Thirty-Six Stratagems for Divorcing a Wife (GL) - Chapter 8

“That General’s wife is too much!” Jin Yi complained the moment they returned to the room. “I had heard she came from the jianghu, and thought at worst she’d just be a bit rough and straightforward. But who knew she’d be so vulgar? She picked on our lady again and again over trivial mistakes—even when it was she herself who kept taking the wrong chopsticks!”

Jin Xiu echoed indignantly: “Exactly! Thankfully our lady was born so beautiful and dignified she couldn’t be shaken by such petty provocation. Still, that teacup was so expensive, what a pity it got smashed. And as for that young lord—so reckless! If not for Miss protecting him, he might not have survived at all.”

When Madam Lu struck, Yan Nianshi had sensed the attack from behind and raised a hand to block it. A bit of bl00d was drawn, leaving a slender cut.

At the banquet she kept her sleeve rolled down over it, but Jin Xiu, standing nearby, had noticed.

Yan Nianshi wrapped the wound with a strip of cloth and reassured them gently: “The husband is the wife’s guiding pole. Since I am now part of the Lu family, observing the three obediences and four virtues is only right. Madam Lu merely finds it hard to accept that the son she raised so dearly now has a wife. That she feels jealousy or dislike is understandable. Besides, she did not use much force with that strike.”

“But my lady—you are a noble daughter of heaven! How can you allow yourself to be treated so rudely by a mere commoner? And now she’s even summoned the young lord—surely to slander you again and conspire against us!” Jin Yi fumed. Yan Nianshi, knowing it was just loyal concern, only smiled faintly and, checking her injury, said no more.

Whether that person was Lu Jianyi or Lu Jianshou—if a few words from Madam Lu were enough to change their attitude toward her, then such a love was not worth cherishing.

“Mother can only help you so far.” Madam Lu patted Lu Jianshou’s shoulder. “Now, tell me—how did last night go?”

Being a woman herself, Madam Lu hadn’t slept all night, eager to gossip about the bridal chamber.

Lu Jianshou hesitated, not sure how to answer, then clasped her hands and replied: “Your child originally asked her to play the flute together, but she said she was tired and wanted to rest.”

Madam Lu: “…” (mind wandering in the wrong direction)

“It seems Yan Nianshi doesn’t like you that much,” she analyzed once she understood. “Or perhaps… not as much as she was thought to like your brother. You must be careful in all things, not a single gesture must slip. Under no circumstance can your female identity be exposed.”

Lu Jianshou, hearing the grave tone, restrained herself as well: “Your child understands.”

After the brief conversation ended, Lu Jianshou noticed Chang Huan clearing the table. She thought a moment and asked: “Chang Huan, is there any food left from the kitchen?”

Chang Huan was puzzled—hadn’t the young lord already eaten more than half a table just now? How could he be hungry again so quickly?

Lu Jianshou scratched her head, sheepishly: “It’s not for me…”

As the servants dismantled the red wedding lanterns, she slipped away. Wandering around, she finally found Yan Nianshi in the back garden, playing the qin.

That lone figure, as at their first meeting, was steeped in a solitude so pure it seemed untouchable.

Lu Jianshou was spellbound, listening until the piece ended. Just then, when Jin Xiu draped a cloak over Yan Nianshi’s shoulders, she turned and saw Lu Jianshou standing with a tray.

“That melody was beautiful. Was it Su Shi’s River of Washing Streams (Huan Xi Sha)?” Lu Jianshou asked.

Yan Nianshi’s gaze fell instead upon the food in her hands, a bit surprised. “Yes. But husband, what is this?”

“Oh… this?” Lu Jianshou smiled warmly, suddenly remembering her purpose. She set the dishes on the stone table in the pavilion. “I noticed you only ate a little at breakfast, you must be hungry. So I brought this for you. This longan-and-lotus-seed porridge is Auntie Zhao’s specialty—she used to make it for me often. Won’t you try some?”

For a moment, something like warmth flickered through Yan Nianshi’s expression. Yet she refused softly: “Food should be taken in moderation. Seven-tenths full is enough.”

Lu Jianshou couldn’t stand it. She pressed her down into a seat opposite, picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, and pushed it into her mouth. “Don’t spout those fancy words! You have to eat until you’re at least seven-tenths full. Doesn’t Su Dongpo say in Huan Xi Sha: ‘Snowy froth floats in the tea bowl, tender shoots of mugwort and artemisia try the spring plate’?”

Yan Nianshi had not expected this boldness. She looked at her in a daze—the pouty, sulky face before her was nothing but that of a petulant little girl. Had she really mistaken this person last night for a heroic young man?

Lu Jianshou, embarrassed, saw the osmanthus cake dangling from Yan Nianshi’s lips, on the verge of falling. It was strangely alluring.

Then, to her utter shock, Yan Nianshi tilted her head and deftly caught it with her tongue, drawing it in with a faint trace of moisture. “Truly delicious.”

Lu Jianshou swallowed hard, suddenly parched. She turned to flee: “Th-then, when you’re done, just call me. I’ll… go study painting in the study…”

But Yan Nianshi raised her brows, and suddenly caught her by the hem. The green flute at her waist swayed. Looking up with mischievous eyes, Yan Nianshi said sweetly: “Doesn’t husband know? My hand is injured.”

“What… what should I do then?”

Lu Jianshou saw the bl00d seeping through her bandaged wrist. Guilt pricked her—she had hardly thought of her wound after Yan Nianshi saved her so quickly earlier.

Yan Nianshi’s lips curved slyly: “Then husband must feed me.”

Remembering the earlier scene, Lu Jianshou’s heart skipped. “But the chopsticks fell… wait, I’ll fetch another pair.”

Yan Nianshi did not let go. She tugged her hand instead, eyes playful: “We are husband and wife. Why cling to such small formalities?”

Her expression was identical to the teasing little enchantress of three years ago. Where was the aloof ice beauty now?

Lu Jianshou’s heart thudded. She sat again, carefully picked up a mung bean cake, not daring to look directly at her.

Yan Nianshi’s maids watched, dazzled by the halo of happiness that seemed to glow around their lady.

Yan Nianshi licked the sweet delicacy from her fingers, then—like a child not yet sated—sucked the crumbs lingering on Lu Jianshou’s fingertips. It lasted only an instant, but the silken brush of her tongue made Lu Jianshou nearly stop breathing.

She no longer had the courage to offer a second piece.

“Husband, why have you stopped? I want more~~” Yan Nianshi coaxed softly, eyes shining.

Lu Jianshou stammered, eyes lowered: “This way… isn’t convenient… and not very clean.”

Yan Nianshi let it go with a smile, but did not intend to release her entirely. Her gaze shifted to the porridge. “Then let it be. I’ll have some congee instead. Will husband feed me?”

Helpless, Lu Jianshou scooped a spoonful and passed it over.

Yan Nianshi watched her nervousness with growing amusement. Smiling, she asked, “Why does husband not dare look at me?”

Who dares look at you, damn it…

Just eat and be done with it!

Though she thought it, Lu Jianshou forced herself to raise her eyes—only to meet those luminous, beguiling ones staring straight back. Her heart fluttered wildly again.

The moment was short-lived. Chang Huan rushed in with several attendants from the Chancellor’s manor: “Young master! Trouble—Miss Jin is dead drunk at the Huibin Tower, calling out the eldest young lady’s name, and she started a fight with some playboys!”

“What?!” Lu Jianshou leapt up at once. “Quick, take me there!”

She had barely taken two steps before Yan Nianshi caught her sleeve.

“Husband…”

“?” Lu Jianshou looked back at her in puzzlement.

Yan Nianshi gazed up at him with wounded eyes. “Does husband mean to abandon Nianshi so easily?”

The words struck a sour chord in Lu Jianshou’s chest.

Jin Qingqin was no ordinary person. Beyond being her cousin, she was also her childhood companion, someone who held a place in her heart.

Yet here was Yan Nianshi, asking this plaintive question—as if compared to her, a friend’s trouble mattered more than a wife’s feelings.

And she realized, with some bitterness, that Yan Nianshi had grabbed her using her injured left hand.

Truly calculating.

She had been blind, deceived by appearances, thinking her cold and noble. But in truth, she was the same as three years ago—selfish, manipulative. Perhaps even worse now.

So Lu Jianshou hardened her heart, shaking off her grasp. Her voice was cold: “My heart is with Qingqin. I must go. If your hand is strong enough to hold me back, then you clearly have plenty of strength—why need me waste time here? Let Jin Xiu and Jin Yi serve you. Right now Qingqin needs me more.”

With that, she strode away.

Yan Nianshi’s bright eyes dimmed, the light in them snuffed out, as if falling from the heavens back into the abyss. She stood motionless, sorrowfully watching Lu Jianshou’s resolute back vanish from her sight.