15 Refined Lady Sister-in-Law × Beautiful and Delicate Invalid 15

The Lower Yuan Festival is traditionally believed to be the day when the Water Official relieves misfortunes.

It is said that on this day, the Water Official, Emperor Yanggu, descends to the mortal realm to inspect the deeds of good and evil. Based on his findings, he reports to the Heavenly Court and lifts calamities from the people.

That night, the streets were awash with lantern light, bright and lively everywhere. Many visitors strolled through the market, watching acrobatic performances.

There were also numerous young couples meeting up, exchanging poems and riddles by the lantern stands, their tender affection captivating all who saw them.

The system silently followed them for a while, then couldn’t help but ask, "Host, haven’t you already slipped out of the Marquis’s mansion with Shen Rujie as you wished? Why do you seem not entirely happy?"

Xinyi sighed, her tone tinged with an indescribable loneliness. "Haven’t you noticed all the couples in the streets? Such a perfect atmosphere for a date."

"But in this moment, I can’t even hold a little hand."

The system was speechless.

It was obvious that its host was quite an oddity.

A night breeze stirred the palace lanterns and paper kites hanging before the stalls, gently swaying the tassels of the fragrant sachets dangling from Xinyi’s coat.

She caught the sweet scent of pastries on the breeze, and her mood brightened somewhat. Then, with a smile curving her eyes, she said to the young man at her side, “Second Young Master, I’ll treat you to something to eat.”

He had been gazing absentmindedly at the golden hairpins in her black hair.

Startled by her words, a faint blush spread across his face. "Alright, I’ll listen to Sister-in-Law."

Though she claimed to be treating Shen Rujie, most of what she bought were her own favorite snacks: osmanthus-flavored fermented rice balls, sugar-glazed rice cakes, almond crisps, red bean cakes...

And each time a treat came fresh from the oven, the young man obediently waited by her side for her to take the first bite.

But Xinyi’s interest in food was fleeting; she often lost interest after just a few bites and set the rest aside.

Especially with the bustling market around, her eyes were drawn to the lively fire-breathing performance, completely oblivious to the sugar-glazed rice cake she hadn’t finished, which the young man picked up and gently brought to his lips, biting slowly.

When she turned her head, she caught sight of the sugar crumbs clinging to his lips.

Amused, she carefully brushed them away with her fingertip. “Is it tasty?”

Shen Rujie looked at her with dark, glossy eyes. His throat suddenly felt dry, and with a slightly hoarse voice, he nodded, “Yes… very tasty.”

Xinyi regarded him for a long while, her mind involuntarily drifting back to the first time she saw him.

A youth clad in black robes, sword at his side, standing coldly in the rain, lashes dark as a crow’s wing drooping emotionlessly, as if distant from everyone.

But now, standing before her, he resembled a patient and obedient little dog, having withdrawn all his sharp edges.

Revealing a side that could be teased and even bullied.

Beneath the bustling crowd and glowing lanterns, she bit her lip and looked at him, suddenly feeling her heart soften. Then she reached out to stroke his black hair. “A Jie, you’re very good, especially good.”

“You’re too distant, Second Young Master. From now on, I’ll just call you A Jie, alright?”

Shen Rujie looked into her pure smile, a warmth rising in his chest, nearly burning him up.

He struggled to restrain the last vestiges of reason and answered vaguely, “Yes, Sister-in-Law, you can call me whatever you like.”

The night was long, and there were many interesting places yet to explore.

The beautiful young woman and the handsome youth walked along together, drawing many admiring glances. Such a perfect pair, truly a match made in heaven.

They released a sky lantern together, inscribing wishes upon it.

Xinyi went first. She extended her slender white fingers, holding the fine sandalwood brush, contemplating before writing.

Her calligraphy was a delicate floral script. Gathering her embroidered cloak around her, she bowed her head and wrote with great care: “May A Jie rise in rank and wealth, be healthy and safe, and most importantly, suffer less bloodshed and injury.”

When she finished, she handed the brush to the young man. “Write your wish as well.”

Shen Rujie took the brush, glanced at her elegant characters, then added beside them: “May every year be like today.”

Xinyi looked up and asked, “Are you happy today?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll be even happier in the days to come.”

The youth did not reply immediately but asked her, “Sister-in-Law, will you always stay with me?”

Xinyi paused, pursing her lips. “I will.”

Yet she knew this promise was a lie—one day she would leave without looking back. But for tonight, she did not want to spoil the mood.

Shen Rujie was clearly appeased by her words, a faint smile lingering in his eyes. When they passed a jewelry stall, he stopped of his own accord.

The shopkeeper followed his gaze and immediately brightened, introducing, “Young Master has excellent taste. This pair of earrings is the only set in the entire capital—an heirloom from the previous dynasty, crafted by palace silversmiths who served the concubines.”

Xinyi rolled her eyes, thinking it ridiculous for a mere street stall to claim it sold such rare relics. The earrings, though elegant, could hardly be the only pair in the city. She could weave a grasshopper ornament herself and claim it was unique.

Unaware that he was about to be overcharged, Shen Rujie picked up the earrings and held them near her ear.

He drew closer, his breath cool and soft against her skin. “Let me help you try them on, Sister-in-Law.”

Xinyi sighed, knowing she could not stop his folly, so she obediently tilted her head, allowing him to act.

A chill brushed her earlobe—his fingers, gentle yet deliberate, stroked twice before fastening the earring.

She felt nothing odd and, turning her head that way, asked, “Do they suit me, A Jie?”

Unbeknownst to her, his eyes darkened with an indescribable fixation.

His gaze locked onto the slender beauty of her neck—so pale, like jade, shimmering with a moist glow under the lantern and moonlight.

Shen Rujie involuntarily held his breath and reached out to touch it.

He wanted to see if the skin there, like he imagined, bore the warmth of jade.

Spellbound, he truly touched that slender neck.

Startled by the sudden coolness, the woman turned to him, her beautiful eyes misted with a faint haze.

When she saw him, she couldn’t help but purse her lips and smile, pressing her soft neck against the back of his hand. “Young Master, are you trying to strangle me?”

Her teasing tone treated his inappropriate advance as nothing but a playful prank.

Shen Rujie could not look away. A voice in his heart argued: No, I don’t want to strangle her.

I want to kiss her, to hold her moist lips, like a husband to his wife, to cherish and play with her.

Suddenly, he withdrew his hand, lowered his lashes to hide the sickness in his eyes, and spoke in a seemingly calm voice, “Let’s go back, Sister-in-Law.”

“Your health is poor; you cannot withstand such a chill night breeze.”

*

The lights in the Marquis’s separate residence still burned bright.

Just as they had when she left.

Xinyi pushed open the door and stepped into the courtyard, a smile lingering on her lips.

But the next moment, she saw the distraught maid, A Ying, nearly in tears, her face pale. “What shall we do, Madam? The Marquis just came by. He knows you went to see Second Young Master!”

A Ying wiped away tears, distressed. “I didn’t mean it, but the Marquis insisted on looking for you before leaving, and then… the truth came out. When he left, his face was so dark it frightened me. They say he has surrounded Second Young Master’s courtyard with the household servants.”

“Please hurry and see. Second Young Master might be beaten to death by the Marquis!”

In the small, dilapidated garden, rows of servants stood in neat formation.

Shen Gui had indeed waited outside Shen Rujie’s courtyard for two hours, until he returned.

During those two hours, Shen Gui’s already sullen expression deepened with shadow.

No wonder—no wonder Xinyi had been so cold to him lately.

Yet she cared so much for that scoundrel, even standing up for him at the poetry gathering, utterly ignoring her status as the Marquis’s wife.

His illegitimate half-brother’s birth mother was a restless maid, who not only climbed into the master’s bed but also secretly consorted with a seducer.

Unexpectedly, the son she bore was the same—lowly and shameless, flaunting himself like a dog, and worst of all, toward his own sister-in-law!

The courtyard gate creaked open, and the slender youth stepped in under the moonlight.

His pace neither fast nor slow, his dark eyes reflecting the torchlight.

Strangely, seeing the figure standing in the courtyard did not startle or unsettle him in the slightest.

He even smiled at the sight. “Brother…”

Xinyi hurried on, A Ying struggling to keep up with the lantern.

By the time she gasped her way to Shen Rujie’s quarters and pushed open the door, it was too late.

The youth was tied to a wooden post, beaten until his flesh was raw and bloody.

His body and face were marked with lash wounds, even his neck was injured, blood oozing from the wounds, filling the courtyard with the sharp scent of iron.

Xinyi’s tears sprang forth instantly; she staggered forward to reach him.

But Shen Gui silently gripped her wrist firmly, discarding the blood-soaked whip. His voice was icy. “So this is the good daughter the Wu family raised. I had no idea my constantly ill wife was secretly consorting with my illegitimate brother!”

He leaned close to the trembling woman and whispered cruelly into her ear, “What? Pretending not to want to share a bed with me—is it this little bastard who’s been taking care of you?”

“Has he touched you? How many times? Where?”

Xinyi’s lips trembled, waves of bitterness crashing over her.

She didn’t know why, for these words could not truly hurt her.

Yet her tears flowed even more freely.

To be precise, these were the original owner’s tears, as though all the neglect and grievances accumulated over years in Wu Xinyi’s body were pouring out at once.

She turned to Shen Gui through blurred eyes and demanded, “When did the Marquis ever truly regard Wu Xinyi as his wife? When have you ever shown her a shred of genuine feeling?”

“What of the Wu family’s daughter? At least she married you with sincerity, hoping to spend her life with you! But Marquis, in two years of marriage, how many times have you actually visited your wife?”

“Do you care about her true feelings?”

“Have you ever pitied her tears?”

Shen Gui’s anger boiled over. He never expected that even now, Xinyi would not repent, would not confess or beg for mercy.

Instead, she dared to turn around and question him.

How dare she!

He ground his teeth in fury, tightening his grip until it nearly crushed her bones.

But to his surprise, the woman broke free with all her strength. Even her gaze was pale and trembling, utterly disheartened.

As if he were the one who had done wrong, and it was he who must beg forgiveness.

“Write the letter of divorce. We are done.”

“What!” Shen Gui’s face darkened to iron, his chest heaving. “Wu Xinyi, say that again.”

“The estate in the outskirts of the capital, Zheng Wu…” Xinyi’s voice was cold and sharp, a faint sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “Marquis, do you want me to keep going?”

Shen Gui was stunned, never imagining that this long-hidden secret would be pierced by Xinyi’s words.

But after a brief pause, his expression darkened anew, as if her mention of divorce was meaningless to him.

“If I refuse, what can you do?”

Xinyi slowly stepped back, smiling faintly, her usually gentle face now cold and resolute.

“Then I’d rather shatter like jade than be a broken tile, smashing my head in this courtyard!”

“Choose: a dead wife, or a divorced wife, Marquis.”