The Useless Alpha’s Yandere Wife - Chapter 42

Lord Miao barely opened her eyes, a piercing pain radiating from her right knee. The doctor had tightly splinted her leg, rendering it as immobile and painful as a stone.

Seeing Su He beside her, Lord Miao’s eyes reddened with a hint of grievance.

“My leg hurts so much, A-He. It really hurts,” she murmured, gently shaking Su He’s little finger, her expression fragile and pitiful.

“What should we do? Should I call the doctor again to check on you?” Su He asked, noticing the fine beads of sweat on Lord Miao’s forehead and the flush on her face. She reached out to feel her temperature.

“Come closer!” Miao Fengqing strained to turn her head and look at her.

“Oh, okay!” Su He leaned closer, gazing at her with tender concern.

“Hold me…” Miao Fengqing lifted her head, her slightly teary eyes meeting Su He’s, a hint of stubbornness in her gaze.

Su He closed her eyes briefly in resignation, reaching out to comfort her. Though her own heart was burning with anxiety, she didn’t want Lord Miao to see her worry.

Taking advantage of her injury, Miao Fengqing burrowed into Su He’s arms, occasionally letting out a pitiful groan to elicit even softer reassurances from Miss Su.

Under the pretext of caring for Lord Miao, Sang Yu had unlocked the iron chains binding Su He’s hands, finally allowing her to move freely.

Jiang Yan sought out Su He to inquire about Lord Miao’s condition. Upon learning that his injuries weren’t life-threatening, she breathed a sigh of relief. However, the news that he would require four months of bed rest to ensure the full recovery of his right leg presented a daunting challenge on their exile journey.

Silently weighing all possibilities, Jiang Yan returned to her tent.

In the two days following the heavy snowfall, the temperature plummeted to an extreme chill. Despite the tent’s quilted lining, the icy conditions still left them shivering.

As Jiang Yan entered, Ying Hong secured the flap. Tan Qianyue was nestled comfortably in her sleeping bag, while Tangyuan, oblivious to the cold, mimicked her mistress’s behavior, curling up in her own cozy corner with only her head peeking out, curiously watching Jiang Yan’s return.

“You must be freezing! Come in and warm up,” Tan Qianyue called out, waving her over like a tightly wrapped zongzi.

“I’m still cold from outside. Let me warm up slowly,” Jiang Yan replied.

Whenever Tan Qianyue retreated into her sleeping bag, Jiang Yan forbade her from wearing her padded coat. Doing so would saturate the coat with moisture, rendering it useless for warmth when they resumed their journey. Instead, Tan Qianyue typically wore the modified short-sleeved shirt Jiang Yan had altered for her.

“How’s Lord Miao?” Tan Qianyue asked proactively.

“He’s stable, but he’ll likely need to remain bedridden all the way to the Northlands. This complicates things,” Jiang Yan replied, her brow furrowing slightly as she organized her belongings.

“As long as no one’s seriously hurt, that’s what matters. Criminals aren’t easy to deal with,” Ying Hong said, having picked up some gossip and eager to share it with her Miss to help her pass the time.

“Sigh, let’s not dwell on that. Time to eat. Food always comes first,” Jiang Yan replied. She still had her wife to feed, so she needed to focus on the task at hand.

She rinsed the prepared white rice and poured hot water from her water skin into the small iron pot. This would save time and make the rice cook faster and more fragrant. She would boil more water and refill the skin before bed.

She peeled a few potatoes and tossed them in. Half of the wild pheasant they’d traded for was chopped into three large pieces and laid on top of the rice. Wood ear mushrooms and kelp, blanched in boiling water and sliced into thin strips, were scattered over the top. Coarse salt, crushed and dissolved in warm water, was drizzled evenly over the rice. When the others weren’t looking, she secretly added a splash of peanut oil and soy sauce. Finally, she covered the pot and waited for the water to be fully absorbed.

Jiang Yan kept watch by the small pot, watching the flames beneath it gradually grow stronger. The tent was filled with flammable materials, so she had to be extremely careful every time she cooked.

The room slowly warmed up, filling the freezing night with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food.

The savory scent of chicken mingling with the fragrance of white rice wafted through the air. They hadn’t eaten rice in ages, and it smelled heavenly.

The moment the pot lid was lifted, the aroma of the food surged out, even drawing the dog over to investigate.

Since arriving at this household, three small ladles had been designated for Tan Qianyue, Ying Hong, and the dog, while the small iron pot served as Jiang Yan’s personal bowl. Jiang Yan didn’t mind; she embraced the pot, relishing every bite.

Jiang Yan casually stirred the soft, mashed potatoes with her makeshift chopsticks, made from tree branches, and scooped them into bowls, each portion topped with crispy bits of pot scrapings.

Finally, she placed a chicken leg directly onto Tan Qianyue’s bowl, filling the wooden bowl to the brim. With the fire extinguished, they each cradled their bowls and began to eat.

“Mistress Jiang, I bet even the officers in Sang Yu don’t eat this well,” Ying Hong said, her round eyes shining as she gazed at the food. She looked like someone who could be won over with a good meal.

“Then you’re lucky,” Jiang Yan replied. “But you know the saying: ‘Don’t flaunt your wealth,’ right? I’m worried you’ll blab about this outside.”

“Of course!” Ying Hong wanted to retort that she wasn’t stupid, but she swallowed the words. She couldn’t afford to offend her benefactors.

“Eat the meat first. Use your hands.” Seeing the Eldest Miss struggling with the chicken leg using chopsticks, Jiang Yan instructed her to grip the bone directly.

Tan Qianyue looked up at Jiang Yan, a smudge of soot still clinging to her cheek.

She then grabbed the drumstick with her hands and ate it. Having never eaten such a large drumstick before—they were always served pre-cut—she found the experience immensely satisfying. The sparse broth, infused with coarse salt and the flavors of the side dishes, burst across her palate, mingling with the drumstick’s tender, juicy texture. Even the usually picky Tan Qianyue ate with gusto, finishing every grain of rice.

Jiang Yan watched her eat with such relish, feeling confident that fattening her up was within reach. Storing up some extra meat would make her less susceptible to illness when they reached the Northlands.

Recently, Ying Hong had managed to procure hot water every night, as if someone were heating it specifically for her.

The three of them brushed their teeth with their personal bamboo tubes, washed their faces and hands, and finally, the Eldest Miss soaked her feet to ward off the chill. While the embers still held some warmth, they quickly burrowed into their blankets for the night, marking the end of another day.

As night fell, Tan Qianyue stowed away the Crystal Stone, plunging the tent into darkness. She and Jiang Yan, clad only in their undergarments, huddled together in their sleeping bags, their bodies pressed close for warmth.

Tan Qianyue’s hand traced up Jiang Yan’s wrist, pausing at her arm. Years of physical labor had honed Jiang Yan’s muscles into taut, compact cords. Even with a casual flex, she could feel the thin layer of muscle beneath her skin—a balanced blend of strength and grace.

Realizing she was good for nothing but eating, Tan Qianyue felt utterly useless. She conscientiously began kneading Jiang Yan’s arm, massaging it to help her relax.

Jiang Yan’s fingers rested lightly on Tan Qianyue’s slender waist, savoring the gentle pressure on her arm. She lay back contentedly, thinking that life should have both its bitter and sweet moments to feel truly complete.

“Massage my head too,” Jiang Yan said, pressing her head against Tan Qianyue’s chest. “All that hair-pulling has made my scalp ache!” She was taking advantage of the situation, but her thick, long hair was indeed a daily torment.

Tan Qianyue suspected Jiang Yan was taking advantage, but she still massaged her scalp, kneading firmly.

Jiang Yan’s palm pressed against the delicate skin of Tan Qianyue’s waist, playing with it. It was much warmer sleeping pressed together like this.

Meanwhile, Miao Fengqing developed a mild fever that night. Su He sat by the stove for hours, brewing medicine. Miao Fengqing drank the medicine obediently, tilting Su He’s hand to drain the bowl in one gulp, but her condition remained worrying.

Since Miao Fengqing’s leg was injured, Su He dared not crowd her. She spent the entire night sitting stiffly on a wooden stool, busy feeding her water and comforting her. She didn’t get a wink of sleep.

The next day, the Town Defender and the head of Liu Manor arrived with their two daughters to express their gratitude. The two young girls wept bitterly as they gazed at Miao Fengqing, who lay bedridden and unable to rise.

“Lord, please let us stay and serve you!” they pleaded, kneeling and kowtowing.

“I don’t need any help. All… all of you should go home,” Miao Fengqing waved weakly, each word now requiring immense effort.

“Lord, we sincerely wish to stay and care for you. If not for you, my sister and I would have perished long ago. Please, you must let us stay!” The two fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girls, their eyes glistening with tears, knelt on the ground, begging to tend to her.

“I don’t need your care. If you truly wish to show your gratitude, simply leave some provisions,” Miao Fengqing said, glancing nervously toward the door, fearing Su He might enter and witness this scene, leaving her unable to explain.

Unbeknownst to her, Su He stood outside the door, eavesdropping and hearing every word clearly. Though she knew Miao Fengqing had refused the girls, the exchange stirred up painful memories, instantly extinguishing the last flicker of pity she had felt.

Seeing the pair of fresh-faced, beautiful Kunze sisters, Su He’s heart churned with jealousy. Compared to them, she felt old, even though she always called Jiang Yan “Sister,” when in reality, she was three years older.

“Lord, we’ve brought the grain. This year’s harvest was poor, so we couldn’t fill all your carts, but we’ve brought a pig and ten chickens to help you recover. We hope you won’t find them too meager,” the head of Liu Manor reported earnestly to Lord Miao.

“We are deeply grateful for Liu Manor’s assistance. The two young ladies are still young—take them home. Lord Defender, I need to rest now, so I won’t keep you any longer,” Miao Fengqing said, her gaze stern as she turned to the Town Defender.

“Ah… since Lord Miao needs to rest, we’ll come back another day!” The Town Defender led the group away, but the twin sisters lingered, casting reluctant glances back. Even as they left, they politely bowed to Su He.

Su He returned the courtesy with a perfunctory bow, then glared at the frail figure lying in bed. Even with a crippled leg, she’s still attracting attention! she thought, instantly banishing certain people back to her mental “black room.”

When Lord Miao summoned Su He again, it was Concubine Sun who entered.

“Does Lord wish to drink chicken soup? The hen has been simmering all afternoon, and it’s at its most nourishing now. If Lord is unable to feed himself, I’ll be happy to assist,” Concubine Sun said, her face radiating maternal warmth as she gazed at Lord Miao.

“Ah? No, no, I can manage myself. There’s no need to trouble you, Madam,” Lord Miao replied with an awkward smile, feeling inexplicably guilty in Concubine Sun’s presence.

The thought of Su He abandoning him stirred a fresh wave of self-pity. Patients really do tend to be overly sentimental, he mused.

The bandit situation had been resolved smoothly. Upon hearing the news, the County Magistrate rushed to the scene, bringing ample supplies to ensure the exiled party’s safe passage to the Northlands.

Miao Fengqing’s five carriages, along with Captain Lu’s three, were piled high with provisions. Barring unforeseen circumstances, they should easily last until they reached the Northlands.

In his official report, the County Magistrate meticulously documented Lord Miao’s contributions, while naturally highlighting his own efforts as well. It was a truly satisfactory conclusion for all involved.

The world where only Miao Fengqing was injured had been achieved, yet Su He inexplicably began ignoring her. After lying in the small room at the Post Station for two days, she was on the verge of madness.

Today was the day they were to depart. She had already moved back into the carriage, but when she returned, even the little creature was gone. This only deepened her panic—Su He truly intended to sever all ties with her!

Jiang Yan had brought out the small cart from the Storage. While its appearance differed greatly from modern carts, Jiang Yan had been diligently aging it. She had secretly roughened the smooth body with coarse stones for a long time, creating a pitted, weathered look that made it seem like a long-abandoned vehicle.

She even used the small electric rod that connected to it to etch wood grain patterns onto the surface. With a bit of mud smeared on, the illusion was convincing at a glance. The deep brown cart resembled a squat, rectangular wooden box, topped with a wind and snow shield and supported by four wheels. It looked like a scholar’s trunk that had been flattened. Jiang Yan had twisted a thick hemp rope to make it easier to pull.

The cart was remarkably light, even lighter than her own luggage—it felt almost weightless. She estimated that even the Eldest Miss could ride on it with ease.

The cart looked tiny, about a quarter the size of a horse-drawn carriage. Jiang Yan simply draped the messy tent over the cart, using the wooden frame to secure it. Now it resembled a small, mobile tent. When the wind blew, the colorful, tattered strips of cloth on the tent flapped wildly, making it hard to know what to make of it.

The exile convoy consisted of horse-drawn carriages, grain carts, tents, and piles of belongings. Jiang Yan’s dilapidated cart blended in, standing out only for its extreme shabbiness.

“What’s this contraption? It looks like it’s about to fall apart,” Captain Wei remarked, spotting Jiang Yan’s ramshackle cart just before departure.

“My Lord,” Jiang Yan replied, contorting her face into a pained expression, “this humble servant salvaged this discarded cart to help carry my belongings. Moreover, my sickly, unattractive wife keeps me constantly worried. I didn’t want to delay the group’s journey, so I cobbled this together to bring her along.”

Captain Wei vaguely remembered this person—her family had apparently offered a substantial bribe. In his good mood, he granted Jiang Yan a favor. Jiang Yan bowed deeply, showering him with gratitude.

After the man left, Jiang Yan and the other two began packing their belongings.

Two straw mats were laid at the bottom, followed by a layer of cotton quilts. Sleeping bags were placed on top of the quilts, and another cotton quilt was draped over the sleeping bags, creating a thick layer that would surely withstand the Northlands’ bitter cold.

Ying Hong and Tan Qianyue loaded all their household items into the cart. Unaware that Jiang Yan had spread rumors about her being an “ugly wife,” Ying Hong grinned foolishly at the thick bedding for a long time.

With the tent rolled up, only the front tip of the cart remained visible. Jiang Yan tested the hemp rope, finding it much easier than carrying the bundle on her back. The heavy tent frame no longer needed to be carried by hand. With everything packed neatly, they were ready to go.

“Let’s set off!” Captain Wei declared, riding his horse with an air of arrogance. Lord Miao remained confined to his carriage, unable to dismount even for a moment. With no one to restrain him, Captain Wei reveled in his newfound freedom and authority.

Everyone had changed into their winter clothes, and the journey began harmoniously enough.

“Captain, she really can’t get up anymore?” Captain Lu asked, a malicious grin spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with calculation.

“She can get up if she wants to spend the rest of her life as a cripple,” Captain Wei replied indifferently. “No one’s stopping her.”

“Without her meddling, this journey will be much more enjoyable,” Captain Lu said, his resentment toward Lord Miao simmering for a long time.

“What? Haven’t you had enough fun on this trip?” Captain Wei warned darkly. “I’m telling you to rein yourself in. Don’t cause trouble you can’t handle. I won’t be able to help you then.” Unlike Captain Lu, who wore his emotions on his sleeve, Captain Wei was older and more discreet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Captain Lu nodded dismissively.

The procession began to move. The snow hadn’t melted, and some clever prisoners had stuffed cotton into their shoes to prevent their feet from freezing solid.

The knee-deep snow, even after two or three days of sunlight, still reached above the ankles. The crusty surface broke with each step, leaving deep footprints and filling the air with the crunch of boots on snow.

Icy snow seeped into their shoes, and after several hours of walking, their feet went numb with cold.

Tangyuan was the first to enjoy the cart service, his round body curled up asleep inside. His family had certainly spoiled him rotten.

Unbeknownst to Jiang Yan, after she stole their cub, a burly gray wolf was pinned down in a snow pit by a snow-white mother wolf, stars dancing before his eyes as she beat him senseless, even knocking the fur off the top of his head!