Yu An’s tone just now struck Liu Huaixu as flippant—and the gesture even more so.
But to the onlookers—and to Cao Guan above all—it looked like flirting.
Wives flirting with each other drew nothing worse than a few blushes at their shamelessness. Nothing improper, really.
But Cao Guan was different. She couldn’t bear hearing Yu An speak to Liu Huaixu that way.
Her face crumpled with hurt at once. She reached out and tugged gently at Yu An’s sleeve, her voice turning coquettish. “Sister Yu~”
Yu An didn’t look at her. She shook the hand off.
“Miss Cao. Please conduct yourself with some dignity.”
The words reached Liu Huaixu’s ears, and her brow arched without her meaning it to.
A thread of uncertainty stirred in her. Was Yu An… putting on an act?
Act or not, the hand at her waist was unbearable. Liu Huaixu shifted awkwardly, trying to hint for Yu An to let go—people were watching! But Yu An showed no reaction at all, and she could only inch away bit by bit, trying to slide free.
Busy as she was, she completely missed Cao Guan’s reddening eyes—the girl glaring daggers at Liu Huaixu’s waist, one hand still knotted in Yu An’s sleeve, her tongue now running utterly unchecked.
“Sister Yu, you’re the one who said Liu Huaixu treats you badly—no meat to eat, not even a place on the warm kang.”
Yu An hadn’t expected such audacity—saying all of that out loud. Her arm dropped from Liu Huaixu’s waist at once, her gaze flying to the crowd, who were practically salivating for a show.
Cao Guan cared nothing for any of it, her words growing even less guarded, tears streaming as she wailed, “Sob… you said Liu Huaixu was like a block of wood—that she’d never warm your bed, never… mmph—”
At those words, Liu Huaixu’s expression froze degree by degree, and panic seized Yu An. She clapped a hand over Cao Guan’s mouth, terrified the girl would spew more filth and demolish the image she’d spent days building.
“Stop talking nonsense.” Yu An had released her, her expression gone dark. She didn’t fully understand this world’s ways yet, but people’s tongues were vicious. If those words spread, who knew how they’d gossip about her and Liu Huaixu afterward.
Liu Huaixu, too, was livid—furious that Yu An had said such things to Cao Guan. Her gaze on Yu An turned colder than usual, threaded with anger, and even the hand holding the meat began to tremble. She’d only wanted to buy the woman some meat after a long day’s work—and had stumbled into all of this.
She had held back, and held back again. With Cao Guan saying things like this, she truly couldn’t swallow it any longer.
“Mind your words, Sister Cao. A wife’s private affairs—knowing too much about them will do you no good.”
Yu An was a Alpha and feared no such gossip. Liu Huaixu was a Omega, but as Yu An’s wife, such talk would earn her a stretch of ridicule—not a ruined name.
Cao Guan was another matter entirely. An unwed Omega uttering such indecent things? The gossip would be merciless—finding a match after would be nearly impossible.
Cao Guan froze solid at the words. Her tears stopped mid-flow, her reddened rims brimming.
Remembering all the warnings her father had given her at home, a chill of fear crept through her.
She glanced into the crowd and spotted a small cluster pointing and whispering at her—furious, yet not daring to make a sound.
Yu An seized the moment. “Go on home. And don’t ever say things like that again.”
“Sister Yu…”
Yu An had seen how badly her words had frightened Cao Guan, and something in her ached.
To her, Cao Guan was just a teenage child—too young to know her own heart, swindled out of it by the original owner, that scumbag. A little too loose-tongued, maybe, but hardly deserving of such a terrible fate.
Scared as she was, all Yu An could do was urge her home and to watch her tongue from now on.
But precisely because she didn’t think it through, her gentleness rekindled hope in Cao Guan—and cooled Liu Huaixu’s eyes toward her several more degrees.
Perhaps it showed too plainly—Yu An noticed, and looked back. Liu Huaixu met her gaze squarely, without the slightest flinch, finding it almost laughable. All this, over one sliver of uncertainty.
If Yu An stopped acting, would she still be Yu An?
Crying, Cao Guan went home. The crowd dispersed, until only Yu An and Liu Huaixu remained outside Butcher Li’s shop.
Their minds ran on completely different tracks. Liu Huaixu was convinced this was all theater. Yu An, meanwhile, figured her change was obvious enough by now—surely Liu Huaixu wouldn’t keep giving her the cold shoulder?
Beaming, she said, “Let’s go home.”
Liu Huaixu gave her an icy once-over, took the meat from her hands, and walked off toward home without a backward glance.
Yu An stood dumbfounded. That… wasn’t quite how she’d pictured it???
She rubbed her nose and trudged after her.
Not a word passed between them the whole way—one walking ahead, one trailing behind.
At the courtyard gate, Liu Huaixu froze. Both chimneys were puffing away, smoke curling busily. She glanced back at Yu An, who followed her gaze—grinning ear to ear.
The very picture of praise me, please.
Liu Huaixu genuinely couldn’t tell what Yu An was playing at.
In all her years of hollow flattery, Yu An had never once done anything like this.
Collecting herself, Liu Huaixu decided she still couldn’t reward her with a kind face, and cooled again.
But Yu An had already caught that flicker of thaw, and her conviction only deepened: Liu Huaixu was cold outside, warm within—she was simply too angry at what the original owner had done.
“Wife, I saw you head out, so I got dinner started first.” Yu An’s expression was downright smug. She couldn’t deny it—she wanted Liu Huaixu’s praise. Maybe even a smile.
But who was Liu Huaixu?
The one whose hopes for Yu An had died a thousand deaths. A warm face, granted that easily? Never.
Liu Huaixu said flatly, “Don’t call me wife.”
“Oh. Huaixu, then?”
“Not allowed.” A cold shake of the head.
“Sister, then?”
“Not allowed.” Liu Huaixu’s face tightened further.
Not this, not that—Yu An was losing the plot.
“Then what am I supposed to call you?”
“As you please.”
Yu An scratched her head and had just opened her mouth to ask what kind of name “as you please” was—when a girl in a jujube-red hemp tunic came rushing up. Yu An recognized her at a glance: the young thing who’d run to warn Liu Huaixu that day.
Wu Qiuqiu had been waiting at the gate for some time. This visit, too, was to deliver news.
“Sister Huaixu… just now… just now…” Absorbed in her errand, Wu Qiuqiu had completely overlooked Yu An standing beside Liu Huaixu. The moment she did notice, she jammed to a halt, shooting Yu An a cautious look, wondering whether she ought to go on.
Liu Huaixu caught every one of those little glances. She shot Yu An a dirty look, then said to Wu Qiuqiu, “Qiuqiu, what’s got you in such a rush?”
Her voice was gentle—nothing like the knife it was when she spoke to Yu An. Yu An felt a little wronged.
And that look the girl had given her just now—timid, as if she might lash out at any moment.
It felt bad, whatever way you sliced it.
But Yu An wasn’t wrong, either. Wu Qiuqiu was afraid she’d lash out. A few years younger than Yu An, Wu Qiuqiu’s family had long been tenant farmers renting the Yu family’s fields back when the Yus were still well-off, and the two families had dealings since the girls were small.
In those days, Liu Huaixu had been the one to deal with the tenants, and familiarity had grown naturally. Yu An, on the other hand, would snarl at Wu Qiuqiu every time they met—had even struck her a time or two.
So even now, some fear of Yu An remained.
But with Liu Huaixu speaking so kindly, her courage swelled. Steadying herself, she said, “Sister Huaixu—I just saw Second Grandmother Yu arrive.”
Second Grandmother Yu was a Lord Alpha—a cousin of Yu An’s grandmother, Old Madam Yu. Since the old madam’s death, she had been head of the Yu family.
Yu An’s branch held real standing in Zeyuan Village. Old Madam Yu had been the finest Alpha of her generation, and her own younger sister had married the Village Head of the day—splendor without limit, for a time.
Even in her old age, the whole Yu Clan—and Cao Biao besides—treated Old Madam Yu with exceptional deference.
The old madam had been perfect in every way but one: fate made her bury her own child. Her only son had gone before her. And then there was Yu An, who broke the old woman’s heart into pieces in her final years.
Now that Old Madam Yu was gone, Yu An held no standing in the clan whatsoever—worse, she was a walking nuisance.
At the news, Liu Huaixu’s brow twitched with foreboding. She glanced at Yu An, then asked Wu Qiuqiu, “Did she say what for?”
“Not exactly… but…” Wu Qiuqiu paused, glancing at Yu An, not quite daring to go on.
“Never mind her. Go ahead.”
Liu Huaixu patted Wu Qiuqiu’s hand reassuringly, and she continued: “I overheard Second Uncle Yu say a few things. Sounds like… Sister Yu An caused trouble in the county town, and someone came looking for Second Grandmother about it.”
Second Uncle Yu was Second Grandmother Yu’s son, ranked second among his generation of the clan—the village’s younger folk all addressed him as such.
Yu An kept her eyes on her nose and her mind elsewhere, head ducked as low as it would go—but she could still feel two searing gazes. One withdrew quickly; the other turned colder by the moment.
“It’s getting dark, Qiuqiu. Head home.”
Wu Qiuqiu glanced at the two of them, agreed, and ran for home without looking back.
Only once Wu Qiuqiu was gone did Yu An dare lift her head—but wary of Liu Huaixu’s tongue, her eyes kept darting every which way.
Could anyone blame her? She was already miserable enough as the world’s most wretched scapegoat.
While the two of them had been discussing the matter, she’d been trying to work out what the original owner had actually done. Just as a thread started to form, Liu Huaixu’s icy glance scared her off it—the memory trail snapped—and now she dreaded any question Liu Huaixu might ask.
But Liu Huaixu ignored her entirely. She’d long since grown accustomed to such things.
Inside, Liu Huaixu first inspected the fruits of Yu An’s labor. Yu An had cooked with polished rice; Liu Huaixu found it rather wasteful.
But then—she had worked all day; something nice was only fair. She set about chopping the meat, but no sooner had it touched the board than Yu An snatched it away.
The day’s events had left Yu An feeling guilty, so she sidled up to Liu Huaixu, all eager-to-please. “You bought the meat—let me cook it, all right?” Forget “as you please”—dinner first!
But Liu Huaixu wouldn’t have it. She reached to take the meat back—she refused to let a single piece go to waste.
Liu Huaixu wouldn’t yield; neither would Yu An.
The standoff lasted a while before Liu Huaixu finally let go. She shot Yu An an odd, unsettled look, then turned and retreated to her own room.
Something about Liu Huaixu’s expression struck Yu An as strange, though she couldn’t say what. She rubbed her nose—and suddenly caught a drift of cold fragrance. But it dispersed quickly, and Yu An wondered if her nose was playing tricks. She sniffed twice more, found nothing, and went off to cook.
While Liu Huaixu was out, Yu An had already decided on the menu. Rummaging around earlier, she’d found pickled vegetables—perfect for that stir-fried pork with pickles she’d loved as a child.
With what they had, nothing fancier was possible. Yu An added a stick of firewood to build the flames, then started rummaging beside the stove.
She was looking for oil. These past days she’d rarely seen any go into Liu Huaixu’s cooking, and she didn’t dare ask—so she searched.
A long search turned up nothing. Fully convinced now of just how poor this household was, Yu An conceded and got the pork into the pan.
Thank goodness Liu Huaixu had bought pork belly—a few tosses in the pan and the fat rendered out.
Once the stir-fry was done, Yu An made a simple green-vegetable soup, then went to call Liu Huaixu to eat.
“Dinner’s ready. Come eat…”
They lived under one roof, after all—knocking had slipped Yu An’s mind. The moment the door swung open, she saw Liu Huaixu with her back turned, rubbing something onto the nape of her neck. At the sound of her voice, Liu Huaixu flinched like a startled rabbit, her whole body giving a shudder.
“Get out.” Back still turned, Liu Huaixu tightened her grip on the little porcelain vial, her voice like ice.
Thinking she’d merely startled her, Yu An explained, “I just came to call you for dinner…”
“I said get out. Are you deaf?” Liu Huaixu never turned around; her voice only dropped colder, her grip on the vial tightening.
After a long moment, Yu An squeaked out an “…Oh.”
Only after she’d gone did Liu Huaixu’s rigid shoulders finally ease. She looked down at the little porcelain vial and let out a breath of relief.
Her Rain-Dew Period had arrived. If Yu An ever found out…
