24: The Yandere Warlord's Substitute Bride 24

As General Fu stepped through the mansion gate, an unusual silence enveloped him.

Normally, at this time, his wife, Wen Ci, would be waiting in the veranda, but today, it was empty.

He paused his steps slightly, turned to the butler, and asked in a low voice, “How is Madam today?”

The butler was already accustomed to General Fu’s routine of inquiring about his wife first upon returning home, so he bowed respectfully and said, “Someone from the Wen family came, and Madam… seems to be in low spirits.”

His words were carefully chosen, stopping just short of revealing too much.

A cold glint flashed in General Fu’s eyes, and his thumb unconsciously rubbed the cold gun hilt at his waist.

How dare they displease his wife?

It seemed it was time to properly ask his wife how to “deal with” the Wen family.

If not for his consideration of his wife’s feelings, that woman, Wen Yan… his eyes darkened further.

“Prepare the bath,” he said, turning and walking towards the bathroom, his tone flat.

“Yes.”

Every day upon returning home, General Fu would bathe and change into a clean, moon-white long gown before going to see Wen Ci.

Lately, he particularly loved white, simply because his wife had once said, “It looks good.”

He dried his hair; the figure in the mirror was handsome and distinguished.

Only then, satisfied, did he pick up the freshly arrived lychees, brought by swift horses from the south, and walk towards Wen Ci’s courtyard.

She had tasted them once and said they were delicious.

The courtyard was so quiet that one could hear the sound of wind blowing fallen leaves.

He lightened his steps and looked through the half-open window.

Wen Ci was leaning against the soft couch, her dark hair, like a waterfall, unadorned by hairpins, casually draped over her shoulders.

One hand propped up her chin, her gaze fixed on some point in the void, lost in thought.

General Fu’s heart tightened abruptly.

Normally, at this time, she would be listening to the 咿呀戲文 (traditional opera) from the gramophone or flipping through newly arrived storybooks.

But today, she just sat there so quietly, like a painting that had lost its color.

Even more unusual was that her favorite rose pastries and candied fruits on the small table were untouched, and the crystal grapes in the glazed cup had lost their luster, shriveling up.

A sharp pang of heartache suddenly seized him.

He had once wished he could lock his wife in a gilded cage where only he could see her, but now, seeing her so “obediently” silent, with an lingering sorrow clouding her brows and eyes… his chest felt stifled and painful.

Perhaps, he really should find her some companions, add some liveliness?

“A' Ci,” he pushed the door open, his voice extremely soft, afraid of startling her.

Wen Ci still propped her chin, facing outside the window, and let out a very soft sigh.

That sigh was like a fine needle, instantly piercing General Fu’s composure.

He strode forward, knelt on one knee before the soft couch, his gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses carrying a subtle tension.

His fingertips carefully traced her slightly furrowed brow, and his voice was low, “Did they… make you unhappy?”

Wen Ci shook her head, then suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face deeply into his shoulder, which carried the fresh scent of soap.

General Fu’s muscles tensed instantly.

His wife had never shown such fragile dependence in front of him.

In that instant, the death scenes of everyone in the Wen family played out repeatedly in his mind a thousand times.

Blood surged in his eyes, yet his palm gently patted her back, his words laced with coldness, “Should I go kill them?”

Wen Ci, still buried in his shoulder, continued to shake her head.

General Fu was completely flustered.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice softened even more, “Are you not hungry? I’ll have the kitchen remake something, or… what do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it immediately.”

He paused, placing the bamboo basket of lychees on the small table, “Try the freshly arrived lychees? Perhaps they’ll cheer you up?”

Wen Ci still shook her head.

General Fu’s warm large hand gently pressed on her shoulders, neck, and waist, his voice lowered a few notches, carrying a hint of ambiguous apology, “Then… were you tired last night? I’ll help you rub it, or massage it…” The pressure of his thumb was just right.

Wen Ci finally couldn’t help but let out a very soft, gentle laugh.

This laughter made General Fu even more at a loss, “Or… are you feeling dejected? Bored?”

He suddenly stood up and scooped her up into his arms.

“Come, I’ll take you horseback riding! Or boating on the lake! Anywhere you want to go to clear your mind is fine!” His tone was as decisive as giving orders on the battlefield.

“Husband,” Wen Ci finally looked up at him, her fingertip gently tapping his high-bridged nose, with a hint of teasing, “You are General Fu, a man of a thousand duties, who doesn’t even have time to eat, how did you suddenly become a leisurely rich man?”

General Fu was startled, then his sword-like brows raised, and he said self-righteously, “For my wife, I naturally have all the time in the world!” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were an unalterable truth.

Wen Ci’s heart warmed, like gentle ripples in spring water.

She leaned in and left a light kiss on his well-defined jawline.

“Actually, I was just…” She deliberately drew out her words, her eyes sparkling, “thinking about what to eat tonight.”

General Fu’s taut heartstrings suddenly loosened, and then he deliberately put on a stern face, “You sighed just for that?” His tone carried a hint of annoyance at being “teased.”

“Uh huh,” Wen Ci raised an eyebrow.

He suddenly lowered his head and playfully bit her soft earlobe, his breath hot as he threatened, “If you scare me like that again…”

“What then?” she asked, unafraid.

“I’ll make you…” He whispered close to her ear, the remaining words turning into a low, breathy sound, carrying a heart-pounding implication.

“Hahahaha…” Wen Ci finally laughed heartily, her eyes curving into crescents.

Seeing her smile again, a huge weight lifted from General Fu’s heart, and a strange flash of inspiration suddenly crossed his mind.

He gently set her down, then did something that even Wen Ci hadn’t expected.

“Is Madam happy now?” he looked up at her, his eyes filled with undisguised aggression and anticipation.

“Happy,” she replied with a smile, reaching out to pick up a rose pastry, just as she brought it to her lips—

The man suddenly exerted force!

Wen Ci felt a dizzying spin, her gasp caught in her throat, as she was lifted and held tightly against his chest, face to face.

Her lips, dusted with powdered sugar, were instantly captured fiercely!

General Fu’s breathing was heavy and hot, pressed against her lips, his voice hoarse and domineering, “Madam is happy… now, it’s this husband’s turn.”