Mistaken Husband After Blindness

"Don’t worry, nothing can happen in broad daylight."

Yan Shuheng was helpless at the strange thoughts swirling in her mind.

He pressed her back against the chair and, as if trying something entirely new, began to fan her gently: "You’re so considerate, my lady, that it makes me feel guilty. Since there’s nothing pressing right now, let me soothe you to sleep as an apology."

Si was even more surprised.

While it was natural for other husbands to be attentive, Jiang Hui was different. The usual indifference suited him better, and this sudden gentleness felt unreal to Si.

Still, having someone coax her to sleep was a bonus. She pushed her luck: "If you’re going to coax me to sleep, you’ll have to tell me a story."

Yan Shuheng didn’t fall for her trap and chuckled, "If I tell you a story, will you even be able to sleep? If you want to fall asleep, I’d better recite something dull and tedious."

Si sat up in surprise, "How did you know! When I was a child, I’d get sleepy as soon as I started reading. My father used this trick to put me to sleep, and it worked every time!"

As soon as she finished speaking, she froze.

The "father" she had just mentioned was definitely not Zheng Wu.

Having lost her memory months ago, this was the first time Si had spontaneously recalled something from her past. For no reason, a pang of pain gripped her heart—a mix of warmth and sorrow.

At first, it felt warm, but soon it turned into a dull, lingering ache.

Before her eyes, she seemed to see white funeral banners fluttering, and paper money scattering like thin blades in the wind.

Si suddenly stood up.

She tried to recall more, but it was futile. Remembering what Zheng Wu had said that night when she eavesdropped, Si’s heart clenched in fear.

Zheng Wu had mentioned that when he found her, there had been a group of criminals who had been exiled for rebellion passing through the area. They had tried to escape but were hunted down by soldiers and jumped off a cliff. Around the same time, a northern aristocratic family had migrated south, and it was rumored that they had encountered bandits, with many being captured.

He had initially suspected that Si might be the family member of a disgraced official, but since there were no tattoo marks on her face or shackle scars on her wrists, and she wore an expensive bracelet, he guessed she might be from a wealthy family migrating south. He had hoped to use the favor of saving her to gain some benefit.

But after inquiring in the area for a long time, Zheng Wu hadn’t heard of anyone looking for a missing daughter, so he concluded that Si either had no family left or had been abandoned by her relatives in their haste to flee south.

Now, this sudden heartache made Si suspect that she had once had a family who loved her dearly.

But they were probably gone.

The illusion of the fluttering funeral banners made her legs go weak, and she slowly sat back down.

Someone gently moved the chair to prevent her from falling, and Si suddenly snapped back to reality, forcing a faint smile onto her lips.

Yan Shuheng’s calm eyes reflected Si’s dazed expression.

Though he didn’t know how Si had become Zheng Wu’s daughter, her decisive departure with the assassin and her lack of attachment to the physician afterward suggested she had already guessed he wasn’t her real father.

But he wasn’t sure if Jiang Hui knew about this. Knowing that saying too much could lead to mistakes, he only asked, "Do you resent that physician?"

Si’s gaze turned icy, tinged with a hint of mockery, "There was never any father-daughter bond, so how could I resent him?"

He softened his tone further, "Then why were you sad just now?"

Si’s lips parted and closed.

Earlier, to distance herself from Zheng Wu, she had vaguely described him as a stranger who had found her, without mentioning how old she was when he found her or that she had lost her memory.

A person with no memory is like a blank slate, and it’s all too easy for someone with ulterior motives to fabricate a story to deceive her.

Even if Jiang Hui wouldn’t harm her now, that didn’t mean he never would. A person without a past or experience is easy to manipulate, and she couldn’t easily reveal this vulnerability to him.

At least not until life became more stable.

Si thought back to the dream she had earlier, where her father had gently ruffled her hair with a mix of helplessness and indulgence.

Suddenly, she said, "Husband, may I have your hand?" Her voice was as soft as a spring breeze, impossible to refuse.

Yan Shuheng extended his hand.

Si held his warm palm, the heat transferring to her own hand. Like a naive child, she guided his hand to rest on top of her head.

"So... this is what it feels like."

It was like having a roof over her head when she was exposed and alone in the wilderness.

This was the feeling of having a father’s protection.

Si released his hand, her tone calm and devoid of emotion, "Alright, I’ve had enough."

The young man’s hand moved from her head but cupped her cheek instead, "What’s wrong?"

His voice had shed the deliberate coldness he used when pretending to be Jiang Hui, and now he spoke in his own, Yan Shuheng’s, gentle tone.

It was like a single candle flame in a cold, dark night.

Si was momentarily stunned, then turned her gaze away, her eyes clear and free of worry, "Weren’t you going to coax me to sleep?"

Yan Shuheng smiled and ruffled her hair again.

He didn’t even know which branch of the Jiang family she belonged to, let alone how she had met with an accident. Perhaps losing her memory was a blessing for her at this moment, so he decided not to probe further, "How about I read you a few stories instead?"

Si smiled softly, "Your voice is too captivating. If you tell me a story, I’ll be too entranced to sleep."

She chose to put on a brave face, and Yan Shuheng didn’t expose her, indulging her like a younger sister, "Alright, as you wish."

He gently fanned her and began reciting passages from *The Thousand Character Classic* and even a section from *The Book of Rites*.

"...Those who seek moderation in declining titles are declining nourishment."

By the time he finished the last word, the person in the rocking chair had already fallen asleep. Yan Shuheng leaned on the armrest, his gentle gaze resting on her face like a soft veil.

He stood up to leave but turned back to instruct Zhuyuan, who was quietly waiting nearby, "Fetch a light blanket."

Zhuyuan brought the blanket and was about to cover Si when the young man took it from her.

He bent down and carefully draped the blanket over the sleeping lady, then left without looking back.

Outside the courtyard, it was hard to sleep soundly. Si woke up after just half an hour, but though the nap was short, she felt surprisingly refreshed.

Her hand brushed against the palm-leaf fan left on the table beside her, and the sound of his recitations echoed in her ears.

Si silently ran her fingers over the fan’s handle.

Later, he sent word that he was too busy with work to return home.

A night later, when Si thought of her husband again, her impression of him remained that of a mysterious and taciturn man.

The rare teasing and tenderness from the day before seemed like a fleeting bloom, as if he had never changed.

Whether aloof or gentle, even the uncharacteristic teasing seemed to be part of his true nature.

The sun was high in the sky, the perfect time for a midday nap.

The quiet bamboo garden was disturbed by hurried footsteps, and a guard lightly knocked on the door.

"Eldest Young Master, scouts report that bandits have been spotted in the suburbs. What’s strange is that these bandits haven’t killed anyone or stolen anything. Instead, they went straight to a hunter’s house. The hunter didn’t report to the authorities but fled overnight, acting suspiciously. Our people stationed near the city gates intercepted him."

A moment later, a clear and composed voice, devoid of sleepiness, came from the quiet room, "I’m aware."

Soon after, Yan Shuheng appeared in a hidden room in the western part of the city with several guards and advisors. When they opened the door, a burly man with a thick beard knelt on the floor, his hands bound.

Yan Shuheng examined him closely, but the man lowered his head further, unwilling to show his face.

Yan Shuheng suddenly smiled.

"Perhaps we’ve all been fooled."

He said calmly, "Untie the general."

Seeing that his identity had been exposed, the man raised his head and spoke gruffly, "Eldest Young Master, you may have once been a trusted aide of the Former Crown Prince, but times have changed. Now you’re a rising star of Southern Zhou, as noble as royalty. And I, Zhao Chang, am but a lowly commoner, my country gone, my old master dead. How can I deserve to be addressed as ‘general’ by someone of your stature!"

His words were filled with sarcasm, each sentence insinuating something about Yan Shuheng. Yet Yan Shuheng remained as calm as a statue of Buddha, enveloped in a gentle but distant aura.

Another advisor stepped forward and scolded, "When the barbarians invaded and the Central Plains fell into chaos, Eldest Young Master went south to strategize for the Former Crown Prince. Later, when the capital fell, the Former Crown Prince ordered Assistant Grand Tutor Chen and you, General, to escort the Young Grandson south. When the Young Grandson was still fleeing, the Qi Family wanted to install the current emperor, but Eldest Young Master persuaded them with reason, and the matter was suppressed. Unfortunately, Assistant Grand Tutor Chen was killed, and you and the Young Grandson disappeared. Later, the Yin Family from the east produced a fake Young Grandson as a pretext to rebel. Eldest Young Master discovered that the real Young Grandson had died, so he supported the new emperor’s ascension! We are subjects of Great Zhou, and our priority is the stability of the nation. Should we let the chaos continue?!"

Zhao Chang snorted, "Everyone knows that Southern Zhou is now ruled by the Qi and Yan families. If you say the Yan Family has no intentions of betraying their master, I don’t believe it!"

The advisor raised his feather fan, ready to argue further, but Yan Shuheng raised his hand to stop him.

He dismissed everyone, keeping only Po Wu by his side for protection, and then calmly looked at Zhao Chang: "The ascension of the Prince of Langya to the throne indeed had the support of my Yan family. However, I grew up with His Highness, and he trusts me deeply. I have no reason to harm the Young Grandson. But I also have my own interests to protect. Even if I suspected that the death of Assistant Grand Tutor Chen and the Young Grandson was suspicious, with the new emperor's ascension being the general consensus and the Young Grandson still being so young, even if he were unharmed, I would have gone along with the tide."

Zhao Chang didn’t expect him to admit it so frankly. He let out a cold snort and said nothing more.

Yan Shuheng had no desire to waste words: "General, you may not know this, but the bandits who attacked you were actually the assassins I’ve been trying to capture. My men accidentally brought you here."

"No wonder—" Zhao Chang spat. "Then tell me, why did they deliberately let you discover my whereabouts?"

"Perhaps they wanted to cause me some trouble, using a diversion to escape in the chaos. General, you once escorted the Young Grandson during his flight. If I were to be associated with you, it might provoke suspicion among the other noble families and the new emperor." Yan Shuheng took a step forward, his tone meaningful. "Or perhaps they’ve learned that the Young Grandson is still alive and want to find him, to rally the noble families who supported the Former Crown Prince against the new emperor, stirring up conflict among the clans to reap the benefits themselves."

Zhao Chang’s gaze sharpened instantly: "Nonsense! The Young Grandson was killed. What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

His eyes flickered almost imperceptibly.

Yan Shuheng smiled knowingly: "Whether it’s nonsense or the truth, General, you likely know better than I do."

Zhao Chang sneered: "Are you trying to imitate the Yin Family, raising a fake Young Grandson to manipulate the court?"

"The Yan family’s power is at its peak now, and I enjoy the new emperor’s trust. Why would I undermine my own interests?" Yan Shuheng’s voice suddenly softened. "I just remember how much His Highness doted on that child."

Zhao Chang looked at him with a mix of doubt and suspicion: "Why?"

Why would he risk the suspicion and ostracism of the noble families and the emperor to protect a child?

Yan Shuheng, of course, wouldn’t reveal all his thoughts: "Perhaps it’s so that when I meet His Highness again a hundred years from now, I can do so with a clear conscience."

He simply said, "General, the decision is yours to make," and then walked out of the secret chamber.

.

By the time he returned, the sun was setting, and the shadow of the carriage stretched long across the stone-paved road.

Yan Shuheng lifted the curtain, his profile outlined by the dazzling glow of the sunset. He gazed at the fading light and smiled faintly.

Chuan Yun also looked out through the curtain.

The young master had entered officialdom at the age of fifteen or sixteen, taking one careful step at a time. Two years ago, constrained by his grandfather’s orders and the interests of the family, he had no choice but to abandon the Former Crown Prince, with whom he shared common ideals, and head south to strategize. Since then, the young master had become more engrossed in the art of power and more ruthless in his methods, achieving one success after another.

At times, Chuan Yun felt that whether it was Luoyang or Jiankang, both were like gilded cages—glittering but suffocating. The once-glorious royal clans and noble families were like tigers and leopards trapped by power, forced to endlessly tear at each other to maintain their positions.

The young man shook off his musings: "We’ll be returning to Jiankang in two days. Does the young master have anything to arrange?"

Yan Shuheng lowered his hand.

The felt curtain fell, and the sunlight vanished, plunging the carriage back into dimness. The emotions in his voice became indistinct.

"Not much. There’s just one person I need to keep close."

Chuan Yun thought he was referring to the ungrateful Zhao Chang and said angrily, "Does the young master need me to prepare shackles and chains?!"

Yan Shuheng gave him a gentle look and chuckled: "That shouldn’t be necessary, but who knows?

"I’ll have to ask her when I return."

After alighting from the carriage, he headed straight for the small courtyard.