Chapter 13: Uncertain Skies

Upon hearing this, Song Qiao and Peier froze in unison, never imagining that he would make a joke out of something like this.

The two of them had been shivering violently from the cold while searching for the jade pendant. Even if Song Qiao had not pretended to faint, things had progressed to the point where they would very likely have fallen seriously ill from the cold.

And now Marquis Mu Yi was telling her that the pendant was nothing more than something he could take or leave?

Song Qiao studied his expression. It was difficult to tell whether she felt more anger or more grievance. “You knew from the beginning, didn’t you, my lord?”

“It was too dark outside. I failed to see it clearly for a moment.”

His utterly solemn expression made him look all the more detestable.

Still, it was better than having him lead them on a pointless search when nothing had been lost at all.

Song Qiao could only console herself with that thought, yet she could not stop herself from speaking to him bluntly. “Have you had enough revenge, my lord?”

The Song family’s betrayal had never made her feel this wretched. This was outright mockery!

Even if she had “framed” him first, she had done so to protect herself. Marquis Mu Yi, however, had acted with an entirely different motive.

Their eyes met. Mu Yi noticed her reddening eyes. “Why are you crying? I came back especially to see you, didn’t I?”

He reached out as though to wipe away her tears, treating her like a rebellious pet, occasionally showing the faintest trace of pity.

But only after he had first vented his anger.

Song Qiao turned her head away. Tears brimmed in her eyes, yet she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

“If my lord has not had enough revenge, then bring it on. Beat me or punish me as you please. But resorting to such despicable tricks behind my back hardly befits a gentleman.”

Ignoring Peier’s attempts to stop her, she blurted out everything she had been holding inside.

As expected, the man’s patience ran out. His expression darkened.

“Then I shall not be a gentleman today.”

With that, he undid his cloak and tossed it to Peier. At the same time, his cold, broad hand slipped beneath Song Qiao’s quilt and seized her slender waist with perfect accuracy, dragging her forcefully outward.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. By the time Song Qiao realized what was happening, she was already lying beneath him.

He had said that consummating their marriage would be put on the agenda as soon as possible. Could it be that he intended to turn the uncooked rice into cooked rice tonight?

Meeting Mu Yi’s eyes, dark with turbulent currents, Song Qiao’s heart gave a violent lurch. When he reached for her clothes, she could not help struggling desperately.

“Don’t!”

But men and women were naturally unequal in strength, and the man she faced was one who had practiced martial arts for years. She had no chance of winning.

“It is not up to you.” Ignoring her resistance, Mu Yi moved with such force and abandon that Peier was stunned.

When she caught sight of Song Qiao’s innermost garment, she hurriedly turned around.

Yet after waiting for a moment, Song Qiao suddenly stopped resisting. Instead, Peier heard her ask in bewilderment, “What are you doing?”

Peier cautiously turned her head and saw Mu Yi holding Song Qiao, whose clothes were in disarray. He had done nothing improper at all. He was simply examining her carefully.

Because of the propriety between men and women, the physician could not approach Song Qiao closely, and many injuries could not be detected merely by taking her pulse.

Peier saw that Song Qiao’s ankle was already visibly swollen. Without removing her clothes, such injuries would have gone unnoticed.

Song Qiao had not expected Mu Yi to go to such lengths merely to examine her. Although the whole scene had been an act, she had inevitably been injured when she fell—she had simply endured the pain without saying anything.

But Mu Yi had weathered countless battlefields. Such a thing could never escape his sharp eyes.

He paid no attention to the minor injuries that were of little consequence. Instead, he scooped out some ointment, warmed it in his palm, and firmly grasped Song Qiao’s ankle.

“Hiss—”

His hand was large enough to encircle her ankle completely. Blue veins crisscrossed the back of it, every inch revealing his formidable strength.

Gentleness and delicacy were not among his virtues, and he gave her no time to prepare herself. His rough motion made the pain so intense that her vision went black.

“I’ll do it myself,” Song Qiao pleaded hurriedly.

“If you do not want to become crippled, then be quiet.”

He shot her a glare, yet the pressure of his hand quietly eased. Slowly kneading her ankle, he helped disperse the blood stasis and reduce the swelling.

What was this supposed to be?

A slap followed by a sweet date?

Song Qiao frowned as she watched Mu Yi. She had to admit that she did not understand this mercurial man at all.

“This was made by the imperial physicians. Consider yourself fortunate.”

After applying the ointment, he returned to his sharp-tongued ways.

He took a handkerchief and wiped his hands with unhurried precision. Song Qiao, meanwhile, flushed scarlet. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

He cast her a glance, looking almost deliberately obtuse. “What else did you think I wanted to do?”

“I—”

Song Qiao met his eyes from across the space between them. Her face grew even redder as she hurriedly tied her sash.

Perhaps it was only her imagination, but she thought she heard the man laugh.

Unlike his usual mocking laughter, this one seemed to carry genuine amusement.