Chapter 8: I Am Not Used to Having Others Around

Song Qiao thought she could hold on, but she had not realized her body was in such a wretched state.

Just as she was feeling dazed, Mu Yi’s voice sounded from above, neither light nor heavy. "Are you trying to appease my anger by throwing yourself into my arms?"

Song Qiao wanted to say no, but she lacked the strength to struggle; if she did not lean on him, she would surely collapse onto the floor.

Mu Yi waited for a moment, but hearing no reply, he looked down and realized her complexion was alarmingly pale, with beads of sweat silently covering her forehead.

"Troublesome." He whispered with impatience, instantly understanding the situation.

Song Qiao sensed danger; given Mu Yi’s temperament, she was bound to suffer for this. She braced herself to be pushed away, but instead, Mu Yi suddenly reached out and scooped her up into his arms.

Suddenly suspended in the air, Song Qiao was terrified and instinctively started to struggle, but upon catching the warning glint in the man’s eyes, she dared not move again.

Song Qiao was lighter than Mu Yi had imagined; he carried her into the room without the slightest effort. He laid her down on the bed but did not pull away, instead pressing his body over hers. Seeing her shock and agitation, he found it rather amusing.

After a brief silence, he asked with startling directness, "It is said the carriage driver from that year is still alive. It was his incompetence in handling the horses that caused you such suffering. Shall I hunt him down so you can have your revenge?"

Hearing this, Song Qiao’s heart trembled in fear. "Why does the Marquis bring this up so suddenly?"

"Judging by your reaction, it seems you do not wish for me to find him?" Mu Yi stared at her unblinkingly, his gaze turning piercingly sharp, as if he had detected some hidden flaw.

Song Qiao clutched her sweaty palms. "I simply feel that times have changed, and there is no point in dredging up old grievances."

"My lady is truly magnanimous," Mu Yi narrowed his eyes, as if he intended to bore a hole through her. "But the only daughter of Minister Song was famous for her sharp tongue and fierce temper. When did she become so understanding?"

"I was a maiden then, but now I am a wife; naturally, I must temper my temperament." Song Qiao dared not meet his eyes. "The Marquis would not like a cruel and ruthless woman, would he?"

This remark successfully wiped the fake smile from Mu Yi’s face. "Save your energy. No matter what kind of woman you are, I would never like you."

"Have I offended you in some way, my Lord?"

The two were so close that Mu Yi could have kissed her had he leaned down just a fraction. Yet, this seductive ambiguity did not dull his senses. He easily saw through her ruse. "Trying to change the subject with me, are you?"

He was not easily fooled; Song Qiao had known this since their first meeting. She decided to be blunt. "If you truly wished to seek justice for me, you should have demanded accountability as soon as the incident occurred, rather than waiting until today to bring up the past."

Although guilty, Song Qiao was not so rattled as to lose her composure. "If you wish to test me, my Lord, you might as well speak plainly."

"What a clever tongue you have." With his intentions exposed, Mu Yi did not deny it. He asked straight to the point, "The horses going out of control was not an accident, was it?"

For a moment, Song Qiao even forgot how to breathe. Mu Yi must have discovered something, or he would not speak with such certainty. Her silence was taken by Mu Yi as an admission. He suddenly laughed, his handsome face veiled in shifting, enigmatic shadows.

"If you wanted to escape, you should have said so earlier. Why would I have bothered to stop the carriage? If this marriage does not work out, that is exactly what I desire."

"I did not want to escape." Song Qiao could not tell if his words were true or false, but she denied it immediately. "I had an argument with my mother on the day of my return visit. I was distressed and wanted to clear my head, so I grabbed the reins from the driver. Who knew the horses would become uncontrollable in my hands..."

Mu Yi frowned, questioning her with half-belief. "What was the argument about?"

Song Qiao blurted out a fabrication, "My mother wanted me to bear you a son as soon as possible."

"And you were unwilling?" Mu Yi was slightly piqued, seemingly finding her ungrateful.

Song Qiao’s mind raced. "I was young then, and I did not want to be a mother so soon."

Mu Yi looked down at her from above. "Is that all?"

"What else would you think it was, my Lord? This marriage is something many would give their lives for. If I were given another chance, I would certainly listen to my mother and never give the Shen woman a chance to enter this house."

Mu Yi was right; the real Song Yuan was sharp-tongued and fierce. She shouldn’t be acting so timid; she ought to be a bit more headstrong and willful.

Mu Yi uncharacteristically fell silent, but the coldness surrounding him and the suspicion in his eyes were fading at a visible rate. He had indeed been trying to bluff her.

Song Qiao thought she had slipped through, but the man defied expectations, pulling her closer in his arms with a forceful tug. As their lips were about to meet, Song Qiao instinctively turned her head, her nose colliding squarely with his rigid shoulder bone. The pain made tears well up in her eyes.

"Why are you dodging?" Mu Yi watched her coldly.

"I caught a cold two days ago, and I was afraid of passing the sickness to you, my Lord."

His hot breath brushed against her cheek, and he smiled with a mocking glint in his eyes. "You are much more attentive to me now than before."

Song Qiao’s voice took on a sobbing tone. "You are my husband; naturally, I must put you first."

Mu Yi let out an ambiguous laugh. "With such awareness, it seems I must reward you properly."

As he spoke, his calloused hand gripped her chin, forcing her face back to look at him. He fixed his gaze on her lips, his movements suggesting he was about to kiss her.

Song Qiao’s scalp went numb. Just as she was at a loss, she caught a glimpse of Shen Ruoxi standing at the doorway over his shoulder.

"Shen is still waiting for you outside; it would not be right to leave her waiting, would it, my Lord?"

"If you cooperate obediently, I can leave sooner."

Song Qiao pushed against Mu Yi’s shoulder, her voice not too loud, yet just enough for Shen Ruoxi to hear. "But with someone else present, I am not used to it."

Mu Yi looked at her suddenly radiant smile, as if he had realized something. He turned his head and met exactly the helpless expression on Shen Ruoxi’s face.