Chapter 43: Ah Zhao Gazes at Him with Tender Affection

There was still light outside the courtyard.

But inside the room, it was pitch dark.

A faint blend of sandalwood and musty scent filled the air, not entirely unpleasant.

Chu Mu entered and lit a candle; instantly, the entire room was illuminated.

He began to carefully examine the chamber.

It was small, with only the simplest of furnishings.

Just a table and two chairs.

Farther in, there was a washing stand and an old dressing table.

Deeper yet stood the bed where he had awoken that morning.

Beside the bed rested a wooden chest.

And that was all.

He had once visited Lin Jiaojiao’s bedchamber to check on her during her illness.

Lin Jiaojiao’s courtyard was elegantly arranged, adorned with gold, silver, jade, rare coral, and ornate screens.

Yet this courtyard, called the Eastern Wing, where A’Zhao resided, was utterly bare.

It was less comfortable than even the servants’ quarters.

Lin Jiaojiao, merely a guest in the General’s Mansion, enjoyed the finest in food, clothing, and daily use.

Guilt weighed heavier on Chu Mu’s heart.

Just then, footsteps sounded from outside.

An impatient voice called, “Madam is to dine. How unlucky for me—it’s always me bringing the meals to this desolate, cold courtyard. It’s even colder inside.”

The clatter of bowls and chopsticks echoed through the room, betraying the bearer’s annoyance.

Chu Mu emerged.

The young maid didn’t spare him a glance, merely snorted, ignored all courtesy, and left with the food box, still fuming.

Chu Mu’s brows drew together as he looked at the meal set upon the table.

A bowl of rice porridge, a dish of pickled vegetables, and two coarse grain cakes.

He sat properly before the table.

“So this is what A’Zhao eats every day?”

Looking at her usual supper, he recalled the swill and moldy buns the old servant brought her.

He felt even more disturbed.

A’Zhao had grown up in luxury—when had she ever suffered such indignities?

When they married, he had sworn to never let her down, never let her endure the slightest hardship.

Yet now, all her grievances seemed to stem from him.

Fortunately, he still had a chance to make amends.

This must be the best meal A’Zhao had had in these two years.

At least these dishes looked edible.

Though the side dish was blackened, at least it didn’t reek. Chu Mu put some into his mouth.

His face froze.

So salty!

Was this a dish or pure salt?

He hurriedly took a bite of the coarse cake.

Bitterness spread instantly in his mouth.

The cake was both bitter and astringent, scratching his throat as it went down.

It was nearly impossible to swallow.

A moment ago, he thought this was a normal meal—how was it any different from the swill and moldy buns the old woman brought?

Both were inedible.

How had A’Zhao managed to choke this down, stifling her hunger with food unfit for humans?

Chu Mu forced himself to take another bite and swallow. If A’Zhao could eat it to stave off hunger, so could he.

The more he ate, the more bitterness and resentment clogged his chest, as if someone had gripped his heart.

Before long, his eyes began to redden.

He picked up the rice porridge and took a sip.

Crunch.

There were stones in it, grating against his teeth.

He forced himself not to spit out the rice laced with gravel but swallowed it down.

No wonder A’Zhao’s body was so weak.

Looking at his own slender, exposed wrist, he wondered how much suffering and hardship his A’Zhao had endured right under his nose.

Guilt surged through him like a tide, threatening to drown him.

His neglect had forced A’Zhao into such misery, emboldening the servants to treat her so poorly.

At the same time, a nameless fury rose in his chest.

A’Zhao was still his wife.

How dared they treat her so!

Meanwhile, Shen Zhao, who was also dining, ate heartily.

But as she set down her chopsticks, full and content, she remembered the suffering of her current body and the damp, cold bedchamber.

Though she was angry at that blockhead, she couldn’t let her own body suffer for it.

She instructed an attendant, “Go to the Eastern Wing and invite Madam here.”

After a moment’s thought, she added, “Tell the main kitchen to prepare a nourishing tonic for the blood and a few tasty side dishes. Bring some fresh, seasonal fruits as well.”

As Chu Mu lay on the hard bed, experiencing Shen Zhao’s hardships, a knock came at the door.

“Madam, the General requests your presence in the main residence.”

Joy and shame surged in Chu Mu’s heart.

His A’Zhao couldn’t bear to see him suffer what she had endured.

She couldn’t let him be tormented.

But for two years, he had neglected her—he truly deserved to die!

He hastily threw on his clothes and shoes, and rushed out the door like the wind.

He couldn’t let A’Zhao wait, couldn’t let her worry for him.

When Chu Mu arrived at his own courtyard, panting, his eyes grew hot.

His A’Zhao sat at the dining table, gazing at him with loving eyes.

The food on the table was untouched.

She must be waiting to dine with him.

A flush crept over his face.

He knew it—A’Zhao cared for him and felt sorry for him, certain he couldn’t eat that miserable meal and had waited to dine together.

His A’Zhao was as attentive as ever.

This thought put a spring in his step as he walked over to Shen Zhao.

Shen Zhao frowned at the disheveled Chu Mu approaching her.

Her gaze was grave.

It had been an entire day.

Not once had Chu Mu worn his dress properly.

Was he trying to bring disgrace upon her?

The first time she’d met him, in the Old Madam’s quarters, his clothes were untidy—she’d thought the Old Madam had tormented him.

The next time, he was disheveled again—she’d assumed he’d just been punished.

And now, he looked even worse.

A troubling thought crossed her mind.

Could it be that this fool simply didn’t know how to wear women’s clothing?

Chu Mu, seeing A’Zhao’s unwavering gaze upon him, felt warmth swelling in his heart, his face flushing deeper.

Of course, his A’Zhao’s eyes were filled with nothing but him.

After such a short separation, her gaze seemed glued to him, reluctant to look away even for a moment.

He naturally sat beside Shen Zhao, shy and bashful. “Hus—husband, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Were you waiting to dine with me?”

He wanted to call her “Madam,” but now could only call her “Husband.”

Shen Zhao wanted to open up Chu Mu’s head to see what was inside.

What a question.

Was he blind?

Couldn’t he see there was only one set of chopsticks and bowl?

“I’ve already eaten. Please, Madam, eat while it’s hot,” Shen Zhao said patiently.

There was no other way. If he wanted to spare his own body more suffering in the General’s Mansion, he had to show he valued himself.

The servants always judged by appearances.

Chu Mu felt a pang of disappointment.

So A’Zhao hadn’t waited for him on purpose.

He picked up his chopsticks and, under Shen Zhao’s gaze, began to eat.

A’Zhao was really too good to him.

“Hic!” Chu Mu looked at the half bowl of nourishing soup Shen Zhao held up and couldn’t help but hiccup.

He really couldn’t eat another bite!

He’d shared two meals with A’Zhao already.

She seemed afraid he wouldn’t get enough to eat, urging him to have more and stuffing food into his mouth.

Though he was deeply moved, her body truly couldn’t endure so much.

“Husband… I’m full… hic…”

Hearing the series of hiccups, Shen Zhao quietly set down her bowl.

Take it slow—no need to eat oneself sick in one meal.

Her body needed nourishment, but not to the point that her stomach would burst.

“Now that you’re full, it’s time for business. Come, Madam, return to the room with me.”

At these suggestive words, everyone in the room looked up toward the General.