"Aren’t you… supposed to be toasting guests in the front hall, husband?" Wen Qingwan asked, noticing the domestic abuser’s face flush red with embarrassment.
She couldn’t help but wonder—he blushes just from speaking a few words, and he’s supposed to be abusive?
“I am going,” Xiao Jin said. “I’ll call your maid in to help you.” With that, he hobbled out—limping with each step, yet his back remained perfectly straight.
"Pfft-"
Wen Qingwan watched his retreating figure and let out a carefree laugh. The straighter Xiao Jin held his back, the more ridiculous he looked from behind.
Soon, Jinlan and Jinque entered, their faces lit with cheerful smiles. As she stepped forward, Jinlan lowered her voice and said, “Miss, the young lord asked us to assist you."
“Alright, help me take off the headpieces first,” Wen Qingwan said. She was wearing several pounds of gold and silver ornaments on her head.
Jinque had entered, balancing a tray of food from somewhere. “Miss, the young lord hasn’t even toasted the guests yet, but he was in such a hurry to lift your veil and asked us to let you eat first.”
“Miss, rumors aren’t always true. I think the young lord isn’t so bad—he’s been quite kind to you,” Jinlan said gently.
“You’re right, Sister. The young lord not only has striking features—sharp brows and starry eyes—but he’s also been very kind to Miss. Yet outside, people say he’s so ugly he could stop a crying baby.”
“Miss, please have something to eat first. These dishes were given to me by Leng Yan, the man beside the young lord.”
“Alright, then let’s eat together,” Wen Qingwan said softly.
She wouldn’t tell the two maids that, from Wen Mingzhu’s memories, she had learned the young lord’s hobby was beating his wife—reportedly several times a day.
With that, she began eating heartily. To her surprise, the pastries from the declining Marquis’s household were even more exquisite than those from her own Wen family.
“Miss, please eat first. I’ll join Brother Leng Yan later,” Jinque said. It was the first time she had ever declined to dine with her mistress.
Wen Qingwan gave Jinque a puzzled look. “Brother Leng Yan? Who is that?”
“He’s the young lord’s chief guard. Leng Feng said they’ve followed the young lord since they were old enough to remember—through life and death. The young lord has saved them more than once.”
Jinque was her usual lively self, standing behind Wen Qingwan and chattering endlessly about Brother Leng Yan.
Jinlan shot her several meaningful glances, but Jinque either didn’t notice—or noticed and chose to ignore them.
After finishing her meal, Wen Qingwan noticed that Xiao Jin still hadn’t returned. She called for Jinque to fetch hot water for her to wash up.
Xiao Jin stepped in, looking fresh and composed, only to see his little bride seated gracefully beside the red candle. Its glow lit up her delicate face, making her look like a fairy from a painting.
He stepped forward, poured two cups of wine, and handed one to Wen Qingwan. “Madam,” he said, “let us drink the nuptial wine together.”
Though she had lived two lifetimes, Wen Qingwan had never tasted nuptial wine. Finding it novel, she cheerfully accepted the cup from his hand and brought it to her lips.
“Wife, this is how the nuptial wine should be drunk,” Xiao Jin said as he reached for Wen Qingwan’s arm.
Mistaking his gesture for the start of his abusive behavior, Wen Qingwan swiftly grabbed his elbow with her free hand and threw him over her shoulder.
Xiao Jin lay on the ground, stunned. Was his little bride really this fierce?
Wen Qingwan paid no mind to Xiao Jin’s expression. While he was still on the ground, she gave his head a sharp twist. With a crisp crack, his neck was strained—he’d wake up with a stiff neck.
He tilted his neck awkwardly, squinting at her with effort. Pointing a finger, he said, “You… are you trying to murder your own husband? We’re already married…”
With a sharp crack, Wen Qingwan dislocated his right wrist.
Xiao Jin: …
If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Even with a stiff neck and a dislocated wrist, he would’ve retaliated without hesitation.
But the one who hurt him was the girl he held dear. He could only endure it, and said with quiet grievance, “Wife, help your husband up.”
Wen Qingwan remained unmoved, though her mind had drifted back to Wen Mingzhu’s inner thoughts.
Wen Mingzhu said that the moment Xiao Jin entered the bridal chamber, he beat her mercilessly. Then he called for servants to drag her to the woodshed, calling her a venomous woman.
“Someone, take this wife-beater to the woodshed,” Wen Qingwan ordered, deciding to strike first.
“Madam~we haven’t even drunk the wedding wine yet!” Xiao Jin said again, pitifully.
He knew there was no one outside the bridal chamber at the moment—the young lady’s two maids had been taken to eat by Leng Yan and the others.
“How do you want to drink it?” Wen Qingwan asked. She, too, felt that sharing the nuptial wine was necessary to truly become husband and wife.
“Wife, help your husband up first,” he said, playing the pitiful card once more.
“Are you sure you won’t hit me?” Wen Qingwan asked uncertainly.
“Why would I ever hit my wife?” he said, sounding wounded by the accusation.
She had no way of knowing.
Wen Mingzhu once said that abusive men don’t need a reason to hit their wives.
Wen Qingwan reached out and helped Xiao Jin up from the ground, thinking to herself that with his crooked neck and dislocated wrist, he probably wouldn’t be able to overpower her.
Enduring the pain, Xiao Jin patiently taught his little bride how to drink the nuptial wine. With his uninjured hand, he held the cup and gently linked arms with her.
He had wanted to tilt his head back and drink in one bold gulp, but with his neck sprained by the little girl’s throw, he could only sip slowly, head tilted awkwardly.
Instead, Wen Qingwan lifted her chin and downed the nuptial wine in one bold gulp. Her expression turned serious as she said, “The wine is drunk. You should head to the woodshed.”
How could Xiao Jin possibly accept spending the wedding night he had longed for over ten years alone in the woodshed?
He pulled her into his arms with one swift motion, then said with a charming smile, “Tonight, I belong only to you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Wrong Decision!
Wen Qingwan was filled with regret. Had she known, she would’ve dislocated both his wrists.
It was the first time she’d ever been this close to a man. Her face flushed instantly.
Xiao Jin looked at the delicate beauty before him and couldn’t help but gently pinch her cheek. “Wife~”
"Crack--"
“Ah—” The tenderness in Xiao Jin’s eyes hadn’t yet faded when pain tore through him. His finger had fractured.
Leng Yan and Leng Feng arrived at their lord’s bridal chamber with Jinque and Jinlan, only to hear the young lord Xiao howling like a slaughtered pig.
“Hehe… Sister Jinlan, is your master always this fierce?” Leng Feng whispered with a cheeky grin.
“Brother Leng Yan, our lady is super gentle! Why’s your young master screaming like that?” Jinque giggled, face full of innocent delight.
“Oh, come now! Our lord has loved your lady for ten years. Of course he’s doing his best to please her.”
Even Leng Feng had to admit their lord was being a bit much—anyone passing by might think he was being beaten senseless.
Leng Yan stood silently at the door, his expression cold. Unlike Leng Feng and the two maids, he wasn’t nearly as optimistic.
Sure enough, from inside the bridal chamber came a thunderous roar: “Jinque, get in here and throw this domestic abusive into the woodshed!”
Leng Yan had sensed something was wrong from the start. He rushed in with the others—and saw everything at a glance.
Their lord lay on the bed, neck tilted awkwardly. The lady had one hand twisting his finger, the other gripping his arm.
Everyone was stunned by the scene before them—and then, right in front of their eyes, the lady dislocated the young lord’s arm.
“Ow—my lady, please show mercy!” the young lord cried out in pain, breaking into a cold sweat.
Leng Yan and Leng Feng immediately dropped to their knees and cried out in unison, “Madam, please show mercy!”
🐇♡🐇♡🐇♡🐇
Runa's Nonsense Corner/ Translator's World
Was this still his wedding night?
Was this still his wife?
He opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally:
“I just wanted to drink wedding wine…”
Xiao Jin when told to stay at the woodshed:
He stared at her, speechless.
The wine burned down his throat. His neck throbbed. His wrist dangled uselessly.
And now… the woodshed?
He blinked once. Twice.
Then finally, with the dignity of a man thoroughly defeated by love and martial arts, he muttered:
“Wife… can I at least bring a blanket?”
Xiao Jin when thinking of his wedding night:
This was battlefield diplomacy—with wine.
And he’d just lost the first round!
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