Chapter 1720 -1713: Cold Treatment in New Marriage

“The Commander Mo’s youngest son was very pleased to receive the wedding sweets. It seems the Mo family, though absent, still congratulates me on my joyous marriage!”

“You…”

Leng Muling’s hands, placed on her lap, clenched tightly into fists.

Lu Mian grabbed her hand, pried her fingers open one by one, and then used her hand to lift the veil.

The veil, like a tattered cloth, was casually tossed into the corner by Lu Mian.

His alcohol-flushed face appeared before Leng Muling. In the dim light, it was both sinister and cold.

“Leng Muling, are you scared already on the very first day of marriage?” The blood-red veins in his eyes resembled bloodthirsty vines, invisibly wrapping around Leng Muling’s body.

For a moment, Leng Muling’s heart trembled.

She had to admit that faced with such an insidious and terrifying Lu Mian, she felt a bit intimidated.

But she would never shrink back!

Leng Muling placed her hands on Lu Mian’s shoulders. Her alluring lips curved into a seductive smile. “Since I’ve married my husband, why would I ever be afraid? Unless this life is buried in the Lu family, I, Leng Muling, will not falter even once.”

As long as she was here, Lu Mian could forget about having a single day of peace!

Her legs, the Chu family’s grudge—she would settle them all!

Lu Mian let out a cold snort and left her in the bridal room.

Leng Muling barely had a few hours of rest before rising early the next morning, only to discover that the courtyard of her new bridal room was the smallest and shabbiest in the Lu residence.

No one came to dress her as the new wife, and not even breakfast was sent.

Leng Qiu, fuming with anger, stomped her feet. “This is absolutely outrageous! Does the Lu family know this new bride is a Prime Minister’s daughter? How dare they show such disrespect!”

Leng Muling dressed herself, combed her hair, and remained indifferent. “Lu Mian despises me this much. Why would his household treat me any better?

No need to get angry. Fetch some water, and prepare to enter the palace to thank His Highness.”

To receive the gift of marriage was a blessing from the heavens; naturally, thanks had to be given in the palace.

Leng Muling entered the palace early in the morning to express gratitude to Chu Heng. Without accompanying Lu Mian, and without breakfast, she kneeled before Chu Heng to bow, and her stomach began to rumble audibly.

Seated in the imperial study, Chu Heng widened his eyes. “Sister Muling, were you so rushed that you couldn’t even eat breakfast?”

Leng Muling clutched her handkerchief and nodded slightly. “At home… there seems to be no one managing breakfast.”

“How could there be no one managing breakfast?” Sun Wu, serving beside Chu Heng, spoke with a sharp voice. “In our palace, there are designated personnel managing His Highness’s meals,

and the courtyards of all court officials are no different!

How could a household as prominent as Lord Lu’s fail to provide breakfast?

Especially when you’re the newlywed wife of Lord Lu!”

“Perhaps as the new bride, I’m… not very welcome,” Leng Muling replied, her hair styled in a matron’s chignon. Her gentle smile exuded a newfound maturity and composure.

Chu Heng didn’t ask more, instead ordering Sun Wu, “Go and prepare two breakfasts for Sister Muling and her maidservant.”

“As you command, Your Highness.” Sun Wu lifted his horsetail whisk and immediately went off to deliver the message.

Chu Heng, needing to attend the morning court, left Leng Muling in his quarters to have breakfast.

When Sun Wu went to arrange the meal, news traveled through the palace.

In no time, the entire imperial palace was abuzz with the revelation that Lord Lu’s new bride had no breakfast at home and that it was Chu Heng who pitied her and granted her a meal.

By the time the court session ended and people exited, the story’s variations had already grown numerous.

From Leng Muling not being fed at home, to Lu Mian refusing to stay in the bridal chamber on his wedding night, to him abusing his wife—every possible rumor swirled above the imperial palace.

On the road leaving court, plenty of officials pointed and whispered about Lu Mian.

Unaware of what had happened, Lu Mian stopped a palace servant along the path to inquire, but suddenly a voice interrupted him. “Lord Lu, is your estate so destitute that my niece couldn’t even have breakfast on the first day of marriage?”

Zhuo Junli, garbed in a deep purple official robe, smiled outwardly but carried a chill in his gaze, mocking him upfront.

Lu Mian maintained his usual cold demeanor. “The Lu family may not be affluent, but we would not starve the mistress of the house.”

“Oh, really? Then why is Ling’er at the Crown Prince’s residence seeking breakfast instead of staying peacefully at the Lu estate? Lord Lu, you do put on an air of a gentleman, but underneath, you’re nothing but black-hearted and rotten to the core!”

Zhuo Junli intentionally raised his voice, drawing the attention of many officials who turned to look at Lu Mian.

They whispered among themselves:

“Lord Lu has gone too far this time!”

“It’s one thing if he has a history of conflict with Prime Minister Zhuo, but what fault does the new bride bear in all of this?”

“Exactly! Didn’t Lord Lu himself appeal to the Crown Prince for this imperial marriage edict? And now, on the very first day, he doesn’t even provide her with a meal!”

“How disgraceful!”

Lu Mian endured a round of criticism, his cold eyes scanning the crowd one by one before storming back home in fury.

At the Lu residence.

Leng Muling had returned earlier and was already halfway through composing an essay titled *”Ode to the Shanglin Garden.”*

Her handwriting was consistently delicate and elegant, radiating a playful charm.

Leng Qiu couldn’t help but marvel at her beautiful penmanship. “Miss appears so calm and composed; your writing has become even more refined, not at all like when you were injured and every stroke carried a melancholy air.”

During the time when her leg was injured, Leng Muling spent her days crying endlessly, which terrified Leng Qiu.

She truly feared Leng Muling would sink into despair, consumed by her sadness and unable to recover.

Setting her brush down, Leng Muling carefully examined her work. “Life is full of hardships. How could I let a single major setback leave me unable to move forward?”

From now on, she would never again be consumed by sorrow as she had been in the past.

Leng Qiu broke into a smile. “Miss is absolutely right. Allow me to fetch the tea that His Highness gifted you and brew you a nice cup!”

She cheerfully moved to the gift box, only to encounter Lu Mian entering the room.

Lu Mian glanced at the tabletop, piled with boxes of gifts from the palace, and swept them all to the floor with a flick of his sleeve.

“Crash—”

The prized box of snowy Tianshan tea leaves, gifted by Chu Heng, immediately spilled across the floor, becoming soiled with dust.

“My lord, what are you doing? These are all rewards from His Highness!”

Leng Qiu clenched her teeth.

It was enough that he had failed to feed her Miss, but even the Crown Prince’s rewards were now being tossed aside!

“Get out!”

Lu Mian glared at her, his expression filled with disdain, radiating an intimidating air.

Leng Qiu instinctively flinched.

“Leng Qiu, you may leave for now. Husband has something to say to me in private.”

Leng Muling quietly put away her brush and ink, then rose gracefully.

Her hair was styled in a matron’s chignon, and she wore a coral-colored dress, exuding the poised air of a commanding mistress of the house.

With worry written across her face, Leng Qiu stepped out but lingered by the door.

Not long after she exited, she heard a loud crashing sound from within.

Inside, Leng Muling stood calmly, watching as Lu Mian vented his anger by tossing Chu Heng’s gifts to the ground.

Her lips curled slightly in amusement. “It seems Husband endured quite the humiliation at court today.”

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