Chapter 16 Jiang Chengyan Leaves Without Looking Back

This was the first time anyone had pulled his ear, and she was hardly gentle about it; Jiang Chengyan felt as though his ear was about to be yanked clean off.

“You’ll stay here for two days. The morning after tomorrow, I’ll come to marry you,” Jiang Chengyan, uncharacteristically patient, explained to her.

Hearing his words, Bai Yan abruptly let go of his ear. The head that had been pressed against his cheek drew back as well, and she quietly lay atop his back.

Jiang Chengyan noticed something different about her, but said nothing more. Together with Li Chunxiang, he carried Bai Yan into the eastern room.

Not until he set her down on the kang in the eastern room did he see her little face set in a serious expression; she wouldn’t even look at him.

Sensing his gaze, Bai Yan immediately hugged her small bundle and turned away, presenting him only with her back and the back of her head.

“The day after tomorrow we’ll be wed. Since you can’t be married out from your own family, I’ve arranged for you to recognize Madam Li as your godmother. I’ll come for you first thing in the morning.” Jiang Chengyan, looking at her small figure sitting there, hesitated a moment before speaking.

Though she was not quite human, every necessary custom and rite, Jiang Chengyan would see through without neglect. It was not a matter of convenience, but of principle.

Their wedding, too, deserved to be open and honorable.

“Oh.” Bai Yan did not turn around, still sitting with her back to him.

It was getting late, and Jiang Chengyan could no longer justify lingering. He reached out to ruffle Bai Yan’s head, then turned and walked out.

No sooner had he left than Bai Yan scurried to the window.

“The window’s been papered over so thickly, you can’t see a thing,” Madam Li stood below, her expression impassive as she looked up at Bai Yan.

Bai Yan turned away, dejectedly hugging her small bundle as she sat atop the kang. She only glanced briefly at Madam Li before withdrawing into silence once again.

“Looks like it’ll rain tonight. Go to bed early,” Madam Li said, blowing out the candle for Bai Yan before closing the door and heading to the western room.

Bai Yan was not very good at reading the sky, but she clearly sensed the dampness in the air. Tonight, it would indeed rain.

Sure enough, barely half an hour after Jiang Chengyan left, a torrential downpour swept in.

Madam Li was a widow. Her husband had died years ago, and her only son had been conscripted, rumored to have died on the battlefield.

She was a light sleeper by nature, and now, with the rain pounding outside, she found it hard to drift off.

Just then, she heard a creak—the door to her room slowly pushed open.

In the darkness, she peered over and saw Jiang Chengyan’s little bride standing pitifully by the kang, clutching her bundle.

“Godmother, I’m scared,” the girl called out in a soft, sticky voice.

“Want to sleep with me?” Li Chunxiang sat up, looking at the pitiful child.

“Mm.” Bai Yan nodded, then took off her shoes and crawled into bed.

The kang was warm from the fire, though the quilt was a bit prickly. Still, mindful of her next steps, she obediently lay down beside Li Chunxiang.

Through it all, Li Chunxiang accepted her presence with calm indifference.

Perhaps because she now had company, Madam Li soon fell asleep.

Once the sound of steady breathing filled the room, Bai Yan quietly hugged her bundle, slipped out of bed, put on her shoes, and crept outside toward the wall.