Becoming the Cannon Fodder Wife of Crazy and Powerful Official - Chapter 22

Xin Yueying tilted her head, her eyes filled with puzzlement as she looked at Shen Qingqi. “Why aren’t you coming in?”

He suddenly snapped out of his daze.

“Where’s that Xie Asheng?” she asked.

“He said he lost something and went back to look for it,” Shen Qingqi replied, averting his gaze.

Xin Yueying stood up as if to go outside. Shen Qingqi turned his wheelchair slightly, lowering his head as they passed each other. She ran to the water vat in the courtyard, peering at her reflection in the still water.

Almost as if drawn by some unseen force, Shen Qingqi followed, wheeling himself out behind her.

His gaze remained fixed on her. Dressed in soft yellow robes, her figure appeared slender and lovely under the brilliant starlight. A peach blossom hairpin sat askew in her dark hair, with loose strands dancing playfully in the breeze.

As she admired her reflection in the water, a light, cheerful smile suddenly graced her lips. “It looks beautiful! This color really brightens my complexion! And the peach blossom hairpin is lovely too!”

Seemingly pleased with what she saw, she turned around—only to unexpectedly meet a pair of intensely burning eyes.

Shen Qingqi stared at her unwaveringly. Behind her stretched rolling green mountains, a bright moon hanging high, and a sky full of stars—yet all of nature seemed to blur into insignificance. Instinctively, all he wanted was to walk up to her.

At this thought, his hand unconsciously pressed against his knee.

Lowering his eyes, he looked at his legs, then at the wheelchair that would forever confine him. The light in his eyes gradually dimmed.

Noticing Shen Qingqi’s subtle change, Xin Yueying asked, “Is your knee hurting?”

He shook his head.

Xin Yueying tilted her head again, causing a loose strand of her cloud-like black hair to come undone. She hastily reached up to catch the slipping peach blossom hairpin.

Shen Qingqi looked up again, watching her quietly this time.

Xin Yueying walked up to him, offering a somewhat embarrassed smile. “I’m not very good at putting my hair up. Do you know how?”

Shen Qingqi shook his head.

“You don’t???” She pointed at the neatly tied bun atop his head. “Then how do you do yours?”

Shen Qingqi looked up at Xin Yueying, slightly surprised. “This is a man’s hairstyle.”

Xin Yueying waved her hand dismissively. “Same same, no difference,” she declared, then squatted down in front of him. “Help me with mine,” she said.

Shen Qingqi showed no intention of complying.

Xin Yueying lifted her head and flashed him an ingratiating smile. “Please? Do me this favor? I’d really appreciate it.”

“No, this is a man’s hairstyle,” he insisted, unmovable as a mountain.

Xin Yueying persisted: “Yours looks so well done, though. Just help me out, okay?”

He still refused to budge.

Xin Yueying, “Then I’ll wait for Huo Qi to come back and have him teach me.”

That got him moving.

Shen Qingqi looked at Xin Yueying helplessly and muttered, “So troublesome.” He straightened up, “Turn around.”

Xin Yueying turned her back.

What she didn’t see was how Shen Qingqi’s fingers, with their distinct knuckles, paused momentarily behind her. He handled her raven-black hair as if touching a piece of exquisite jade porcelain, with the utmost care and reverence.

The moment his fingertips touched her soft tresses, his eyes filled with undisguised tenderness.

Meticulously, he gathered her hair and styled it into a neat bun atop her head. Taking the peach blossom hairpin from her hand, he secured it horizontally through the bun.

Xin Yueying turned back, feeling the perfectly arranged hairstyle, and asked him, “How does it look?”

Shen Qingqi, “Like a Daoist nun.”

“Haha!” Laughing like blooming flowers, she went back to the water vat to examine her reflection more carefully.

Unconsciously, the corners of Shen Qingqi’s lips lifted slightly in response.

Before long, Huo Qi returned from afar, dragging several bamboo poles behind him. Sweat poured down his face as he collapsed in the courtyard, “Exhausted!” Noticing Xin Yueying’s hairstyle, he asked, “Why’d you do your hair like a Daoist nun? Planning to cultivate immortality or something?”

Xin Yueying shot him a glare.

Wiping his sweat, Huo Qi continued, “When I went down the mountain to get bamboo, I saw Miss Meng talking with a man. Didn’t get a good look at his face – just saw his back, but he looked a bit like the guy in our house. Could it be him?”

Xin Yueying’s eyes widened. She instinctively glanced at Shen Qingqi – though he showed no reaction now, who knew what might come later? Moreover, there was no guarantee Meng Ruxin wouldn’t succeed in winning Xie Asheng over.

While Meng Ruxin might be incompetent, Xie Asheng certainly wasn’t. Just considering how he later uncovered the poisoning incident involving Crippled Ma proved his capabilities. This was a formidable ally – after nursing him for so many days until he finally woke up, to just deliver him to the enemy camp? Absolutely not.

Xin Yueying, “Where’s Meng Ruxin? Since she’s here, I just happen to have something to give her.”

She turned to the cabinet, initially taking out a tael of silver before thinking better of it – this was just an excuse after all, no need to actually give money. Settling on a single copper coin, she headed out.

The bamboo grove wasn’t far. Having slept well, she was full of energy and ready for whatever might come.

Soon, she spotted Xie Asheng and Meng Ruxin conversing under a tree.

Xin Yueying crept closer, crouching in the grass to eavesdrop.

Xie Asheng gestured anxiously, “About this big, wrapped in cowhide—have you seen it?”

Ah, so Meng Ruxin has already introduced herself as his savior.

Meng Ruxin, her face veiled in light gauze, replied: “I haven’t. But compared to whatever you lost, you should be more concerned about your own safety.”

“My safety?” Xie Asheng stiffened, instantly alert. “What do you mean?”

Meng Ruxin’s apricot eyes bore into him. “How dare you live under the same roof as that vile woman? She’s terrifying.” She leaned closer. “Has she mistreated you? Bullied you? You can tell me the truth.”

Xie Asheng stared at her, baffled. “Who are you talking about?”

Xin Yueying spat silently into the grass, rolling up her sleeves.

“That Xin woman!”

Xie Asheng laughed. “Impossible. She’s just a woman—and from her posture, no martial artist. How could she threaten me?”

“The deadliest blades are the ones you never see coming.” Meng Ruxin’s voice dropped. “She’s wicked beyond your imagination. Cruel, ruthless—you must be on guard. And she’s two-faced. A friend of mine went to her house… and never returned.”

She covered her face, trembling. “I fear the worst.”

“Surely not?” Xie Asheng studied her. “You’re implying she… killed someone?”

Meng Ruxin lifted her tearful gaze. “I didn’t say that. But the facts speak for themselves.”

“That’s absurd.”

“She’s pure evil.” Meng Ruxin gripped his sleeve. “And please—watch if she schemes against Brother Shen. I worry she has even deceived him. If that witch makes any move, you must warn me. Our lives may depend on it.”

Xin Yueying’s fists clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms.

Vile woman. Wicked witch.

That Meng Ruxin was reciting over and over.

She didn’t notice Shen Qingqi and Huo Qi watching her from afar.

Hidden in his sleeves, Shen Qingqi’s hands turned to iron.

Why did she save Xie Asheng then?
Why follow him now?
Why seethe at their moonlit conversation?

The answer crystallized like frost:

She’s already fallen for him.

His eyes turned glacial.

Without looking at Huo Qi, he spoke,

“Kill Xie Asheng.”