Truth or Dare

Truth or Dare

I’d come down with a strange illness—I could only speak the truth.

On the day the Emperor bestowed a marriage decree, he asked me who held my heart.

What tumbled out of my mouth was: “Lord Adrian may be handsome, but he’s frail as a reed. He coughs a hundred times a day—I doubt he’ll live long. General Marcus is brave and striking, and I bet he’s got an eight-pack under that uniform, but he’s always scowling like he’s about to hit someone.”

I was still mulling this over when the air around me turned to ice.

I met Adrian and Marcus’s murderous glares.

And I realized with a jolt—I’d blurted out every thought in my head.

1

The banquet hall fell dead silent.

I went pale as a ghost, trembling uncontrollably.

The Emperor, lounging on his dragon throne, burst into laughter. “This youngest daughter of the Cloud family is so refreshingly honest! I ask, and she answers. Charming.”

My father, who’d nearly fainted from fright, managed a weak smile at this. “Clara is young and foolish, Your Majesty. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

The other guests quickly changed the subject, and the atmosphere warmed again.

I shuffled back to my seat, face still ghostly white. Adrian to my left shot me a mocking look. Marcus to my right turned his whole body, fixing me with a dark, murderous stare.

If looks could kill, I’d be a hog strung up for slaughter, sliced piece by piece.

I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and raised my cup to Adrian.

*Haha, Lord Adrian looks so healthy! I’m sure you’ll live to a hundred.*

That’s what I *meant* to say. What actually came out was:

“Adrian, are your eyes twitching? Why do you keep staring at me?”

My eyes went wide with horror. I clapped my hand over my mouth. Sure enough, Adrian’s calm, aloof mask shattered. He stared at me in disbelief.

I slapped myself twice, then whipped my head away from him.

Only to meet Marcus’s sneering face.

“What are you looking at?” I snapped. “You’re no different.”

The wine glass in Marcus’s hand shattered.

I was losing my mind. My face twisted in anguish. My fingers dug into my skirt so hard they nearly drew blood.

Damn it!

That curse from yesterday was real!!

I was dead meat. I’d just offended both of those terrifying bastards!

2

It all started yesterday.

My good-for-nothing older brother asked me to buy rouge for his future wife.

Since I was the laziest and most useless person in the family, I had no right to refuse.

Fine, I thought. I’ll go. But he insisted I go to that shop on the outskirts of town.

Was he trying to torture me?

Fuming, I borrowed a donkey from the steward and trudged slowly toward the suburbs.

And that’s where the disaster began.

The donkey stepped on something. I heard a “Hey!” and jumped down to check.

Nothing. Just a ginseng root that looked vaguely human-shaped.

I thought I’d imagined it. I climbed back on the donkey. Another scream: “Hey! You son of a bitch!”

This time I heard it clearly. I scrambled down and rescued the ginseng.

It immediately started cursing my ancestors. I slapped it. It kept cursing. I slapped it again.

The ginseng went silent.

“Wow,” I marveled. “A ginseng that’s become a spirit!”

The ginseng spat at me. “You stepped on me twice! I’ll curse you!!”

I was about to pocket it and take it home for my father to use as a tonic, but the ginseng slipped out of my hand and scurried away. Before it disappeared, it left a message for me.

“I CURSE YOU!!!!”

I didn’t think much of it at the time. Who knew it would actually come true?

I was squirming in my seat, unable to sit still. My comment had worked perfectly on Adrian—he wouldn’t even look at me.

Marcus, on the other hand, was enjoying himself. He watched the dancers, then glanced at me with a smirk.

Like a wolf eyeing its prey.

Just as the banquet was winding down, Marcus stood and bowed to the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, I find Miss Clara delightful. If you wish to grant me a marriage, I humbly request that it be Clara.”

Cold sweat poured down my back.

No way? Marry him? No!

Marcus was always off at war. I’d never heard of him having any lovers. Who knew how wild his private life was?

And he was so fierce. What if he married me and beat me?

Wahhh, help!

I was on the verge of tears when I met Adrian’s calm, steady gaze.

Adrian smiled faintly.

I must have looked absolutely ridiculous, because the corners of his mouth lifted. Then he stood.

“Your Majesty, I too have long admired Clara. I planned to wait until she was older to ask for her hand, but it seems General Marcus shares my feelings. I cannot bear to lose the one I love, so I beg Your Majesty to grant my wish.”

My scalp was about to explode.

Were these two bastards joking?!

Adrian had lived next door to the Cloud Estate while recovering from an illness. He’d never once looked at me properly.

And Marcus? My brother and I were known as the Capital City’s top troublemakers—he was the big one, I was the little one. Marcus had hated us from the moment he returned to the Capital.

He’d either have me thrown in jail to “reflect” or make me recite that damned *Good Citizen’s Handbook* on the busiest street, humiliating me in front of everyone.

Marcus might not remember, but I sure as hell did!

3

The Emperor stroked his beard, looking surprised. “Everyone says the Cloud girl is the hardest to marry off. How is it that two talented men are fighting over her?”

My father had already wiped his sweat a hundred times. Now he stood up shakily again.

I tried to refuse, but a big hand clamped over my mouth.

“What else are you going to say?” Marcus growled.

His hand was rough, scraping against my face. His palm was so warm it made me blush. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Is it appropriate for General Marcus to be so hands-on in public?”

Adrian’s cold voice cut in from the side. Flustered and embarrassed, I slapped Marcus’s hand away and blurted out, “Your hand is scratchy.”

Marcus’s teasing expression darkened instantly. Then came a voice from the throne: “If you must choose between the two, Clara, which one do you pick?”

Caught off guard by the Emperor’s question, I didn’t have time to think. I just heard my own voice say, “I’d pick Adrian, of course. My mother said to marry a man I can control. Adrian’s so weak, I could handle him with one hand.”

…

Great. Adrian’s face was dark now, too.

The Emperor roared with laughter. My father stood frozen, looking like he’d been struck by lightning.

Thanks. Hand me a knife. I need to end this.

My face was pale. The two men beside me were black with rage. The pressure was so heavy I almost fell to my knees begging for mercy.

My father was the first to snap out of it. “Nonsense! Apologize to Lord Adrian immediately! He’s a reasonable man, but you can’t just joke like that!”

He stepped forward and knelt, looking pained. “Your Majesty, it’s kind of you to find a match for my daughter, but she’s still childish. If she’s offended Lord Adrian and General Marcus, I beg you to go easy on her. I’ll discipline her properly and make amends.”

I knew I’d caused a disaster. Adrian might look frail, but he was the most cunning of them all. Marcus commanded a massive army and had the Emperor’s trust. I’d offended both of them at once—there was no place for me in the Capital anymore!

Dejected, I bowed deeply to Adrian and kept my mouth shut.

Adrian smiled faintly. As I straightened up, he whispered, “Don’t be afraid.”

I was shocked. Was he being nice today?

I turned to bow to Marcus, but he caught me before I could.

“Scared already? You weren’t afraid when you fought me in the street back then.”

My face was ashen. I didn’t bother arguing. If I opened my mouth, this farce would never end.

The old Emperor watched with amusement. Finally, he stroked his beard and said, “If you can’t decide, perhaps Clara should marry the Crown Prince. He’s a bit older, but steady and reliable. Clara could bring some joy to the Eastern Palace.”

“No!”

“No!”

“Your Majesty, reconsider!”

Three voices spoke at once. I didn’t say anything because my mouth was covered again.

This time it was Adrian. His hand was softer, smoother, and paler.

I realized what I was thinking and shook my head. Adrian withdrew his hand and said, “I’ve loved Clara for a long time. She chose me just now. Even if she wants to control me, I’m willing.”

At this, the banquet erupted.

The elegant Lord Adrian was bowing to the Capital’s biggest troublemaker?

Marcus scanned my face. “I think Clara should decide for herself.”

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on me.

I tried to fake a faint. My legs buckled. I was almost there.

But Marcus caught me. He gritted his teeth and said, word by word, “Go ahead. Say it.”

I wanted to die.

If I chose one, I’d offend the other. Might as well offend both.

I blinked.

“I’ll take both!”

4

I couldn’t have both, of course, so they gave me three months to decide.

The Capital was buzzing. People were even placing bets on who I’d choose.

My brother kept pestering me to tell him who I liked so he could make a fortune at the betting house.

I wanted to know too! Finally, worn down by his nagging, I thought it over and decided on Adrian.

My mother said, “Adrian himself admitted he’d listen to you. If you marry him, you’ll live a life of ease.”

My brother said, “I’d go with Marcus. How many years does Adrian have left? And little sister, you don’t know—the key to a happy marriage isn’t who listens to who, it’s—” He gave me a knowing look.

I didn’t get it, but another thought struck me. “If Adrian dies early, won’t all his money be mine? Mom, brother, I’ve decided! I’ll pick Adrian!”

So my brother took me to the betting house. I disguised myself as a young gentleman in the latest fashion, with a jade crown in my hair, and we rode over.

The place was packed. The bets on Adrian and Marcus were split fifty-fifty.

My brother threw down a stack of banknotes. “All on Adrian!”

His loud voice drew a crowd. Everyone started chattering. “Dude, it won’t be Lord Adrian. General Marcus has the army. He could just take Clara by force.”

“Nonsense. Lord Adrian is refined and handsome. The noble ladies love that.”

“Pfft. I’m betting on General Marcus.”

I snorted. “If you ask me, neither of them is good enough for Miss Clara. I’ve seen her once—she’s as beautiful as a fairy—”

Before I could finish, a strong hand slammed me onto the betting table.

“The General is here!”

At the announcement, the entire place went silent. Everyone was trembling.

My face was pressed against the table. I struggled. “You, jerk, with, all, these, people, you, pick, me.”

Marcus pressed harder. He said coldly to the owner, “Do you want this place shut down? What kind of bets are you taking?”

The owner knelt, sobbing. “Please spare me, General! The whole city was clamoring for it. Even if I didn’t run this bet, someone else would. Please let me off. Treat me like a fart and just let me go.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “With that line, Marcus will never fart again!”

I found it even funnier and kept laughing. Marcus grabbed both my wrists and pulled me up.

“Is that so?”

His voice was ice-cold.

My smile vanished.

When he saw the pile of banknotes all bet on Adrian, his face darkened further.

“Shut this place down!” he barked, then dragged me out of the betting house.

My worthless brother shouted after us, “Put it all on General Marcus! That wasn’t me who bet on Adrian! I’m betting on General Marcus!”

5

Marcus and I were back on the bustling streets of the Capital.

He tossed me a copy of the *Good Citizen’s Handbook*, then sat on a stone bench under a tree. “Read.”

“What crime did I commit?” I slammed the book on the stone table. “There were so many people! Why did you only grab me?”

“Who told you to go to a betting house?”

“It was my first time, and you caught me! You did it on purpose!”

“If I hadn’t gone, how would I know you’ve already made your choice?” He stood up, towering over me.

The pressure was immense. I swallowed, not wanting to back down. “So what? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” Marcus sneered. He pushed me against a tree. “I don’t get jealous. If I like a girl, I just take her.”

He’d been on the battlefield, so intimidating a fool like me was child’s play. I tried to run, but he blocked me. I was stuck facing him.

He was terrifying. If I married him, I’d die of fright one day.

Seeing how scared I was, Marcus let go. His voice softened slightly. “So now you know who to choose, right?”

I wanted to lie. *Yeah, I’ll think about it.*

What came out was: “I pick Adrian. You’re too scary.”

Marcus looked like he was about to explode.

I realized then that a crowd had gathered around us, watching intently.

I was ashamed, scared, and humiliated.

I burst into tears.

Within half a day, the news that General Marcus had made Clara cry on the street spread through the Capital.

He couldn’t console me, so he dropped me off outside the Cloud Estate and fled.

I stood at the gate as passersby stopped to stare.

When the wind dried my tears, I snapped, “What are you looking at?”

Then I strode back inside.

If I’d known fake crying worked so well, I wouldn’t have been fighting that demon all this time.

Back home, I heard a commotion next door. A servant said, “The Lord has moved in next door.”

Great. One leaves, another arrives.

I shouted in the courtyard, “Dad! It’s so noisy next door! I’m going to the Spring Breeze Pavilion. I’ll bring you some lamb soup.”

I jingled my coin purse. Enough to rent the whole place.

Lamb soup? I’d just buy some from a random street vendor. I said I was *going* to the Spring Breeze Pavilion, not that I’d bring lamb soup *from* there!

Did people go to the Spring Breeze Pavilion for lamb soup?

No! They went for the beautiful entertainers!

I was already fantasizing about the night ahead when my father bellowed, “Nonsense! Get in here!”

I thought he wanted me to bring something. But when I walked in, he was chatting amiably with Adrian.

Great. Silence is golden, they say. And every time I bad-mouth someone, they’re right there to hear it.

My father didn’t miss a beat. “Weren’t you going to the Spring Breeze Pavilion? What a coincidence—Lord Adrian is going too. You two can eat there. Come back early.”

Seriously?

I wanted to say: *It’s getting late, Dad. Why don’t you keep Lord Adrian for dinner?*

What came out was: “No way! I don’t want to take him! I want to have fun!”

My father was furious. “Nonsense! Don’t be difficult!”

I covered my mouth. Fine. I accepted my fate.

I waved at Adrian. *Follow me, my lord.*

What came out was: “Come on, you dying man.”

My father nearly had a heart attack. I ran out before he could hit me.

6

On the way, Adrian didn’t seem angry. I wanted to apologize, but I was afraid that if I spoke, I’d just make him drop dead.

Just before we reached the Spring Breeze Pavilion, he said, “It seems Miss Clara wants me dead.”

I knew this was bad. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but he pulled it away. “Speak freely.”

With my hand gone, the truth slipped out.

“If you die, I’ll inherit your fortune and live a carefree life as a merry widow.”

Adrian narrowed his eyes. “Is that so?”

I kept my mouth shut and shook my head frantically. He pinched my chin, forcing my jaw open.

“Truer than true.”

Adrian got my honest answer, but he lost his happiness.

Well, duh. Who’d be happy hearing that?

I was going crazy because of my own mouth. When we got to the Spring Breeze Pavilion, the manager greeted us with a smile. “Oh, honored guests! The usual?”

Then she noticed Adrian and slapped herself. “Silly me, I was mistaken. What would you like?”

Adrian said flatly, “Lamb soup.”

Lamb soup? At a place like this? Was he here to cause trouble?

The manager broke out in a cold sweat. She looked at me helplessly.

I was exhausted. I gave her a look, planning to save the situation: *The lamb soup here is amazing. I bet it’s sold out.*

But what everyone heard was: “I lied to my dad about the lamb soup. I was planning to rent out the whole Spring Breeze Pavilion.”

Don’t stop me. I’m going to bash my head against a table.

I let out a wail and lunged for a nearby table.

I didn’t hit the table. Instead, a slender, elegant hand stopped my forehead.

“Rent it out for her,” Adrian said.

Then he picked me up, a smile on his face. “I’d like to see how Miss Clara usually has fun.”

He smiled like a demon.

My back went rigid. Adrian, meanwhile, lounged lazily in his chair, watching as the handsome young entertainers I usually hired filed in one by one.

When the last one entered and closed the door, Adrian turned to me. “Miss Clara certainly knows how to have a good time.”

I suppressed the urge to speak. I rummaged through a cabinet, found a handkerchief, and stuffed it into my mouth.

Then I sat back down and smiled at him.

There. Now I couldn’t say a word.

“What’s this, Miss Clara? If someone walked in, they’d think I was doing something to you.”

He leaned closer and closer. I gripped the armrests of my chair to keep from being pushed to the floor.

A sickly guy like him thought he could manhandle me?

I could push him away with one hand. And if he tried to sue me for it, let him!

With that thought, I pushed.

He didn’t budge.

I pushed harder.

Nothing.

He laughed, grabbed my wrist, and flipped me around effortlessly. I couldn’t move.

How was he so strong?! Didn’t he cough three times with every step?

I was stunned. I struggled like a fish out of water. Then the door burst open, and a booming voice announced, “The General is here!”

God, just let me die.

Sure enough, the next day, the gossip in the Capital was: “Lord Adrian tried to force himself on Miss Clara at the Spring Breeze Pavilion.”

It completely overshadowed the story about General Marcus making Clara cry.

7

I moped for days. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and didn’t speak a word.

My brother got worried. “Come on, have you finally realized how much you eat? But even normal ladies don’t starve themselves! Look how thin you’ve gotten!”

He pulled out a greasy, glistening pork knuckle. When I frowned, he shoved it in my face.

I almost threw up. I pushed his hand away, knowing I couldn’t go on like this.

“Brother, I need your help.”

I clenched my fist and pounded the table twice. He thought I’d been bullied and immediately got serious. “Just say the word, little sister. I’m not afraid of any noble in the Capital.”

“Find me a ginseng root that can walk and talk. If I’m not mistaken, it should have hoofprints on its belly.”

My brother stared at me.

He looked at my serious, earnest face and began to doubt my sanity.

An hour later, he brought back a kindly old Chinese medicine doctor.

I said, “There really is a ginseng spirit that can talk and run! It cursed me to only tell the truth!”

The old doctor calmly mixed some herbs. “There’s a ginseng root. And then?”

“I stepped on it with my donkey. It cursed me. I slapped it twice. And then it cursed me.”

“Mm-hmm. Go on.”

I wanted to tear him apart.

I knocked over his medicine and grabbed my brother, who was hiding in a corner watching.

“Are you even my brother? Do you believe me?”

My brother looked awkward, like a child caught doing something wrong.

“Well, you see—”

Seeing that he really didn’t believe me, I gritted my teeth and let go. “Forget it. Don’t tell anyone. I’m not crazy.”

Then I stormed off.

I didn’t know what festival it was, but the streets were decorated with lanterns and bustling with activity.

I leaned against a donkey and spotted a pickpocket at work. I flicked a pebble at his hand. He yelped, got caught, and the crowd surrounded him.

Someone said, “The General is nearby.”

I cursed under my breath and was about to head home when I noticed a familiar figure lounging by a donkey’s hooves, basking in the sun.

It was the ginseng spirit!

My heart raced. I pounced.

The ginseng didn’t expect an ambush. It screamed, “Who’s crushing me?!”

I grabbed it and snarled, “Lift your curse, ginseng spirit.”

It spat at me again. “You again!”

I dodged and fumed. “Hurry up! You’ve ruined me!”

But the ginseng was crafty. It pointed behind me. “Look over there!”

I was afraid it was Marcus. I turned around instinctively. That was its chance. It darted into the crowd, moving effortlessly.

I chased after it.

8

The ginseng was cunning. I was jostled by the crowd, and just as I got close, it slipped into someone’s clothes.

I saw white boots embroidered with gold thread. The ginseng poked its head out from under the hem and taunted me.

I stared for a moment. Then I looked up.

Great. Adrian.

I wanted to say a snake had crawled into his clothes to scare him. But since I could only tell the truth, I pointed at his lower half.

“There’s a ginseng spirit in your clothes. Can I lift your hem and grab it?”

Adrian was stunned. Yes, completely stunned.

He repeated, “A ginseng? In my clothes?”

I tugged at my hair in frustration. No one ever believed me. I was so angry. And the ginseng had slipped away again.

But then something touched my hand. I looked down. Adrian was holding the ginseng, pressing it into my palm.

Overjoyed, I clutched it and ran toward the Cloud Estate. “Thank you, Adrian!”

I’d barely made it past the corner when I ran straight into someone. Or rather, he deliberately blocked me.

Marcus’s voice was harsh. “What’s in your hand?”

I quickly hid it behind my back. “None of your business.”

“I saw Adrian take something out of his… clothes and give it to you.” He couldn’t bring himself to say exactly where.

I thought, why was he so awkward? Sure, the ginseng had hidden in an awkward spot, but—

“You don’t think Adrian gave me his underwear, do you?” I burst out laughing.

Marcus got annoyed. He snatched it from my hand. When he saw it was just a ginseng root, he looked utterly speechless.

“Why did Adrian give you this? Is he crazy?”

I pouted. “Do you have anything else, General? I’m leaving. Give it back.”

Marcus dodged my grab. “Don’t take things from him.” He turned to his attendant. “Send all the ginseng from the manor to the Cloud Estate. Along with the betrothal gifts I’ve prepared. I’ll visit the Prime Minister tonight.”

I panicked and tried to pry his hand open. He didn’t budge.

“Marcus, give it back!”

“Let’s go. Back to the Cloud Estate.”

All the way there, I tried everything. I talked until I was hoarse. I couldn’t even loosen his grip.

I was like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go, being dragged all the way home.

Marcus had spent too much time fighting barbarians. He’d picked up their ways. Without a word, he sent the betrothal gifts. My father didn’t dare refuse.

I was depressed. I sat on the front steps, questioning my life.

He knew how to strike at the heart.

The sky darkened, and the Capital came alive again.

Music filled the air. Red lanterns cast their glow on the cool stone pavement, creating a sense of loneliness.

I was dejected when a shadow fell in front of me.

A butterfly-shaped sugar figurine appeared. The red lanterns outside the Cloud Estate made it look red too.

The figurine moved, and a strange voice said, “Let me see. Who’s this sad young lady sitting all alone?”

I burst out laughing and grabbed the figurine. “Adrian!”

Adrian smiled. I stood up, stomping my cold feet, my eyes crinkling into crescents. “Did you make this yourself, my lord? If not, I won’t eat it!”

Adrian pretended to look disappointed. “Oh no. The Lord’s mother made it. She told me to give it to her future daughter-in-law. If you don’t eat it, she’ll be heartbroken.”

I reluctantly said, *Fine, I’ll try it.*

“Haha, I can’t wait to eat it! I’ll eat it all!”

My blunt words made me cringe. Adrian saw me cover my mouth in embarrassment and let out a fond laugh.

He tapped my forehead with his ring finger. “You.”

I tasted the figurine. It was sweet, all the way to my heart.

The flavor was the same, but the butterfly was so lifelike and beautiful.

Since Adrian had also sent betrothal gifts to the manor, my father couldn’t offend either of them. He pretended to be sick and stayed out of it. The matter was shelved for now.

9

One morning, snow began to fall softly.

I wore a red padded dress and tied my hair into two buns. I was sent to visit my aunt.

She’d just given birth and was weak. A monk said she needed a lucky person to keep her company to recover faster.

The title of “lucky person” fell to me because I’d been healthy since childhood and never got sick.

I packed some food and climbed into the carriage, waving to my mother.

“Stay with your aunt for a few days,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. She loves you the most. Stay a while!”

My brother added, “Don’t forget to bring me some new trinkets from Northfield!”

I made a face and got into the carriage.

Northfield wasn’t a bustling place. The journey there passed through many desolate areas. It was boring.

I was lounging when I heard the maid Qingqing call out, “General Marcus.”

I lifted the curtain. Marcus was riding a chestnut horse. He was handsome, with a spirited, youthful look. Behind him was a troop of armored soldiers.

I gasped. I was just a little nobody. I didn’t deserve this escort!

“Don’t think this makes up for it. Where’s my ginseng?”

Marcus looked annoyed. “Is what he gave you that important?”

“It’s my ginseng! It’s a spirit! It ran into his clothes!” I shouted, knowing how ridiculous it sounded. I didn’t care. It was the truth.

Marcus signaled to someone behind him. A soldier stepped forward and handed me the ginseng.

I hadn’t expected it to be so easy. Satisfied, I retreated into the carriage.

Outside, Marcus sounded regretful. “So you’re ignoring me now.”

I just snorted in response.

The ginseng was probably frozen stiff. I placed it near the heater. After a while, it stirred.

“You again?” it screeched and tried to escape.

I screamed too. Why did this thing only run when I held it?

Shouts came from outside the carriage.

“General! The ginseng stole a horse and rode off!”

10

I threw open the curtain and gave Marcus a pitiful, pleading look.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He spurred his horse and gave chase.

Within moments, the ginseng, now bound in red thread, was tossed into my hands.

I grabbed it ecstatically. This time, I didn’t lower the curtain. “General, say whatever you want. I’m listening.”

Marcus snorted.

I slapped the ginseng. “Are you messing with me? If you don’t lift the curse, I’ll bite you!”

I threatened it. It called my bluff. “Go ahead. You wouldn’t dare.”

What did I have to lose? I bit it.

The ginseng’s scream nearly shattered my eardrums. It writhed on the ground in an exaggerated, seductive pose, sobbing.

“You shameless girl!”

I heard Marcus laugh outside.

I glanced over. He was stone-faced again.

I pointed at him. “You were laughing.”

Caught red-handed, Marcus stopped pretending and laughed openly.

My damn pride flared up, but he’d helped me, so I couldn’t get mad. I just glared at the ginseng.

The ginseng wiped its tears. “Try lying now.”

I turned to Marcus.

“Marcus, you’re so handsome!”

He froze. Then I shouted excitedly, “I’m cured! I can lie now!!!”

The brief flutter in his heart was replaced by fury. “Stop the carriage!”

My heart went cold. “Don’t you dare! Don’t stop!”

I forgot he was a martial arts master. He leaped onto my carriage. I screamed and tried to block the curtain.

Marcus was strong, as always. He pushed the curtain aside. I cowered in a corner, trembling.

I was terrified. Marcus never followed the rules.

I remembered him saying he’d just take me by force. I was even more scared. I tried to fake cry again.

Before the tears came, he scooped me up and jumped off the carriage.

I was so scared I lost my color. He carried me as easily as a side of pork. When I started struggling, he slapped my bottom.

I gritted my teeth. “Damn you.”

The Cloud Estate’s servants and maids stared, surrounded by Marcus’s men.

As Marcus carried me further and further away, I was terrified. Would he do something crazy?

Knowing him, it was possible!

I started crying for real. He set me down somewhere, and I bolted. But he caught me.

His voice was helpless. “Look at this.”

Then, sounding annoyed, he added, “Am I that scary?”

Of course he was! If not him, then who?

I looked up. Before me was a sea of flowers.

A fiery red sea of flowers.

In this freezing weather, the flowers bloomed even more brilliantly.

I was stunned speechless. He waved a hand in front of my face.

“Speechless? Still scared?”

I sniffled and wiped my tears. “You could have just said we were going to see flowers. You scared me to death.”

He ruffled my hair. His voice was plaintive.

“Alright. I won’t do it again.”

11

After a day’s journey, we reached Northfield. I went to see my aunt. Marcus didn’t come in. He waited outside.

My aunt held my hand. “Clara, never betray someone who truly cares for you.”

I knew she meant Marcus. I felt awkward. “I know, Aunt.”

The three months flew by. The old Emperor summoned me to the palace.

“I was afraid you’d be embarrassed. Have you decided?”

I already had my answer.

“I choose—”

[Marcus’s Story]

It had been a month since the Lady married the General.

No one expected the delicate Lady to have the General wrapped around her finger.

After a few initial hiccups, they were inseparable.

The Emperor had given the General a month off. On the second day of the marriage, the Lady demanded he ask the Emperor to rescind the decree.

The General refused. He carried her back to their room.

One day, I was doing the Lady’s hair. She looked melancholy and muttered, “So this is what my brother meant.”

I didn’t know what she meant, but I could see faint love bites on her neck. I had a guess.

The Dowager adored the Lady. They had so much in common.

When they watched plays, the Lady loved to comment. She always made the Dowager laugh until she cried.

The Dowager doted on the Lady far more than on the General.

The Lady had a dog. She never gave it a name. She just called it “Dog!”

And the dog would wag its tail and come running, looking adorable.

The Lady might have been slow sometimes, but she learned household accounts in no time. Within three days, she was managing the entire estate smoothly.

Whenever a servant reported the finances, the Lady would lean back in her chair, cross her legs, and rattle away on the abacus like a little shopkeeper.

Since the Lady joined the household, there was much more laughter.

The Lady had poor circulation. The General would personally brew medicine and soak her feet.

Every time I saw the General carrying a basin of footbath water out of the room, followed by the Lady’s shout, “Close the door! It’s freezing!”

So the General would put down the basin, close the door, and then pick it up again to dump it.

In the second year of their marriage, the Lady gave birth to twins.

One day, while cleaning the room, I saw a ginseng root with a bite mark on the bedside table. The Lady was talking to it, asking why it was on the bed.

Then she threw it to the dog. I must have imagined it, but I could have sworn the ginseng ran away.

[Adrian’s Story]

The Lord had once lived next to the Cloud Estate while recovering from an illness. He moved in on a snowy day and happened to see a little girl building a snowman outside the Cloud Estate.

The snowman was chubby, about a meter tall.

The girl put a coat on it, drew its eyes, and then left, satisfied.

The Lord usually didn’t pay attention to such things, but that day, for some reason, he went to take a look.

The snow must have been slippery. The Lord slipped and fell, flattening the snowman’s head.

We rushed to help him up. He wanted to fix it. But the commotion was too loud. Someone was coming from the Cloud Estate.

We helped the Lord back inside.

Soon, we heard the girl’s scream. “Which bastard chopped off my snowman’s head?!”

After that, the Lord always avoided the girl’s eyes. She thought he was arrogant and looked down on her.

The next winter, the girl went to visit her aunt. The Lord built a snowman outside the Cloud Estate to make up for it.

But his snowman was ugly. He’d even put two buns on its head, as if modeling it after the girl.

When she returned in the evening, the Lord waited anxiously in his courtyard, listening.

Soon, she knocked on his door, furious. “Are you trying to put a guard dog in front of my house with that ugly snowman? Practice in your own yard next time!”

Then she picked up the snowman and placed it heavily in her own yard.

That was the first time I saw the Lord look hurt.

I felt sorry for him. But when I went to the bathroom at midnight and was scared out of my wits by that hideous snowman, I stopped sympathizing.

Now, the Lord has married the