He lowered his gaze to meet her eyes, only to find a cold indifference lurking beneath their soft, docile surface.
The pounding in his chest came to an abrupt halt.
Was she just... going through the motions?
When he remained silent, she asked again in a gentle voice, "Husband?"
He seized her wrist, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Xie Sangning, do you even know who I am?"
She paused, baffled by his strange question.
Softly, she replied, "You are my husband."
His gaze bore into her. "I said, who am I?"
A flicker of confusion crossed her eyes before she answered hesitantly, "Third Master He."
His expression tightened imperceptibly. "Are you happy to marry me today?"
She nodded. "Of course I am."
Yet her eyes remained devoid of any warmth.
He stared at her. "If you were marrying Pei Songhan today, would you be just as happy?"
Her composure faltered for the first time, a trace of genuine emotion breaking through her calm facade.
Was he out of his mind?
Why bring up Pei Songhan out of nowhere?
What difference did it make who she married? Why wouldn’t she be happy?
Puzzled, she asked, "Does Third Master mind my previous engagement to the Heir of the Duke of Ning?"
Seeing the detachment in her eyes, a surge of frustration rose in his chest. "Am I the same as him?"
She blinked. What was the difference?
Her patience was wearing thin—this man was truly difficult to please.
Pei Songhan had been much easier to placate.
With practiced sincerity, she met his gaze. "Of course not. You are my husband."
His breath hitched, his temples throbbing.
The answer was already written in her eyes.
To her, there was no difference between him and Pei Songhan.
In fact, it wouldn’t have mattered if she had married any other man today.
The joyful anticipation he had nurtured for the past month shattered in an instant.
His expression darkened as he gritted out, "So if I weren’t your husband, I’d be no different from him?"
Sangning’s brows knitted slightly—her patience had run out.
A flicker of irritation surfaced in her composed gaze as she stared back at him. "Third Master was well aware of my prior engagement to the Heir of the Duke of Ning when you sought my hand."
What was the point of this pointless argument?
She hadn’t forced him to marry her.
His breath caught, the frustration in his chest flaring into something hotter, trapped and directionless.
He had no right to vent it.
Sangning had no intention of humoring him further. Softly, she asked, "Does Third Master wish to retire for the night?"
The blatant indifference in her eyes was unmistakable—she might as well have written "obligation" across her face.
His chest tightened further. With a sharp movement, he stood. "No need."
She frowned. This man was utterly incomprehensible.
He strode out of the inner chamber and barked, "Someone! Draw me a bath!"
"Yes, sir!"
The maidservant waiting outside hurried to fetch hot water from the kitchen and carried it to the bathing chamber.
He Siyu stormed inside, his mood worsening at the sight of the steaming water. His already restless body grew even more agitated.
"Make it cold."
"But—cold water is bad for your health, Third Master," the old servant ventured timidly.
His jaw clenched. "Cold. Now."
"Yes!" She didn’t dare argue further, quickly replacing the hot water with a cold bath.
Xia Zhu slipped into the bedchamber and whispered, "Miss, what happened? Did the young master take offense?"
Sangning glanced toward the bathing chamber and sighed. "Who knows?"
"What should we do?" Xia Zhu fretted.
But Sangning remained unperturbed. What could she do? Let him be.
A man’s heart was impossible to control, and she had no interest in deciphering his moods.
If he wanted to consummate the marriage, fine. If not, he could turn to a concubine—so long as the child was raised under her name.
"Help me remove my headpiece," she said calmly.
"Yes, miss."
In the bathing chamber,
He Siyu submerged himself in the icy water, the chill gradually quelling the heat in his body and steadying his emotions.
This was only their third meeting—her wariness was natural.
She had always been guarded, and without memories of their past life, how could she trust him so easily?
They were married now. There was plenty of time. Why rush things?
He shouldn’t have lost his temper. She had just entered the He Family—she must feel uncertain. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t remember him.
Picking a fight on their wedding night would only make her uneasy.
Taking a deep breath, he rose from the tub, water cascading down his body. He dried himself hastily, threw on his sleeping robes, and stepped out.
When he returned to the bedchamber, he paused at the bedside, carefully choosing his words before speaking in a stiff tone.
"I didn’t mean to argue earlier."
No response.
His lips pressed into a thin line. "And I don’t care about your past engagement to Pei Songhan."
Still, she ignored him.
His brow furrowed as he pulled back the bed curtains. "If you’re angry with me—"
His words died in his throat.
There she was, fast asleep, her chest rising and falling gently, her breaths soft and even.
His expression froze.
She had actually... fallen asleep?!
At a time like this, she could just... sleep?!
She didn’t care about him at all!
