Chapter 29: Is She Telling the Truth?

Gan Qiongying didn’t notice his gaze. She released the door, gently cradled his hand, and looked at the wound on his palm. “Does it hurt?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.

This was the second time Gan Qiongying had asked him if he was in pain. The first time was after he had bitten his tongue.

Lihua stared intently at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Gan Qiongying continued, “Husband, even if you’re angry with me… your body, hair, and skin are gifts from your parents. How can you harm yourself so carelessly?”

Lihua’s brow twitched violently. He quickly pulled his hand back, his entire demeanor radiating the embarrassment of someone backed into a corner. She had seen through his self-inflicted injury so easily, leaving him feeling utterly ashamed.

He lowered his head, his eyes downcast. He didn’t know what Gan Qiongying would think of him now, nor did he know how to interact with her or how to explain or justify himself.

Noticing his ears rapidly turning red and his evasive gaze, Gan Qiongying thought she had misspoken.

The saying “your body, hair, and skin are gifts from your parents” might dissuade most people from self-harm, but it didn’t apply to Lihua.

If Gan Qiongying’s guess was correct, Lihua was the one abandoned by his parents. If even his own parents hadn’t cherished their flesh and blood, her words would sound hollow and hypocritical in his presence.

“I just… feel the pain for you,” Gan Qiongying added awkwardly, trying to salvage the situation. “Your tongue, your palm—it must hurt so much. Please don’t do this again.”

“If you don’t like something, if you’re unhappy, if you don’t want something, just say it,” Gan Qiongying said. “I’ll listen to you.” My God of Wealth.

Lihua stood there silently, his eyes lowered, like a stone door god. Though his expression remained unchanged, his entire being seemed shrouded in gloom.

He, too, was reminded of his parents, but he found it all laughable.

What was most absurd was that the first person in his life to care about his pain, his happiness, and his desires was the very one who had inflicted countless wounds and humiliations upon him.

Lihua was torn between indulgence and resentment, pulled apart by these two conflicting emotions. He felt as though he were being torn to shreds, and he even began to resent Gan Qiongying.

Why did she have to change? If she had remained as she was before, he wouldn’t have developed any expectations. If there had only been hatred between them, he could have acted decisively, without hesitation or concern.

But why did she have to become like this?

Why had she suddenly changed?

Lihua slowly raised his eyes, a storm brewing deep within them. He wanted to ask her outright, “Why have you suddenly become like this?”

But in the end, he didn’t voice the question. Gan Qiongying tugged at his sleeve and pulled him into the room.

She pressed him down to sit, then moved a chair close to him and sat beside him.

She continued, “You have to promise not to harm yourself again. You have no idea how important you are to me.”

These words sounded like coaxing, but they were, in fact, her only truth.

The man before her was her shield in the plot, the God of Wealth who gave her two hundred thousand taels of silver every month.

His hands were meant to handle mountains of gold and silver—how could they be injured!

Moreover, Gan Qiongying had discovered another weakness of Lihua’s: not only was he unable to handle kindness from others, but he also craved their concern.

For Gan Qiongying, showing kindness was simple, and expressing care came naturally.

Thinking of the two hundred thousand taels Lihua gave her every month, it was just like those jokes she used to see online—if a husband gave tens of millions every month, taking care of his mistress during her postpartum confinement would be a given.

Gan Qiongying softened into a puddle of water before him, sweet words flowing out like they cost nothing.

Lihua listened, his ears numb and his body stiff.

In the dead of night, before the Imperial Physician could even return to the Imperial Medical Bureau, he was fetched back by a carriage sent from the Princess Manor.

The Imperial Physician, surnamed Zhuang, was a veteran of the Imperial Medical Bureau. He usually only treated a few palace consorts and the Empress Dowager and rarely made house calls. But who dared defy Princess Duanrong’s orders? Stepping down from the carriage, he discreetly yawned into his sleeve and hurried along with heavy steps, finally arriving in the shortest possible time.

But when he saw the wound on the Consort’s hand, Physician Zhuang briefly doubted for a moment. He even checked various parts of the Consort’s body, but after a thorough examination, he was left bewildered.

Physician Zhuang treated the wound on the hand while glancing at the Consort with suspicion and uncertainty.

Meanwhile, Gan Qiongying anxiously asked whether the cut would have any lasting effects.

“How long will it take to heal?”

“Will it leave a scar? Will it hurt on rainy days?”

“If it leaves a scar in the future, are there any medicines to remove it?”

When Gan Qiongying asked the first question, Physician Zhuang was so shocked that his experienced hand trembled. Had he been urgently summoned just to bandage a wound that looked like it was made by a broomstick?

Lihua felt somewhat ashamed. Though his face remained composed, his ears quietly turned red.

“Please take a good look, Physician,” Gan Qiongying leaned forward and added, “After bandaging the wound, also examine the Consort’s legs.”

“The Consort has always been frail. Are there any tonics to nourish his health?”

“Oh, and the Consort injured his tongue earlier, but he’s been talking these past two days. Could that affect the healing of the wound?”

“What should he pay attention to in his daily diet?”

Physician Zhuang was overwhelmed by the questions, but he dared not show any impatience in front of the notoriously temperamental Princess Duanrong.

So he carefully answered each question in turn.

“The tongue wound is not serious and should not affect his speech in the future. Rest assured, Princess.”

“The Consort’s leg ailment has been present since childhood. A complete cure is no longer possible, but this old minister can prescribe a formula and supplement it with medicinal hot compresses. At the very least, he won’t suffer pain on cloudy or rainy days.”

“The Consort’s frailty is congenital. Medicinal diets can help regulate it. The Consort is young, and as long as gentle nourishment is maintained, it won’t affect his lifespan in the future.”

“However, the Consort’s complexion doesn’t look good. The color of his lips and face differs from that of ordinary people. Based on his pulse, this old minister suspects it may be due to kidney deficiency…”

Finally, as the two of them talked further and further off-topic, even discussing his kidney deficiency and how to nourish his kidneys, Lihua could bear it no longer.

“I’m really fine,” Lihua said through gritted teeth, looking at Gan Qiongying. “It’s getting late. Let the physician return home soon.”

Gan Qiongying didn’t insist further, knowing that his mask hid his expression, and she couldn’t help but smile at the mention of kidney deficiency.

After seeing the physician off, she gently and proactively took Lihua’s hand again, leading him from this room back to the Main Courtyard.

Behind them, the maidservants followed at a distance, the two groups keeping far apart. The maidservants of Gan Qiongying and Lihua, due to previous conflicts, were on very bad terms.

Thus, a group of people watched their master and mistress walking hand in hand under the moonlight in perfect harmony, each wearing strange expressions, scratching their heads in bewilderment.

Gan Qiongying held Lihua’s hand, strolling slowly as if admiring the scenery along the way. Such a harmonious scene had never occurred before.

The lights along the path were dim, and Gan Qiongying deliberately slowed her pace, actually to match the speed of Lihua’s limping gait.

The night breeze gently brushed their faces. Along the way, neither of them spoke, their joined hands swaying slightly, truly looking like a loving couple.

As they passed an arch bridge, Lihua glanced sideways at their reflection in the river. It seemed he had never experienced anything like this before, nor had he ever had someone who could walk side by side with him like this.

He could sense that Gan Qiongying was deliberately accommodating his pace, not dragging him along in a clumsy or stumbling manner.

Ever since Momo passed away, no one had held his hand and walked slowly with him. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be treated gently.

In truth, when he was forced to come to Nánzhào and learned of the plan to marry Princess Duanrong, aside from feeling lost and bewildered, he had also held some expectations for this absurd marriage.

Perhaps… he could have a home.

People always crave what they lack. More than anyone else in this world, he longed for a home, for someone who would say to him, “Let’s go home.”

The stone bridge was soon crossed, and the reflection gradually faded from view. He withdrew his gaze.

Looking at the back of Gan Qiongying’s head, he couldn’t help but wonder, like a madman, at this moment—was what she said true?

Was it true that she would let him deal with her male consorts as he pleased?

Was it true that she cared about his pain and suffering?

Were all those soft, tender words and sweet nothings that made one blush… true?

The two returned to the Main Courtyard. Lihua had already washed up earlier, so Gan Qiongying asked him to wait inside while she went to freshen up.

But when she returned, Lihua was already asleep on the inner side of the bed, something she had anticipated.

Thinking he was asleep, Gan Qiongying climbed into bed quietly, making no sound.

Lihua knew exactly when Gan Qiongying fell asleep and that she had stared at his back for a long time. He was exhausted too, but his eyes remained open, refusing to close for a long time, though he never once turned to look at her.

He was waiting.

When the shift changed outside, a candle in the room flickered with a soft pop, and the breathing of the person beside him grew steadier than before.

Was it almost time?

Gan Qiongying drifted into a hazy sleep. One moment she lay straight, and the next, her hands began to grope around. Her habit of needing to hold something while sleeping at night took over. Finally, she touched Lihua’s back, immediately shifting closer and wrapping her arms around him from behind.

Lihua had expected this, but when the warm hand made contact, he couldn’t help but tremble slightly.

Feeling the warmth spread, Gan Qiongying’s arm draped over his waist, and soon her leg followed, hooking over him. Only then did Lihua slowly close his sore eyelids.

A faint glimmer of light traced the corner of his eye.

He wasn’t crying; he was merely ashamed, even despising his own actions.

But he couldn’t control it.

He had always resisted being touched by others. Over the years, it wasn’t that no one had tried to get close to him, but he would often react excessively, breaking free and keeping them at a distance.

Even San Jiu and Tianjiao, who had served him for many years, had never been allowed near him.

It wasn’t that he despised intimacy with others, but rather that he had an unspeakable quirk.

He longed more than anyone to be embraced, kissed, touched, even forcefully approached.

This had once become an uncontrollable desire, and he was deeply troubled and ashamed by this craving.

At times, he felt almost like a courtesan who had been given too much addictive medication—unable to sleep through the night without someone holding him.

How could he… willingly degrade himself like that?