TAMW CH60

By the time Qingming was two and a half years old, preparations to connect Baizhou to the railway were underway.

Baizhou was not the terminus; several large neighboring counties needed integration, and the northern metropolises beyond Baizhou represented an enormous, untapped market.

The interlocking railway components were all imported. The parts Zhou Xiao had initially brought from France were nearly depleted after a year’s use.

Domestic alternatives existed, but their use drastically increased the frequency of maintenance and repairs. Furthermore, there had already been numerous horrific incidents of workers being crushed by trains during inspections of faulty domestic parts. Given the high replacement rate and negligible price difference—and the fact that shipments could now dock directly at their own harbor—importing from France remained the superior choice.

Moreover, the parts factory in France was Zhou Xiao’s own enterprise, a business he had built during his university days.

To secure these components, a trip to France was unavoidable.

As the boss, overseeing a massive shipment leaving France required Zhou Xiao’s presence in person.

Yet a round trip would take at least three months.

Basking in the domestic bliss of a warm bed, a loving wife, and a child, how could Zhou Xiao willingly depart?

Reluctant to leave, he tried to stall for a few days after receiving the urgent dispatch regarding the parts shortage. Now serving as Chamber President, such grave matters naturally had to be reported to Yuqing.

Ever since Qingming’s birth, the two had seen each other day and night—and partaken of each other day and night.

Having shared deep, marital bliss for barely two years, how could he casually abandon his wife while they were still in the thick of their honeymoon phase, sweet as honey mixing with oil?

Hearing him describe their dynamic as “newlyweds” and “sweet as honey mixing with oil,” Yuqing nearly tripped over his own feet.

It had been two and a half years. Even true newlyweds would have cooled their ardor somewhat by now.

Yet Yuqing found that Zhou Xiao’s clinginess seemed to grow in tandem with Qingming’s age, only ever increasing, never waning.

Zhou Xiao called him “Mother” far more often than Qingming did.

Yuqing felt utterly helpless watching Zhou Xiao pack his trunks, attempting to stuff their mattress, quilts, bed curtains, and even the candlesticks into the car—seeming to believe that if Yuqing had merely brushed against a pillar in the courtyard, he ought to have it sawed down and brought along.

He was loath to leave, and equally loath to leave Qingming behind. Burying his face in Yuqing’s neck, he wept silently.

When the man threw tantrums, Yuqing knew how to handle him; once coaxed, he would obediently board the ship. But this silent display of pure grievance and reluctance terrified Yuqing.

He knew perfectly well that if Zhou Xiao neither threw a fit nor made a fuss, it meant he would absolutely refuse to board that ship unless he got his way.

Having shared a pillow for two and a half years, Yuqing understood him that much.

His goal was painfully obvious: he wanted Yuqing to accompany him to France.

Yuqing was torn. “I’ve never traveled far, and Qingming is still so small…”

Qingming was indeed young and couldn’t bear to be parted from his mother for a single step, nor would Yuqing find peace leaving him behind.

More importantly, the furthest Yuqing had ever traveled in his life was that fateful trip to Shencheng to conceive a child with Zhou Xiao; he had never ventured beyond.

Seeing Yuqing’s reluctance and mindful of the child’s tender age, Zhou Xiao’s heart softened. Hanging his head in disappointment, he murmured, “Alright.”

“Does the ship stop in Shanghai first?” Yuqing asked. “How about I take Qingming and come along? If he doesn’t get seasick, then I’ll have to trouble the Master to look after us father and son.”

“After all, we’ve never traveled far,” Yuqing added with a warm smile.

Wrapping his arms around Yuqing’s waist, Zhou Xiao nuzzled his cheek, murmuring low, “I knew Madam loved me…”

They could not leave Baizhou unattended. Deng Yongquan was ordered to stay behind and manage miscellaneous affairs.

Because his wife was accompanying him, Zhou Xiao’s luggage instantly shrank to a single trunk, containing only a rattle drum to coax the child and a tin of soothing balm; nothing else mattered.

Qingming had reached the age of weaning and now ate rice porridge and assorted purees. Plump and adorable, he had grown delightfully heavy; Yuqing could no longer carry him with one arm.

Since childbirth, Yuqing’s lower back was indeed weaker than before.

Zhou Xiao massaged it frequently. Aside from an inability to lift heavy objects, he suffered no aches during damp or rainy days. The physician attributed this to the meticulous care he received during his confinement month, which had drastically minimized long-term discomfort.

Zhou Xiao’s greatest fear was that Qingming would fall ill on the ship.

If the child felt unwell, his wife would disembark at Shanghai and take him home, condemning Zhou Xiao to nearly three months of separation from his spouse…

The moment the ship’s horn blew, Zhou Xiao hovered constantly by Qingming’s bed, asking, “Does anything hurt? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

Qingming stared with wide, round eyes, shaking his head blankly. Feeling the ship begin to move, he clapped his hands in curious excitement. “Sea~ Daddy, we’re driving in the sea!”

Seeing the little fellow entirely unfazed, Zhou Xiao breathed a massive sigh of relief.

Yuqing had packed several Western suits, assuming that traditional gowns would be out of place in France.

Zhou Xiao assured him it didn’t matter; they were heading to his own estates and enterprises, and no one would dare utter a word.

Having worn long gowns for so many years, Yuqing felt out of place changing them. He decided to remain in his gown on the ship, agreeing to change into suits only upon disembarking.

Zhou Xiao naturally yielded to his every wish.

They had booked passage on a luxury liner with seven decks; passenger suites occupied the middle tiers, with the promenade deck just below.

From their suite, the view was an endless expanse of azure ocean; with the windows sealed, the roar of the waves vanished entirely.

Qingming clung to the window, watching the sea for a long while before excitedly devouring a bowl of rice puree. Soon after, he was whisked away to the adjoining nursery by their accompanying nanny to sleep.

A child’s stamina was limited, and having just boarded the ship, Yuqing felt the boy needed extra rest to acclimate.

The child had been playing in the parlor earlier, so the balcony doors had been shut tight. Now that he was asleep, Yuqing pushed the balcony doors open. The sea breeze hit him instantly, and he found that his own adaptability was poorer than his child’s—he actually felt a wave of seasickness.

Holding his long pipe, Yuqing’s gown whipped and fluttered in the brisk sea wind.

The gale was so fierce it loosened his jade hairpin. Pulling it free, his long hair spilled down in a sudden cascade. Hearing footsteps approach from behind, he knew without looking it was his husband.

Handing the hairpin and pipe to Zhou Xiao, Yuqing reached back and tied his hair into a low tail with a simple cord—the very cord used for Qingming’s hair.

Watching him busy tying his hair, Zhou Xiao pulled a lighter from his pocket. Placing the mouthpiece between his lips, he lit the dried jasmine leaves within; Yuqing had recently resumed smoking dried mint leaves.

Managing the Chamber of Commerce often left him drowsy, and the mint leaves provided a necessary jolt of clarity.

Jasmine and mint leaves were bitter to inhale, but they bloomed with a rich floral fragrance over the tongue, exhaling a lingering, endless scent through the nose while leaving a sharp, minty coolness in the mouth, instantly clearing a muddled mind.

Having secured his hair, Yuqing cupped Zhou Xiao’s jaw, tilting it toward him. Leaning in slightly, he captured his lips. Zhou Xiao seamlessly breathed the sweet smoke into Yuqing’s mouth.

As their lips met, a white mist swirled between their locking gazes.

Zhou Xiao offered a faint smile, proactively passing the pipe to his lips. “Madam, your leaves are lit.”

“Thank you, Master,” Yuqing accepted it with a smiling glint in his eyes.

Holding the pipe with delicate fingers, he felt Zhou Xiao’s arm snake around his waist, murmuring into his ear, “You’re most welcome, Madam.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” he asked.

The warm breath tickled Yuqing’s ear. Taking a deep draw of the mint leaves, a thin wisp of smoke escaped his nose, instantly swept away by the sea breeze. “Manageable. Just dizzy enough to want to sleep.”

The sea wind carried a briny, damp tang, yet Yuqing’s mouth was sweet and fragrant. Zhou Xiao nuzzled against his cheek. “Shall we go inside and sleep for a bit?”

“No.” Yuqing chuckled low. “Qingming just fell asleep. I noticed the walls between these cabins are quite thin, likely lacking soundproofing; we’d wake the child…”

The smile on Zhou Xiao’s face deepened incrementally. Giving Yuqing’s thigh a deliberate, firm squeeze, he murmured, “I didn’t suggest anything of the sort. I merely worried the Madam was unwell and wished to coax you to sleep.”

“Oh? And when exactly have you ever had a history of ‘merely sleeping’ with me? Pray tell.”

Though hardly a sharp rebuke, Zhou Xiao parted his lips, unable to utter a single word in his defense.

In the end, he could only resort to pressing kisses against Yuqing’s neck, wheedling softly, “My good Qingqing, my sweet Qingqing, don’t be like this…”

“Am I not even allowed to speak the truth now?” Yuqing laughed softly into the wind. Whether from the sea breeze or the man’s fervent kisses, the back of his neck felt faintly damp.

Looking back, when had Zhou Xiao not tormented him?

Fearing the young man would squander his vitality through reckless indulgence, risking physical decline in his later years, Yuqing had recently laid down ground rules: intimacy was restricted to half the month, or they must rest for two days after every encounter.

Otherwise, Yuqing truly felt tempted to arrange a concubine for him.

By day, Yuqing navigated the treacherous currents between the Chamber and the port, occasionally attending banquets hosted by prominent bosses. His stamina was poor, and returning home, he was often exhausted beyond words. Seeing him truly drained, Zhou Xiao would spare him his usual antics, merely holding him tightly from behind.

Yet pressed skin to skin, how could Yuqing remain oblivious to the man’s temperature and state?

Zhou Xiao possessed an intensity that seemed entirely prepared to drown and die within him.

Given that several times a day barely seemed to slake his thirst, Yuqing was genuinely terrified of him.

He couldn’t help but wonder: How did he ever survive before we married?

Fearing the sea breeze would chill him, Zhou Xiao fetched a shawl and draped it over his shoulders. The two leaned their forearms against the railing, gazing out at the horizon.

The sunset had faded, leaving the ocean a deep, ink-stained blue.

Looking down from the railing, the promenade deck was visible below, and the two decided to take a stroll.

The evening wasn’t terribly cold. Inside, the captain’s gala was underway, drawing most of the passengers. The soulful, jazzy notes of a saxophone drifted into the night air, mingling with the rhythmic crash of the waves.

Lively laughter spilled from the ballroom, but Yuqing had never cared for such gatherings; he preferred watching the sea.

Having guarded Baizhou for so many years, staring at the same stretch of water, this was his very first time truly sailing away.

The voyage to France would take a full month.

Knowing they would spend such a vast expanse of time upon the ocean, Yuqing asked, “Zezhi, when you left Baizhou at fourteen, were you lonely?”

“Why do you ask?” Zhou Xiao turned, leaning his back against the railing.

Gazing out at the deepening night, Yuqing frowned slightly. “If Qingming were to travel so far at fourteen, I would be sick with worry, unable to bear parting. How could such a small child face a night like this alone…?”

The sea, a beautiful, brilliant azure by afternoon, transformed at night into an abyssal maw the moment one’s eyes left the ship’s lights, seemingly eager to swallow a person whole.

Moved by his words, Zhou Xiao felt a sudden heat in his eyes.

He took Yuqing’s hand, his gaze brimming with tender devotion. “Qingqing…”

A flush crept up Yuqing’s cheeks, and he moved to pull his hand away, but seeing no one around, he let him hold it.

When Zhou Xiao showed such rare vulnerability, Yuqing wished to remain by his side; it was his duty as a wife.

“Zezhi.”

When he called his name, a fragrant breeze swept straight into Zhou Xiao’s heart. Unable to resist, he pulled Yuqing’s hand up, pressing a meticulous kiss to the back of it. “I love you.”

“Foreign words?” Yuqing looked at his kissed hand, willingly repeating the phrase: “Tell me, what does it mean?”

Previously, when they exchanged letters, Zhou Xiao had never explained the meaning of ‘miss you’.

Zhou Xiao hooked an arm around his slender waist. As Yuqing stepped forward, his soft leather shoe stepped lightly onto Zhou Xiao’s polished Oxford; stepping back, Zhou Xiao’s foot followed seamlessly, the movement echoing the opening steps of a waltz.

Holding him by the waist, Zhou Xiao murmured close to his ear: “I love you.”

“I want to live with you, die in the same grave as you, life after life, never to be parted.”

“Such a long explanation for just a few short words?” Yuqing asked with a knowing smile.

Seeing through the ruse, Zhou Xiao replied with unhurried grace, “Does Madam believe it or not?”

Yuqing rested his head gently against his chest, placing his own palm flat against the other side. Looking down, Zhou Xiao saw his long lashes flutter. Cupping the back of his head, he heard Yuqing murmur, “If the Master says it, Yuqing naturally believes it.”

The music from the captain’s gala floated over the promenade deck.

Zhou Xiao taught Yuqing how to waltz.

Yuqing’s body was incredibly pliant, his waist swaying like a water snake after childbirth. Caught by the sea breeze, his shawl flared dramatically, outlining his graceful silhouette against the night.

Zhou Xiao’s wife was brilliant; he mastered the steps perfectly on the very first try.

The two danced together on the open deck.

Yuqing murmured, “Perhaps we should have a gramophone at home.”

Zhou Xiao answered, “We’ll buy one in France this time. Once we’re home, we’ll dance every single night.”

Yuqing let out a low chuckle, tilting his head back to ask, “Master, from now on, I won’t consult you on such matters. Where to place it, what color it should be—you’ll have no say, only nod your head. Won’t that be far too easy for you?”

“I listen to you in all things…” Zhou Xiao declared. “Whatever Madam chooses is naturally the absolute best.”

Before the words fully settled, a sudden thought struck him, and he hurriedly added: “Except for taking a concubine.”

“Good heavens—” Yuqing sighed. “I wouldn’t dare dream of it again.”

He truly wouldn’t even dare think it.

Back home, every time he climbed out of bed with trembling legs the following morning, the thought of arranging a concubine for Zhou Xiao flickered in his mind. He had only mentioned it vaguely over dinner a few times, casually noting that the house felt a bit quiet and could use a lively presence.

Zhou Xiao had caught his drift instantly, demanding to know if he intended to bring someone in.

Thinking the man was receptive, Yuqing had replied that if the Master wished it, it would naturally be fine.

Zhou Xiao had slammed his chopsticks down and thrown a spectacular fit, changing faces faster than Qingming ever could.

Though Yuqing was now the Chamber President, he had been raised in a deeply feudal environment; his views were old-fashioned, and men taking multiple wives and concubines was entirely commonplace.

Zhou Xiao was infuriated that Yuqing had never sought to monopolize him, showing not a shred of possessiveness.

He resented that Yuqing did not seem to love him as fiercely as he loved Yuqing, terrified that one day Yuqing might push him away.

Yet it wasn’t that Yuqing didn’t love him; as a man himself, he understood the agony of pent-up frustration and simply didn’t want him to suffer needlessly.

Zhou Xiao had roared, ‘Do you think I think entirely with my lower half?! Without that, am I suddenly incapable of living a life with you?!’

Yuqing had mused inwardly that given the vast amount of time they spent tangled in bed, how much time was truly left for “living a life”?

But before he could ponder further, Zhou Xiao had smashed teacups, snapped writing brushes, and in a final fit of rage, shoved the heavy folding screen to the floor, bellowing, “Qingqing, you have no conscience!”

With that, he had dove headfirst into the quilts, a massive man bundled up tight. Yuqing was left stranded—coaxing him felt wrong, yet leaving him be felt worse, caught in an impossible bind.

To hear Zhou Xiao tell it, Yuqing was a wicked man who had only toyed with his innocence to secure a child.

‘Now that the child is born, how many days of peace have we had? You go out and build your business, your empire grows, and the moment you have no time to deal with me, you eagerly try to shove someone else into my bed!’

Yuqing had thought to himself: That wasn’t exactly fair…

He was merely afraid that Zhou Xiao, young and bursting with vitality, would exhaust him completely.

Yuqing couldn’t quite remember how he eventually coaxed him back, only that his thighs were left dotted with countless teeth marks, making wearing trousers an agonizing ordeal for days.

After that incident, Yuqing never dared utter a word on the subject again.

Hearing Zhou Xiao bring it up now, Yuqing only wanted to smooth it over as quickly as possible; otherwise, given his temper, he would complain once, act spoiled once, and throw a pity party once.

“My good Master, I beg you, please don’t torment me over this again,” Yuqing pleaded for mercy.

With his hand resting on the man’s chest, radiating boundless tenderness, Zhou Xiao couldn’t possibly refuse him: “Madam must not misunderstand me.”

After enjoying the sea breeze a while longer, Zhou Xiao felt Yuqing’s hands growing chilly and suggested they head back inside.

“Please, wait a moment.” Just as they reached the cabin doors, a voice called out from behind them.

“This is for you.” The approaching man was Caucasian, speaking accented but comprehensible Mandarin. “Very beautiful.”

Zhou Xiao accepted it, finding a quick sketch.

Their silhouettes had been captured vibrantly on the paper.

Curious, Yuqing tilted his head closer, asking with a crinkling smile, “Is this me?”

Zhou Xiao held his waist, tenderly raising one of his hands to press a lingering kiss to the back of it. In the sketch, Yuqing gazed at him with eyes brimming with soft devotion, his long hair catching the wind against the vast, dark night, framing a moment of perfect happiness for the two of them on the deck.

With a friendly smile, the foreigner detached the sketch from his board, suddenly uttering a phrase in a foreign tongue.

Unable to understand, Yuqing asked Zhou Xiao, “What did he say?”

Wrapping an arm around Yuqing’s shoulders, Zhou Xiao replied, “He wished us a good evening.”

Yuqing realized belatedly, “He didn’t find anything amiss with us being like this.”

Zhou Xiao explained that in France, it was not uncommon for men to be together, much like the pageboys of old, kept specifically as bedmates.

But…

Yuqing wore his hair long. Though tall, his features possessed a bewitching allure; at a glance, he could easily be mistaken for an exceptionally tall woman.

After all, while they danced, the man couldn’t clearly see Yuqing’s face.

Draped in a shawl, it was perfectly natural for him to remain unrecognized.

“It’s beautifully drawn,” Yuqing murmured, looking down at the sketch. “In the old days, only a husband and wife could be painted together in a single portrait…”

“Are we not husband and wife? Besides, we’ve already taken photographs together, which are far more accurate than paintings. In the future, our children, grandchildren, and generations to come will all see how deeply we loved each other.”

“Two men—it will only make the children laugh.”

Though Yuqing’s words were dismissive, the corners of his lips curved into a smile.

“If two men can give them life, they should count their blessings and rejoice in secret. We gave them life, allowed them to walk this earth, see the flowers, watch the clouds, and experience joy, sorrow, anger, and delight… love, hate, obsession, and foolishness… Yuqing, living like this is deeply fulfilling.”

Yuqing nodded. In his youth, his father had taught him principles; after marriage, Zhou Xiao taught him fresh, modern truths he had never heard before.

He was always endlessly fascinating.

Being with Zhou Xiao was indeed deeply fulfilling.

Zhou Xiao carefully preserved the sketch, placing it at the very bottom of his trunk the moment they returned to the cabin.

Having coaxed the child to sleep, the nanny saw them return and slipped out of the side room, leaving the family of three to their private time.

At two and a half years old, Qingming was a delightfully plump toddler.

His features were filling out, showing traces of them both—a hint of Zhou Xiao’s elongated eyes, mixed with Yuqing’s slight, feline upward tilt. Sound asleep, he looked as innocent and well-behaved as a soft dumpling.

Stroking the hair at the boy’s temple, Yuqing couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his plump cheek.

Seeing the subtle curve of his lips, Zhou Xiao asked softly, “What are you smiling at?”

“In the past, seeing other families raise such chubby children, I used to think they indulged their appetites far too much, turning them into round New Year paintings. Now, looking at Qingming, I wonder if I am simply too soft-hearted…”

A two-and-a-half-year-old child weighing nearly thirty catties was indeed excessively plump.

Yet he was too adorable, and his sweet tongue was undoubtedly inherited from Zhou Xiao.

In his infancy, the wet nurse’s milk had been rich and plentiful. Later, when he began eating rice porridge, Yuqing’s own milk had supplemented his diet. With such abundant nourishment, by the time he transitioned to pureed foods, his appetite was already formidable.

Other children might constantly soil their clothes and smear food all over their faces.

Not Qingming. He would diligently scrape his bowl clean with his spoon, then hoist the empty bowl high in the air, staring expectantly at Zhou Xiao.

The child was exceptionally bright and perceptive, though he disliked speaking much, preferring to blink his large eyes at his father.

Moved by his son’s earnest gaze, Zhou Xiao would inevitably beg for another bowl of food on the boy’s behalf.

Faced with the earnest, pleading gazes of both father and son asking for more puree, Yuqing could only relent in defeat.

As a result, during his crucial growing phase, the child’s weight spiked far faster than his height.

With such weight, it was entirely understandable that Yuqing could no longer carry him for long.

Bloodlines were truly a strange thing. Zhou Xiao despised his extended family, finding them repulsive since childhood, and felt utterly indifferent toward his own father upon growing up.

Yet now, looking at a child who bore his resemblance, but with his beloved’s blood flowing through his veins, the mere sight of him brought Yuqing—and everything about Yuqing—flooding into his mind.

So this was what it meant to love a house and its crows.

“It’s not being soft-hearted; Qingqing is simply a wonderful mother.” Seeing Yuqing kiss their son but forget to kiss him, Zhou Xiao leaned in eagerly, pressing a kiss to Yuqing’s cheek.

Yuqing stroked his face: “He’s still a child; there will be plenty of time to trim his weight later.”

“Exactly…”

Suppressing a laugh, Yuqing gave Zhou Xiao’s ear a light twist. “Whatever you say is right, isn’t it?”

“What’s wrong with that? Every word you speak makes perfect sense; can I not prostrate myself in sheer admiration?” Zhou Xiao lay clingily across his thighs. “Qingqing, this is the happiest trip to France I’ve ever taken.”

In the past, he had always traveled alone.

Staring into the dark night, feeling the rolling waves—even on a crowded liner with a bustling captain’s gala, he had always felt utterly alone in the world.

This time, he was finally no longer alone.

Sensing someone stroking him, Qingming reached out a chubby little hand to grasp it, murmuring in his sleep, “Mother…”

Yuqing responded with gentle warmth, affectionately smoothing the hair on his forehead. “Yes, Mother is here.”

“Daddy…” Hearing the voice, Zhou Xiao immediately scrambled up, offering his hand for the child to grasp as well.

“Daddy is here.”

Hearing their voices, the child smiled blissfully without opening his eyes, smacking his lips a few times before drifting back into deep sleep.

“This little fellow,” Yuqing looked at his adorable face, his eyes overflowing with tender warmth. “Such a sleepyhead.”

“He just boarded the ship; sleeping extra is to be expected.”

“Little Qingming, once we disembark, you’ll see the France where your Daddy lived for so many years.”

“Mm~” Qingming rolled over, burrowing deeper into Yuqing’s embrace.