SWHCBB 3

Chapter 3 – My Husband Secretly Puts on Makeup Behind My Back Every Day!

Knowing that Wen Jue couldn’t see, Jiang Chuang had him sleep on the outer side of the bed and ordered a small wooden table placed by the bedside with anything he might need if he woke in the night.

Worried he might get scratched by the cabinet’s sharp corner, he laid a silk cloth over it and held it down temporarily with a tea set.

He tied two pendants with beads at the head of the bed to act as “wind chimes”—the sound of the beads clinking together was enough to wake Jiang Chuang.

Once everything was ready, he looked down at Wen Jue, who was leaning quietly against the headboard, listening to his movements, and smiled. “Tomorrow when we go to the market, let’s buy a proper wind chime with a nice sound. That way, whenever I hear it ring, I’ll know you’re calling me.”

Then he straightened the boots they had hastily kicked off earlier, took Wen Jue’s hand, and let him feel the edge of the bed.

“From now on, you’ll sleep on the outside. Whether you get up in the night or early in the morning, it’ll be more convenient. I’ve placed your shoes right here—just at the spot where your feet land when you get out of bed.”

The manor hadn’t prepared anything—Jiang Chuang seldom stayed at the general’s estate. Wen Jue’s marriage had been different from other princes’. The Emperor was so stingy he hadn’t even built a residence for him.

As if afraid Jiang Chuang might escape, they’d been married less than a month after the decree was issued.

Back then, Jiang Chuang had felt stifled and didn’t even consider preparing anything for his soon-to-be husband.

Wen Jue had already steeled himself for cold treatment and a life of polite estrangement. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have resorted to such a desperate tactic—to force guilt from Jiang Chuang in hopes of one day cultivating love.

The intimacy of the earlier night had brought Wen Jue immense pain. Even though pleasure eventually dulled the hurt, his body still ached all over.

All of this, he had expected. Jiang Chuang was a military man, and once he lost control, his strength was something Wen Jue had to bear.

What caught him off guard was Jiang Chuang’s attitude now. Wen Jue didn’t know how to react. He could calculate everything but the human heart—and this moment left him confused.

His hearing was sharp, and he was skilled at judging emotions by pauses in speech, the force of pronunciation, the rhythm of breath.

He listened as Jiang Chuang busied himself deep into the night on his behalf, carefully considering every detail.

He heard Jiang Chuang soften his voice when speaking to him.

This man was gruff with everyone else, had no concept of politeness, and could shut down court ministers with a single sentence.

He was famously called a brute who only knew how to fight wars, a man so fierce he could silence a crying child just by standing there. He didn’t seem at all like this current Jiang Chuang—but Wen Jue liked this version.

“Alright, get some sleep. If you don’t, dawn will be here,” Jiang Chuang said as he helped him lie down.

Wen Jue turned slightly toward the sound of his voice, feeling Jiang Chuang’s breath. He smiled faintly. “Mm. Okay.”

Then he was pulled into Jiang Chuang’s arms. Jiang Chuang’s lips brushed his ear in a kiss. Wen Jue was quiet for a while before slowly reaching out to clasp his hand.

…

Jiang Chuang didn’t know when he fell asleep, but at daybreak, he heard Wen Jue’s voice.

“Husband, wake up.”

“Jiang Chuang…”

“We need to return to the palace to give thanks. Wake up.”

Jiang Chuang sat up with a jolt. When he saw the person beside him, he couldn’t believe it and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Wen Jue found his reaction odd and lightly patted his back. “It’s time to get ready.”

Jiang Chuang hadn’t slept long, but it felt like he’d dreamed for ages—so long he almost believed that returning to the wedding night five years ago had only been a beautiful dream.

That when he woke up, he was just a wandering soul trapped at the bottom of the cliff.

But thankfully, ghosts don’t dream—he really had come back!

Wen Jue could hear the heavy, trembling breath beside him. Jiang Chuang was clearly overwhelmed, even grief-stricken. It didn’t feel like sadness over the marriage. On the contrary, he seemed to cherish him deeply.

Why? Wen Jue was full of questions, but he didn’t ask.

After calming down, Jiang Chuang noticed the candlelight in the room had already been lit and the sky outside was nearly fully bright.

He released Wen Jue, just about to explain something—only to see him sitting neatly at the edge of the bed. His long black hair had been tidied, his inner robes changed, and a light scent of sandalwood lingered in the air.

His brows were a bit darker, his complexion more rosy, a new ‘mole’ had appeared at the corner of his eye, and his lips were slightly redder.

Jiang Chuang asked, “You’re up this early? Didn’t sleep well? Are you still hurting anywhere?”

Wen Jue lowered his head slightly and shook it, calm and composed. “No. I just woke up. My personal attendant was worried we’d oversleep and miss the time to return to the palace, so he came to wake me.”

At that, Jiang Chuang raised an eyebrow. Just woke up? Who was he trying to fool?

He was no longer the dense, blind-to-details Jiang Chuang from his past life who had neglected Wen Jue. Last night, while Wen Jue slept, Jiang Chuang had studied his face again and again—he’d committed every detail to memory.

Now, any change in Wen Jue’s appearance couldn’t be more obvious to him.

And it brought back the memory of their past life, when they were fleeing in desperation. At one point, Wen Jue had dejectedly covered Jiang Chuang’s eyes, not letting him look.

“General Jiang, you’d better not look. I must be hideous now. A blind burden who can’t even stay clean and tidy after losing Changning.”

Changning was Wen Jue’s attendant. After Wen Jue was captured, Changning had died protecting him.

At the time, Jiang Chuang didn’t understand. “We’re running for our lives. What does it matter if you’re clean or not? We don’t even know if we’ll survive—why care about appearances?”

Wen Jue’s voice had been soft, understated. “To General Jiang, the only valuable thing I have is this half decent face. I just don’t want to ruin how I appear in your eyes. Is that alright?”

Jiang Chuang had been struck silent… Was his lust really that obvious?

Well, it wasn’t entirely his fault! Wen Jue always seemed to seduce him on purpose. Back then, Jiang Chuang could barely get through a proper conversation with him when they were alone.

But Wen Jue didn’t know—his fragile, disheveled state only made him harder to resist.

Jiang Chuang had been silent for a long time. He’d wanted to explain, to comfort Wen Jue, to tell him he didn’t need to cling to his looks so tightly…

But the two of them hadn’t yet reconciled. He had come to rescue Wen Jue out of conscience—not because he had forgiven him for everything in the past.

Of course, a few days later, he would regret it deeply. Why hadn’t he forgiven him sooner? But by then… it was too late.

So the kind words had stayed unsaid. He just pulled Wen Jue’s hand away, dragged him to the riverbank, and tore a strip of cloth from his clothes.

He washed it clean in the river, then used it to wipe Wen Jue’s face and hands…

Wen Jue had whispered a “thank you,” then carefully loosened his tangled hair, asking Jiang Chuang to turn away before he dared to wipe down his body.

After he had cleaned himself thoroughly, he combed his hair with his fingers and tied it back into a neat bundle before letting out a soft sigh.

Then he murmured to himself, “If Changning were still here, he could’ve burned some twigs into charcoal to draw my brows.”

When he was done, Jiang Chuang turned around. Though they were still legally married, they felt as distant as strangers.

Seeing the faint redness at the corners of Wen Jue’s eyes, Jiang Chuang knew he was mourning Changning—and didn’t know what to say.

It was then he saw Wen Jue’s bare face, clean and free of dust—his first time seeing him so natural.

It was very different from the usual Wen Jue. Like all his adornments, all his disguises had been washed away.

What stood before him was a clean, simple Wen Jue—and Jiang Chuang’s heart softened.

Now, the Wen Jue sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for him to wake up had already put the disguise back on: powder on his face, brows carefully drawn, subtle but unmistakable.

Jiang Chuang finally saw the truth behind the mask—and his heart ached.

In their past life, this was how Wen Jue always appeared after marriage.

So all along, even in front of him, Wen Jue had lived so tensely—believing Jiang Chuang only loved his outward beauty.

Or perhaps… that his appearance was the only thing worth showing off. So he held onto it with everything he had, hoping to control Jiang Chuang with it.

Fortunately, reborn into this life, Jiang Chuang could finally see through his little tricks.

It didn’t matter… Jiang Chuang smiled, leaned in, and gently kissed his lips.

“What good fortune have I done to deserve such a divine beauty for a husband?”

As expected, Wen Jue gave a soft smile.

And from this day forward, Jiang Chuang would slowly, bit by bit, peel away all of Wen Jue’s disguises.