"Husband, we've been together for so long, and I still haven't..."
The more Di Yao thought about it, the more something felt off. Given how cold and aloof Wei Xunzhou had been toward her at first, she didn't think there was any affection between them. Since there was no affection, how could she have embroidered a sachet for him? Or could it be that this Shouyan was someone else? The more she pondered, the more plausible it seemed.
"Could it be that Shouyan was a man I loved before I died, but I had to marry someone else, so we couldn't be together? Yet I couldn't let him go, so I kept this sachet I'd embroidered but never given him as a keepsake?" That would explain everything. But why did she feel increasingly guilty?
Di Yao felt her heart racing. She steadied herself with a hand on her chest and sat down slowly, pouring herself a cup of cold tea. Suddenly, the door was pushed open from outside. Startled, she nearly dropped the cup.
Wei Xunzhou entered to find Di Yao frantically wiping water off the table with her sleeve. He lowered his gaze, fetched a cloth from the rack, walked over, took her wrist, and held her hand in the air while he cleaned the water.
Noticing white powder on Wei Xunzhou's sleeve, Di Yao remembered she hadn't told him she wasn't hungry tonight. "Husband, did you go cook in the kitchen?" she asked softly, embarrassed.
Before she could explain, Wei Xunzhou replied flatly, "Mm." Guilt over the man named Shouyan already gnawing at her, she felt even worse now.
Seeing her dazed, he assumed she was still groggy from her nap and went to fetch the soup from the kitchen into the room. Only then did Di Yao realize it was already dark—she'd slept the whole afternoon. Watching him approach, she tightened her grip on the sachet. She couldn't let him know about it until she figured things out.
He must have made the noodle soup earlier; he'd even put a lid on the stew pot. Besides the soup, there was a mushroom stir-fry—the usual fare at home. Since Di Yao usually cooked with Wei Xunzhou as her assistant, she didn't have high expectations for his cooking—after all, even a clever housewife can't cook without ingredients, and sometimes even her own dishes weren't great.
After he sat down, she eagerly lifted the lid. As the steam cleared, she noticed today's soup looked different. "What's this?" She stirred with a spoon—pale yellow bits mingled in the soup. "That looks like egg!" She sniffed and caught a faint, fresh egg aroma. She ladled some into her bowl and tasted it. The egg soup was neither too thick nor too thin, warming her stomach instantly. "Mmm, delicious!" She downed it and immediately ladled another bowl.
Glancing at Wei Xunzhou sitting upright, she set down her bowl and filled one for him. "Husband, try it. It's really good. By the way, where did you get the eggs?" She was tired of having plain noodle soup every day, but there wasn't much else available.
"Yuanbao laid them," Wei Xunzhou said calmly, taking a sip of his soup. His words nearly made Di Yao's jaw drop.
"Yuanbao? But it just hatched! There's no way it can lay eggs yet." Seeing his expression was serious, not joking, she put down her bowl and went to find Yuanbao. Just yesterday, the chick had only been a bit bigger than her palm.
Apart from the first day when Xibian got excited seeing Yuanbao and seemed hostile, the dog and chicken had grown increasingly friendly. Bored, Xibian would even seek out Yuanbao to play. Di Yao had put Yuanbao's nest in the side room where Xibian stayed. As soon as she reached the door, she heard a rare bark from Xibian.
Pushing the door open, she saw Xibian and a golden-feathered hen stationed at opposite ends of the room. Xibian leaned forward, tail wagging lightly, while a drastically changed Yuanbao stared with round eyes, neck extended, and wings slightly spread. They were locked in a stalemate, the atmosphere tense. Xibian occasionally lunged to snap at Yuanbao. When Xibian saw Di Yao, he got visibly excited, wagging his tail furiously.
It wasn't Xibian's fault—even Di Yao barely recognized Yuanbao. "Yuanbao, how did you get so big all of a sudden?" She patted Xibian's head, then picked up Yuanbao. Fortunately, the chicken still remembered her and stayed docile.
Wei Xunzhou, well-traveled and knowledgeable, explained that the Underworld was rich in spiritual energy, which could accelerate the growth of living beings. Thus, life didn't rely solely on seasons—the wheat in the backyard could go from sprouting to maturity in half a month. Di Yao had no choice but to believe him. That night, lying in bed, she marveled at the Underworld's wonders.
She'd had a big appetite at dinner, drinking most of the soup, and praised Wei Xunzhou's cooking repeatedly. After he shut her down, she fell quiet—but not for long. Pointing at him, she said, "Hey, husband, your ears look red." Whether she was oblivious or teasing him was unclear. Wei Xunzhou just shot her a warning look and piled a big heap of mushrooms onto her bun.
After dinner, Wei Xunzhou did the dishes. Di Yao closed the door and took out the sachet again. Since she'd slept all afternoon, she wasn't sleepy at all. The meal had improved her mood somewhat. She was starting to accept that her parents were gone, but a question lingered in her mind. Her earlier conjectures were just guesses—she needed to verify.
"Husband, how often does Yuanbao lay eggs?" She was lying on her stomach on the bed, her feet swaying in the air.
Wei Xunzhou took off his outer robe. "Don't know." "Okay," Di Yao said, resting her chin on her hands. "No matter, at least we'll have eggs now." She kept chatting. "Hey, did you feed Yuanbao today?" "Yes." Wei Xunzhou seemed in a good mood; he answered each question. Di Yao said "Good" and chuckled, then continued: "Husband, Xibian didn't bully Yuanbao, did he? Should we separate them?" "No. No need." "Oh, husband, I think I forgot to lock the storeroom!" She sat up abruptly, looking at him. "Already locked."
The exchange went on—one lively, the other flat—the topics increasingly trivial. Di Yao had planned to irk him by saying "husband" repeatedly, then apologize and casually ask about his courtesy name. But Wei Xunzhou was unusually patient; she got annoyed with herself before he did. Finally, she switched tactics.
"Husband, we've been together so long, and I've never heard you say my name." Wei Xunzhou's gaze flickered, and he was silent for a long time, as if pondering why her train of thought had taken such a sharp turn. Before he could speak, Di Yao offered an out: "If my name is hard to say, you can use my childhood name. Wait... have I told you my childhood name?" He paused, looking at the book in his hand. "Childhood name?" "It's Momo—'ink' character. Easy to pronounce, right?"
At her words, Wei Xunzhou frowned deeply. His fingertips brushed the repeated characters "Momo" on the page. "There, I've told you my childhood name. As a trade, shouldn't you tell me your courtesy name?" She asked casually, but inside she was focused.
Wei Xunzhou's fingertips pressed harder, veins on his hand more visible in the warm light. He pursed his lips, about to find an excuse, but she saw through him. She grabbed his hand and shook it, refusing to let go. "Husband, just tell me!" She was playful and cheerful, even when cajoling. At that moment, he felt as if she was teasing him; his face flushed.
It seemed she suspected something. Memories of the past flashed through his mind. After a brief internal struggle, he pried her hand away and got off the bed. His loose robe hung on him, the black silk draping to reveal his perfect physique. Di Yao was startled for a moment, then looked away. "You're no fun, husband," she pouted, hugging her pillow and starting to lie down.
Just then, Wei Xunzhou spoke. "Ziyuan." He looked at the back of her head, his expression flat, his tone stiff. He said it only once, and when she didn't react, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
But Di Yao, pretending to sulk, had been listening intently. As he climbed back into bed, she called out deliberately, "Wei Ziyuan." He paused mid-motion and turned to look at her. "It sounds really nice," she said, her voice suddenly clear. He watched as she popped out from under the covers again, propping herself on her elbows to look at him earnestly. His Adam's apple bobbed.
"I'll give myself a new childhood name. How about 'Manman'?" "Manman..." He mouthed the word softly. Di Yao was delighted with her new name and kept repeating it. As she repeated it, a sense of clarity washed over her—"Momo" on the sachet must have been her, because it felt like her style.
Wei Xunzhou naturally understood the implication of her new name. Admittedly, when he heard it, his breath caught. "It's okay," he said, quickly returning to a cool demeanor.
Di Yao knew that "okay" from him meant "not good." She wasn't upset. Humbly, she asked, "Then, Ziyuan, why don't you pick a better one for me?" "It's your own name. You can call yourself whatever you want," he said, blowing out the candle and lying down.
Staring at the glowing ember of the wick, she said, "How about Zhaozhao?" He turned his head toward her silhouette in the darkness. "Good."
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Author's note: Wishing all students taking exams success on their first try! [Scattering flowers]