Are you returning to Xinchun Court?”

When she was a child, the tiny, sunless back room where she lived with her mother was the only place Jiang Shu felt safe. Later, after marrying into the Marquis’s estate, Lu Changyi’s protection made Xinchun Court her new shell.

Her face was currently unfit to be seen, and her first instinct was to hide in that shell. But she had forgotten one thing: Lu Changyi was frail and sensitive. If he saw her face, he would be sick with worry, and it wasn’t worth risking his health.

Jiang Shu shook her head and whispered, “My appearance is disheveled; it is best the Heir does not see me. I won’t return to Xinchun Court tonight. I’ll make do for a night at the Little Cooling Villa.”

She was sensitive to heat, and the mere thought of the Villa’s refreshing air made her feel at ease.

…

Night swallowed the light. All things that needed to be hidden, all things that could not see the light of day, could ferment quietly in the dark.

Under the cover of night, Madam Yang and Jiang Ran returned to the Jiang residence. After the disaster, Jiang Ran seemed to have lost her soul; she wouldn’t say a word, her eyes vacant and hollow.

Madam Yang’s heart ached to the point of tears. That wench Jiang Shu had actually ruined her Ran-er. If she didn’t skin Jiang Shu alive for this, she didn’t deserve to be the mistress of the Jiang house.

Fearing her daughter would be further saddened by her tears, Madam Yang turned away to wipe them before pulling Jiang Ran into her arms. “My child, do not be afraid. Mother will settle everything for you. Just rest now; everything will be better when you wake up.”

Jiang Ran remained silent. Her eyes were like a pool of stagnant water; even if a giant boulder were thrown in, it wouldn’t cause a ripple.

After settling Jiang Ran into bed, Madam Yang intended to go out, but fearing the girl might do something drastic, she summoned her most reliable maid, Qingyu, to keep watch. Only then could she turn her attention to the day’s events.

She arrived at the drawing room, but before she could even sip her tea, the gatekeeper announced that the Provincial Governor’s wife requested an audience.

The main gates opened, and Madam Pan arrived with guards, delivering the three thugs—now bound hand and foot—to Madam Yang. The men were bruised and swollen, clearly having been “dealt with” already. They knelt obediently without needing a prompt.

It wasn’t that Madam Pan cared for Jiang Ran, but as the hostess of the villa where it happened, she had to provide an explanation. She had caught them, but since Jiang Ran’s reputation was at stake, she left the final decision to Madam Yang.

“I am truly sorry,” Madam Pan said softly. “It is my fault for not guarding the gates properly. I’ve brought these scoundrels back. Since it concerns the young miss’s honor, I cannot decide for you. Should we report this to the authorities, or handle it privately?”

The security at the villa was not easily bypassed; without an insider from Madam Yang’s own camp, these three would never have gotten in. Madam Pan’s guards had already broken them, and they had confessed everything.

Madam Pan realized Madam Yang had shot herself in the foot, and she silently marveled at Jiang Shu’s clever handiwork. However, she played dumb to save everyone’s “face.”

Madam Yang, knowing she was at fault and terrified of the truth coming out, could only swallow her rage. “Thank you, Madam. I appreciate your kindness. But for my daughter’s sake, it is best to keep this quiet. Leave these men to me; whatever happens to them from now on has nothing to do with you.”

Madam Pan, having fulfilled her duty, left the Jiang residence.

“Useless trash!” Madam Yang erupted the moment the guests left. She vented her fury on the thugs, her heavy palms striking their faces until they saw stars and spat blood. Only after she was exhausted did she kick the nearest one and hiss a threat: “Only we know of this. If a single word gets out, I will hand you to the magistrate for rape. Do you know the punishment? Death by hanging. If you want to live, keep your mouths shut.”

The thugs, terrified, kowtowed until the bluestone floor was stained with blood. Disgusted by the smell, Madam Yang waved them away: “Get out!”

…

The night wind rattled the lanterns in the courtyard as Jiang Wenhuan strode in, his face dark with rage. The veins on his forehead were bulging.

“I was drinking with colleagues when I heard whispers in the next room,” he hissed at Madam Yang. “I thought it was some other family’s daughter who had lost her virtue, only to hear it was my own!”

He wiped his face with a wet cloth, his eyes burning. “I have been an official for twenty years and have never been as humiliated as I was today! Tell me, what happened?”

Madam Yang could hardly admit it was her own trap. She stammered, “Ran-er had poor luck… she was… accosted by some thugs in the woods.”

Clang! A copper basin fell to the floor. Jiang Wenhuan was shaking. “What kind of mother are you? A woman’s reputation is everything! How could you let her go there alone?”

He eventually calmed down enough to realize he had to minimize the damage. “The Jiang family’s honor has been dragged through the mud. You are to keep her confined. She is not to step foot outside this house. Perhaps in time, people will forget.”

“Confined?” Madam Yang gasped. “She is at the age for marriage! If she doesn’t socialize, how can she—”

“Marriage? Who would want a girl who lost her purity?” Jiang Wenhuan interrupted harshly. “I am being merciful by not demanding she take her own life to save the family name. As for her marriage, forget it. Perhaps some widower will take her later.”

He ignored Madam Yang’s pleas and ordered the gatekeepers that the Second Miss was never to leave without his express permission. Madam Yang collapsed to the floor, weeping with hatred. She would make Jiang Shu pay.

…

In the Little Cooling Villa, the night wind carried the scent of evening primrose. Jiang Shu sat among the flowers, sipping fruit wine and watching the moon.

The courtyard was as silent as autumn water until a knock sounded at the gate. Expecting Cheng Yong with the medicine, she was shocked to see Lu Changji. She couldn’t simply take the medicine and dismiss him; she had to invite him in.

“Such a small matter, you could have sent Guard Cheng,” she said softly as he sat across from her.

“It’s no trouble,” Lu Changji replied, placing a small green porcelain bottle on the table. “This ointment is from the Imperial Pharmacy. Its application is specific; if done wrong, the effect is halved.”

He took a brush and began writing out the instructions. He sat perfectly upright, his posture formal, yet his calligraphy was bold and free-spirited. Jiang Shu, though not well-educated, could tell his writing was far superior to her father’s.

“This plum wine is my own brew,” Jiang Shu offered, wanting to show gratitude. “It’s sweet and tart, and not very strong. Would you like a taste?”

Men rarely liked the sweet drinks favored by ladies, but it was all she had. She looked at him expectantly, her eyes bright like a reflected galaxy.

Lu Changji glanced at her eyes and nodded slightly.

Delighted, Jiang Shu grabbed a small trowel and went to the corner of the wall to dig up a fresh jar. The thin summer fabric of her dress caught the moonlight as she moved, outlining her graceful, willow-thin waist and elegant silhouette.

She dug up the jar, wiped it clean, and poured the first cup for Lu Changji. The cup was fine white porcelain, yet Jiang Shu’s fingers were so fair that they made the porcelain look dull by comparison.

The moon drifted behind a cloud, dimming the light. By the time Lu Changji realized what he was doing, his hand had already covered the back of Jiang Shu’s hand.