Jiu Yue frowned and couldn’t help but sigh again. "...You don’t need to apologize. I still believe in you. It’s all Qi Mingchuan’s fault."
She was a kind person who knew right from wrong and wouldn’t wrongly blame the innocent.
Sima Qing, however, laughed softly.
"You’re lying to me again," he said, setting down his wine cup and looking up at Jiu Yue as she lifted the wine jug and took several hearty gulps.
"Nonsense," Jiu Yue licked her lips, propping her chin on her hand as if lost in thought.
"Then you’re mistaken—you don’t actually believe in me," Sima Qing also rested his cheek on his hand, watching her quietly. "Otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken such a risk, using the assassin’s blade to stab yourself."
Jiu Yue rubbed her eyes, eyeing him suspiciously.
Sima Qing murmured to himself, absorbed in his thoughts: "You didn’t trust that I could handle it for you. You were afraid the emperor wouldn’t let you go, so you’d rather take that stab wound, cleanly deceiving everyone, and leave without a care… Am I right?"
"Have you noticed…" Jiu Yue suddenly spoke up.
Sima Qing turned to her a beat slower.
Jiu Yue let out a muffled hiccup, refilled both their cups, then happily raised hers. "This wine isn’t spicy at all. It’s actually quite nice."
Sima Qing’s attention was instantly pulled back to the wine.
He suddenly stood, bracing one hand beside Jiu Yue while lifting his cup with the other, asking almost meekly, "Then… can we drink the wedding wine now?"
"Right, right…" Jiu Yue patted her head, belatedly realizing. "I almost forgot—tonight’s our wedding night!"
Sima Qing seemed a little aggrieved. He hooked his arm around hers, leaning in slightly at her urging, effectively encircling her in his embrace.
He nodded, his tone tinged with melancholy. "Yeah."
"Don’t worry, we can argue all we want, but the wine must still be drunk," Jiu Yue declared, sitting on the table—though lower in position, she remained domineering. She patted Sima Qing’s head reassuringly. "One thing at a time!"
Sima Qing smiled faintly. "Good."
Both satisfied, they tipped their heads back and drained their cups.
The long-awaited wedding wine ritual was finally complete.
As soon as Sima Qing set his cup down, he swayed dizzily and collapsed backward.
The wine’s aftereffects seemed unusually strong… His vision blurred as his eyes fluttered shut.
Jiu Yue, however, took several more swigs from the jug. Only when it was empty did she toss it aside regretfully, her gaze landing on Sima Qing. She hopped over to him.
"Don’t sleep here—sleeping isn’t allowed in this spot," she insisted, tugging at him.
Sima Qing wobbled as she pulled him up.
Jiu Yue slung an arm over his shoulders, steering him toward the bed behind the screen. "That’s where you sleep."
Sima Qing rubbed his temples, his consciousness already hazy. He simply leaned against her, letting her guide him until they both tumbled onto the bed.
By the time he woke again, it was deep into the night.
Sima Qing sat up, pressing a hand to his throbbing forehead as memories slowly returned. He froze for a moment, then turned to see Jiu Yue curled up in the corner.
Both were still in their wedding attire.
In the quiet of the night, he watched her for a while before getting up to fetch water.
One by one, he removed Jiu Yue’s hair ornaments and headpiece, then gently wiped her face, cleaned her feet, and even coaxed her to drink a little water.
By the time he lay back down, dawn was nearing. Sima Qing lay on his side, tracing the peaceful lines of Jiu Yue’s sleeping face with his eyes.
She was deep in slumber—otherwise, with her sharp instincts, she would’ve woken the moment he approached… Clearly, he couldn’t let her touch alcohol again.
Tonight, they had laid everything bare. Maybe now they could treat each other with respect and harmony?
Sima Qing’s hopes weren’t high. He didn’t expect profound affection from Jiu Yue—only that there’d be no misunderstandings between them, that they could go back to how things were before… Just staying by his side for a few more years would be enough.
…
When Jiu Yue awoke, the sun was already high.
This was the deepest sleep she’d had since transmigrating—so deep it felt like death.
Her eyelids still heavy, she didn’t rush to open them. Her mind felt scrambled, as if put through a blender. She pinched the bridge of her nose, her thoughts blank.
What happened?
She forced her eyes open—
Then immediately squeezed them shut again.
Damn it.
Why was Sima Qing in her bed?!
Jiu Yue opened her eyes once more, disbelieving. The face inches from hers was unmistakably that scheming diviner—she half-expected him to open his eyes and mock her any second!
His warm breath brushed her cheek. Reality finally sank in. She bolted upright, looking down—her wedding robes were still on.
Sima Qing was still in his too.
Wedding robes… Right, they’d gotten married yesterday. She’d just brought Sima Qing home.
And then? Then there was the palace banquet, where her cousin teased her about making sure Sima Qing bathed—as if she were some kind of pervert! Rotten cousin!
After that, Sima Qing had returned first while she went to see her father… The emperor had earnestly advised her to treat it as a fling, to never take it seriously.
Then night fell, and she decided to clear the air with Sima Qing—
Jiu Yue’s eyes flew wide.
She remembered now!
That bastard Sima Qing had been deceiving her too!
He’d known all along that she faked her death!
No wonder he’d played the meek little victim in her estate—he could’ve confronted her directly!
He’d deliberately toyed with her, relishing her inner turmoil as she struggled to face him while forcing herself to stay! That conniving snake!
And then? Then nothing. Her memory went blank.
Her gaze landed on the wine jug and cups scattered on the floor. Realization struck—that black-hearted schemer must have gotten her drunk and carried her to bed!
Devious Sima Qing!
Furious, Jiu Yue glared at the still-sleeping man, her anger boiling until she couldn’t resist kicking him off the bed.
Sima Qing, who had only just closed his eyes: "…"
A dull pain shot through his back as he slowly turned his head, meeting Jiu Yue’s finger pointed accusingly at him. "I’ll never forgive you!"
Sima Qing: "…"
Sima Qing: "???"
He sat up from the floor, watching Jiu Yue storm out in a rage, his expression crumbling piece by piece.
