The farce finally ended with the wet nurse taking Yan Wenjing away.

Chu Ruoyan returned to the wedding bed and covered herself with the red veil. Before long, the door was pushed open.

The man who entered sat upright in a wheelchair, his crimson wedding robes faintly stained with the scent of wine—it was Yan Zheng!

Her fingers tightened slightly, but he didn’t approach her. Instead, he stopped by the table and poured himself a full cup of wine.

Then, he spilled it onto the ground.

“At least you’ve seen the day I married…”

His voice was low, spoken into the empty air, carrying a desolate tone.

A chill ran down Chu Ruoyan’s spine.

Was he addressing the long-deceased Eldest Sister-in-law of the Rong Family?

After this, he refilled his cup with tea and drank it in one gulp.

“Remove the wedding veil.”

His cold tone betrayed no emotion.

But Chu Ruoyan knew these words were meant for her.

After a hesitant pause, she replied, “This… may not be proper etiquette.”

He scoffed and tossed a wedding scale toward her.

A man of the battlefield despised hesitation.

Chu Ruoyan gripped the scale and lifted it with a flick.

The red veil fluttered down.

Amid the warm glow of candlelight, she met a face so strikingly handsome it seemed unreal.

In truth, this was only the second time she had truly seen him.

Their first encounter had been a fleeting glimpse at the city gates, but now, she could clearly make out his sharp brows and thin lips…

At past flower-viewing banquets, noble ladies had once remarked:

“Of the five Yan sons, each possesses his own charm, but the third, Yan Zheng, stands above all—peerless in both scholarship and martial prowess, with a bearing like a phoenix and the grace of a dragon, his beauty as if carved by the heavens.”

Now, she could see the last two lines were no exaggeration.

She took a deep breath, rose, and bowed. “This humble wife, Chu Ruoyan, greets the Marquis.”

The room fell into silence.

Yan Zheng showed no reaction.

His gaze was icy—whether directed at her, the red candles, or the wedding bed—as if he were looking at lifeless objects.

Chu Ruoyan held her position. One moment, then two… Beads of sweat formed at her temples, and her legs began to numb. Just as she thought he wouldn’t respond, two curt words came.

“Change my clothes.”

Wedding robes were intricate by nature, and with Yan Zheng confined to the wheelchair, the task was even more cumbersome.

Chu Ruoyan had to half-kneel, carefully undoing the collar clasp before moving behind him to assist.

The man sat rigidly straight, like a spear unsheathed.

Yet the most vulnerable part of him—the nape of his neck—was exposed to her, utterly defenseless, as if inviting her in.

Her breath hitched. Unconsciously, her fingers brushed the golden hairpin at her temple.

If she acted now… she was certain she could strike a fatal blow.

But at that very moment, Steward Fang’s urgent voice came from outside.

“Marquis, have you retired? The Old Madam’s residence is in an uproar again…”

Shou’antang was Grandma Yan’s dwelling.

Yan Zheng turned sharply toward the door. Chu Ruoyan spoke up, “Husband, shall this wife accompany you?”

Yan Zheng glanced at her but neither agreed nor refused.

Chu Ruoyan hurried after him.

The night was deep and still.

Shou’antang was in chaos.

Grandma Yan, her hair disheveled, cowered in a corner, brandishing a shattered medicine bowl. “Go away! All of you! Don’t you dare harm my son!”

The servants, afraid she might hurt herself, had retreated to the doorway.

Madam Li coaxed gently, “Grandmother, no one is harming Father. Please put that down, won’t you?”

Grandma Yan grew agitated. “Lies! Lies! I saw it with my own eyes—so many people, so much blood!”

“Was it you? Was it you who wanted to harm him?”

As she spoke, she lunged forward. The room erupted into disorder, forcing Madam Li to step outside—where she spotted Yan Zheng.

Relief washed over her. “Third Brother, you’ve come at last! Quickly, Grandmother is having another episode!”

Yan Zheng entered expressionlessly.

Inside, the maids were trying to calm Grandma Yan. Seeing him, they exclaimed, “Old Madam, look! The General is here!”

Grandma Yan lifted her dazed eyes.

At the sight of Yan Zheng, her wrinkled face broke into a smile. “Eldest! Come here, let me look at you!”

Yan Zheng approached. Grandma Yan cupped his face tenderly, studying him left and right.

“No… Eldest, you’ve grown so thin.”

“You—you’re not my Eldest! Who are you? Who are you?!”

The kindly old woman from moments ago suddenly turned violent, slashing the broken shard toward him.

“Careful!”

Chu Ruoyan cried out, but Yan Zheng merely raised a hand and caught Grandma Yan’s wrist firmly.

“Grandmother, it’s me.”

Slowly, clarity returned to the old woman’s eyes.

She stared at him blankly before bursting into tears and laughter. “It’s you… Why is it you, you cursed star?”

“Why was it you who survived?”

The words were like a knife to the heart!

Yet when Chu Ruoyan scanned the room, no one seemed the least bit surprised!

Yan Zheng’s expression remained unreadable. He allowed Grandma Yan to exhaust herself with weeping before prying the shard from her grip and handing it to Madam Li.

“Keep these away in the future.”

Madam Li nodded hastily. “Tomorrow, I’ll have all the items in Grandmother’s room replaced with wooden ones. Even if she acts out again, she won’t be able to harm anyone.”

Yan Zheng gave a noncommittal hum. Then Madam Li noticed Chu Ruoyan and offered an apologetic smile. “You must be Third Sister-in-Law? My deepest apologies for disturbing your wedding night like this…”

Chu Ruoyan assured her it was no trouble.

Watching the weary faces in Shou’antang, she sighed inwardly.

With the men of the family lying cold in their graves and the matriarch reduced to this state, the only thing holding the household together was the Yan family’s former prestige.

But how much longer could this crumbling ship stay afloat?

The next morning.

When Chu Ruoyan awoke, Yan Zheng was already gone.

Yulu, unaware of the previous night’s events, brought in hot water and couldn’t hide her dismay at seeing her mistress untouched. “Miss, the young master truly doesn’t value you at all…”

Chu Ruoyan couldn’t explain. After washing up, she changed into formal attire and headed to the main hall.

The Yan family’s memorial altar was set up there.

White banners and mourning cloths draped the space, the sound of weeping unceasing.

None of the Yan masters were present. The servants stared in surprise as the new bride came to pay her respects so soon after the wedding.

“Third Young Madam.”

Steward Fang approached, his eyes warm with approval. Chu Ruoyan inclined her head. “Steward Fang, Ruoyan wishes to offer prayers to Father and the brothers.”

Steward Fang guided her forward. Six spirit tablets stood on the altar: at the center were General Yan Xu and Madam Xie, flanked by the eldest son Yan Xun, the second son Yan Cheng, the fifth son Yan Heng, and the youngest, Yan Zhao.

Chu Ruoyan knelt properly.

Silently, she prayed: General, Madam, and honored brothers, as Yan Zheng’s wife, I am now part of the Yan family. If he turns from his bitter path, I will stand by him through hardship. If not… I beg your forgiveness.

She kowtowed three times, then lit incense and burned joss paper.

Once finished, she stepped out of the memorial hall and said, “Steward Fang, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Young Madam. Please speak freely.”

After a pause, she chose her words carefully. “I wish to know… in the past, how was the Marquis treated in this household? Did… Grandma Yan dislike him?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep