Chapter 1
A WEDDING NIGHT was taking place at the marquess of Nan’an’s manor.
Two matrons of honor had been tasked with assisting the bride on the wedding night. When they finished their work, the matrons led the maids out of the inner rooms of the marquess’s manor. Before the women even stepped out the door, they were whispering to each other frantically.
“I’ve never seen such a beautiful man.”
“Ah, what a pity that he’s married to an invalid.”
“What is there to pity? He’s the young lord of the marquess’s manor now. If it weren’t for the man’s bazi, which could bring fortune to their heir, would the marquess and marchioness be interested in the son of the head imperial physician in the Department of Imperial Physicians—the son of a fifth-rank official?”
“Good point. Only time will tell whether this is a blessing or a curse.”
As they conversed, the bride’s matrons of honor came to the outer room and glanced inside, then closed the doors. Among the festive red decorations was the newly married young lord, wearing a bridal veil over his head. He looked like a jade sculpture as he sat silently on the wedding bed.
The doors slowly closed, leaving only the newlyweds in the room.
Everything went quiet. Lin Qingyu’s back, which he’d had stiffened for an entire day, finally relaxed. He shifted a bit, the tassels from his veil swaying with the movement.
Wearing a veil was so uncomfortable. When a woman got married, her husband was supposed to remove her veil—presumably, the same went for a man.
But his husband might not be able to do that.
His…“husband.”
Lin Qingyu took the veil off himself, which finally widened his field of vision. He looked around at the mesh curtains, red drapes, and bedding. Finally, he turned his gaze to the sleeping man on the bed—Lu Wancheng, heir to the marquess of Nan’an’s estate.
In the candlelight, Lin Qingyu studied him expressionlessly.
Lu Wancheng was dressed in bright-red wedding robes, but his eyes were as dark as the faraway mountains. His eyelashes were long, his cheekbones were defined, and his lips were as pale as paper. Even though his eyes were shut, and he looked weak and feeble, he was still clearly handsome.
From now on, this man would be Lin Qingyu’s husband.
Lin Qingyu had become a man’s wife, even though he was a man himself. He was the first male wife in the Great Yu Empire to be legitimately married.
Hilarious, really.
Lin Qingyu had been preparing for the Imperial Academy of Medicine’s entrance examination for three years now. If he passed, he could become a medical official like his father. Even if he didn’t join the palace’s personnel, he could still open an apothecary in the capital and be an ordinary physician.
Unfortunately, right when his plans were about to come to fruition, the empress had summoned his father and said, “I heard that you have a son born in the chen hour1 on the eleventh day of the third month of the guiwei2 year. Is that true?”
After his father confirmed it, the empress asked the emperor to permit a member of the Lin family to marry, betrothing Lin Qingyu to Lu Wancheng, the marquess of Nan’an’s eldest son.
The officials in the capital knew very well that Lu Wancheng had been born sickly, and that he’d been bedridden for many years. Upon his birth, the marquess of Nan’an had invited an imperial physician to examine the infant. The physician confirmed that Lu Wancheng wouldn’t survive past the age of twenty.
Lu Wancheng was already nineteen this year, and his health worsened by the day. Seeing him waste away, approaching the end of his life, the marquess of Nan’an could only write a letter pleading for help from the Great Yu Empire’s imperial preceptor, who was rumored to understand the world, ghosts, and the gods. The imperial preceptor’s reply only contained one line—a bazi. The chen hour on the eleventh day of the third month of the guiwei year.
Disobeying the emperor’s orders was a crime punishable by death. Lin Qingyu wouldn’t have regretted dying alone, but he needed to protect his aging parents and younger brother. Thus, he became Lu Wancheng’s wife for the sake of warding off his bridegroom’s sickness.
Over a decade of intense studying had became nothing more than a joke.
The night was growing late, and the maid standing watch outside told Lin Qingyu, “Young Lord, it’s time to serve the young marquess in bed.”
Lin Qingyu clenched his fist toward his sleeping husband. Him, serve Lu Wancheng? Was she joking?
The rules of noble marriage had always been onerous. Though this wedding had been rushed, the marquess of Nan’an had sent an etiquette instructress to the Lin manor to teach what Lin Qingyu called “the ways of a male wife.” Before the wedding, they washed his whole body inside and out and even smeared something like grease on him.
Lin Qingyu was not homosexual and had never suffered such humiliation. If it weren’t for his wish to protect dozens of members of the Lin family, he would rather have died along with Lu Wancheng.
Seeing no movement in the bridal chamber, the maid urged him, “Young Lord, it’s time for bed.”
Lin Qingyu closed his eyes and suppressed the malice rising within him. He blew out all the candles except for a single red one at the foot of the bed.
Lu Wancheng lay atop the quilt, still wearing his luxurious wedding robes. Sleeping like that was probably uncomfortable.
But what did that have to do with Lin Qingyu? He hoped Lu Wancheng would never wake up.
As Lin Qingyu walked to the side of the bed, his eyes fell on Lu Wancheng’s hands, which lay crossed over his chest.
The Lins were a medical family—Lin Qingyu had studied medicine with his father since childhood. When still young, he’d left home to learn from renowned teachers, and his medical techniques far exceeded those of his peers. He knew just by looking at Lu Wancheng’s face that the man was beyond cure. He must have been suffering from a serious chronic illness.
To confirm that suspicion, Lin Qingyu deigned to feel the ill man’s pulse. Lu Wancheng’s wrist felt frighteningly cold, as if it had just been taken out of cold water.
It was essentially as Lin Qingyu had guessed—Lu Wancheng’s vitality was exhausted, and he was on the verge of death. Unless a miraculous physician reincarnated into this world, Lu Wancheng wouldn’t survive longer than six months.
That meant Lu Wancheng’s bride would only have to deal with this for half a year. When the young nobleman succumbed to his illness, Lin Qingyu would be free.
As he took the ill man’s pulse, Lin Qingyu unconsciously exerted some force, leaving two shallow marks on Lu Wancheng’s wrist.
Suddenly, Lu Wancheng’s deathly pale fingers moved.
Lin Qingyu instinctively let go of his hand, and it fell back onto the bed. His eyes rolled beneath his closed eyelids, his long eyelashes fluttering.
Was Lu Wancheng about to wake up?
Lin Qingyu’s expression was grave as he stared at Lu Wancheng unblinkingly. Under his bride’s sharp gaze, Lu Wancheng slowly opened his eyes.
Lu Wancheng’s vision seemed covered with a layer of fog; he seemingly couldn’t see clearly. Even when the cloudiness apparently dissipated, he seemed confused.