Chapter 134

Xie Yunchu rose slowly and called softly, “Second Young Master?”

The man opened his eyes—still that clear, handsome face, and his expression not much different from usual. The madness of last night must have been due to pent-up time; Xie Yunchu did not press and merely asked, “Why have you come back at this hour?”

Wang Shuhuai stared at his wife with fatigue showing. On the twenty-fourth he’d received a pigeon-letter and had hastened to the capital on urgent horses, sleeping only two hours at the Huai River dock before pressing on, finally returning to the capital on the night of the twenty-fifth.

He had heard en route that Xie Yunchu’s scare had been a false alarm and breathed a genuine sigh of relief. Seeing his soft wife lying on the bed when he returned, he could not restrain himself.

Having stifled months of restless longing, he’d finally touched her—how could he not indulge?

For reasons unknown, he did not tell Xie Yunchu the full truth and only said, “I pacified Yuhang; some old ministers at court were dissatisfied, and the Emperor urgently summoned people to the capital. Minister Liu fell ill, so I took his place.”

“Not a major matter,” he added.

Xie Yunchu poured tea for him herself. “Oh, this year’s West Lake Longjing is scarce. I sent what was allotted to the south for you. Try this Wuyi Dahongpao.”

Wang Shuhuai did not favor overly strong tea; after a small sip he set it down.

Xie Yunchu added, “Buy more when you go back to Jinling.”

His gaze fell on their sleeping daughter. “How is Ke’er?”

Mention of their daughter brought an involuntary smile to Xie Yunchu’s face. She shifted her gaze and lovingly smoothed the child’s hair. “She’s well. She can hold onto chairs and walk quite a distance—she hasn’t properly learned to walk but insists on running. Yesterday she fell; I thought she’d cry, but she didn’t—she wiped her dirty face and smiled at me.”

Softness came over Wang Shuhuai’s features. “She takes after me.” He paused, then, thinking of Xie Yunchu, added, “And also you.”

The atmosphere turned odd.

Xie Yunchu looked at the child; Wang Shuhuai looked at her.

Many words crowded their hearts, but none came forth.

“By the way, do you like the fabrics I brought? If you do, I’ll buy more next time.”

Even an ostentatiously wealthy man knew how to care for his wife; Wang Shuhuai could do the same.

On the way back to the capital he had been thinking: these past two years he had been too busy and spent little time with her. He had hoped she would worry over him.

Xie Yunchu straightened her daughter’s collar without looking up. “The Second Young Master brought it back; I at once distributed it among the other branches. They all worry about the Second Young Master’s safety, so I did him this favor. Whenever some other young master leaves the capital or goes traveling, they always bring back gifts—so we must return the courtesy.”

Wang Shuhuai felt a touch of disappointment, but thought his wife had done the right thing.

“I’ll pick more next time,” he said, his gaze falling on her hairpin. Seeing she did not wear the pin he had carved, he could not help asking, “What kind of jewelry do you like?”

If his earlier remark had been mere politeness, this sudden, unprompted question made Xie Yunchu surprised.

“Second Young Master?” She turned her eyes to meet his.

Wang Shuhuai’s face showed no change; he did not explain, as if the question were perfectly ordinary.

Xie Yunchu, unwilling to pry, forced a smile. “We have everything at home; you needn’t trouble yourself. But you—do you have enough silver in Jinling? If not, the monthly stipend you gave before, I’ve been keeping it aside for you; you can take it.”

Wang Shuhuai shook his head. “No need. Keep it for your expenses. I’m fine in Jinling.”

After saying it he felt some regret, afraid that by speaking so he would drive a wedge between them.

Sure enough, Xie Yunchu relaxed; her smile smoothed. “The second Young Master looks prosperous—your complexion is much better.”

She noticed a change in his brows, like a sheathed blade being drawn, a glint of sharpness across his features. Young and already in command, he must be high-spirited and ambitious.

Wang Shuhuai had seen the Emperor that day; the results pleased the sovereign and granted him greater authority. He was indeed in good spirits.

“So,” his clear eyes turned to her, “in a little while I’ll be able to secure my footing in Jinling. Would you come south with me?”

Xie Yunchu choked on her tea and pointed at their child. “Our daughter is still so small, she might not adapt to the climate there.”

Wang Shuhuai looked at the tender little girl and clicked his tongue inwardly, putting the thought aside.

Xie Yunchu found his behavior odd and asked, unable to hide her curiosity, “Second Young Master, why do you want me to go with you?”

In her previous life, he had been afraid she would cling to him and hold him back.

Wang Shuhuai could not say he was guarding against Prince Xin troubling his wife again, so he explained, “There are many social obligations in Jinling. If you were there, you could help me shoulder some of them.”

That reason sounded convincing.

But in her previous life Wang Shuhuai had pried open Jinling’s affairs alone; the political skill that would precede him a future prime minister was tempered in Jinling—he didn’t need her assistance.

Xie Yunchu forced a perfunctory smile. “I’m dull and might hinder you. I’m used to life inside the capital’s mansion. Please, Second Young Master, give up such an idea.” She adopted an official tone.

Wang Shuhuai had no reply. He gloomily drained the cup of Da Hong Pao.

A taste hard to describe spread across his lips. He rose to go to the inner chambers. “I’ll pay respects to my parents.”

Xie Yunchu, needle and thread in hand, was puzzled. Wang Shuhuai was a man of strict propriety—whenever he returned to the residence he always first greeted his elders before coming to see his daughter. That night, though, the sun seemed to have risen from the west.

Just then, Dongning brought the accounts for the past two days. Xie Yunchu’s thoughts were interrupted and she turned to her chores.

After finishing the calculations, the wet nurse came in to ask what to prepare for supper. Xie Yunchu was startled—she had forgotten to ask how long he would stay. Never mind; he was a man always in a hurry. Perhaps he would leave without her even noticing. “Prepare things to suit the Second Young Master’s tastes,” she said.

Since Wang Shuhuai had just come back, there would be endless business; Xie Yunchu never expected him to stay in the rear chamber. No lamp was left burning, no water set out.

When Wang Shuhuai slipped into Chunjing Hall in the middle of the night and found the room dark and the inner chamber silent, his mood was hard to put into words.

Whether she fretted for him or not—hadn’t she yet borne a legitimate son—did she truly not care?