The red sun rose, its morning light shining down.
The green mountains were like dyed ink, and cooking smoke curled lazily in the village.
A loud rooster’s crow woke up Ying Ran.
She let out a muffled groan in her throat, pulled the quilt over her head, and turned over, wanting to go back to sleep—but it was no use.
She couldn’t fall back asleep.
Still too lazy to open her eyes, she lay there, half-asleep, half-awake.
“In the evening when I come back, should I move the chicken coop to the back of the mountain?”
A man’s gentle voice whispered in her ear, clear and smooth.
Ying Ran shook her head, dragging out her tone with a hum.
The windows and doors in the room were tightly shut.
In the dim light, the man put on a blue robe, walked to the bedside, and pulled the quilt off Ying Ran’s head.
He leaned down and softly asked in her ear, “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Nothing. I’m going to town today, I’ll eat there.”
Just awake, Ying Ran’s voice was soft and slow.
“Going with the village cart?”
“My friend’s picking me up.”
“You have a new friend?”
“He was my father’s former student. He’s now a Xuandao cultivator of a reputable sect. He can fly on a sword, so it’s easy for him to come get me.”
“Then I’m off.”
Ying Ran nodded. “Mm.”
She turned over, eyes closed, and reached out her hand toward the man.
He leaned in so she could hook her arm around his neck.
He lowered his head and kissed her on the forehead.
Ying Ran smiled faintly and lay back down, mumbling, “Be safe. A couple days ago in town I heard people saying there’ve been demon sightings near Yunshui County again.”
The man brushed aside the hair on her forehead.
“Mm. Be sure to come back before dark.”
Ying Ran nodded.
Her pretty face, still with a touch of baby fat, looked especially obedient.
The man straightened up and walked out without a sound.
“Huai Zhen.”
Ying Ran suddenly called out, “I want to eat chicken tonight. Also… did you wash my pale green dress? I want to wear it.”
He came back, took the pale green dress from the wardrobe, and placed it on the rack by the bed.
Ying Ran reached out again, and when he bent down, she hugged him and kissed his cheek.
His facial features were sharp and well-defined, but his skin was surprisingly soft—pleasant to kiss.
After kissing him, Ying Ran lay back down, still with her eyes closed, and waved at him.
“Hurry up and go, or you’ll miss the cart to Jinshui Town.”
The man replied, “Alright, I’m going.”
Ying Ran didn’t call him again.
She lazed in bed for a bit longer, half-drowsy, but eventually forced herself to get up, knowing it was getting late.
She took off her custom-made short-sleeved pajamas and put on the green spring dress with peach blossom patterns.
It was a light and breezy dress, easy to move in.
To Ying Ran, it seemed to resemble Song Dynasty fashion, though with a few differences.
Once dressed, she washed up using the warm water her husband had boiled and left to cool for her.
It was late spring, and the weather had grown warm.
Washing with this water was just right.
After washing her face, she felt refreshed.
Sitting at her vanity, she did a simple makeup routine.
In the mirror was a face with rosy cheeks and cherry lips, delicate brows and almond-shaped eyes.
Ying Ran looked at her reflection, once again struck by the wonder of it.
In this life, she still looked exactly the same as she had before she transmigrated.
Only, before she died from overwork in her past life, her eyes had been dulled by exhaustion and labor.
Now, she was only nineteen years old.
Ever since she married a year ago, her husband had treated her better than anyone ever had in either of her lives.
She didn’t need to do any chores at home; her only job each day was to think about how to enjoy herself.
At first, she had felt guilty about it.
Too deeply ingrained were the lessons of her past life—never mind that for now.
In this life, her father was a traditional old scholar.
Even though this world wasn’t strictly ancient, but one of cultivation, her father was a mortal and still taught her from a young age that a woman should be virtuous and obedient.
She never liked those words, but she’d never planned to become the type of wife who didn’t lift a finger either.
But after they married, her husband had said:
“Having you marry me, living here with me deep in the mountains and forests, is already a grievance for you. If I can’t take care of you, then I wouldn’t deserve to have married you.”
And from then on, he took care of everything, big and small.
Over time, she got used to it.
She would only occasionally offer a hand when the mood struck her—or stitch him a hair ribbon or a pouch when she had free time.
Her sewing wasn’t good, but it was the thought that counted.
Lost in thought, she soon finished her makeup.
Ying Ran picked up a small cloth pouch and put on a new peach-blossom hairpin her husband had recently made for her, then stepped outside.
She walked to the lakeside, where she had arranged to meet her friend.
After waiting for a while, a man arrived flying on a sword.
The man, close to her in age, was named Guan Yi.
He had once studied under Ying Ran’s father.
Because he disagreed with her father’s rigid, old-fashioned teachings, he and Ying Ran had become friends.
Three years ago, it was discovered he had the aptitude for cultivation, and he was taken to the capital of Yiwang Continent, Sujing.
He had just returned a few days ago after receiving an official position.
He was now a “Xuan Attendant” of the Mystical Office in Yunshui County.
“Yingying!”
Guan Yi landed in front of her, swaggering as he adjusted his yellow official’s hat.
Glancing around, he asked, “Why didn’t your husband come see you off? I heard from your mom he’s some kind of once-in-a-lifetime beauty.”
Ying Ran laughed.
“You’re believing my mom’s nonsense again? You know how she is—she could call black white if she wanted to.”
Though truth be told, her husband’s looks really were…
Ying Ran thought of the night before, when she had been lying next to him, her hand tracing his face closely.
Even after two years of marriage, she still sometimes caught herself marveling:
How could a mortal man look like that…?
Guan Yi cast a spell to enlarge his sword and waved for her to hop on.
“Your dad said he’s a scholar with great learning, but it’s a pity he’s just a mortal and doesn’t intend to take the imperial exams set for mortals. So what does he do now?”
Ying Ran got on the sword and held onto his robe.
“He’s a bookkeeper in Jinshui Town.”
“How’s the pay?”
As he spoke, the sword lifted.
Ying Ran soared into the air, heart momentarily tense.
After getting used to the rush of wind surrounding her, she began to enjoy the scenery beneath her.
“Not bad. Five spirit stones a month.”
Guan Yi replied, “For a mortal, five spirit stones is enough.”
Ying Ran nodded.
“Yeah. And most of it gets spent on me. If I didn’t buy him clothes, he’d just rotate between the same two outfits for half a year without a care.”
Guan Yi grinned, “That’s good. I was even planning to beat him up if he didn’t treat you right.”
Ying Ran laughed, her light and cheerful voice drifting on the wind.
Soon, they arrived at Yunshui County.
The sword descended into the town, and mortals all around quickly stepped aside, not daring to offend a cultivator.
Ying Ran sighed, “Sword travel is so fast… and so convenient.”
Guān Yì said nothing.
Yīng Rán continued, “But my husband plans to buy me a carriage. We’re saving up for it—it’s going well.”
Guān Yì took Yīng Rán to the best restaurant in town, Yuè Hóng Lóu, and thought aloud, “Why don’t I give you some spirit stones? You can go buy it now. I get fifty spirit stones a month—there’s no way I can spend them all by myself.”
Yīng Rán shook her head and whispered to Guān Yì, “If your wife borrowed money from another man to buy a carriage, would you be happy?”
Guān Yì laughed.
“You’re quite considerate of his feelings.”
Thinking of her husband, Yīng Rán smiled even more.
“He treats me very well.”
As they spoke, they entered Yuè Hóng Lóu.
Seeing a cultivator among the guests, the waiter immediately led them to the best seats on the second floor by the railing.
A bamboo curtain separated their booth, allowing them to hear the storyteller downstairs.
Guān Yì asked, “You really like your husband? When I got back, I heard you were married. I was pretty surprised. Your father had been trying to marry you off since you were fifteen, but you kept resisting. I thought you’d never get married.”
Yīng Rán took her seat, a bit sentimental.
“Life is life, however you live it. As long as I’m happy, that’s enough. I didn’t refuse to marry because I was against the idea—I just hadn’t met the right person. If I never met someone suitable, I would’ve been fine living alone forever.”
As she spoke, the waiter brought the menu for them to choose dishes from.
Guān Yì let Yīng Rán pick.
Yīng Rán didn’t stand on ceremony, choosing as she spoke, “But I didn’t expect that one day, while feeding a dog, I’d run into my husband.”
She picked three common dishes and a soup.
Guān Yì joked, “Since I’m the one treating you, why not order more? I won’t always be buying.”