Chapter 12

Pei Yao looked at my torn collar, his eyes shifting away. “A necessary expedient. I’m sorry to put you through this.”

His words were courteous, but his movements were astonishingly swift. Suddenly he was close to me.

When he stopped, I looked down at my disheveled state and flushed crimson.

Was that enough, I asked.

He studied me, thought, and shook his head.

I considered it, ruffled my hair, and did my best to look miserable. “How about now?”

He shook his head again without speaking, cupped my face, and kissed me once.

When we parted, I leaned against him, so flustered that for a moment I had no idea what to do.

He set me down, abruptly got up, and hurried to the door, lifting a corner of the flap to let the cold air blow in.

After a long hesitation, I murmured, “We are husband and wife. Why must you always pretend to be my enemy?”

He stiffened, hurriedly closed the flap, frowned, and hushed me. His hand tightened on the leather cord that tied it. After a long while, he said, “It isn’t time yet.”

We had never had a chance to spend proper time together since our marriage. Now it still wasn’t time. When would it be time?

I drew my clothes tightly around me, folded my arms, and went aside to rest with my eyes closed. I had no wish to speak to him.

When I ignored him, he sat down beside me. After a silence, he tugged my sleeve. “Your personal name is Xiaozhu, isn’t it?”

I grunted assent without opening my eyes.

“Do you have a childhood name?”

I caught my breath. “Why are you asking?”

My sharp tone startled him. “May I not ask?”

I turned away. “My childhood name is Zhi’er.”

Go ahead. Laugh all you like. No matter which of my names you chose, it always came back to pigs.

I had been premature. Afraid I would not survive, my parents gave me a humble name to make me easier to raise. Later, even my proper name sounded like “little pig.” I had been laughed at all my life.

“And what name are you using while traveling?”

He did not laugh. He simply kept asking.

I stole a glance at him, then quickly turned away again. “Murong Zhu.”

There was some Xianbei blood in my family. Pretending to be an impoverished descendant of the Murong Xianbei was not entirely false.

He smiled. “You are round and lustrous as a pearl. Zhuzhu’er suits you perfectly. That is what I shall call you outside from now on.”

Round and lustrous as a pearl?

He was calling me round and lustrous?

Was I that fat?

Besides, was that even how you used the expression?

What an ignoramus!

I sprang up in a temper, looking for something to throw at his face, when a commotion rose outside the tent.

The Goguryeo men were back.