Chapter 16

He Mingchuan fought the urge to shove her out of the room. “It’s hot—no need for a quilt. The kang is warm already, but you need a mattress underneath.”

Honestly, he could’ve just slept in a chair for the night. But for some reason, he just wanted to give Lu Miao something to fuss over.

He had never seen a woman change her face so fast. At their first meeting, she was all polite and enthusiastic. Now, second meeting in, she was asking him to make do with whatever and saying all kinds of shameless things.

Lu Miao wasn’t about to give up her own quilt for someone else. “Fine, I’ll go see what I can do.”

Before heading out, she added, “But don’t get your hopes up.”

She stepped outside and made a show of wandering around the courtyard, planning to just circle once and go back to give Mingchuan some excuse.

But as soon as she walked out, Qiao Yanxiang—concerned about how Mingchuan was doing—asked, “What’s going on? Is Mingchuan not settling in well?”

“Nothing really,” Lu Miao replied.

“But I think I heard you two talking about bedding?”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Lu Miao casually said, “He did mention it, but we didn’t find any extra bedding at home. He’ll just have to tough it out tonight.”

Qiao Yanxiang slapped her forehead. “Oh, I’m such a fool. I totally forgot!”

Without another word, she headed to Lu Miao’s room where her wedding dowry was kept and pulled out a newly made quilt and mattress. “Go give this to Mingchuan.”

“I thought this was part of my dowry?” No one else in the house was even allowed to touch it—Qiao Yanxiang had been firm about that.

Even Lu Miao hadn’t been allowed to use it. Her mother had insisted it was only for after marriage.

Qiao Yanxiang scoffed, “Of course it’s your dowry! But you’ll be using it with Mingchuan, so don’t be so stiff-headed.”

Lu Miao rolled her eyes. “Stiff-headed? Sounds more like you’re just playing favorites.”

As her daughter walked away, Qiao Yanxiang muttered under her breath, “Ungrateful girl. Everything I do for him is for your sake.”

The quilt Qiao Yanxiang had sewn was heavy and thick. Lu Miao struggled to carry it over to the kang in the west room.

“Here. Cover yourself.”

He Mingchuan looked at the bedding and frowned. “This isn’t your quilt, is it?”

Lu Miao gave him a glare. “What kind of wishful thinking do you have going on?”

He looked like he was hoping it was hers—He Mingchuan was left speechless. “You…”

Lu Miao yawned. “Go to sleep. Anything else you need?”

His handsome face darkened as he stiffly replied, “No.”

The next morning, even before 7 a.m., villagers had started showing up to help with the wedding preparations.

Out in the courtyard, people were busy preparing food for the feast. He Mingchuan came back from outside. Even though he wasn’t in the army anymore, he still trained daily, keeping up his discipline.

Qiao Yanxiang had assumed he was still in bed like her daughter—but turns out, he’d already been up exercising. She felt a little embarrassed. Lu Miao was still fast asleep.

Not wanting others to know her daughter hadn’t gotten up yet, she told Mingchuan, “There’s hot food in the pot—go have some breakfast. After you eat, wake Sanshui up. She’s probably still fixing herself up.”

In truth, she just wanted to buy her daughter some extra time to sleep.

Speaking with a teasing tone, she complained about her daughter being vain. The relatives and neighbors chuckled good-naturedly.

“She’s a young girl—it’s normal to want to look good.”

He Mingchuan walked up to the room, knocked twice, and called out, “Lu Miao.”

Silence.

He called again. Still no response.

There was a piece of cloth draped over the window above the door, and through it, he could tell the room was still dark.

A thought crossed his mind: She’s not still sleeping, is she?

But he shook it off. The courtyard was noisy—any normal person would’ve woken up by now.

He checked his watch—it was already 7 a.m.

He called one more time.

Finally, a grumpy, sleepy voice shot back, “What?!”

So she was still asleep.

“You need to get up,” he said calmly.

There wasn’t a clock in the room, and with all the noise outside, she figured it probably was time to get up.

“Okay,” she answered groggily, then casually added, “Go fetch me some water to wash my face.”

She was so used to ordering around Lu Congge that it didn’t even feel weird.

It wasn’t until a moment later that she remembered—Lu Congge was away at school, miles away in the county.

The one standing outside wasn’t her makeshift servant—it was He Mingchuan.

He had never met anyone this lazy. The place was buzzing, but she could still sleep like a log.

And now she was even getting someone else to fetch her face-washing water?

A basin of water appeared before her. Lu Miao raised her brows—wow, cold and aloof as he was, he actually listened.

Qiao Yanxiang had a strong sense of pride. She loved showing off her kids, loved making it seem like her life was better than everyone else's.

To live up to her mother’s expectations, Lu Miao had to look absolutely flawless.

She put on a red short-sleeved top—fabric specially bought by Qiao Yanxiang for the wedding.

The deep red would usually make people look darker, but Lu Miao had fair skin and pulled it off beautifully.

The bell-shaped ruffled sleeves added a breezy, feminine touch. Qiao Yanxiang had never seen this kind of design before—Lu Miao had guided her through making it.

Though she’d grumbled nonstop while sewing, calling her daughter a know-it-all, once Lu Miao tried it on, she fell completely silent.

When Lu Miao stepped out in her new outfit, she did a twirl in front of He Mingchuan and asked smugly, “Pretty, right?”

How could she not be?

She was in her early twenties, fresh and radiant. Those delicate willow-leaf brows, those bright, expressive eyes—when she smiled, the corners of her eyes lifted with confidence and charm.

He Mingchuan looked away without answering.

Lu Miao didn’t care. She looked into the mirror and muttered, “No taste.”

Another note added to He Mingchuan’s mental list: Vain and full of herself.

She was nothing like the sweet, obedient girl his father had described in his letter.

Lu Miao knew exactly what her mom cared about most.

Just before stepping out, she grabbed Mingchuan’s arm and played up the affection between them.

He frowned deeply, lips pressed into a line, looking like a cat about to puff up. “What are you doing?”

Lu Miao blinked at him. “We’re newlyweds! If we don’t act close, people will think we’re getting divorced tomorrow.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

She let go and started painting a picture. “Think about it. If we walk out one after the other, like total strangers—those who know we’re married might just say we’re weird, but those who don’t know might think we’re not even the couple getting married!”

He didn’t react, so she pressed on.

She sighed dramatically. “I mean, it’s not like I want to do this, but you know how nosy people in the village are. They make stuff up out of thin air! If we don’t act close today, they’ll be saying all kinds of garbage tomorrow—like we’re getting a divorce, or you don’t like me, or my parents raised me wrong. Then you and I leave, and it’s them who get stuck dealing with the gossip. So sad, right?”

She even pretended to wipe tears, sneaking peeks at his expression through her fingers.

After a long pause, he muttered, “Just this once.”

Lu Miao grinned and immediately stopped crying, giving him a wink. “Deal~”

“He Mingchuan, you’re such a good person!”

But the second she hooked her arm around his, he tensed up like a statue—like he was about to spring into a military salute at any moment.

Lu Miao wasn’t satisfied. The way he stood there, it was obvious he was being forced. No one would believe they were a happy couple.

She patted his rock-hard muscles. “Relax a little, will you?”

Taking out her favorite little mirror, she checked their reflection. She looked like she was posing with a cardboard cutout—good-looking, but completely lifeless.

There was zero chemistry.

Her eyes landed on his face. Ah, that’s where the problem was.

“It’s our wedding, can’t you at least pretend to be happy?”

“Will you smile a little?” she pleaded, practically stomping in frustration.

Seeing her anxious little face in the mirror, He Mingchuan forced a smile.

“Forget it—don’t smile. That’s even scarier than your serious face.”

“Lu Miao!” he snapped, completely regretting ever agreeing to go along with this whole act.

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