Chapter 63: C63. "Out of Sight, Out of Mind".

Chapter 63

Despite Cao Xun's quick, almost ruthless gesture of plucking lotus flowers for her, Yunzhu could feel the storm of unspoken anger still simmering inside him—a fury that pushed him to act with such cruel dominance that night.

She had tried to resist, to reason, but his will was unrelenting. Left with no choice, Yunzhu decided she’d settle the score when the time was right, letting her grievance simmer beneath the surface.

Outside, the garden ponds crooned with the low murmur of frogs, their cries swallowed by the stifling weight of Yunzhu’s inner unrest. The summer night was thick and still, but she was oblivious to it all—her turmoil louder than any sound beyond those walls.

It wasn’t until the frogs fell silent, slipping into their own uneasy slumber, that Cao Xun’s harshness finally ebbed. Slowly, he turned her trembling body toward him, gathering her close as though softening the brutality he’d wrought.

Yunzhu melted against him then, a fragile, desperate creature clinging to him as though he were the last piece of driftwood in a vast, drowning sea.

Cao Xun’s eyes traced the shadows that danced across the ceiling, his breathing gradually falling in time with hers, slowing to something gentle, almost tender.

Her cheek, flushed and damp, nestled into the crook of his neck, while her small, trembling hand lay limp against his chest. With an expression that betrayed far more than he’d ever say aloud, he brushed his fingers through the tangles of her hair, pausing to trace the fluttering line of her closed lashes.

Only when her breathing softened into the calm rhythm of sleep did Cao Xun allow himself to rest, his gaze lingering on her one last time as though to memorize her—vulnerable, undone, and his.

*

Yunzhu stirred awake in the dead of night, around three in the morning, cocooned in a fresh brocade mattress and a set of crisp undergarments—clear signs of Cao Xun’s careful, doting attention while she lay asleep, blissfully unaware.

He could’ve taken more—wanted more, no doubt—but the man still had the patience to pull back, his gentle consideration setting him leagues apart from those arrogant storybook louts who chased their own pleasure without a second thought for their lovers. Cao Xun wasn’t like them; no, his attentiveness lingered even after the passion had cooled.

Still, when her eyes landed on him, Yunzhu shot him a glare sharp enough to cut silk. Whatever sweet gestures he’d offered didn’t mean he was off the hook.

Cao Xun, who’d apparently indulged himself with a day tucked away in the study, grinned like the devil himself, all lazy charm as she woke. "Morning," he drawled with mock innocence, his dark eyes sweeping over her refreshed figure. "I’ve been waiting for an hour and a half. Someone must’ve really needed their beauty sleep."

Yunzhu, still half-dreamy and blinking away the haze of slumber, let out a soft, teasing chuckle. "Don’t you start. Who kept me up until then, hmm? You’ve got some nerve."

Cao Xun’s smile turned sly, his gaze drifting to the tell-tale wrinkles in the sheets. "Maybe someone was too enraptured by stimulating conversation…"

Her hand shot out in a playful slap against his arm, though the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. "Shameless," she muttered, brushing past him with a swish of her skirts, her teasing grin a promise of more to come.

By the time breakfast arrived, Yunzhu noticed something—two sets of bowls and chopsticks. He’d waited for her. The little detail warmed her more than she cared to admit. They sat across from one another, the morning unfolding with easy banter and unhurried conversation.

Cao Xun broke the news first, his tone casual but carrying just enough gravity to show he’d been thinking of her. "I checked in about your father’s injury earlier. He’s recovering nicely—no fever, no dangerous signs these past two days."

Yunzhu glanced at him, arching a brow. "Oh? I see you’ve managed to preserve a shred of filial piety as a son-in-law."

He countered smoothly, his voice low and certain. "It’s not about filial piety. I just don’t want you worrying yourself sick over him."

Her lips curved faintly as she spooned another mouthful of porridge, the soft smile speaking louder than words.

The conversation drifted easily to domestic matters, lingering in the kind of comfort that comes only after a night of shared closeness. But Cao Xun’s sharp eye didn’t miss a thing, and after breakfast, his voice took on a new edge of curiosity. "I heard from Uncle Zhang that the Empress summoned you to the palace yesterday afternoon?"

Yunzhu nodded, unconcerned. "Yes. She seemed worried I’d be upset with you, of all things. Spoke quite favorably of you, in fact, and gifted me some rather fine satin as a peace offering."

Cao Xun took the information in stride, though his focus was unmistakable.

Seeing the way his eyes lingered, how his mind ticked behind that calm, handsome exterior, Yunzhu’s smile turned knowing—sweet, sharp, and just a touch provocative. "You’re dying to know about the Emperor sending me off in his personal chariot, aren’t you?"

The palace’s golden walls had a way of turning whispers into echoes, magnifying secrets until they danced on everyone’s tongues by morning. The truth had a way of surfacing, no matter how ambitious the scheme.

Cao Xun didn’t deny it, didn’t bother pretending otherwise. His silence, paired with that unrelenting gaze, said everything.

And Yunzhu, for all her teasing, couldn’t resist pushing him further, that glimmer of amusement flickering brighter in her eyes. She’d keep him guessing, for now. After all, they both knew how this dance went.

Yunzhu’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she leaned back, a slow smirk playing at her lips. “You think I looked distressed then? Hardly. That chariot was the Emperor’s way of showing respect for the Duke’s mansion—and nothing more.”

Cao Xun tilted his head slightly, his voice softer, feigning concern. “How are you feeling now? Should I call for a doctor to take a look at you?”

Her laugh was cold, sharp, and mocking. “Funny how compassion only strikes you now. Where was this benevolence last night when I was teetering on the edge of death? Spare me the act.”

Cao Xun’s tone remained steady, but his words hit their mark. “You should know that it’s unheard of for a relative to request a wife be provided a walking chariot in the palace. You’ve turned heads this time—significantly. The Emperor’s esteem for you is clear. Even if my father-in-law’s influence wanes, no one will dare cross you after this.”

Yunzhu’s eyes narrowed, her voice cutting like a blade. “You’re mistaken if you think I owe any of this to you. If not for the fact that you’re his nephew, I wouldn’t even be in this position.”

Cao Xun’s smile curved subtly, almost imperceptibly, his words laced with provocation. “Even the Emperor’s grandmother has never been granted such treatment.”

Her patience snapped. Yunzhu’s expression turned icy as her gaze bore into his. “Enough with your games. What exactly are you trying to say?”

Still composed, Cao Xun pressed on, his voice calm, deliberate, and dangerously smooth. “Tell me—how familiar are you with Emperor Liang Wen?”

At the mention of the notorious ruler, Yunzhu’s expression flickered, though her composure barely wavered. As the noble daughter of the Duke of Guo, she had read the accounts. Emperor Liang Wen—infamous for his debauchery and for crossing lines no man of honor should cross, even bedding his own married aunt.

Seeing recognition spark in her eyes, Cao Xun continued with calculated precision. “The current Emperor is young, yes, and perhaps his intentions remain pure. You, however, are far too striking to go unnoticed. Beauty like yours attracts attention—and attention breeds gossip. I’m simply saying this: tread carefully. If you cross paths with the Emperor again, keep your distance. Don’t give anyone cause to put your name in their mouths.”

Yunzhu’s fury flared instantly, her voice a low, venomous hiss. “Are you accusing me of trying to seduce him?”

Cao Xun’s reply was smooth and measured, cutting through her anger. “No. I’m warning you. I fear you may lose yourself in such an environment—let your guard down, forget your place, and blur the lines that must remain clear. I’m advising you before it’s too late.”

For once, there was no smirk, no playful sarcasm in his demeanor. He spoke with unshakable seriousness, his gaze dark and unrelenting. Yunzhu felt the weight of it, as though his words were less warning and more accusation—like he thought her capable of throwing herself at the Emperor, of forsaking every ounce of propriety she’d been raised to uphold.

The insinuation burned through her, rage boiling beneath her calm surface.

How dare he?!

The very idea was an affront, as though he’d already decided she was some reckless, unprincipled woman—one who would use her beauty to entice the Emperor.

Her glare locked onto his, sharp and unforgiving, but behind the fury, Yunzhu could see it—the sharp caution in his piercing eyes. He meant every word. He was warning her—and watching her.

Yunzhu’s realization hit her like a slap—sharp, hot, and impossible to ignore. She remembered her playful flirtations with Cao Xun before they were wed, how her stolen glances with Cao Shao in Nanyuan were noticed—intercepted—by Cao Xun’s ever-watchful gaze.

And yesterday, oh, she couldn’t lie to herself. Sitting in that chariot, watching the stunned faces of palace officials as they bowed and murmured in shock? She’d enjoyed it. Relished it, even. The scene had left a delicious thrill in her veins. She’d let the idea slink into her thoughts—what if she could hold sway over the young emperor? Coax him, charm him, make him step back from challenging her brothers for her sake?

It was a fleeting, sultry little notion—one she hadn’t dared commit to. But it was enough. Enough for Cao Xun to sniff out like a wolf catches a whiff of blood. He always knew—always—what lingered behind her carefully crafted expressions, what simmered beneath the surface of her mind. She hated that. Despised it.

Even worse? Last night. He’d been insufferably eager to please her—her. And yet, now, here he was, cautioning her against seducing others, as though she were the wanton one. As though he wasn’t the same man who spent the night all but worshipping her.

The heat spread across Yunzhu’s face—damning heat. She knew what it looked like, how it painted her cheeks. Red, then pale—flustered, betrayed by her own body. In his eyes, she must’ve been putting on quite the show. She grit her teeth against it.

And after what felt like an eternity, her voice cut through the air like a blade dipped in venom. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll be sure to give it all the consideration it deserves. But perhaps you should spare a word of warning for the emperor, lest another Emperor Liang Wen rise to disgrace this dynasty.”

The chariot, after all, was his gift. If the young emperor had any reservations, she’d be more than happy to teach him a lesson in restraint.

Her scorn was a living thing—twisting across her face, lacing her words like poison. But Cao Xun? Oh, he met her venom with calm, infuriating calm. “Even if he wished to, he wouldn’t have the means. And I strongly advise you to abandon that line of thought altogether.”

Yunzhu’s temper snapped. She stormed off to her chambers and slammed the door behind her with a force that rattled the air.

Cao Xun, unbothered, settled himself on the sofa in the adjoining room, picked up a book—one he’d conveniently left there—and leisurely flipped through its pages. Half an hour passed before he approached her door, rapping his knuckles against it.

“If you’re free today, might I accompany you for a walk through the streets?”

Yunzhu’s sharp, exasperated snort came through the door like a whip. “Why would I? There are men in the streets, aren’t there? I’d hate to accidentally allure them.”

Cao Xun chuckled softly, a sound that made her blood boil further. “Don’t be angry. I know you’re not so easily corrupted.”

Her retort was quick, cutting. “Not corrupted? Isn’t it because I’m so tarnished that you saw fit to warn me about the man supposedly drooling over me?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Who reprimanded you? I merely worry that you, being young and impulsive, might inadvertently bring harm to yourself. I’m simply looking out for you.”

“Whatever you say.” Yunzhu’s tone was cold enough to freeze fire. “I don’t want to see you. Leave!”

But Cao Xun didn’t leave. He stood his ground, unyielding as ever. “I’ll stay here until you’re ready to calm down.”

And with that, he returned to the sofa, resuming his book as though her stormy mood was nothing but a passing breeze.

Inside, Yunzhu stretched across her bed, her anger curling around her like a blanket. She had no intention of letting him see her—none at all. If he wanted to wait, let him wait. It was a battle of wills, and Yunzhu refused to lose.

By noon, Cao Xun had already been gone for half an hour. Without so much as a furrow in her brow, Yunzhu casually instructed the gatekeeper to bolt the small door in the center of the verandah.

Lian Qiao and Shiliu exchanged worried glances, uneasy over the tension crackling between the Duke and his wife. But concern aside, they wouldn’t dare stick their noses where they didn’t belong.

Yunzhu, however, was unbothered. She had no shortage of diversions to occupy her time. She could lose herself in a book, bat a shuttlecock with the maids, or escape to the quiet of the study to practice her calligraphy and painting. The hours trickled by, one soft afternoon light at a time.

Evening came. She ate alone, the room heavy with solitude. After her solitary meal, Yunzhu oversaw every maid as they shut each window securely and bolted the doors. Only then did she retreat to her bedchamber.

Yes, she was furious—there was no denying that. But even her anger offered its own satisfaction. Tomorrow, Cao Xun would march off to the Governor’s Mansion, leaving her to her precious freedom—freedom to move as she pleased in the light of day, and freedom to lock herself away before his inevitable return. If he thought he could waltz back into her good graces, he was gravely mistaken. No, she wouldn’t make it so easy for him.

Deep into the night, she was shaken awake by a knock coming from the adjacent room.

For a moment, she was dazed, her mind foggy with sleep. Then, clarity hit her—of course, it was him. Cao Xun. The master of the household. The gatekeeper wouldn’t dare deny him entry. Neither would Lian Qiao, Shiliu, or any of the others.

She couldn’t blame them. They were merely servants caught between the two of them, pawns forced to placate a man they couldn’t afford to offend.

But she was under no such compulsion.

Yunzhu sat firm, her resolve iron-clad as she refused to open the door.

Cao Xun’s voice drifted through the quiet, cool and composed. “Then I’ll sleep outside and keep watch over you. From now on.”

She didn’t budge, didn’t respond, and let him spend the night out there alone.

The next morning, she deliberately lingered in bed. When Cao Xun left for the Governor’s Mansion, he bid her farewell through the closed door.

Five days passed. Five days where Yunzhu did not see him once.

On the sixth day, the quiet stretched on as she napped in the midafternoon light. That was, until the bed dipped beneath the weight of someone else. Startled, Yunzhu’s eyes flew open, only to find Cao Xun sitting beside her, his crimson official robes unmistakable.

Just five days, yet it felt as though a chasm of time had grown between them. Seeing him now—his handsome face, softened and patient—awoke something unfamiliar within her.

Unwilling to acknowledge it, she turned her back to him, silently dismissing his presence.

Cao Xun’s hand drifted down, fingers brushing over hers where it rested on her abdomen. He caught it gently, his voice low, almost helpless. “How long do you plan to stay angry?”

She said nothing.

He tried again. “I was too harsh with my words that day, I admit it. But don’t tell me you didn’t feel even a flicker of pride sitting in that chariot.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, stubbornly sealed.

Cao Xun shifted closer, his lips brushing the center of her palm in a kiss that sent a ripple of heat up her spine. “Yunzhu,” he murmured, voice rough yet tender, “I know you better than you think. I’d rather risk your anger a thousand times than see you suffer in silence one day, shedding tears alone—without me by your side.”

Yunzhu nearly let out a scornful laugh, ready to spit out that she’d never shed tears for him. Never. Not now, not ever.

But she hesitated. Even her own indignation faltered, caught in the quiet truth between them.

After enduring his ruthless questioning and stern warnings, why didn’t she run straight to the comfort of her parents' home?

Her older and younger brothers were tangled in their own struggles, and her father—proud to the point of self-destruction—would rather break himself than face the wrath of that merciless emperor.

No matter how brave or defiant Yunzhu tried to appear, the truth was suffocating. The once-mighty fortress of her family, her shield, was now battered and crumbling under the weight of an unrelenting storm. And in this chaos, there was only one man capable of holding her world together—Cao Xun. A man whose strength and stability were forged through years of bloodshed and victories, a foundation so deeply rooted it stood tall amid the ruins.

Because when a real husband is dependable, who would dare go looking for sanctuary elsewhere?

Her chest tightened with pain, and she squeezed her eyes shut, a soft, strangled sob escaping her lips.

Without hesitation, Cao Xun pulled her into his arms, a reflex as natural as breathing.

Yunzhu struck him in protest, her voice sharp and tremulous. “Who said you could touch me like that?”

But Cao Xun, unbothered and unrelenting, caught her hand and brushed his lips gently against her cheek. “Say what you like, Yunzhu. I will hold you as I please. Even if it means letting those official documents pile up to the ceiling.”