CHAPTER 2
1583 Words
CHAPTER TWO
~♡~
The next morning, Aoshu left his room earlier than usual.
He had barely slept, his mind stuck on yesterday's dinner. His wife-who had spent months acting like he didn't exist, had suddenly cooked for him. She even touched and smiled at him.
It doesn't make any sense. He walked through the quiet halls, wanting to avoid the dining room entirely. Unfortunately, just as he stepped into the courtyard, a figure darted in infront of him.
"Good morning!"
Aoshu stopped so fast he nearly stumbled.
Yan Ling stood there, slightly out of breath, her hair a bit messy like she had rushed to get ready. In her hands was a small wooden box tied neatly with a cloth.
She thrust it towards him. "For you!"
Aoshu stared at the box like it might bite him.
"Its lunch." She explained, still smiling. "In case you get hungry during training."
He didn't move, and her smile wavered. "Just take it."
Slowly, he reached out and took the box. "Thank you." He said stiffly.
Yan Ling nodded, feeling satisfied, then turned and walked away before he could say anything else.
Aoshu stood frozen for a long moment.
At the training ground, his soldiers noticed the lunchbox immediately.
"General, what's that?" One of them asked.
Aoshu ignored him.
But during their midday break, curiosity got the better of him. He sat apart from the others, opened the box and peered inside.
Dumplings?
Or at least something that was supposed to be dumplings. They were lumpy, some torn open, others so thick they look like little dough boulders.
One of his lieutenants, a bold young man plopped down beside him. "Did your wife make those?" He asked. "They look...sturdy."
Aoshu shot him a glare. Gritting his teeth, he took a bite. The filling was bland, the dough undercooked in some spots and rock-hard in others.
The lieutenant whistled. "Well? How is it?"
Aoshu forced himself to swallow. "... Edible."
His men burst out laughing.
That night, Aoshu found himself walking past the kitchen on his way to his study. But then he heard noises, banging, muttering, and the sound of something being thrown into a bowl with more force than necessary.
He paused, taking a peek inside.
Yan Ling stood at the counter, covered in flour. Her sleeves rolled up, and her face was scrunched in frustration as she wrestled with a lump of dough.
"Why won't you cooperate?!" She hissed, punching the dough.
She looked nothing like the proper noblewoman he had married. This version of his wife was red-faced and determined.
For the first time in months, the corner of his mouth twitched. Almost like he wanted to smilesmile.
Then she grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at the dough like it had personally offended her.
Aoshu quickly stepped back before she could see him.
★
Yan Ling was done with cooking after it turned out to be a total disaster.
After that, she decided to try a different approach.
She marched to the training grounds, dressed in borrowed practice clothes that were too big for herher. The sleeves kept sliding down her arms, and the pants were tied so tight they looked ridiculous. But she didn't care.
When she arrived, the soldiers stopped mid swing, staring at her like she had grown a second head.
Aoshu, who had been demonstrating a sword form, froze when he saw her.
"Wife," he said slowly. "What are you doing here?"
Yan Ling put her hands on her hips. "I want to train with you."
Silence.
Ten, stifled laughter from the soldiers. Aoshu's eye twitched. "...No."
"Why not?"
"This isn't a place for-"
"A woman?"
Aoshu looked pained. "Because you've never held a sword in your life."
"So teach me."
The soldiers were openly grinning now. Aoshu shot them a glare, and they quickly pretended to be busy.
He turned back to Yan Ling. "Go home."
"I'm not leaving."
They stared at each other, neither backing down.
Finally, Aoshu sighed. "Fine."
He grabbed a wooden practice sword and tossed it to her. She fumbled, barely catching it before it hit the ground.
"Basic stance first."
Yan Ling copied his posture but her grip was wrong, her feet too close together. Aoshu stepped forward to adjust her, his hands hesitating before lightly correcting her arms.
"Like this." He muttered.
He moved through a simple sequence, slow enough for her to follow. Yan Ling tried to mimic him.
On her third attempt, she stumbled.
Aoshu moved fast, catching her before she face-planted into the dirt. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright against him.
For a second, they were pressed close. Close enough that Yan Ling could see the faint scar on his jaw, the way his dark eyes flickered with something she couldn't name.
Yan Ling panicked, she jerked her elbow back.
*Thwack*
Aoshu grunted, instantly releasing her.
Yan Ling gasped when she turned around. A dark bruise is already forming under his left eye.
The training grounds went dead silence.
"Oh no..." Yan Ling whispered.
Aoshu touched his face and winced. Yan Ling bit her lip. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean..." Then, she lets out a nervous laugh.
The soldiers looked like they were trying to decide whether to run or just pretend they didn't see anything.
Yan Ling clapped her hand over her mouth.
[INTIMACY LEVEL: -4/100]
Yan Ling's eyes widen. 'What! It went down again?!'
Aoshu turned on his hill and walked away without saying a word.
Behind her, the soldiers erupted into whispers.
This is not how she had planned!
★
When night came, the dinner was painfully quiet. Aoshu sat across her. Yan Ling keep sneaking glances at his black eye, feeling guilty.
She cleared her throat. "Eherm! Does it hurt?"
Aoshu didn't look up from his rice. "No."
He's obviously lying, which made her feel even more guilty.
She poked her food. "I'm really sorry."
...
"You have terrible reflexes."
Yan Ling blinked. Is that an insult or a joke?
Aoshu stood, "I have work." then he left.
Yan Ling slumped in her chair. At least he didn't yell at her.
★★★
Yan Ling can't sleep. Everytime she close her eyes, she saw Aoshu's bruised face and the way he stiffened when she laughed. She sat up, scowling at the ceiling.
She's not some clumsy fool, and she didn't mean to elbow him. Sure laughing was bad in that kind of situation but it was just nerves!
...Okay maybe she is a clumsy fool.
With a groan, she dragged herself out of the bed. She walked to her medicine cabinet and grabbed a small jar of healing salve. The label read, swift recovery for bruises and wounds.
Now she just have to sneak into Aoshu's room without waking him up.
Aoshu is not sleeping.
He lay perfectly still when the soft creak of his door announced that someone is here. His hand instinctively went to the dagger under his pillow, until he caught the smell of jasmine.
Yan Ling.
He closed his eyes quickly and pretended to sleep.
Light footsteps approached his bed. The bed dipped slightly as Yan Ling perched on the edge.
Aoshu controlled his breath, then, cold fingers touched him.
He barely stopped himself from flinching. The salve is cool against his bruise, her touch surprisingly gentle as she smooth it over his skin.
"Are you awake?..."
Aoshu didn't reply. She exhaled and continued applying the medicine. "Thank goodness." she muttered. "Because if you are, I would die of embarrassment."
Her thumb brushed his cheekbone, lingering a second too long.
"I really didn't mean to hurt you." she whispered.
Aoshu's chest tightened. He almost answered-almost told her it was fine, that he'd had worse. But speaking now would ruin whatever this was, so he stayed silent.
Yan Ling sighed, pulling her hand back. She should leave.
But the stress of the day-the cooking disasters, the sparring humiliation, the system's relentless pressure-weighed on her like a boulder. Her eyelids drooped.
'Just a minute,' she thought, leaning back against the headboard. 'I'll rest a little, then go...'
Aoshu cracked an eye open just in time to see her slump sideways-directly onto his pillow.
She curled up like a cat, her breathing evening out within seconds.
He stared.
This isn't happening.
But the warm weight beside him was undeniably real.
Carefully, he turned his head. Yan Ling's face was inches from his, her lips slightly parted, her brow furrowed even in sleep. A strand of hair stuck to her cheek.
Aoshu's fingers twitched. He should wake her. Should carry her back to her room. Should-
She mumbled something incoherent and burrowed deeper into the blankets.
Aoshu exhaled through his nose.
Fine.
He will let her stay. Just until dawn.
★
Yan Ling woke to sunlight in her eyes.
She blinked, disoriented. This wasn't her room. The pillow smelled like sandalwood and-
'Oh no.'
She bolted upright, heart pounding. Aoshu lay beside her, still as death, his arms crossed over his chest like a soldier in a coffin.
She scrambled up, nearly tripping over the blanket in her haste. Aoshu didn't move, but she wasn't taking chances. She fled without looking back.
The second the door shut, Aoshu opened his eyes.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair. On the nightstand, the salve jar sat uncapped, a faint herbal scent lingering in the air.
His fingers brushed the spot where she'd slept. The sheets were still warm.
- Writer
