TAMW CH3

Early morning, the sky was just turning a dim grey.

Yuqing heard the chamber door open, followed by a loud bang as it slammed shut again.

The man had stormed off as if laden with deep resentment, closing the door so violently that the frame nearly shattered from the impact.

Outside, Deng Yongquan, who had been waiting for a long time, could be heard chasing after him and shouting: “Eldest Young Master, Eldest Young Master, where are you going? The Young Mistress is…”

“Get lost!”

The servants outside clamored in an attempt to block his path.

In the early days of spring, the dawn carried a distinct chill.

From beneath the red bridal quilt of soft mulberry silk, a hand as pale as white jade slid out and dropped languidly. His ink-black hair cascaded down like a waterfall. As he sat up, an intense ache in his lower back made it difficult to even sit upright.

His constitution had always been frail. The soft-bone incense had not burned for long, and even though he had swallowed mint leaves to refresh his mind, he had barely managed to hold out for the span of two incense sticks.

He had originally assumed that since Zhou Xiao was a virgin, it would be over quickly—once the deed was done, that would be the end of it.

Who could have guessed that after the first round, Zhou Xiao would prove utterly relentless? All those curses about things being “disgusting and vile” were swallowed back down his throat.

In the latter half of the night, Zhou Xiao had fallen silent, lifting Yuqing’s hips with furious resentment to vent his lust, squeezing so hard that Yuqing’s waist felt on the verge of snapping.

Even when Yuqing let out soft whimpers of pain, the young master acted like a wolfhound that had just grown its fangs, biting and sucking to vent his spite, leaving teeth marks behind…

He had even demanded to know when the medicine’s effects would finally wear off.

With the drug’s effects lingering endlessly, he found it impossible to stop. He didn’t love men in the slightest, much less did he wish to lie entangled with another man. His eyes were filled with an uncontrollable sense of humiliation, wanting nothing more than for the effects to pass quickly.

This was quite different from what Yuqing had envisioned.

When the physician prescribed the formula, he only mentioned that it would make one’s limbs go limp; he hadn’t said anything about aphrodisiac properties…

Had the physician simply forgotten to mention it?

Frowning slightly, Yuqing dragged his trembling, exhausted legs out of bed. His reflection appeared in the slightly warped bronze mirror.

His body was covered in finger marks. His skin was so pale that it made this wolf pup Zhou Xiao seem all the more savage.

Drip.

As Yuqing moved his feet, another drop of clear fluid hit the floorboards.

Drip.

Drip.

“Mmh…” Yuqing pulled on his long robe, doing his best to make himself look presentable, though his legs were so numb and weak he could barely control them.

Zhou Xiao was three years younger than him, robust, and completely new to the experience; the ordeal had been genuinely torturous. His reckless, clumsy thrusts had forcefully breached and overfilled the narrow, tight passage until it spilled over.

Carrying a chronically ill body, Yuqing held all of it inside as he knelt upon the prayer mat, kowtowing before the statue of Guanyin and making a solemn wish.

“I pray the Bodhisattva grant my wish, that I may carry on the Zhou family’s bloodline.”

Only with a child would Father feel at ease handing the Zhou family over to him. The port and the Zhou family’s tens of millions in wealth—he wanted all of it.

His slender frame was delicate and alluring; as he bowed to kowtow, he looked like an exquisite white crane…

A moment later, a servant entered the room carrying a pot of freshly warmed medicine. Zhao Fu bent at the waist, holding it up with both hands: “Young Mistress, the medicine is ready.”

“Mm,” Ruan Yuqing acknowledged languidly, straightening his back and holding one hand suspended in mid-air.

Zhao Fu quickly set down the medicine pot and extended a hand to support him. “The Eldest Young Master is making a fuss outside, demanding to leave…”

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.

Zhou Xiao’s short hair was unstyled by pomade this morning, stray strands dangling across his forehead. Beneath his sharp, tailored Western suit, his chest and back were covered in scratch marks left by Ruan Yuqing.

Dressed in a Western suit, he actually looked quite like an earnest student.

Zhou Xiao was handsome. It was said that Western academies enjoyed baseball and polo; perhaps Zhou Xiao played those as well, given his strong build and healthy complexion.

He strode back in, surrounded by servants who weren’t allowed to let him leave the manor, all of whom dropped hurriedly to their knees outside the doorway, not daring to enter.

Yuqing sat upright before the table, sipping the pitch-black, bitter tonic without an expression on his face.

Looking at the bowl, he actually hesitated for a brief moment. If the physician’s soft-bone powder was so unreliable, what about this pregnancy medicine…?

Forget it.

He pursed his lips and drank it down as usual.

Noticing that Yuqing coughed twice, Zhao Fu hastily excused himself to arrange for a brazier to be brought inside.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zhou Xiao suppressed his fury with every ounce of dignity he could muster, his chest heaving as he demanded, “Why am I still not allowed to leave the manor?”

“I clearly already—”

The marriage has been consummated, so what more do you want?

The words reached the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them aloud. He felt only shame—a grown man having been… Better not to think about it!

It was all the fault of whatever drug Ruan Yuqing had used, and that deadly, pliable waist of his!

Yuqing lifted his eyes slightly, and the servants remained kneeling on the floor. With the old housekeeper absent, they lacked a backbone and could only await the Young Mistress’s orders.

“The Young Master wishes to leave already? I thought the Young Master would change his mind, just as you did last night…” He paused mid-sentence, calmly continuing to drink his medicine. Words that were as mild as could be sounded obscenely suggestive coming from his lips.

Catching the subtle, disdainful smile at the corner of Yuqing’s mouth, how could Zhou Xiao not understand what he was referring to?

It was nothing more than his inability to swallow his anger last night, tormenting the man well into the latter half of the night until they collapsed into sleep, exhausted upon the damp bedding.

“That was only because you—” The words choked in his throat. His face flushed bright red, unable to spit them out.

It was only because Ruan Yuqing had drugged him! Otherwise, how could he have lost control?!

In school back in France, there weren’t many countrymen. Westerners were far more open, even sharing beds for a single night without taking on any responsibility. But Zhou Xiao had focused entirely on his studies, remaining exceptionally aloof. He had intended to return home to marry a woman after his own heart, upholding monogamy like a pair of faithful mandarin ducks, never putting his wife through the heartbreak his own mother suffered when watching her husband take in other women.

Who would have thought it would all be ruined by this Ruan Yuqing!

His very first time had been manipulated by drugs, causing him to lose all restraint—such a low, dirty trick!

How could he ever face the wife he truly wished to marry? Even if he didn’t have one now, if he met someone in the future, how could he be worthy of her after having touched a man?!

Hiding his past was not his style. Since he had married someone not of his choosing, he was doomed to never know romantic love in this lifetime.

If he couldn’t come to terms with it in the future, his only path would be to become a monk.

Was he supposed to spend his entire life with a man?

Absurd! Ridiculous!

Vulgar! Low! Disgusting!

Ruan Yuqing had ruined him…!!!

At the thought, an inexplicable fury flared within Zhou Xiao. Pulling out a chair, he sat down. “What will it take for you to let me leave? You’re a man.”

He sneered mockingly, “Don’t tell me you intend to use the petty tricks of an inner-courtyard concubine to force my compliance? A joke… what an absolute joke! Where is the old man? I want to see him. I want to see what you two—”

“Do not fret, Young Master. Later today, I will personally see you off to your ship.”

Zhou Xiao hadn’t expected him to agree so readily: “What?”

Ruan Yuqing wiped his mouth. Zhao Fu quickly shifted from kneeling to crawling forward on his knees, offering up a small dish of preserved fruits from the Liufu bakery with both hands.

Zhou Xiao remembered this Zhao Fu as well. He was originally the bastard son born to the Sixth Concubine and her illicit lover in the Zhou household. After a blood-paternity test, the Sixth Concubine was shoved into a well by the Main Wife and drowned, while Zhao Fu was left to scrape by in the servants’ quarters. Six years had passed, and that scrawny, dried-up little bastard had grown into a burly, strapping man, dressed in coarse hemp like a rough brute.

Kneeling, Zhao Fu hurriedly caught the date pit Yuqing spat out.

Sucking on the candied date removed the flesh easily. The fruit residue left on the pit was moist, glistening slightly in the sunlight with a sticky sheen—the saliva from Yuqing drinking that bitter medicine. Not much, but sparkling bright.

It dropped right into the center of Zhao Fu’s palm.

Zhou Xiao watched with his own eyes as Zhao Fu’s palm was stained with the saliva from the date pit.

It instantly brought back memories of Yuqing’s mouth last night, panting heavily for breath. With such a frail, sickly constitution, his mouth had grown dry from gasping, the saliva growing thicker, drawing glistening threads every time he opened and closed his lips…

“Insolent fool!” Zhou Xiao yanked Zhao Fu up from his spineless posture. “Who gave you permission to kneel?! Who let you all in here? Get out! All of you, get out!”

“The world has truly gone mad—utterly mad.” A faint redness crept into the rims of his eyes. “You make them kneel to serve you? We are all human beings; on what grounds do you do this? Just because you used underhanded schemes to become the Young Mistress?!”

“They all have human rights! The imperial dynasty fell long ago; this is the Republic now! Drop that rotten, archaic demeanor of the older generation! From now on, no one is permitted to kneel!”

Yuqing looked up in bewilderment, struggling to comprehend whether this Eldest Young Master had actually studied in the West or not.

Preaching freedom and equality at every turn, yet ordering servants around far more aggressively than anyone else.

Claiming servants shouldn’t kneel, yet calling people “insolent fools” in the very next breath with all the arrogance of a feudal master.

Truly…

Quite amusing. What on earth did people study when going abroad?

Did they learn obstinacy, selfishness, and hypocrisy?

Yuqing shook his head with a soft, helpless smile.

Zhao Fu was kicked out for no reason, scrambling on hands and knees in a desperate attempt to pick up the Young Mistress’s date pit.

However, Zhou Xiao snapped at him to halt, leaving him to stand outside, staring helplessly as the date pit was kicked into the corner, lodging underneath the desk in the southwest corner of the room, lost from view.

“Father should be waking soon. Since the Young Master said you wished to see him, shall we go pay him a visit?”

Zhou Xiao’s relationship with the old master had never been good, ever since he was a child.

“If you leave for another few years, who knows if Father will still be around for you to see again. Young Master, go take a look at him. Once the servants finish packing your things, I will see you off to the ship.”

His tone was gentle and soft. As he rose and approached, the jasmine scent lingering on him carried a faint bitterness—the scent of that dark medicine.

Zhou Xiao couldn’t understand.

Staring at Ruan Yuqing in utter confusion, he asked, “What is it you’re after? Money? I don’t want a single thing from the Zhou family, nor do I care for any of his wealth. Why go to such lengths to play house with me…”

Men were not like women. To think Ruan Yuqing had actually consummated the marriage with him purely because of some fortune-teller’s superstitious nonsense claiming their matching birth charts could ward off ill fortune and extend the dying old man’s life!

What era was this, to still be indulging in feudal superstitions?

Pedantic. Utterly pedantic to the extreme.

When would this vast Republic ever rid itself of these twisted, archaic customs? Seeing a grown man wasting away like this in the inner courtyards, Zhou Xiao felt only pity.

Abroad, motorcars filled the streets and photo studios were everywhere, yet in the eyes of people here, photography was still treated as witchcraft that stole souls—downright laughable.

Recalling how he was drugged last night, Zhou Xiao felt the lingering effects coursing through his blood. His mind was flooded with the image of Ruan Yuqing shielding his reddened eyes with his forearm, letting out soft whimpers that were intoxicatingly numb, unable to even utter a coherent “Eldest Young Master.”

Another wave of restless heat washed over him—he was irritated, and resentful!

He paused for a second, turning his head away to avoid looking at him, and added, “Degrading yourself while dragging others down with you!”

Yuqing seemed entirely unbothered by such biting words, looking as though he was long accustomed to them.

His slender frame stepped out the door. The servant behind him immediately handed over a shawl to drape over his shoulders. He merely said, “Let us go see Father.”

When Zhou Xiao had first returned to the manor, he had caught a glimpse through the window. His father was truly ill—hollow-cheeked, with the bedchamber exuding a stale, damp odor of rotting moss, bitterly cold and clammy.

He had rushed back for his father’s sake, only to be imprisoned in the estate by his own father and forced into a wedding. Simmering with fury, he couldn’t be bothered to go look at him right now.

Everything in this manor struck him as bizarre and utterly absurd.

Having finished his medicine, Yuqing did not wait for him. Fastening his shawl, he took the lead and stepped out of the courtyard gates.

“Young Master, should we follow?” Deng Yongquan asked from outside.

Zhou Xiao only wanted to leave. Pacing around the room for several rounds, he came to a stop at the southwest corner. Catching sight of the date pit, an inexplicable irritation flared up again.

He bent down and picked it up.

Making someone catch a date pit with their bare hand showed a complete disregard for basic human dignity. Utterly archaic. Everyone was raised by a mother and father; why should anyone have to catch his discarded date pit?

And that Zhao Fu was completely spineless.

The date pit was dusted with grime, yet still felt damp to the touch.

He thought to himself: This is a prime example. I must constantly remind myself never to treat human beings with such arrogance and disregard for equality like Ruan Yuqing does.

With that, the damp date pit dropped straight into Young Master Zhou’s suit pocket.

__

Author’s Note:

Zhou Xiao: As fellow human beings, can’t you servants show some backbone?! (Have some shame!)

Zhao Fu: I want to serve the Young Mistress.

Zhou Xiao: Even if you want to, you have to get in line! Shameless prick, we’re officially married! Even if you want to be a concubine, you still have to queue behind me! If I don’t give the nod, he has to spit the date pit right into my mouth!

Yuqing: [melts] What is wrong with him? Is he sick?

While other people roll walnuts and prayer beads in their hands, Zhou Xiao rolls the date pit spat out by his wife.

A classic sharp-tongued, stubborn hypocrite of a man.

Zhou Xiao: It wasn’t because of attraction at all—he drugged me! How could I possibly like men? Heh. [milk tea]

Yuqing: The medicine has no such effect, thank you very much. [melts]