Chapter 15
AFTER THE SERVANTS prepared the bedroom for the evening and helped Jiang Suizhou bathe and change into his sleepwear, Jiang Suizhou dismissed them all from the room.
“No need to wait here,” Jiang Suizhou instructed indifferently, lounging on the daybed with a book in one hand. “I’ll read for a while, then retire for the night.”
At that, Meng Qianshan looked at Jiang Suizhou, who appeared aloof and haughty, before glancing at the chamber in the back.
It was where Madam Huo was currently bathing and getting ready for the evening alone.
With a knowing look in his eyes, Meng Qianshan dipped his head and withdrew from the room with the other servants. On his way out, he considerately pulled the door shut for Jiang Suizhou.
The sizable room became very quiet, save for the sound of water coming from the rear chamber.
Everyone else had departed.
Jiang Suizhou exhaled deeply as his entire body relaxed. Tossing aside the book, he slumped onto the daybed.
How miserable. When he first transmigrated here, he’d thought that he would only have to sleep on a daybed for one night, but now he wondered if he’d get the chance to sleep on a real bed ever again.
He began plotting in his head. This just meant that he had to improve Huo Wujiu’s trust in him as quickly as possible, so he could look for an opportunity to kick him out of his room sooner rather than later. Once they were on agreeable terms, he wouldn’t have to worry as much about asking for space.
However, right now, there was nothing he could do. He was destined to sleep on the daybed for a while longer; that much was unavoidable.
Jiang Suizhou collapsed across the daybed with a sigh. All that burning enthusiasm for his bed-reclaiming machinations had been extinguished. Then, resigning himself to his fate, Jiang Suizhou picked up the book and sat upright once more.
He tried to distract himself by reading, but he couldn’t absorb anything. After staring at the same few lines for a minute, he couldn’t help but lower his head and pat the cushion of the daybed underneath him.
Hm… Well, at least the daybed in his own room felt decently comfortable, compared to the first one.
With that newfound observation, he braced a hand against the cushion and peered behind him.
The daybed was quite wide, and it appeared to be around five feet long—not as good as a proper bed, but certainly not a bad option for catnaps during the day. Several round pillows were piled against the backrest, but he wasn’t sure if they would be suitably soft, considering how firm they looked.
Jiang Suizhou leaned over and grabbed one of the pillows to knead between his fingers.
Surprisingly, it was actually pretty plush.
Growing up, Jiang Suizhou never had to worry about basic necessities such as clothing or food. He never could’ve expected that simply having a daybed large enough to sleep on or a pillow comfortable enough to rest on would one day bring him such joy.
It might’ve been because he hadn’t slept well during either of the two previous nights, but the mere thought of a daybed had automatically triggered his body’s stress.
The pillow was exceptionally soft under his fingertips. Jiang Suizhou’s lips subconsciously curled up in a small smile as he squished the cushioning a few more times.
All of a sudden, Jiang Suizhou’s moment of joy was interrupted by a creaking sound. He jolted in surprise and whipped his head around.
Huo Wujiu had emerged from the rear chamber at some point. He was currently sitting in the doorway, quietly watching Jiang Suizhou with his dark eyes.
The sound had come from his wheelchair.
Jiang Suizhou cast aside the pillow.
He had relaxed a little too much just now. For a moment, he’d actually forgotten that there was still another person in the room! How long had Huo Wujiu been watching him?
Jiang Suizhou hastily sat up, still clutching the book in one hand. But his attempts at playing it off were futile: Behind him, the neatly stacked pile of pillows now sat in disarray due to the way he’d pulled one of them out. The evidence against him was overwhelming and obvious.
Jiang Suizhou was so mortified that his scalp started to prickle.
Fortunately, Huo Wujiu still displayed no interest in him whatsoever.
Huo Wujiu’s eyes didn’t linger on him for very long. As if he didn’t care in the slightest what Jiang Suizhou was doing, Huo Wujiu merely shot him a fleeting, unreadable look before he turned his gaze away and rolled himself into the bedroom.
✦ ✦ ✦
In this case, Jiang Suizhou had to feel grateful for Huo Wujiu’s frustratingly detached, standoffish attitude.
Clearing his throat, he propped his hand in front of his forehead, conveniently hiding his own eyes from view, and acted as though nothing had happened.
“You take the bed,” he instructed as he stared unwaveringly at his book.
He didn’t lift his head again.
Jiang Suizhou buried his face in the book, but his focus was elsewhere. He had funneled all of his attention to his ears, so he could closely follow Huo Wujiu’s every movement without having to look at him.
He heard Huo Wujiu propel himself over to the bed, then slowly shift onto it from the wheelchair. After he quietly lay down, no more sounds came from his direction.
Jiang Suizhou let out a sigh of relief.
As long as Huo Wujiu doesn’t bring it up, what is there for me to be embarrassed about? I’m not embarrassed.
It was this mantra he chanted to himself repeatedly, but his brainwashing wasn’t very successful. For the next hour, he couldn’t really process what he was reading, and he kept replaying the earlier incident in his head.
Huo Wujiu probably didn’t see him squishing the pillow like an idiot. The noise that initially alerted Jiang Suizhou was the sound of the wheelchair moving, which meant that Huo Wujiu had just come out of the room at the time. He might not have seen what Jiang Suizhou was doing at all. In fact, he almost certainly didn’t…unless…well, maybe he did?
As a war raged inside his mind, Jiang Suizhou nearly burned a hole through the book with the intensity of his stare. He completely missed the brief look that Huo Wujiu flicked in his direction once he lay down on the bed.
His lowered head, the way he was firmly concealing his face with his hand, his vexation and shame—not a single detail escaped Huo Wujiu’s notice.
A rabbit draped in a fox’s pelt had accidentally exposed its short little tail.
The corner of Huo Wujiu’s mouth twitched.