Wei Xunzhou knew neither, and his expression showed…
Ever since Di Yao fainted and slept for a few days on Grain Rain day, Meng Po had specially required Di Yao to take a day off after every three days of work. This way, she could rest well, enjoy life here more, and take better care of her small vegetable garden.
On usual days off, Di Yao slept in until she naturally woke up. But today was different. Before dawn had fully broken, she sat bolt upright in bed and looked at Wei Xunzhou beside her. Normally, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and rarely woke up earlier than him, so she seldom saw his sleeping face.
If her first impression of Wei Xunzhou after her amnesia was unfamiliarity, then her second was his unattainably refined aloofness. But now, they were no longer strangers. Di Yao inwardly overturned her earlier bias, thinking that Wei Xunzhou was just a man of few words—when he did speak, it was all cold, blunt truths—but in reality, he was easy to get along with, a clear case of a tough exterior and a soft heart.
The lantern that stayed lit all night in the backyard, the stove and stone mill now used daily… With more tools and odds and ends accumulating, the small courtyard made Di Yao feel more grounded and content.
Yet she always felt that this home lacked a certain trivial, cozy happiness of everyday life. Whenever arguments occurred at home, it was always between her and Xibian, while Wei Xunzhou remained an onlooker. Di Yao sensed that there was still something separating him from this home.
With only two people and a dog, life could easily get dull, and Wei Xunzhou’s personality didn’t help. So Di Yao decided to stir things up a bit. She grabbed his arm and shook it. “Husband, time to get up…” Her voice carried a lazy nasal tone, drawing out the last syllable almost like a coaxing plea.
Wei Xunzhou had woken up the moment Di Yao sat up in bed. He was a light sleeper, and her focused gaze earlier had been palpable, making it impossible for him not to wake. Usually, they each slept their own way without disturbing the other. But today… was it some special day? The first day of the fifth month—the day when all underworld officials and kings of the ten palaces reported on the previous month’s work.
He opened his eyes, his pupils slowly focusing. Suddenly, Di Yao’s bright smiling face filled his vision, making everything seem brighter, almost too bright to bear. He turned his face away and sat up, propping himself on the bed. “Is something the matter?” As he rose, he noticed his undergarment was loose, the belt untied. He subtly pulled the blanket higher and clutched the opening of his clothes tightly beneath it.
Di Yao, unaware of his inner awkwardness, knelt on the bed, hands on her legs, shoulders slightly hunched. She cleared her throat solemnly and invited him: “Husband, how about we make dumplings together later?”
Wei Xunzhou hadn’t expected her to make such a big deal out of something so trivial and was momentarily stunned. “Dumplings?” Though he had lived in the mortal world, he didn’t eat them often. But he knew Di Yao loved them.
“Yes, yes! We still have some mushrooms and wild vegetables at home, and they won’t stay fresh much longer. Plus, we’ve been eating boiled greens for a while. Let’s make dumplings!” Seeing Wei Xunzhou silently lower his head, she shook his arm again. “Please?”
He was about to refuse, but when he saw the pleading in her moist eyes, he paused. These days, he had been staying home a lot, and Di Yao might have gotten the wrong idea that he had nothing to do. He knew she wanted him to be more active. “Alright.” After some inner conflict, he gave in.
With his agreement, Di Yao jumped out of bed and headed to the kitchen to prepare. She first ground some fresh flour, then washed and diced the vegetables, stir-frying them. While she was kneading the dough, Wei Xunzhou came over. Everything else was ready; only the dough was needed. He looked at the uniformly diced mushrooms and wild vegetables in the bowl, then at Di Yao’s hands working the dough. It was clear that the daughter of the Capital City’s wealthiest family actually knew how to cook.
Di Yao added water every so often while kneading, then more flour if it got too wet, until she had a smooth, cream-colored dough. She took it out of the bowl, placed it on the worktable, and rolled it into a long, even strip.
Just then, her arm band loosened, and her sleeve slipped down her fair arm, getting in the way. Wei Xunzhou stepped forward to help tie it, but when he saw the knot was at the side of her chest, he abandoned the idea. “Let me,” he said, nudging her aside and starting to knead the dough himself, imitating her earlier movements.
Di Yao was surprised he had taken the initiative. After retying her arm band, she came closer to watch him intently. “I didn’t expect you to catch on so quickly. Though it looks simple, kneading dough is actually a skill.” Noticing a bit of flour on his sleeve, she realized he wasn’t wearing an arm band, so she went to fetch one. She deliberately chose a cyan one and held it up against his black clothes, thinking the color suited him. “Husband, raise your arm for a moment.”
Wei Xunzhou complied. Di Yao rolled up his sleeve, slid the arm band onto his left arm, then circled behind him to the right, arranging his sleeve before reaching around to tie a knot just below his shoulder, standing on tiptoe. From the straightforward sleeve-rolling to the tying, everything happened so abruptly that Wei Xunzhou was taken aback.
After finishing, Di Yao patted the flour off his sleeve and stepped back to admire her work. The light cyan arm band stood out against his black robe; it didn’t clash, but it was a side of him she had never seen. It seemed the arm band didn’t just hold up his wide sleeves but also lifted some of his innate indifference and reserve, making him look more “alive.”
“Looks great!” She proudly planted her hands on her hips. Without a word, Wei Xunzhou stepped back two paces to give her room.
The dough had been shaped into a long strip; next was cutting it into pieces. After cutting, Di Yao brought the bowl of filling to the table and let Wei Xunzhou choose. “Husband, would you like to wrap the dumplings or roll the wrappers?”
Wei Xunzhou knew neither, and his expression looked a bit lost. Di Yao understood and asked him to roll wrappers. She went out to fetch two chairs, but when she returned, he was still holding the rolling pin, eyeing the dough pieces as if facing a formidable enemy, waving the pin in the air without knowing where to start. Di Yao found the scene oddly comical and couldn’t help but cover her mouth and laugh. When he turned to stare at her, she stifled her laughter, took the rolling pin, and demonstrated for him.
Rolling wrappers was simple, and Wei Xunzhou caught on quickly. Soon, Di Yao couldn’t keep up with his speed. Seeing his natural talent, she felt a competitive urge and tried to distract him with conversation to slow him down. He responded occasionally, and they chatted amicably.
Just then, Xibian’s loud barking came from outside. Both of them paused and exchanged a knowing look. Di Yao got up, washed her hands, dried them on her apron, and went to check. Seeing Xibian staring fixedly at the door with an unusually fierce expression, she sensed trouble.
The person outside, hearing no response, knocked again and called, “Open up! I know someone’s inside.”
Di Yao clenched her hands together and asked, “Who are you, and what do you want?”
After a brief silence, the voice replied, “Yinlv Division investigating a case. Open the door!”
Hearing it was the Yinlv Division, Di Yao frowned, racking her brain but coming up with nothing she might have done wrong. She turned to look toward the kitchen; Wei Xunzhou had already washed his hands and come out. She was about to open the door, but he beat her to it.
Outside stood two rows of Ghost Messengers, led by Judge Cui Jue. Neighbors had also come out to see the commotion. Not expecting a man inside, the people outside were clearly startled.
Cui Jue stepped back from the threshold, glanced at the plaque hanging on the fence, then looked at Wei Xunzhou. “You are…” He rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
Wei Xunzhou’s expression was stern, his lips pressed tight. He was about to speak and cut off Cui Jue when Di Yao interrupted. “Lord Judge, he’s my husband. Everything said just now was by me—don’t misunderstand!” She hugged Wei Xunzhou’s arm and smiled at Cui Jue.
Perhaps because of her light and humorous tone, many Ghost Messengers behind Cui Jue were suppressing laughter.
“Husband?” Cui Jue pulled out his Soul-Hooking Brush to scratch his head, then looked at Wei Xunzhou again. Di Yao saw his expression turn very strange and became nervous, but soon it returned to normal. “Oh, fine.” He extended his hand, and an attendant placed a document in it. Cui Jue opened it, glanced over it, and stepped into the courtyard.
Di Yao followed him, probing, “Lord Judge, what brings you here today? Could there be a mistake or some misunderstanding?”
Cui Jue surveyed the odds and ends scattered around the yard, his tone official. “The Yinlv Division received an anonymous report today that someone in Wrongful Death City is illegally making fire for cooking. Coincidentally, the address in the report is exactly this place. I ask you: is the content of this report true or not?”
As soon as he finished, the neighbors outside began murmuring in disbelief. “Really? That can’t be!” “Cooking? You can’t even get a sip of water here—how could anyone cook?”
Di Yao had heard Meng Po mention many underworld regulations, and she froze, sensing trouble but still trying to cover it up. “Huh? Really? That’s not right… Is there some misunderstanding?”
Cui Jue clearly didn’t believe her. His gaze shifted to the kitchen, and he strode over, taking in everything inside. “No? Then what are these?”
Di Yao had no explanation. Seeing that Cui Jue wasn’t easily fooled, he turned and pushed open the side room door, revealing bags of grain inside.