Mistaken Husband After Blindness

Si was somewhat carefree and indifferent when it came to certain matters.

For instance, she didn’t think the title “husband” was particularly significant or something that should be uttered lightly, as if saying it would turn her life upside down.

After drinking the ceremonial wine, she naturally began calling Jiang Hui “husband,” and from then on, it was “husband” this and “husband” that.

Sometimes, this form of address was a subtle way for her to tease Jiang Hui, but most of the time, it was a symbol of their bond. This bond wasn’t the kind of love that made one feel content with just water to drink, but rather a deep sense of loyalty and commitment—a kind of reliance.

Like now, after days of anxiety, Si’s call of “husband” was especially heartfelt.

Having just endured a nerve-wracking ordeal, her voice trembled softly, and her movements were timid. Clutching the sleeve of the young man, she looked like a child who had finally waited for her parents to return home.

The man whose sleeve she held remained as silent as ever. They had never been particularly affectionate, and this silence was in line with Jiang Hui’s temperament. However, Si needed some reassurance to calm the unease that had built up over the past few days, so she called out again softly.

“Husband?”

This time, her voice was even softer.

Though she couldn’t see, Si had a strong intuition that the young man’s gaze was fixed on her face. But why wasn’t he responding?

She tightened her grip on his sleeve.

A surprised gasp came from the doorway, but it was abruptly cut off, as if forcibly suppressed.

Si’s thoughts came to a halt. Since losing her sight, she had become especially wary of strangers. The sudden sound startled her, reminding her that there were others present, and she cautiously moved closer to her husband’s side.

This gesture of seeking protection was perfectly normal between a married couple, but the onlookers couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t until the young man gave them a gentle yet slightly reproachful look that they fell silent.

It wasn’t their fault—the whole situation was simply too astonishing.

Who would have thought that when the young master came to capture an assassin, instead of finding the assassin, he would end up with a “wife”!

Just moments ago, as they entered the room, Yan Shuheng had barely spoken when a creaking sound came from a corner cabinet. The guards drew their swords, ready for action, only to see a delicate hand clutching the cabinet door.

Yan Shuheng raised his hand, signaling the guards to sheathe their swords and remain silent.

Then, a young woman cautiously emerged from the cabinet, feeling her way like a frightened rabbit.

She was the daughter of the physician they had been searching for.

Now, seeing the woman from the painting in person, the guards finally understood why the city lord of Licheng had wanted to adopt her as his daughter and present her to the young master.

The woman wore no makeup, dressed in simple, plain clothes, and stood barefoot, her natural grace making her seem like a spirit from the mountains.

The gentle, modest hairstyle of a married woman didn’t make her look ordinary; instead, it added an ethereal quality, as if she had just entered the human world and been lured into the mortal realm by a charming man.

Every movement carried the shyness of a newlywed, hesitant and reserved, making it impossible to look away.

Her eyes, naturally alluring, were softened by their clear, empty gaze, as if veiled by a thin mist, like a mountain stream shrouded in morning fog.

But soon, they realized that the emptiness in her gaze was due to her blindness. She clumsily felt her way forward, barefoot and stumbling, until she reached the young master and grasped his sleeve.

Her expression was full of dependence, her voice soft and timid.

The previously tense atmosphere suddenly became tinged with ambiguity, along with a hint of awkwardness.

The blind woman, likely overwhelmed by panic, had mistaken the young master for her husband!

The guards looked to Yan Shuheng for guidance.

The young man remained silent, his gaze fixed on the woman’s face.

His affectionate eyes narrowed slightly, studying her thoughtfully. A beam of sunlight streamed in from outside, and a glint flashed in his deep eyes, like the faint glow in a wolf’s eyes under a moonlit night.

Then, the corner of his mouth lifted, and the dangerous glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by his usual elegant and refined demeanor.

The guards were at a loss.

The series of coincidences suggested that the woman’s husband was most likely the young assassin they were after.

The wife of an assassin was, in essence, an accomplice.

If this were an ordinary person, they would have been treated coldly, or even with hostility. But Yan Shuheng’s smile remained unchanged.

He didn’t correct her, nor did he respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a gentle, warm smile, as if she truly were his wife, hidden away in this small courtyard.

His silence deepened the ambiguous atmosphere and reignited the unease that Si had just begun to calm upon her husband’s return.

“Husband… why aren’t you speaking to me?”

She clutched his sleeve, looking up in his direction for a long time, but still received no response.

Si couldn’t help but overthink.

But such silence was typical of Jiang Hui, who was a man of few words.

Oh, this man…

Si sighed helplessly, her hand sliding down his sleeve to take his hand. He seemed to sense her intention and chuckled softly, gently pulling his sleeve free from her grasp.

If he weren’t shy, he wouldn’t be her husband, especially in front of so many strangers. But Si was too anxious to care. She quickly grabbed his sleeve again.

This time, the young man didn’t pull away, but let out a soft sigh, as if resigned to her clinginess.

At least it was a response, and Si felt slightly reassured. But just as she thought she had a lifeline, he moved again, gently but firmly pulling his sleeve from her grasp.

It felt like deliberate neglect, or perhaps playful teasing.

Now, Si was truly panicked.

Being blind was unbearable. Every word and action from others made her overanalyze everything.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, especially for newlyweds. But Jiang Hui had only been gone for a few days, and now that he was back, he was avoiding her. They had married hastily after she lost her sight during their elopement, fearing her insecurity. Could it be that after a few days away, he had second thoughts, worried that a blind wife would be a burden?

But now, Si could barely survive on her own, and the world was in chaos. If he regretted marrying her, what would become of her?

Si bit the inside of her lip, imagining the humiliation and abuse she would face if her husband “abandoned” her. In moments, tears welled up in her sightless eyes.

Though she couldn’t see, Si knew she looked beautiful when she cried. She also knew that less was more—hesitation and restraint tugged at the heartstrings more than outright sobbing.

She simply looked up at him, her lips slightly parted but silent, the picture of grievance but stubbornness.

Even the guards, who were usually indifferent to such displays, looked sympathetic. Only the young man in white remained calm, his eyes still soft with a gentle smile, unmoved.

The tears Si had forced out gradually became genuine, like raindrops on a crow’s feather, weighing down her lashes before slowly trailing down her cheeks.

The man above her responded with a soft chuckle.

For some reason, Si felt like she had heard this laugh before—as if he saw through her little act, or was simply amused by the spectacle. Or maybe he just found it entertaining.

She suddenly remembered the pair of eyes she had glimpsed in the city lord’s residence—eyes that had been watching her with a calm, amused gaze.

Thinking of that nobleman she had only seen once from a distance, a man who had inexplicably frightened her, Si’s sadness vanished, replaced by a heavy, suffocating feeling in her chest. Her outstretched hand stiffened into a fist, and she forgot to continue her act.

Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, the young man beside her gently grasped her wrist through her sleeve.

“Don’t cry. I’m back.”

His tone was softer than ever, as if he felt guilty for having left her uneasy for so long.

Finally hearing him speak again, Si felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity.

His voice didn’t sound quite right.

Or maybe it had always sounded this way.

Everything felt shrouded in a thick fog, impossible to grasp. But the fog quickly dissipated—perhaps she was just overthinking.

Reassured that he was back and wouldn’t abandon her anytime soon, Si’s heart finally settled.

In her daze, she suddenly felt herself lifted into the air. “What are you doing? There are people around…”

Wasn’t Jiang Hui supposed to be shy?

Before she could process what was happening, he had placed her on the bed and was putting shoes on her feet.

Si was even more surprised. Not only had he overcome his usual shyness, but he was also being unusually attentive.

It seemed the old saying was true.

Absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

Lost in thought, she didn’t even notice when he finished putting on her shoes. The young man said gently, “I still have some urgent matters to attend to. I’ll explain everything later.”

His tone was polite, his words slightly formal, almost distant. Si quickly grabbed his sleeve again. “Husband… are you going to leave me alone again for days?”

“No.”

He gently withdrew his hand.

Pushing too hard might backfire, so Si didn’t press further. Instead, she clasped her hands neatly on her knees and said softly, “Alright, then you go ahead with your work, husband. I’ll wait for you to return.”

Her voice carried the unique clarity and charm of a young girl of sixteen or seventeen, and when she deliberately softened it, it became even more enchanting.

It sounded as though she adored her husband to no end.

However, the affectionate term “husband” was directed at someone else entirely. Yet, the young man before Si remained composed, accepting the title without hesitation: “Alright.”

The guards were visibly stunned.

Not only because of the absurd and ambiguous scene before them, but also because of their conversation. Even after the young master spoke again, the girl still didn’t realize her mistake.

Clearly, her confusion wasn’t solely due to panic. It was also because her husband’s voice bore an uncanny resemblance to that of the young master!

They glanced at Yan Shuheng.

Yan Shuheng’s expression remained unchanged.

He signaled with his eyes for the others to keep an eye on Si, while he and Po Wu left the small courtyard.

The two of them arrived at the courtyard gate.

Yan Shuheng’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Po Wu, do you remember when the lead assassin made his move?”

“At that critical moment, I was too busy fighting the assassin to notice,” Po Wu replied, lifting his gaze to meet Yan Shuheng’s clear, mirror-like eyes. “Was it after he heard your voice?”

Yan Shuheng responded with a faint smile.

“It’s likely because I usually have you and Chuan Yun relay my messages, so I rarely speak myself. The assassin probably didn’t realize until he got close enough to strike. Otherwise, there’s no reason he would have hesitated at such a life-or-death moment.”

Po Wu was surprised, then even more puzzled. “The person behind him wants to take your life, Young Master. If they had such a useful tool, why wouldn’t they use it? Unless they didn’t know in advance that the assassin’s voice resembled yours. But given that they sent so many assassins and nearly succeeded, they’re clearly not amateurs. It’s highly unlikely they wouldn’t have thoroughly vetted the assassins beforehand.

“Or perhaps they did know, but their goal wasn’t to kill you. Sending the assassins might have had another purpose.

“Could it be to frame someone or sow discord?”

After listening to Po Wu’s reasoning, Yan Shuheng neither confirmed nor denied it.

He simply asked in a calm voice, “Po Wu, do you think there are really two people in the world with voices so similar?”

Po Wu replied, “The world is vast, and wonders abound. There are blood brothers who look alike, and even strangers who resemble each other. Moreover, voices are easier to imitate than appearances. I’ve heard of singers and musicians who can mimic others’ voices to the point of being indistinguishable.”

“Singers,” Yan Shuheng murmured with a faint smile.

He pondered for a moment, then glanced at his sleeve, which bore slight creases from being gripped.

Po Wu also looked at the wrinkled sleeve.

“Our men have been stationed here for three days, and there’s been no sign of an ambush. The girl’s husband hasn’t made a move, as if he’s forgotten about his wife at home. Perhaps he’s tied up with other matters, or perhaps his original intention was to lure you here, Young Master.”

Yan Shuheng lowered his lashes slightly, his long fingers smoothing out the creases on his sleeve. “Perhaps we’ll need to find out from her.”

Po Wu caught the meaningful glint in the young man’s eyes and, unusually slow on the uptake, asked, “Are you planning to interrogate the girl?”

Yan Shuheng chuckled softly.

He raised his gaze, his eyes warm and gentle like a spring breeze, carrying a hint of ambiguity.

“Since when does a husband interrogate his wife?”

Po Wu immediately understood.

Just as he was about to ask Yan Shuheng about his next steps, a guard stationed halfway up the mountain rushed in with urgent news.

“Young Master, the family has returned!”