Before Cui Wan's fear had subsided, another sound seized her attention.
It was a "rumble... rumble..." coming from the doorway, slow and labored, each turn accompanied by the rough scrape of wood against the floor. The sound was uneven, breaking off and starting again; every short distance brought a brief pause, as though each advance exhausted an immense amount of strength and will.
That sound... a wheelchair?
Cui Wan's heart clenched tighter. Second Young Master Chu had come... it really was him. He really had come in a wheelchair.
The rumbling was magnified endlessly in the silent room, carrying an undeniable, heavy, stifling pressure. It drew closer and closer, clearer and clearer... until it stopped abruptly a short distance in front of her.
The room was deathly silent, save for her own rapid breathing and drumbeat of a heart. The bridal veil blocked her sight; all she could see was a deep expanse of red, and through the fabric she dimly sensed a presence close at hand, carrying an icy chill.
She was so tense that her whole body stiffened, even her fingertips going numb. What would he do? What would he say?
Without a word, without even a warning, a finely jointed yet unusually cold hand suddenly reached over, roughly seized a corner of the red veil on her head, and yanked it down!
"Riiip-"
The sound of fabric being wrenched by brute force came with a sharp stab of pain on her head! The veil had caught not only on her heavy jeweled ornaments but also on several strands of hair at her temple, tearing them out as it was dragged off! Cui Wan gave a muffled cry of pain, tears instantly welling up and blurring her newly restored vision.
The red before her eyes vanished abruptly, replaced by a face that burst unexpectedly into view, light and shadow shifting across it in the flickering candlelight.
The man sat in a wheelchair, wearing wedding robes the same color as hers. Yet the red brought him not the slightest festive air; instead, it made his face look unnaturally pale, his lips almost bloodless. His hair was bound with a jade hairpin, a few unruly strands hanging over his forehead, lending him a little more... dejection.
His features were undoubtedly exceptional, his brows sharp as blades and his nose high and straight. Even his poor complexion could not conceal the handsome contours of his face. But those eyes... those eyes that had once been clear and bright in Cui Wan's memory, filled with gentle goodwill, were now like deep ice steeped in a freezing pool-sharp, sinister, filled with undisguised scrutiny, mockery, and a suppressed fury that bordered on destructive. Deep within them lay weariness and desolation too thick to dissolve.
The wheelchair... the pallor... those eyes...
Fragments of memory and her encounter in the darkness overlapped in an instant, fitting together!
Cui Wan sucked in a sharp breath, her body shrinking back uncontrollably again until she nearly fell off the bed. It... it was him! The man who had lain badly injured in the darkness just now, who had been so violent-tempered, shoved her away so fiercely, and threatened her!
He... he was actually Chu Moqi?!
The "bad man" she had just tried to help, then desperately fled from, was her new husband?!
The shock of that realization made her head spin even more than his rough treatment had. An absurd, terrifying chill instantly soaked through every limb and bone.
At that moment, Chu Moqi was also coldly sizing up the young girl who had been forced to become his wife.
Even the overly mature rouge could not hide the childish contours lingering in that little face. Her skin was fair, her lashes long and thick, trembling slightly now with glistening tears clinging to them.
Her almond-shaped eyes were round with terror, clear to their depths, filled with helplessness, fear, and... the terror that had abruptly intensified when she recognized him.
Hah.
The nameless, vicious fire in Chu Moqi's heart burned hotter.
Afraid?
If she was so afraid, why had she agreed to marry him in the first place? However anxious his mother and sister-in-law were, however much they wanted to thrust someone upon him, they would never stoop to abducting an innocent woman and forcing her into concubinage.
This marriage had surely been agreed upon willingly by both sides. For the daughter of a disgraced official to climb into marriage with a marquis's household-even if he, Chu Moqi, was now crippled and useless-wasn't her Cui Family still reaching above its station?
Since she coveted this "higher branch," who was this pitiful, frightened-rabbit act for now? Did she think he would soften, or did she think he was frightening, terrifying?
A tangled surge of self-loathing, anger, and offense rose in his heart. He abruptly turned his wheelchair, its rough wooden wheels grinding over the floor with a grating noise, and pressed closer to the bedside again until their knees nearly touched.
Cui Wan trembled again in fright, her entire body rigid, even her breath held.
Chu Moqi reached out, his icy fingertips clamping hard around Cui Wan's small chin with irresistible force, making her lift her face to meet his cold, mocking gaze.
His voice was quiet, but every word was tempered in ice, striking clearly against Cui Wan's ears:
"Since you're afraid..." He paused deliberately, his lips curling into a cold smile devoid of warmth, almost cruel. "Why climb to a higher branch?"
Cui Wan did not understand the complicated meaning behind his scornful words, "higher branch."
To her, those things called fame, fortune, family standing, and currying favor were far too distant and vague.
She knew only that if she agreed to this marriage, her mother would have medicine for her illness and would be able to live. And in the deepest part of her heart, she harbored a tiny fixation that even she dared not examine too closely-she simply... simply liked, so very, very much, the young general who had once used his silver spear to carve out a safe little haven for her amid the crowd.
But the person before her was utterly unlike the youth in her memory. His coldness, roughness, and disgust were like so many knives, shredding those faint, hopeful thoughts of hers.
She felt only wronged. Boundless grievance surged up, mingling with fear and the pain in her chin. Great tears rolled down, falling onto Chu Moqi's hand gripping her chin and onto her own bright red wedding robes.
Yet in Chu Moqi's eyes, that sight only fueled his disgust and anger. So young, yet willing to marry a useless man like him-what else could she be after besides the marquis's household's standing and whatever wealth and prestige might remain? Could she actually have feelings for him? Ridiculous!
What enraged him still more was what had happened in the garden... the servants had been frantically searching for the "second madam." Coupled with that cry for help, it left him almost certain that the "little maid" who had stumbled upon his wretched state, tried to reach out and "help," then shouted and brought everyone running was this very Cui Wan!
Why had she been there then? Had she been trying to escape? Trying to flee a cripple like him amid the confusion of their wedding night?
That suspicion made the vicious fire in his heart burn hotter. He had originally hidden alone in the secluded rear garden merely because he resisted this marriage forced upon him and wanted some peace. Who could have known the garden path would be uneven? His wheelchair had overturned, and he had fallen miserably to the ground, scraping his hands. Stubborn by nature, he refused to let anyone see him in this useless state, unable even to control his wheelchair, so he had gritted his teeth and struggled alone, trying to climb back into it with the strength of his arms.
But with no strength at all in his legs, how long could his arms alone support him? After struggling for four hours and exhausting himself, he could only lie futilely on the ground, barely able to move.
Just when he least wanted anyone to see him, she had appeared. Not only had she seen him at his most wretched, she had brought every servant in the household!
He would never forget how the bright lanterns had left him nowhere to hide, lying on the ground like a dead dog, before Yan Qin, the guard who had rushed over at the news, picked him up like a lump of rotten flesh and settled him back into his wheelchair.
Then he had been "escorted" back, forcibly dressed in this ridiculous groom's attire, and finally, under his mother's tearful pleas, pushed into this bridal chamber he resisted with every fiber of his being.
All of it was Cui Wan's fault! All because of her!
Now, looking at her trembling like a pear blossom drenched in rain, Chu Moqi felt not the slightest pity. Instead, she seemed even more of an eyesore, making him angrier. Who was this pitiful act for?
Cui Wan's chin ached terribly in his grip. Frightened and panicked, her mind went blank. She remembered her mother's instruction to "serve your husband well." She did not know how to "serve" him. Acting only on instinct, she used all her strength to suppress the sobs in her throat and timidly, with the utmost care, ventured to call:
"...H-husband..."
The word emerged faint and weak, yet it was like an exceedingly fine needle, unexpectedly pricking Chu Moqi.
Husband?
The fingers gripping her chin trembled almost imperceptibly. An utterly unfamiliar sensation, mingled with absurdity and a trace of something strange he could not name, suddenly rose from the depths of his heart. No one had ever... addressed him that way, in that tone.
But the feeling lasted only an instant before stronger anger and wariness replaced it. So she really was a schemer! So young, yet already knowing how to feign weakness.
As though burned, he abruptly flung his hand away with such force that the unprepared Cui Wan cried out and toppled sideways onto the brocade-covered bed, the jeweled ornaments on her head swaying in renewed disarray.
Dazed by the fall, Cui Wan stared blankly at him through tear-filled eyes, more frightened still.
Chu Moqi turned his wheelchair and looked at her coldly, his voice holding no warmth, only warning. "Since you chose to marry into this household, bear it yourself! Know your place. Don't entertain any thoughts you shouldn't, and don't expect a pleasant face from me!"
With that, he spared Cui Wan not another glance. As though even one more second there was unbearable, he turned his wheelchair hard, about to leave the room that made him feel so stifled.
He was leaving?
Cui Wan's mind went blank. Before she came, her aunt, Lady Li, had indeed taught her how to attend to her husband on their wedding night, how to consummate the marriage.
But now... her husband was leaving already? Wasn't he staying here? Then... what was she supposed to do?
Overwhelming bewilderment and an indescribable sense of loss seized Cui Wan. She was afraid of Chu Moqi staying and having to face his terrifying fury, yet she was also afraid of him simply leaving her alone in this strange, cold bridal chamber.
Driven by her tangled thoughts, almost unconsciously, just as Chu Moqi's wheelchair was about to turn away, Cui Wan timidly called again in that mosquito-faint voice, thick with tears:
"...Husband..."
The wheelchair stopped abruptly.
Chu Moqi did not turn around, but the chill radiating from him could almost freeze the air. His voice squeezed out between his teeth, carrying undisguised violence and menace:
"Just. You. Dare. Say. That. Again."
Cui Wan shuddered all over in fright and immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, stifling even her sobs. Only great tears remained, pouring down silently and soaking the brocade quilt beneath her.
Faced with her silent sobbing, Chu Moqi felt that inexplicable irritation grow heavier, as though something were blocking his chest, stifling him until he could barely breathe.
He did not want to look anymore, much less stay. He wheeled around sharply and rushed out without looking back. A tremendous bang followed as the door slammed shut, seemingly shaking the entire room.
Cui Wan remained frozen on the bed. Only after a long while did she crumple, as though all her strength had been drained away. Hugging her knees and burying her face in them, she finally let herself cry softly and helplessly.
He had left... he really had left...
How had he become like this? How had the warm, bright youth in her memory become so frightening, so... full of dislike for her?
Did Chu Moqi truly despise her? Did he think her status was too low, that she was unworthy of him? Was that why he would not even spare her another glance, why even being in the same room as her was unbearable?
Grievance, fear, bewilderment, and a faint thread of hurt intertwined, almost drowning Cui Wan.
After an unknown stretch of time, the door was gently pushed open, and two maids entered cautiously, carrying washing things and a change of nightclothes. Not daring to breathe loudly, they moved gently as they helped Cui Wan remove the heavy jeweled ornaments from her head, take off her elaborate wedding robes, and change into soft, comfortable nightclothes.
Throughout it all, Cui Wan let them do as they wished, but her tears never stopped.
When the maids had finished attending to her, they withdrew silently again, leaving Cui Wan alone with a roomful of red candles and silence.
She was so tired, exhausted to the utmost in both body and heart. Her eyes were swollen, red, and sore from crying, her head heavy and muddled. She slowly curled up beneath the cold bedding, her cheek against the soft pillow, tears still flowing without pause and soaking a patch of it.
As she cried and cried, her consciousness finally succumbed to utter exhaustion and gradually blurred. In the last moment before she sank into darkness, what flashed through her mind was still that pair of eyes-once clear, now filled with nothing but coldness and disgust.
Second Young Master Chu... do you really dislike Wanwan so much...?