Mistaken Husband After Blindness

Two years ago...

A playful glint flashed in Yan Shuheng's eyes as he looked up. "Po Wu, you've seen her too. What do you think?"

Po Wu pondered carefully. "Her appearance is about seventy percent similar, but that could also be due to her attire and makeup. As for her temperament... I'm not as familiar with her as you are, Young Master. But since the young lady knows you, why does she now seem completely unaware that her husband's voice resembles yours?"

Yan Shuheng's gaze fell on a rabbit cage in the corner, where a wounded rabbit was timidly looking at him.

The young man's eyes held a smile. "During her month in Nanyang, we only met a few times. I only knew she was a young lady from the Jiang family and was close to the ninth son of the Chen family. I didn't know much about her temperament. Presumably, she knew just as little about me. It's been two years, so it's not unusual for her to forget my voice. She might be pretending, or she might have genuinely forgotten."

His smile carried a hint of helplessness. "She's always had a poor memory."

This confirmed it was the same person. Po Wu analyzed calmly, "When we met in Jiankang, Mr. Chen only mentioned that the young lady had died unexpectedly, without going into details. But her death occurred eight months ago, during the southward migration of the prominent families from Yingchuan. It's said they encountered barbarians on the road and lost many clan members. Presumably, the young lady met her end during that time. However, the road from Yingchuan to Jiankang is in a different direction from Licheng, hundreds of miles apart. How did the young lady end up here, becoming the daughter of that physician? Moreover, she didn't seek help from her family, as if she had lost her memory. And what a coincidence that she ran into you, Young Master."

Yan Shuheng rubbed his sleeve and smiled.

"Whether it's a coincidence or someone's deliberate arrangement, she likely doesn't know about it. After all, she's been avoiding me."

"Continue searching for that physician surnamed Zheng. Also, investigate any unusual activities in the Jiang and Chen families of Yingchuan over the past year." Yan Shuheng then listed a few names. "Check if they've made any recent moves."

The people listed all had conflicting interests with him and were aware of his past disagreements with the young lady.

Po Wu suddenly understood the key point.

If the young lady's appearance was a coincidence, the current evidence strongly suggested that the person she eloped with was likely that young assassin, and her husband's voice was strikingly similar to the Young Master's.

Such a series of coincidences, if they happened to an ordinary person, could be explained away as fate.

But within the complex world of aristocratic families, the Young Master had been designated as the next clan leader candidate due to his exceptional talent from a young age, which had inevitably stepped on many toes. Numerous eyes were always watching him closely, eager to take his life or make him falter in some way.

Accepting the order, Po Wu left solemnly.

After Po Wu left, Yan Shuheng, feeling bored, opened the gilded rabbit cage. The little creature's eyes lit up at the sight of him, sniffing gently at his hand, acting both obedient and ingratiating.

Yan Shuheng held the rabbit in his arms, lost in thought. Suddenly, he murmured to himself, "Did she simply forget, or... did she never really remember in the first place?"

He didn't elaborate, only smiled.

.

After her husband left, Si sat by the bed for a while, lost in thought. In the distance, the sound of laughter and chatter seemed like a stone thrown into a bottomless icy pond, tearing a crack in the darkness before her eyes and letting in a sliver of elusive but warm morning light.

No matter what, she was still alive.

Being alive was reason enough to be grateful.

A moment later, faint footsteps approached the room. Si straightened her skirt and stood up. "Husband?"

"Madam, it's me. The Young Master hired me to take care of you." The voice belonged to a young girl, clear and youthful, likely only a few years younger than Si.

Si then remembered that before he left, he had mentioned hiring someone to look after her. At the time, she had been so relieved that Jiang Hui had finally returned, freeing her from constant worry, that she hadn't given much thought to anything else.

Only now did she recall that there were still many things she hadn't asked him.

Jiang Hui hadn't offered any explanations either.

He said he was working for the government, but why did the soldiers shout "Catch the assassin" before entering?

Why did they draw their swords when she crawled out of the cabinet? Hadn't Jiang Hui told them that his family lived in the courtyard?

The only thing that reassured her was his voice. If the voice was his, how could the person not be him?

Feeling distant was probably because he had been gone for so long.

Si pushed aside her doubts and called to the maid. "What should I call you? How old are you?"

The maid replied cautiously, "Madam, I'm fifteen. My name is Zhuyuan."

Si smiled kindly at her. "Then I'll call you Ayuan. I can't see, so I'll have to trouble you from now on."

Zhuyuan's gaze fell on the beautiful face of the woman by the bed. Having served in aristocratic households, she had seen countless beauties, but she was still momentarily stunned by Si's appearance before quickly lowering her eyes. "Taking care of you is my duty, Madam."

Si, pretending to be casual, asked conversationally, "Ayuan, have you always worked for my husband?"

Zhuyuan followed the script Yan Shuheng had provided. "Madam, I just arrived. I'm from Weixing Prefecture. My family fled here after the barbarian invasion and sold me as a servant to cover travel expenses. I happened to be bought by the Young Master."

"I see..." Si had hoped to glean some information about Jiang Hui from her, but it seemed she really had just been hired. Si waved her hand amiably. "Don't be nervous. I'll call you if I need anything."

Zhuyuan acknowledged and retreated to wait outside the door.

For two days, no one else came to the house besides Si and Zhuyuan. At first, Si was afraid her husband had left again, but Jiang Hui sent a message or two home every day.

Knowing he was still around, Si felt reassured.

Previously, she had been unable to walk due to a sprained foot. Now that her foot had healed, her priority was to adapt to her blindness. In her spare time, Si practiced walking in the dark.

"Ouch—"

She had lost count of how many times she had fallen.

Her hands pressed against the ground, her palms stinging from the sharp gravel, tears welling up in her eyes.

Zhuyuan hurried over to help her up. "Why do you keep doing this? I was hired to take care of you. Just tell me where you want to go or what you need."

Si held onto her hand and stood up, smiling indifferently. "Some things I have to do myself, like walking."

Not long after, she fell again. Zhuyuan rushed to help, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a white robe.

It was Yan Shuheng. He stood quietly behind the sparse bamboo, his gaze calm, as if he had been there for a while.

Zhuyuan was about to bow, but he stopped her with a gesture. She then moved to help Si but was stopped again.

Yan Shuheng stood silently. His eyes were usually warm, but when he lowered them, there was a hint of detached pity.

Zhuyuan didn't understand his attitude, but seeing Si fall made her heart ache. As she hesitated, Yan Shuheng bent down and gently helped Si up.

"Are you alright?"

Si's sightless eyes shimmered as she softly called out, "Husband, you're back."

"Yes, let's go inside." Yan Shuheng helped her into the house, his hand still maintaining a respectful distance through her clothes.

From behind, Zhuyuan saw the two figures, both dressed in white. One wore a jade crown, standing tall and elegant like a tree in the wind, while the other wore a plain moon-colored dress, her black hair tied with a ribbon, resembling a lotus emerging from water.

They looked like a harmonious pair.

.

Inside the room.

Si proudly let go of the young man's hand and walked a few steps to sit by the window. "Husband, look, I can move around the room on my own now."

"Impressive progress."

Yan Shuheng didn't hesitate to praise her. Noticing a bruise on her hand, he called for Zhuyuan to bring ointment.

Si reached out to take the ointment and apply it herself.

A cool, refreshing scent wafted over as he approached her unexpectedly. Si instinctively stepped back, but her wrist was gently but firmly grasped.

A cool sensation spread across her wrist.

"You can't see. Let me do it," he said softly.

Si's eyes widened in surprise. She thought to herself, *Has the sun risen from the west? This blockhead is actually applying ointment for me!*

He remained reserved and proper, holding her wrist through her sleeve as he dipped his fingers into the ointment and applied it gently.

The ointment was cool, soothing the broken skin on her wrist, both painful and pleasant. He rubbed it in circles, his touch light. Though the ointment created a barrier between their skin, the contact still felt strange.

Si wanted to pull her hand back, but he held it firmly. She held her breath, her body stiff as he continued applying the ointment. When his fingertip touched a particularly sore spot, the coolness clashed with the pain, sending a sharp sensation up her arm and straight to her head.

Si couldn't help but gasp, a low moan escaping her throat. "Husband, go... go easy..."

The man paused, then chuckled softly. Only then did Si realize how suggestive her earlier moan had sounded.

It was easy to misunderstand her, thinking she was acting coy.

Usually, she would occasionally put on a playful act to tease him, but when she did so, it was premeditated—intentionally meant to mislead him. Yet, when he truly misunderstood, she felt uneasy instead.

Si pursed her lips, trying hard to relax, but the stiffness spread from her heart to her hands.

"Did I press too hard?" The young man chuckled softly, lowering his head to gently blow on her wrist.

It was like a soft breeze, so tender that it made Si uncomfortable, as if the injury burned even more intensely. Her hand instinctively twitched back: "My husband, you’ve worked hard outside. Now that you’re finally home, please rest. Let Zhuyuan take care of it."

"You’re so easily teased," the young man murmured with a low laugh.

Soon, Si heard the rustling of clothes, accompanied by a faint gust of wind—he had stood up.

Zhuyuan stepped forward to take the ointment and continued applying it to the scraped area on Si’s ankle.

Si shivered and let out a soft "hiss."

Yan Shuheng gazed absently out the window: "If it hurts, why not rest? Why torment yourself?"

Si shook her head firmly: "Though I’ve lost my sight, I’m not some caged cat or rabbit. If all I do every day is eat, drink, and sleep, how is that any different from being dead?"

Her voice was naturally delicate, clear and charming with a touch of youthful innocence, like a flower petal that had just bloomed and not yet weathered any storms. Yet her tone was as unyielding as branches enduring the wind and rain.

Yan Shuheng was reminded of something.

His gaze, as scattered as clouds, drifted back from the window to Si’s face. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he said softly, "But isn’t living just the same as waiting for death?"

Si looked up in surprise, his words lingering in her ears, stirring an inexplicable sense of distance between them.

"Why are you distracted? Did my words frighten you?" His voice, as light as morning mist, interrupted her thoughts.

Si shook her head and answered honestly, "It’s just that I suddenly feel like you’re not quite the same as you used to be."

"Is that so?"

Yan Shuheng’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, his tone gentle and languid, like a soothing whisper, a coaxing tease.

He looked deeply into Si’s clear, charming eyes.

"How am I different?"