Chapter 12: Ancient Customs

Jiang Xiaoyu lunged forward and grabbed hold of “Dongfang.” Even without his glasses and with his vision blurred, he recognized her at such close range.

“I knew it! You were hiding in another room, using Bluetooth to control the glasses and talk to me—now that I’ve caught you red-handed, let’s see how you explain this!”

Dongfang turned beet red and shrieked, “Qinghe—Qinghe! Pull this idiot away, he’s lost his mind again!”

On the side couch, Qinghe, dressed in thin undergarments, scrambled up in a panic. She threw herself onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Jiang Xiaoyu’s waist from behind, pulling him back while coaxing him in a soft voice: “Young Master… Young Master… let this servant take you out to play with some water and soak your feet, shall we?”

A chill ran down Jiang Xiaoyu’s spine.

“My god… in the middle of the night, who soaks their feet?”

He shuddered, which surprisingly cleared his head quite a bit. He looked down at his clothes and felt the soft couch beneath him, then he abruptly looked up and pointed at the exasperated “Dongfang.”

“Give me an explanation!”

Dongfang sneered, “Trying to consummate our marriage, are you? I’ll tell you straight: absolutely impossible! Xiao Junlin, I married you only to find a way to break the Heart Demon Illusion, not to be a real wife to you.”

Jiang Xiaoyu let out an “Ah.”

“You were taught to say that by your mother, weren’t you? Since you’ve made your stance clear, I’ll state mine—I’ll have the manor take in a few concubines for you; don’t set your sights on me. Otherwise, don’t blame me if I decide to teach you all a lesson.”

Jiang Xiaoyu stood dumbfounded, taking a long time to reply.

“You’re crazy. Still acting, are you? Once I find your cameras, I’m going to report this to the school administration! I’m not someone you can just bully!”

With that, he hopped off the bed and, squinting, began frantically rummaging through the antique-style room.

Qinghe and the woman on the bed exchanged a weary, bitter look.

“He goes mad every night!”

Dongfang sighed, “Ever since I left the mountain, the people seeking my help to dispel evil have come in waves, non-stop from dawn till dusk. It was like this at my parents’ home, and it’s like this at my husband’s house. At night, when I finally want a moment of rest, I have to coax this idiot Young Master to sleep. And just when I’m about to sleep, here he is, awake again.”

Having said this, she gritted her teeth, flipped her slender hand, and a talisman appeared between her two fingers.

It was a thin piece of paper, glowing with a faint golden light. Under the candlelight, one could see densely packed runes slowly flowing across its surface.

Seeing the talisman, Qinghe felt a pang of pity and gently tugged on her mistress’s sleeve. “Miss, the Young Master is easily coaxed. Could you give this servant a moment?”

The woman on the bed turned her head in surprise. “Qinghe, you are my personal maid first, and his concubine second. Isn’t it putting the cart before the horse to be so partial to him?”

Despite the words, she tucked the talisman away.

Tears welled up in Qinghe’s eyes as she hurriedly explained, “Miss! That’s not what I meant! This servant just means… this servant has a way to get the Young Master out of the bedroom so you can rest in peace.”

At this, she shifted uncomfortably and whispered, “Miss hasn’t even consummated the marriage with the Young Master yet—what kind of ‘concubine’ would I even be?”

Dongfang looked at Qinghe deeply and said slowly, “Qinghe, those of us who cultivate the Dao value the concept of destiny. Xiao Junlin and I have no marital destiny. As for you… sigh… very well, go ahead and coax him.”

Qinghe didn’t think much of it. She bowed and hurried toward Jiang Xiaoyu, who was still rummaging through the western part of the room.

Qinghe reached Jiang Xiaoyu’s side, sniffed, and put on a bright, smiling face. She gently reached out to support his arm and whispered softly, “Young Master, what are you looking for?”

Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t even look up.

“Don’t play dumb! Your cameras…”

“This servant doesn’t understand what you’re talking about, Young Master.” Qinghe walked around to face him, tilting her head to look at him. “But this servant knows of something that will certainly interest you.”

Jiang Xiaoyu stopped his search.

“What?”

Qinghe covered her mouth and giggled.

“During the day, there was one candied hawthorn left from the one the Young Master and I went out to buy.”

Jiang Xiaoyu rubbed his forehead and clicked his tongue. He looked at the fawning maid before him and pointed at the “Dongfang” on the bed. “Classmate, stop with the lies. You’re just doing your job, and I don’t want to speak ill of you—after all, she’s the mastermind.”

Qinghe’s mouth fell open in a wide “Ah.” She didn’t fully understand the words, but she caught the gist that he was complaining about her mistress. Given her mistress’s explosive temper, this was going to be trouble!

Qinghe clamped a hand over Jiang Xiaoyu’s mouth and dragged him toward the door. “Young Master! Please, stop! This servant will take you to get the candied hawthorn, and some osmanthus cake, too, okay?”

Seeing her weeping in anxiety, Jiang Xiaoyu stood rooted to the spot.

Just as he was about to say something, his gaze drifted past Qinghe’s head, through the carved latticework of the window, and caught sight of a bright, full moon in the night sky.

Jiang Xiaoyu felt a rush of blood to his head; a tingling numbness flooded his entire body.

He pushed Qinghe’s hand away, slowly walked toward the doorway, and flung the door open. He rushed into the courtyard like a madman, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Watching as the lights in the manor began to flick on one by one, Dongfang kicked her blanket aside and vanished in a flash, appearing in the courtyard.

With a flick of her finger, the talisman appeared between her fingers once more. She whipped it toward Jiang Xiaoyu. The talisman transformed into a stream of light, flying straight toward him.