Noticing the surprised change in Song Yueyao's expression, Chai Xiaomi cast a secret sideways glance, quietly observing whether Wu Li cared at all.
After all, in the original novel, Wu Li had gone to great lengths to plant a love gu on her, and his love had even turned to hate, driving him to use every means possible to destroy Jiang Zhiyu.
Although none of this had come to pass in the novel Chai Xiaomi read, according to Youtiao's description, the story would eventually evolve in that direction. Therefore, she had to stop it; she had to change it.
At this very moment, it should be the true first meeting between Wu Li and Song Yueyao.
But to Chai Xiaomi's surprise, Wu Li's attention was not on Song Yueyao at all. He merely frowned in silence, as if lost in his own thoughts.
"The night is deep and the dew is heavy. Xiaomi is not someone who practices martial arts or magic, and her body is not as robust as ours. If she catches a cold, it will be bad for both her and the child in her womb. Whatever displeasure you have, you might as well put it aside for now."
When Jiang Zhiyu's gentle words of advice sounded again, Wu Li finally seemed to be pulled back to his senses.
He looked up at the other man, his eyes suddenly darkening, and asked out of the blue:
"Do you have a father?"
"What do you mean by that, brother?" Jiang Zhiyu was taken aback by the question, a hint of anger coloring his tone. "Of course I do."
This young man clearly already knew his identity as the young master of Lingyu Province. Who in the world did not know that the Lord of Lingyu Province, though bedridden with illness, was still alive? Yet he insisted on asking such a hurtful and offensive question.
Hearing this, an uncontrollable trace of gloom flashed across Wu Li's eyes.
"Then didn't he teach you to mind your own business?" Wu Li's voice was low and slow, but every word dripped with coldness.
With that, he let out a casual scoff:
"The dignified lord of a province can't even raise his son properly. Could it be that he only sired you but never raised you?"
"You..." Jiang Zhiyu was furious, his knuckles whitening slightly as he gripped the hilt of his sword. He was always known for being gentle and modest, and usually everyone praised his good temper, but at this moment, his expression completely darkened.
Although Jiang Zhiyu was a noble young master and had lived a life of privilege since childhood, he had also spent years training with his master, cultivating a calm demeanor that allowed him to endure what ordinary people could not.
If others had a bad attitude, he could back down, but if it involved his father, he would not yield an inch.
His father had given him everything, caring for him in every possible way, and even in the turbulent political climate of Lingyu Province, had tried his best to protect his peace.
He was the best father in the world.
The night wind swept past. It was as if invisible blades were clashing between the two of them, the atmosphere instantly snapping taut like a fully drawn bow.
Chai Xiaomi quietly reached out and gently tugged at Wu Li's sleeve. Seeing that he didn't budge, her fingers slid down his sleeve and quietly covered his hand.
His fingers were lean and long, with distinct joints. Because he had held a bow and arrows all year round, there was a thin layer of calluses on his fingertips.
"Don't be angry, okay? I won't run around next time," she coaxed softly, her fingertips patiently slipping through the gaps of his slightly curled fingers until their hands were tightly intertwined. Only then did she look up, a faint smile spreading across her lips.
Wu Li lowered his eyes and saw a head gently tilting out from under his shoulder.
The moonlight fell into her eyes, rippling into two bright, sparkling crescents.
Their fingers intertwined, their palms pressed together.
A numb, tingling sensation, like countless tiny ants gently crawling under his skin, made him feel at a loss.
No one had ever held his hand like this before.
Let alone wedged their fingers so firmly between his in such an intimate and stubborn manner.
He instinctively wanted to pull back, but the icy coldness coming from the woman's soft skin made him freeze slightly.
Her fingers were freezing.
Earlier, when she threw herself into his arms, her whole body had been wrapped in a warm temperature, like a cotton quilt soaked in sunlight, soft and fragrant, silently enveloping him.
But right now, she was cold.
Colder than him.
Jiang Zhiyu's earlier words about the deep night and heavy dew suddenly flashed past his ears. She neither knew martial arts nor practiced magic, and wearing only a thin Miao skirt in the night wind for so long, she had unknowingly become thoroughly chilled.
Even in her soft and sweet tone as she coaxed him right now, there was a faint, barely noticeable chatter of her teeth.
Wu Li frowned.
In the end, he didn't let go of her hand.
So weak, and such a hassle.
She couldn't carry or lift anything. Especially these hands, slender and soft, looking at a glance like the pampered hands of someone who had never done a day of hard work. She was probably some foolish daughter of a wealthy merchant from the Central Plains who had stumbled into Chishan by mistake.
Forget it.
Who asked for his gu to still be inside her?
He could only bear this trouble himself.
To the side, seeing this, Song Yueyao tugged at Jiang Zhiyu's cuff and reminded him in a low voice, "Let's go."
But Jiang Zhiyu still had a taut face, the sparks in his eyes unextinguished. Gripping his sword hilt, he stood rooted to the spot like a nailed wooden stake, immovable.
Without another word, Song Yueyao raised her hand and delivered a crisp flick to his forehead.
"I said let's go. Did you hear me?"
"Yaoyao..." Jiang Zhiyu shrank his neck in pain, raising his hand to touch the rapidly swelling bump on his forehead, his tone aggrieved. "Can you be gentler next time? You'll make me stupid."
"No!" Song Yueyao turned and walked away, her voice drifting back in the wind. "I was born a tigress. If you're not satisfied, you didn't have to chase me all the way here. Just go find a docile and obedient little bunny."
"I won't, I won't." Jiang Zhiyu instantly forgot the pain and quickly chased after her, his previous gloom having completely vanished into thin air. "A tigress is good. A tigress is so majestic."
Ever since Song Yueyao was brought back by Liangya Province and ordered to prepare for the political marriage, the two hadn't seen each other for a whole month. At this moment, Jiang Zhiyu couldn't care less about anyone else; he only wanted to stay close to her and not leave her side.
Since Yuebai the clan leader's identity had been revealed, and the real Qi Lao had already passed away, everything else would need to be considered at length.
Seeing the two walk away, Wu Li stood up and moved to pull Chai Xiaomi up.
"Ah, wait..." She suddenly took a soft breath, and halfway up, squatted back down.
"What's wrong?"
"My legs are numb." She grimaced, looking a bit uncomfortable, and added weakly, "And my head is dizzy... Wu Li, I think it's not just my legs. I have a fever."
A slender hand immediately pressed against her forehead.
So cool.
Chai Xiaomi unconsciously rubbed her forehead against his icy palm.
His hand was cold, but her forehead was burning like a small furnace. Wu Li's gaze darkened. "Can you still walk?"
Chai Xiaomi didn't speak. She just looked up, blinked twice, stared at him with wet eyes, and shook her head.
A few strands of hair were lifted by the night wind, brushing across her slightly flushed cheeks. The foxtail grass in her hair swayed gently with her movements, swaying cheerfully and cutely, yet revealing a hint of pitifulness.
The meaning conveyed in her eyes was obvious: she couldn't walk another step.
Wu Li sighed as if resigning to his fate and bent down.
"You still have the strength to climb up, right?"
The young man's back was broader than she had imagined. Chai Xiaomi softly rested her chin on his shoulder, her eyelids growing heavy.
Half asleep and half awake, she suddenly heard him ask in a low voice:
"Why did you lie and say you were pregnant?"
"Oh," Chai Xiaomi replied lazily. She had anticipated Wu Li's question and had already concocted an excuse in her head. "I could tell that guy was interested in me, so I said that on purpose to nip his thoughts in the bud."
She tilted her head, her breath brushing gently against the side of his neck. "Do you have any idea who he is? That's Jiang Zhiyu, the Young Master of Lingyu Province. If he really set his sights on me, how could I ever dare to refuse him? So... I had to inconvenience you to play the role of my husband just this once."
Wu Li's footsteps paused slightly.
After a brief silence, his flat, emotionless voice drifted over in the night breeze:
"Are you a pig?"
Chai Xiaomi: "?"
"I am actually very light, okay? I am not heavy at all!"
