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The Shen household was simple. Grandfather and grandmother had long passed away, and Shen Zheng’an had no concubines. The family consisted of just four members: the parents and their two children. Shen Wenwu was currently under house arrest for a mistake he had made. Shen Zheng’an forbade him from leaving his room, and the servants brought his meals to him. Thus, dinner was served for four.

Shen Shuyao had been sitting on a chair outside the kitchen for quite a while. During that time, A Si came looking for her but was sent away by the kitchen steward, so she never met him. At last, when the meal was ready, she was able to leave the smoky kitchen behind.

After taking a few steps, she turned back deliberately and circled the kitchen twice. She feared that if she didn’t carry the smell of cooking oil on her clothes, it might arouse Xie Yi’s suspicion. Cuihua covered her mouth to laugh and teased her for being overly sensitive. She said Xie Yi wouldn’t notice; if he could, he would have already found out long ago, not just now.

Shen Shuyao thought it made sense, yet being cautious never hurt.

Before dinner, she returned to her room to bathe and change clothes. When she entered, Xie Yi was there too. He wasn’t reading but gazed downward in deep thought. Upon seeing her come in, his dark eyes lifted and fixed on her without blinking. His brow was furrowed, his expression cold, stern, and imposing. Holding his gaze for a few moments, Shen Shuyao felt her chest tighten and an inexplicable nervousness rise within her.

No wonder they called him Lord Xie; such a gaze could make even a criminal tremble in fear—it was rather terrifying.

But she was no criminal. Why stare at her like that? She was Xie Yi’s wife and had no reason to be afraid. Thinking this, Shen Shuyao relaxed. She sipped two cups of tea, yet his eyes never left her.

She parted her lips and asked, “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?”

Though she felt no need to be nervous, being watched so intently was uncomfortable. It was like being the prey under a predator’s gaze, with nowhere to escape. And she was that plump little rabbit, delivered right to his doorstep.

Shen Shuyao touched her cheek, sneaking glances at him and furrowing her brows, studying his expression.

Finally, the man moved slightly, his eyes darkening as he spoke coolly, “Did you go to the kitchen?”

She nodded, seeing nothing unusual. “Yes, my clothes smelled strongly, so I came back to wash and change before returning.”

At that moment, a servant carried in water. The two glanced at each other, and once the servant left, they turned back to face one another.

“You didn’t go anywhere else?”

His tone was cold, laced with suspicion. Shen Shuyao recalled A Si had come looking for her in the kitchen just now, so she replied, “I didn’t go anywhere else. Why did you have A Si look for me?”

Xie Yi’s expression shifted slightly. He replied coldly that it was nothing, but his distant demeanor made Shen Shuyao uneasy. Had he seen through something?

She went to the side room to bathe. After a while, dressed and with her face flushed, she glanced at Xie Yi and said, “I made your favorite, ginger duck.”

The man responded with a slight nod, showing no extra expression—neither joy nor anger could be read. From what she knew of Xie Yi, he was probably troubled but unwilling to speak of it.

Since their marriage, Shen Shuyao had noticed that Xie Yi was taciturn and stoic; whether pleased or displeased, his expression remained unchanged. On the rare occasions he showed emotion, he was reserved and introspective, keeping his thoughts locked away. When asked, he either remained silent or stared so deeply it unnerved others until he was left alone.

Shen Shuyao didn’t question further. “Let’s go. Don’t keep your parents waiting.”

Xie Yi changed into a dark green robe before heading out, appearing even more solemn. He set down his cup and walked straight ahead.

She followed behind, pouting as she observed his tall figure. She thought to herself, what was the point of being so tall if he was as dull as a block of wood, utterly lacking in charm?

At times like this, a married couple would naturally walk arm in arm. But him? He walked ahead alone, while she trailed behind, seeming more like his attendant than his wife.

Her gaze drifted downward to his injured leg. Remarkably, despite the injury, he walked quite quickly—even faster than she did, and she was in good health. Was it because of his long legs?

Shen Shuyao glanced at her own legs. She was petite in front of Xie Yi but not short among women. Her legs were not short, well-proportioned, straight, and fair—perfectly complementing her slim waist.

Blushing at the thought, she shifted her gaze from her legs to the floor ahead, only to suddenly bump her head against a wall, ringing painfully.

“Hey…” Why had he stopped without a word?

She rubbed her forehead, which throbbed painfully. Her eyes reddened slightly as she looked up, about to question him, but the words caught in her throat and changed.

“What’s wrong?”

The man lowered his eyes, noticing her reddened eyes, and his tone softened instinctively.

“Nothing.”

His large, rough palm wrapped around her soft hand, the dry, calloused skin making hers tingle and itch.

They walked side by side—one tall, one short—with a stark difference in build, yet strangely harmonious.

—

A few steps from the main hall, Xie Yi released her hand and resumed his usual indifferent demeanor, as if the earlier intimacy had never happened.

Shen Shuyao tilted her head to look at him and smiled inwardly. He was quite amusing—worried that the elders might see them holding hands, yet he hadn't seemed shy when he first took her hand.

A table laden with dishes awaited them. Shen Zheng’an and Lady Wang had been waiting a while, and upon their arrival, their smiles grew warmer.

Shen Zheng’an first praised Shen Shuyao, saying she had never cooked once in over ten years at home, but less than a year after marrying into the Xie family, she had managed to prepare such a meal. Truly thoughtful.

Shen Shuyao felt guilty and glanced at Xie Yi, only to catch his assessing gaze. She gave a nervous laugh and quickly lowered her eyes, her heart suddenly pounding.

To stop her father from continuing, she hastily picked up some food to occupy him and poured him a cup of wine, urging, “Don’t talk so much, Father. Just drink.”

After a cup of wine, Shen Zheng’an happily raised his glass. “I’ll drink two cups with Lord Xie.”

Shen Shuyao poured wine for Xie Yi and briefly met his deep, inscrutable gaze.

From the moment they returned to the room, something had felt off, and now it was even stronger. She was certain Xie Yi was troubled—and it had something to do with her.

She lowered her head to eat, trying to make herself less noticeable, fearing her father might mention her again. She glanced at Lady Wang, who also looked at her. The mother and daughter exchanged a silent understanding, both knowing but saying nothing.

Xie Yi spoke little. Most of the time, it was Shen Zheng’an talking. Xie Yi listened, occasionally nodding in agreement, quieter than anyone.

After several rounds of drinking, Shen Zheng’an was quite tipsy. He belched contentedly and slurred, “Yes, Yao Yao’s cooking is really good.” He looked proud as he patted Xie Yi on the shoulder. “Lord Xie, don’t you agree?”

Shen Shuyao swallowed hard and watched her father; he was drunk and babbling nonsense.

“Father, you’re drunk. Please go rest.”

She blinked repeatedly at Lady Wang until she realized and said, “Kuiwu, help the master back.”

Shen Zheng’an’s personal attendant entered and helped him up. Shen Zheng’an, dizzy and uncooperative, was reluctantly accompanied back by Lady Wang.

“Yao Yao, you two eat.”

She responded with a hum, and Lady Wang soon left with the drunken Shen Zheng’an. Only the two of them remained in the hall, the room falling completely silent. The atmosphere grew tense and awkward.

The previously silent man suddenly spoke: “Your father is right. The lady’s cooking is truly good.”

Shen Shuyao exhaled softly, relief lasting only moments before Xie Yi continued, “But the flavor is much like yesterday’s dinner. Even this ginger duck seems different from your usual cooking.”

Her heart clenched tightly. Swallowing hard, her throat tightened. “Perhaps the environment is different, so the taste changed. What, is it not good?”

She asked cautiously, leaning forward with her clear, sharp eyes fixed on him, afraid he might discover something.

Xie Yi merely said flatly, “Is that so? I thought it wasn’t made by you.”

His words struck her cold. Her red lips parted, and she stammered, “How could that be?”

She averted her face, panicking for the first time after lying so long. Lowering her eyelids, she remained silent, unaware of the sinister look in his eyes.

Her anxiety persisted during the carriage ride home.

She leaned against the wooden panel, her eyes darting around. The interior was dim; no one could see anyone else, only temperature and breath could reveal direction.

Unbeknownst to her, just because she couldn’t see him didn’t mean Xie Yi couldn’t see her. After watching his direction for a while, his cold voice sounded calmly.

“Why are you staring at me like that, madam? Do you have something to say?”

The darkness surrounded them, yet he knew she was looking at him. Did he have ghostly eyes?

After being startled several times tonight, Shen Shuyao’s panic deepened. She turned away stubbornly and said, “Nothing to say. Just tired. I wanted to ask if you’re tired.”

Xie Yi sighed in the dark. She was truly stubborn, never telling the truth despite several probes. Why?

After a moment of silence, his low voice said, “Forget it.”

If she wouldn’t say it, he would find out sooner or later.

Her chest felt heavy, as if a stone sat on it, too difficult to relieve for now.

—

Xie Yi rested at home for three days. Once his injuries had mostly healed, he returned to court.

Shen Shuyao watched his departing figure and finally breathed a sigh of relief. During those days, his eyes had always been on her, with looks of scrutiny and probing, or inexplicable meanings, each glance unsettling her.

Now that he was out, she felt comfortable.

From those three days, she realized a truth: men were better off going out. Staying home, eyeing each other all day, made both uncomfortable. Now it was good—he was busy with affairs, and she could relax.

Taking advantage of his absence, Shen Shuyao urged Cuihua to finish making summer clothes. By the time Xie Yi returned to the Orchid Garden that afternoon, the last stitch was done.

She held up the garment, swinging it with satisfaction. Seeing him enter, she lifted her face and smiled brightly. “I just finished it. Try it on.”

The air outside was heavy and hot. The man’s earlobes reddened slightly as he stepped in, sweat tracing down his side profile along a sharp jawline to the enticing chest beneath.

His Adam’s apple moved as he looked up at her, pulling at his lips.

“Madam, you’ve worked hard.”

He took her hand and looked at her fingertips. “I heard sewing can hurt your hands. Are yours injured?”

“Sometimes.”

Shen Shuyao felt unease and tried to pull her hand away, but Xie Yi held firm; she couldn’t move.

“It’s good you’re not hurt. The buttons on my court robe are loose. Help me sew them.”

Before entering, he had tugged hard, loosening the buttons.