Outside, Wei Hu boiled a pot of hot water. This man wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Winter was approaching, and with an extra person in the house, firewood would surely run short. He’d have to head to the mountains to chop some more when he had a chance.

Wei Hu stared at the pitch-black sky with a headache. His mother hadn’t tidied the next room at all—she was determined to have both of them sleep in one room.

Wei Hu carried the wooden basin of hot water into the room. “Want to wash your feet?”

The figure on the bed shuddered. Wei Hu looked up and nearly stumbled over his own feet. He steadied himself just in time, preventing the wooden basin from crashing to the floor.

A frail, ger sat in the center of the quilt, his clothes partially undone. Though the dim light from the fire didn’t illuminate the room clearly, Wei Hu, a seasoned hunter, saw everything at a glance.

The ger’s hair hung loose, revealing a pale back. Whether from cold or fear, he’d flinched at Wei Hu’s voice.

Wei Hu quickly lowered the basin. Stepping forward, he pulled the quilt tightly around the ger. Song Ning, sitting on the quilt, nearly tumbled off the bed from the sudden movement, making Wei Hu gasp in alarm.

Fortunately, the hunter was strong. Wei Hu steadied him by grabbing his arm, but the hunter yanked his arm away as if burned.

This snake-shunning reaction stung Song Ning’s eyes. He sniffed. “Do you not like me?”

“No! Not at all!” Wei Hu shook his head and nodded frantically at the same time, realizing any answer would be wrong. “That’s not what I meant. Did my mother make you do this?”

“No, I wanted this myself,” Song Ning murmured, biting his lip. He didn’t want to be sent back to the Song family—his stepmother had even considered giving him to the old man as a concubine.

Wei Hu lowered his head as he carried over the wooden basin. “I brought you water to wash your feet.”

Song Ning murmured his thanks. He slipped his feet out from under the quilt and into the basin. The water was slightly hot—just the temperature he liked. It felt incredibly soothing.

Song Ning had been terrified all day today. He had just endured the shame of undressing. Now, the warm water enveloped his feet, and the warmth flowed from his toes straight to his heart. Seeing the man looking down, afraid to meet his gaze, Song Ning suddenly felt as if the tall man was the one who was truly frightened.

This thought made Song Ning feel strangely amused, and he relaxed completely, even kicking the warm foot bath water playfully.

The sound of the splash made the man lift his head slightly. “But the water will cool down. Let me add some hot water for you.”

“It’s not—”

Before Song Ning could finish, Wei Hu had already hurried outside to fetch more hot water. Even she was taken aback—this hunter looked so tall and sturdy, yet he acted as if she were some kind of flood or wild beast.

The day before her wedding, Zhang Laopo had told her: Perhaps marrying a hunter who was said to bring misfortune to his wives was better than marrying a decrepit old man. Life in the countryside might be tough, but if he could provide food and warmth, that would be good enough. If his husband were also considerate and attentive, that would be even better.

Song Ning no longer felt afraid. Instead, he felt this hunter was a decent man. Today, upon returning and seeing him, the man had merely stood at a distance to avoid any misunderstanding.

As Song Ning pondered these thoughts, the man entered carrying a gourd dipper. He squatted down, adding hot water to the wooden basin. “Is it too hot?”

“Just right. Thank you.”

After filling the basin, Wei Hu sat back down on the stool opposite her, his posture suggesting he wished to be miles away. In this room, it seemed as though he was the outsider.

Wei Hu kept his head slightly bowed, avoiding Song Ning’s gaze. “I know you’re reluctant. Rest assured, you can stay here. I’ll arrange a place for you later. You won’t be inconvenienced.”

Song Ning’s pale feet had turned pink from the soak. Hearing the man’s words, he felt so embarrassed that his toes curled. He murmured softly, “I’m willing.”

The man seemed not to hear him and continued, “I, Wei Hu, am a coarse man. I can’t read a single character. I’ve got nothing but brute strength. You’re a ger from a wealthy family. Following me must make you suffer.”

“I’m cursed to bring misfortune to my wives. I can’t bring that upon you. Rest assured, I won’t touch you.”

When Song Ning first saw Wei Hu, he’d thought this mountain-like man looked fierce—even the children watching the commotion at the door had been scared off. But now, seeing the man hunched over on a small stool, Song Ning wasn’t so afraid anymore. Instead, he found the man’s clumsiness somewhat endearing.

Listening to his rambling, she realized he seemed even more nervous than she was. Wasn’t he a hunter? The mountains teemed with jackals, wolves, tigers, and leopards. Why wasn’t he afraid of wild beasts, yet trembled at the sight of this frail ger?

While the man dared not look at her, Song Ning stole several glances at him across the room. So clumsy. He looked fierce, but inside, he was soft.

Her face flushed as she whispered, “You’re my husband. From now on, I’ll live well with you. I’m not afraid.”

The word “husband” slipped out, and Song Ning blushed so deeply she couldn’t lift her head, the flush creeping up her ankles to her cheeks.

Though the voice was faint, only two people occupied the room. Wei Hu heard every syllable clearly. That single word, “husband,” sent his heart racing wildly, leaving him momentarily flustered and at a loss.

“You… you shouldn’t call me that.”

“I didn’t call you anything wrong.”

Song Ning lifted her feet from the wooden basin. Hearing the splashing water, the man hurriedly fetched a slightly worn towel and handed it to her. “Don’t mind it. Tomorrow I’ll take you to buy a new one. This… this is the one I use to wipe my face. You can use it for now.”

“Thank you.”

Wei Hu bent down again to carry the foot-washing water outside. It was late autumn, and the chill outside hit him like a wave. Only after stepping outside did Wei Hu breathe a sigh of relief. He truly had no idea what to do with this ger.

Now that he’d entered his home, even if nothing had happened, it might seem like something had. How could he explain it later if the ger left his house?

Wei Hu poured the foot-washing water into the courtyard. He then knocked on the door of the slightly smaller thatched cottage to the east. “Mother! Mother! Where’s that old quilt in my room?”

The light in the east room had already been extinguished. “Didn’t I leave you a new quilt? It’s not even deep winter yet. I’ll wash and prepare it for you tomorrow. Stop fussing. I’m going to sleep.”

Song Ning, in the main room, heard every word of the conversation outside. He knew perfectly well why his mother-in-law had taken the quilt. Now, only the new bedding remained on the bed.

Song Ning shed his outer robe, leaving only his undergarments. He burrowed beneath the bedding. The new quilt was fluffy and warm. He hadn’t slept well these past few days, and now, nestled in the warmth, drowsiness began to overtake him.

He fought against the sleepiness, refusing to close his eyes. The man had been gone for a long time and still hadn’t returned. It was all his fault that the man had nowhere to sleep.

After waiting for a long while, Song Ning finally heard rustling sounds near his feet. Peeking out slightly, he saw the man rummaging through a large wooden chest at his feet, searching for clothes. In his hand was a winter padded jacket.

“Come sleep here.”

Wei Hu startled at the sudden voice, having thought Song Ning had fallen asleep. “It’s fine. I’ll just drape the coat over myself in the main hall. You sleep.”

Song Ning remembered the main hall had nothing but a bench and a table. How could he sleep there? Winter was approaching, and the nights were bitterly cold. Even wearing a single layer felt chilly now; soon he’d need a light quilted jacket. What if he caught a chill and fell ill?

Seeing the man refuse to sleep in the bed, Song Ning sat up too. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you have nowhere to sleep. I’ll sleep outside.”

As Song Ning tried to get up, Wei Hu quickly pulled the quilt over him. “Nonsense! It’s freezing out there!”

Wei Hu’s stern tone made Song Ning’s eyes redden. So close together, Wei Hu saw it all. He quickly sat up straight, flustered like a guilty child. “I… I wasn’t trying to disturb you.”

Song Ning sniffed. “I… I know. Come sleep here. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.”

Wei Hu now had two headaches. His mother was already enough to give him a headache, and now another one had appeared.

Song Ning sat with his hair loose, looking even more frail and delicate in the dim oil lamp light. Wei Hu rubbed the back of his head in irritation. “We’re sleeping in the same bed now. Even if you’re innocent, it’ll be hard to explain later!”

“I am your husband,” Song Ning murmured softly.

Her voice was so faint, Wei Hu nearly missed it. “And you’re willing to be cursed with a husband who brings misfortune to his wives?”

The young ger nodded. Wei Hu sighed deeply, resigned. If he didn’t come up, it seemed the young ger wouldn’t sleep either—truly a headache. “Fine, I’ll come up.”

Only then did Song Ning obediently lie back down. Wei Hu lay down fully clothed, barely clinging to the edge of the bed, daring to pull only one corner of the quilt over himself.

Song Ning had just begun to feel drowsy. Now, with someone lying beside him, he dared not move. After all, he was married now. This man would be his husband from now on. Aside from Auntie Zhang, it had been a long time since anyone had cared for him like this.

“Take off your outer robe.”

“What?”

Song Ning’s voice was too soft; Wei Hu hadn’t caught what he said.

“Take off your outer robe.”

“It’s fine. I like sleeping like this.”

“It’s dirty…”

This time, Wei Hu heard it clearly. He had no choice but to sit up and remove his coarse tunic. This ger had been raised in luxury, his mother had said. Even if he’d endured hardship, it couldn’t have lasted long. A rough-and-tumble man like himself couldn’t possibly sully this precious ger.

There was enough space between them for another person to lie down. Song Ning lay stiff as a board, one hand clutching the edge of the quilt. To say he wasn’t nervous would be a lie.

Wei Hu dared not move a muscle. With this ger lying beside him, sleeping was out of the question—he felt like he’d burrowed into a bed of thorny weeds.

Wei Hu cleared his throat softly and lowered his voice. “You know what kind of fate I have—a wife-killer. Following me will only bring you harm. The last two were gone before long.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“How foolish of you. I know you came here because you couldn’t endure life at home. I’ll protect you from now on.”

“No.”

“Rest assured. I’ll treat you like my own younger brother. No one will ever bully you. And when you meet someone you like…”

“We’re already sharing a bed.”

Even if nothing was happening between him and this man, to outsiders, it would appear that way. This man seemed kind-hearted. Song Ning’s fear faded, and he gradually relaxed. His eyelids grew heavy, and soon he drifted off to sleep.

Wei Hu was about to say something more when he heard the soft, steady breathing beside him. He turned his head slightly and saw that the ger had fallen asleep without him noticing.

The ger’s thin lips were pressed together slightly, his long lashes fluttering with each breath. He looked a bit thin, a hint of exhaustion on his face. Wei Hu quickly looked away.

He couldn’t help but sigh deeply inside. Damn this situation his mother had created. The ger was right—even if they weren’t meant to be, now they were practically bound together. The entire village knew it. This ger was now his husband. Wei Hu felt a headache coming on. Why couldn’t either of them just listen to reason?