Chapter 4 Bathing with a Cheap Husband
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A marriage arranged when we were children?!
Oh no, oh no, oh no!
I traveled back to ancient times and my mentality collapsed.
Lin Xihe looked down at her size 37 feet.
If I dressed up as the son of an official, I wouldn't have to bind my feet, and all I'd get would be an extra fiancé!
Are you afraid of him?
She took a deep breath of the fresh air, where PM2.5 levels were near zero, and silently told herself: Since I'm here, I might as well make the best of it and integrate.
Integrate!
She mimicked the tone of an ancient lady on television, covering her mouth with a handkerchief and speaking very softly: "Tell me about my husband."
Qingwu asked blankly, "Husband?"
Sigh, Lin Xihe slapped him three times across the face. You stubborn mum, speaking in ancient language!
She quickly changed her question, asking, "How is my husband?"
Qingwu stared at her two index fingers, racking her brains for the right words: "...with a beautiful face?"
"Oh ho~" Handsome guy. A smile twitched at the corner of Lin Xihe's mouth.
No feelings are fine, as long as he's handsome!
"What kind of character will my future husband have?"
Thinking of Wen Zhixu's reputation, Qingwu broke out in a cold sweat.
Cough cough, this is a life-or-death question.
In Qingwu's memory, the Second Young Master Wen was indeed gentle and polite—well, that was before he was ten years old.
As for the reputation of "a gentleman" circulating among the people today, it is mostly just hearsay spread by sycophantic servants.
Enough. The truth was too blunt. Qingwu couldn't bear to frighten her mistress, yet she also didn't want to speak against her conscience. She opened and closed her mouth, but ultimately couldn't utter a sound.
Seeing the maid remain silent, Lin Xihe searched her mind for elegant adjectives, regretting that she had only focused on shipping Li Bai and Du Fu in high school and hadn't taken Chinese literature seriously.
She was racking her brains; someone must have stolen her wisdom from afar!
After a long pause, she managed to utter a single word: "Like the moon and stars?!" She was the legitimate daughter of the Lin family, a true second-generation official. If her father were to choose a son-in-law, he would definitely pick someone who could uphold the family's prestige.
Qingwu was an honest maid. She nodded and silently handed over a handkerchief—the drool from her mistress's mouth was almost dripping to the ground.
There are many scions of prominent families in Shengjing, but if we only talk about appearance, the Second Young Master Wen is undoubtedly the best.
Upon receiving the maid's affirmative reply, Lin Xihe's eyes sparkled with countless glints of light, and a voice inside her screamed wildly: Ahhhhh! He's handsome, that's all that matters! My future husband is going to be so handsome he'll be standing out from the galaxy!
"Tell me quickly! Which young master is it?" Lin Xihe asked impatiently.
"Miss, you've already met her..."
"Huh?" Who?! Who could it be?! This is so hard to guess!
"The second son of the Duke Wen's mansion next door."
"...?!"
Lin Xihe was struck as if by lightning.
That bastard surnamed Wen is her future husband? What a joke!
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Lin Zhaoheng had just finished court and was heading to the Shushi Nunnery on the outskirts of the capital when his steward galloped up to catch up with him.
Upon hearing the news of his daughter's sudden death, he immediately turned his car around and rushed back home.
"He'er—!!!"
Lord Lin shoved aside the steward who tried to help him, staggered into Tinghe Pavilion, and two wet streaks appeared on his usually dignified face.
As he flung the door open, Lin Xihe was leisurely spitting sunflower seed shells into a small dish: "Pfft."
In an instant, they stared at each other, wide-eyed.
The middle-aged man in front of her was wearing a vermilion official robe. After a brief stillness, Lin Xihe saw him raise his wide sleeves and wipe his face heavily, his official hat askew.
Lin Xihe stared at the face that resembled her own, and her heart skipped a beat: Could this be my dad?
She cleared her throat and, mimicking the tone of an ancient person, asked, "...Father?"
With just a soft call, the Imperial Censor, who had been debating with the court officials, choked up and cried out, "He'er! My He'er! You still recognize your father!"
"..." The other party's emotions are too intense. Lin Xihe threw away the melon seeds in her palm, made a bun with both hands, and was at a loss for what to do for a moment.
She quickly realized that her father was alright; he was just a crybaby, and she could easily soothe him.
"Father, please sit down."
The daughter, who had been mentally challenged and had never spoken for many years, can now speak.
"Please have some sunflower seeds."
Lin Zhaoheng lowered his eyes, a handful of melon seeds appearing in his hand—given by his beloved daughter.
Why aren't you eating?
Lin Zhaoheng stared at the ordinary handful of melon seeds in his palm as if he were holding a rare treasure. After a long while, he finally spoke: "Father wants to enshrine it."
"..."
The moon rose above the treetops, subtly lengthening the shadows of the people outside the room.
Lin Zhirou stood in the courtyard carrying a food box and softly called out, "Father."
The father and daughter, who were chatting and laughing inside, turned around at the same time upon hearing the sound.
The flickering candlelight illuminated two strikingly similar faces—Lin Xihe and Lin Zhaoheng had almost identical eyebrows and eyes, and even their squinting gestures when looking at her were exactly the same. A sense of intimacy, as if connected by blood, overwhelmed Lin Zhirou.
Lin Zhirou stood in the shadows under the corridor, watching this glaring scene, feeling as if a needle had pierced her heart.
"Zhirou." Lin Zhaoheng frowned, his smile vanishing. "Why are you here? He'er needs rest. Perhaps another day—"
He'er, He'er, Daddy's He'er is alive, healed, and can talk now. He's happy!
“Father,” Lin Zhirou said, suppressing her agitation, “my sister fell ill and suddenly passed away. Her marriage to Young Master Wen…”
Lin Xihe threw down the melon seeds in her hand and abruptly stood up. She hadn't died, and her sister, who was always good at acting, had rushed over. So now they were going to stage a scene of the two sisters fighting over a man?
On the screen, two shadows, one wide and one narrow, faced each other.
Lin Zhaoheng was afraid that his eldest daughter would get angry again, so he quickly tried to smooth things over: "He'er, you should rest well."
"Sister, the Duke of Wen's mansion intends to annul the engagement." After saying this, Lin Zhirou paid attention to Lin Xihe's gaze.
As soon as she finished speaking, Lin Xihe's fingers tightened subtly within her sleeve, suppressing the urge to clap in celebration. The Wen family wanted to annul the engagement? What a stroke of luck! This was like a dream come true!
Wen Zhixu was handsome, but when he spoke, he was fluent in classical Chinese, leaving her completely unable to respond. If they were to actually marry, how could she, a modern person, possibly out-argue a true ancient scholar?
She feigned the demeanor of a refined lady from ancient times, slightly raising her sleeve to pretend to conceal the corners of her mouth that were practically curling to the sky, and said with an air of superiority, "That's fine then. Let's agree to it and call it off~" Calling off the engagement is better than getting a divorce.
She couldn't help herself, and her excited voice rose at the end, revealing a hint of joy.
"..." Lin Zhirou didn't understand.
The handsome and refined young master Wen Er in her eyes was, in her sister Lin Xihe's eyes, like a beautiful but impractical glass cup in a treasure shop, something that couldn't be broken or touched, all looks and no substance.
Why doesn't Lin Xihe try to compete? Wen Zhixu is the grandson of Wen Hongyuan, the current prime minister!
"Nonsense!" Lin Zhaoheng slammed his hand on the table, causing the candlelight to flicker violently.
Lin Zhirou: "Father, it's absolutely true! It was said by a maid from the Duke of Wen's mansion!"
Annulment of the engagement? In the daytime court, he and Wen Hongyuan held opposing political views and clashed fiercely. Was that old scoundrel Wen Hongyuan doing this on purpose? No… Lin Zhaoheng snapped out of his daze; Wen Hongyuan had always acted with integrity and uprightness.
Seeing that Lin Zhaoheng did not believe her, Lin Zhirou added, "Father, as soon as the news of my sister's fake death spread, the Duke of Wen's mansion set off firecrackers to celebrate. This is proof."
Lin Zhaoheng suddenly stood up: "This is outrageous!"
Lin Xihe frowned, the scene from her previous journey replaying before her eyes. She had been awakened by the sound of firecrackers; it turned out they were set off by the neighbors.
In her mind, the last remaining image of Baozi as a good person suddenly collapsed.
Wow, I never expected him to be this kind of person!
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"Young master, tomorrow the nun from Shushi Nunnery will go to Louze Garden to chant sutras and pray for the unclaimed corpses. Madam will also be there."
After responding to the preface, Wen Zhi walked straight into the bathhouse.
Amidst the rising steam, the image of a female refugee appeared before my eyes, shouting that she was not a ghost.
She even tugged at her own sleeve.
"Go and get the scented soap."
"yes."
Wen Ba was a rough man and had no idea what scented soap was. In his panic, he left his master alone in the bathhouse while he ran around the yard looking for Wen Qi.
Unexpectedly, Wen Qi was lying on a thick branch of a camphor tree in the courtyard, pinching a wriggling earthworm between his fingertips: "Cuihuang'er~ good Cuihuang~ cluck cluck cluck, ya ya ya, cluck cluck cluck."
Wen Ba's eyes twitched; it wouldn't be easy to get along with the young master.
"Scented soap? Those are old items that Madam used to love using. Since she left the manor, they've all been stored in Yinquan Pavilion." Wen Qi asked, puzzled. "The Second Young Master is fond of cleanliness, but he never uses women's bathing items."
The two arrived at Yinquan Pavilion. On the other side of the courtyard wall was Tinghe Pavilion of the Lin family mansion—because the two ladies of the Wen and Lin families were close friends, the two families specially built their residences so close together.
The courtyard had been uninhabited for a long time, overgrown with vegetation. Although servants tended to it daily, one still felt a sense of solitude when opening the door.
As the maid brought the scented soap, a bird called out from a corner of the courtyard.
Wen Qi and Wen Ba immediately perked up and searched around, but found no trace of Cui Huang.
The two lowered their heads, perhaps they were hallucinating.
Maid: "There have been stray cats lately, and I'm afraid the Second Young Master's Cuihuang has been snatched away by a cat."
"Don't talk nonsense." Wen Qi's eyes were red with anxiety. If something really happened to Cuihuang, he should just go home.
Wen Ba was curious: what does the Second Young Master's myna bird look like?
Wen Qi: "Her eyebrows and eyes are like stars, her voice is melodious, she is very affectionate, and she is the second young master's darling."
Aside from the fact that the bird eggs weren't laid by the second young master, the rest are no different from his own.
"What if we can't find it..." Wen Ba was sweating bullets for Wen Qi.
Wen Qi: "Then let's die together."
"Why are you dragging me into this?" Wen Ba was both shocked and furious.
Wen Qi chuckled coldly: "You've never touched a birdcage? Never fed birds?"
"When I arrived, Cuihuang was gone! It was empty! The cage was empty!"
"The Second Young Master's anger is without reason."
"..." Wen Ba was almost suffocating.
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Wen Zhixu, his face grim, scrubbed his right hand with scented soap again and again. The sensation of the female refugee's hand on his wrist remained stubbornly etched on his skin. After finishing scrubbing his right hand, he suddenly became uncertain: had the female refugee had also touched his left hand?
Suddenly, a bird's chirp drifted from outside the bathroom.
Wen Zhixu hurriedly got out of the bathtub, wearing only a moon-white nightgown. He followed the sound, his voice carrying a strange tenderness: "Cuihuang? Cui Cui? Huanghuang? Is that you?"
Wen Ba stood frozen in the corridor, holding a pile of changes of clothes. That wet figure was paler than the moonlight, more eerie than the resurrected young lady of the Lin family.
"Ahem, the Second Young Master treats Cuihuang like a child," Wen Qi said, offering a helpful suggestion.
"How insane..." Wen Ba swallowed hard.
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The Imperial Censor, who usually fiercely confronts his ministers in court, is now incredibly affectionate with his daughter: "He'er, I'll come see you after court tomorrow."
Lin Xihe glanced at her adoptive father. He wasn't a bad person, but he was a bit cowardly at heart. She didn't dislike him, but she wouldn't say she liked him either.
Lin Xihe: "I'm not an antique, I don't need to come and check on me every day, how could I possibly break?"
Lin Zhaoheng: "Antiques? Do you mean antiques?"
"Sigh, so the concept of 'antiques' didn't exist in the Ning Dynasty." Lin Xihe's gaze swept over his official robes, then fell upon the moonlight reflected on the window lattice. Loneliness, like moonlight, washed over her. She, a modern person who had traveled through a thousand years to this place, truly couldn't understand how to communicate with you ancient people.
A strange, inhuman laugh suddenly rang out, sending chills down one's spine.
The night was dark and the wind was high, and everyone present was startled.
The father and daughter looked up at the same time—
The dark shadow on the eaves rushed straight towards Lin Xihe.
With the shadow of the emperor's assassination attempt at the palace banquet last month still fresh in his mind, Lin Zhaoheng reacted swiftly, tightly shielding his daughter and shouting urgently, "Assassin! There's an assassin!"
"He'er, don't come out!"
Lin Xihe was about to look in the direction of the sound when her cheap father shoved her under the table.
She reached out and grabbed the table leg, but Lin Zhaoheng didn't think twice and kicked her with the back of his foot, sending her flying back.
Lin Xihe: "Cough cough cough..." Honestly! She just wanted to see what the spirits looked like before the founding of the People's Republic of China!
Lin Zhirou was stung by her father's instinctive reaction to protect her sister, and her eyes reddened as she said, "Father, your daughter is here too!"
Lin Zhaoheng, the master of balance: "You hide behind the artificial hill."
"..." The artificial hill is a hundred and eight thousand miles away from here.
The dark figure darted precisely under the table.
"Cough, cough..." The sound was surprisingly self-righteous.
Where did this ghost come from? It's clearly a bird, and a bird with glossy, shiny feathers at that.
His jewel-like, bright eyes stared at her intently.
Lin Xihe remained calm: "A crow?"
"Ah!"
The creature flapped one wing and let out a dissonant cry.
Lin Xihe tentatively stroked its back feathers with her fingertips. Seeing that it did not resist, she boldly brushed the feathers behind its neck: "Are you a spotted dove? Why aren't you wearing your pearl collar?"
"Gah!"
Hmm... Does this mean I didn't answer correctly?
Lin Xihe crawled out carrying the bird. The bird, which had been fluttering about, snuggled into her arms, nestled against her arm, and curled up into a ball of shiny black fluff.
The courtyard was thrown into chaos in an instant. The servants formed a protective circle around the master and the second young lady, leaving only Lin Xihe, a maid, and a strange bird standing alone in a corner.
They can't be blamed for this. There was a recent death in the manor today, and only a few hours later, the eldest young lady appeared unharmed. Anyone would get goosebumps.
One of the burly men couldn't withstand the immense psychological pressure and burst into tears.
Lin Xihe's temple throbbed with a sharp vein. What's wrong with these ancient people? I didn't do anything!
Lin Zhaoheng, relieved to have escaped unscathed, sent several trusted servants to guard the entrance of Tinghe Pavilion to protect his daughter's safety.
At the edge of the low bamboo grove outside the courtyard, Lin Zhirou blocked Lin Zhaoheng's path, her voice filled with dissatisfaction: "Why did Father only assign guards to my sister? What my sister has, I want too!"
"He'er needs to rest and recuperate peacefully, and we are afraid that outsiders will disturb her mind."
"Am I an outsider?" Lin Zhirou suddenly raised her voice.
Lin Zhaoheng was speechless. His eldest daughter had been mentally challenged for over ten years and had only just regained consciousness today; everything around her was unfamiliar to her.
"An excuse!" Lin Zhirou's tears fell instantly. "Father is just biased!"
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Lin Xihe stared at the doorman-like servant, wondering what the difference was between this and house arrest. Her plan to "stroll around outside the mansion and adapt to ancient times" was completely ruined tomorrow.
Qingwu came to find Linxihe to bathe and change clothes. In the blink of an eye, the young lady had already shed her ladylike facade and leaped up the artificial hill in the backyard like a wild monkey.
"Miss...!" Qingwu's breath caught in her throat, her legs went weak with fright.
"Shh." Lin Xihe didn't turn her head, and in her embroidered shoes, she climbed to the top of the artificial hill in a few steps.
Separated by a wall is another courtyard, where a small bridge lies quietly, and the moon's reflection sways gently on the water beneath it.
The bird in her arms found warmth and nestled in Linxihe's clothes, sleeping soundly.
Carp in the water were startled and sprang up, shattering the pool of silvery light. Lin Xihe hid among the rocks of the artificial hill and peeked across at two servants with lanterns leading the way to a tall and handsome man.
The man wore only a thin outer robe, his steps slow and deliberate. The night breeze lifted the hem of his robe, and the dim candlelight cast shadows on his chest, outlining his well-defined silhouette.
The man asked, "Where is the sound coming from?"
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