Mu Qing’s journey to the capital, though it hadn’t resulted in finding the not-yet-risen original Dragon-AoTian male lead in Linqing City’s Daohua Village, wasn’t entirely fruitless.
After a series of events that felt like she’d accidentally stumbled into a wuxia set, Mu Qing, thinking quickly and laughing through the pain, came up with an even more brilliant idea—rather than running around like a headless chicken, trying to guard against a Dragon-AoTian who could pop up from anywhere, why not go straight for a masterstroke and pull the rug out from under the plot once and for all?
If the issue was marrying the Dragon-AoTian, then she could simply marry someone else first.
Of course, in a short time, it was basically impossible to find someone she genuinely connected with, knew inside and out, and could entrust her life to.
Not that she had any intention of looking anyway.
She’d seen enough over the past ten-plus years to know exactly what kind of creatures the men of this dynasty were.
Thinking back to the famous scenes she’d witnessed as the legitimate eldest daughter of the Mu family when she first transmigrated, Mu Qing couldn’t help but rub her temples.
Men of this dynasty—especially those with even a little money—were one worse than the next.
No matter how beautiful, capable, gentle, or virtuous the main wife was, the notion of “a lifelong, faithful pair” was utterly laughable.
What man didn’t dream of “red sleeves adding fragrance” and “a delicate flower that understands him”? No matter how old they got, their preferences never changed: the younger and prettier, the better. Even her own father, who was supposedly deeply devoted to her mother, had done things that made Mu Qing cringe.
With that reality, her budding fear of marriage had only worsened.
Even in modern society, marriage came with worries—jerks, heartbreak, physical harm, even threats to your life—so in a feudal society that maintained the raw essence of male dominance?
At home, you were a pampered young lady; once married, you were just someone’s wife. Even princesses, once married, had to honor in-laws, serve their husbands, raise children, and manage household chaos. Otherwise, not only could they be accused by their husband’s family in court, but their own royal father might issue a decree of reprimand.
With things like that, why even marry?
What was so bad about staying beautiful and single?
She had long made up her mind: whatever excuse she had to use, she was going to stride boldly toward her dream of becoming a wealthy, lifelong bachelorette.
Frankly, if not for the Dragon-AoTian issue, she really had a shot.
After all, she’d been working toward this goal for years. Since the age of seven or eight, she’d been brainwashing her parents from all angles, and thanks to a bit of luck and good timing, she’d successfully dragged things out until she was eighteen—a “leftover lady” by this era’s standards.
She’d been planning to delay a few more years, and once her little brother was grown, she could find a way to become a wealthy laywoman and live out her dream. Who would’ve thought that one sleep later, she’d be hit by a bolt from the blue and realize she was a fated villainess in a plot-heavy romance novel?
It caught her completely off guard, throwing her into a panic. She made one mistake after another—even doing something as stupid as going to stake out Dragon-AoTian’s hometown in person.
Thankfully, she hadn’t run into Dragon-AoTian himself.
And good thing she hadn’t.
Otherwise, she never would’ve come up with this plan.
Looking at the beautiful man beside her—quiet, gazing at the scenery like a painting—Mu Qing felt very satisfied.
Come on, choosing a husband with looks and presence like this—no one could say she lacked taste. Add the life-saving favor, a trope even the original Dragon-AoTian used, and even her father wouldn’t be able to poke holes in this marriage.
It might’ve been a desperate move, but Mu Qing still felt her chances of success were high.
Especially since, when the contract ended, she and this handsome young man could simply go their separate ways, happily and peacefully. A few arrangements later, and she’d be free to live her rich single life.
She’d already been married—married to someone wonderful, no less.
Now she was single again, ready to leave worldly desires behind and live like a monk—wasn’t that perfectly reasonable?
With just one clever maneuver, all her dreams would come true. It was a win-win, no exaggeration.
Just thinking about it made Mu Qing want to laugh in her sleep. Even her seasickness didn’t feel so unbearable anymore.
Of course, she was still seasick.
But with only a few hundred li left by water to their destination, she could grit her teeth and endure it.
As Mu Qing was basking in her triumph, a large wave rocked the boat violently, and the resulting jolt instantly triggered her seasickness.
Feeling nausea rising from her chest, her face went pale and she leaned out the window, dry heaving. When she turned back around, she found—at some unknown point—her “husband” had come over.
His finely shaped brows furrowed slightly as he held out a bowl of lightly salted water—not by hand, but via a wooden tray. “Your maid sent this for you.”
Mu Qing, well aware of his aversion to physical contact, wasn’t offended. She took the bowl herself, rinsed her mouth, returned it to the tray, and slumped against the window for a moment before weakly thanking him. “Thank you, husband, for going to the trouble. You’re so good to me.”
Compliment barrage: initiated.
This was a habit Mu Qing had consciously developed—after all, to fool her parents, she had to fool herself first. This was the man she had chosen and adored. If she came off too distant, it wouldn’t sell the illusion. She needed to train herself to display natural, easy affection.
Although she’d already said as much before, hearing her say it out of the blue still made Chu Yu pause slightly. He brushed away the goosebumps forming on his arms and replied blandly, “There’s no need for thanks.”
His face remained calm and composed, but inwardly he was gritting his teeth. This woman is a master actor. Saying things so sweetly, but wasn’t she the one who insisted he “must learn to act like a loving husband”? So of course he had to do it.
Still, seeing how bad her seasickness was, he couldn’t help feeling a little sympathy. Once she’d rinsed her mouth, he even offered, “If the nausea is too much, I do know a method. You could give it a try.”
Mu Qing perked up immediately, grabbing his hand. “Husband, if you can save me, I’ll never forget it—I’ll devote my life to repaying you… Oh, I mean, return the favor!”
Touchy again?
And what was that about “devoting her life” and “returning the favor”… such nonsense—had she never studied proper books?
Chu Yu’s brow twitched. He wanted to shake her off, but seeing how pale she looked, he hesitated and held back.
Though he wasn’t a physician, Chu Yu had studied martial arts for years and was familiar with acupuncture points and meridians. He couldn’t cure her, but easing her discomfort? That was manageable.
Besides, considering how she’d unwittingly helped him out of a tight spot, lending her a hand now was the least he could do.
After a moment’s thought, he took advantage of her current posture and reached out with his free hand to press and massage several acupoints on her wrist. When he saw the color returning to her cheeks, he let go and subtly pulled his other hand free from her grasp.
Mu Qing didn’t even notice.
Her full attention had shifted to his technique—she knew her “husband” knew martial arts. Not the exaggerated, wire-fu kind, but real skills. He could fight and win.
Having seen him in action firsthand, Mu Qing had to admit—he looked especially handsome when fighting. At the time, she hadn’t been in the mood to appreciate it.
When your life’s on the line, admiring beauty isn’t exactly a priority.
But in hindsight? The memory was quite vivid… and thrilling. Her husband was truly formidable—easily taking on multiple opponents at once.
She’d known that from watching the fight, but it wasn’t until now that she truly felt it.
Watching him casually massage her wrist and seeing her nausea and bloating subside like magic, Mu Qing was genuinely impressed.
“Husband, you’re amazing. What kind of technique is that? I’m really not nauseous anymore!”
She’d read that the key to any relationship was “giving sincere compliments without hesitation.” So, she figured—she’d be the one to do it.
At first, it was a little embarrassing, but the more she did it, the more natural it became.
Of course, she could tell her husband wasn’t quite used to it yet, but that was fine. One of them could carry the emotional weight. Besides, his beauty alone was already enough of a contribution—who needed more?
He just needed to be a quiet, beautiful man.
She would gladly play the role of the chatty, chaotic one.
After all, it was just for a year. Happy or not, the days would pass. If they could joke and laugh through it all, then putting up with a little awkwardness would be worth it.
