TAMW CH34

The big dog circled its master, panting with a long string of drool dangling from its tongue. Yet, strictly mindful of its master’s rule forbidding it to come near, it could only whine through its nose before anxiously flopping down onto the flagstones.

“Whimper…” The hound fretted, letting out small, muffled cries.

Yuqing casually tossed the rattle drum, and the dog immediately bounded off to fetch it, tail wagging eagerly.

The bright moon hung high above.

Now that the real hound was gone, the clingy little dog pressed in.

Through the fabric of the long gown, Zhou Xiao rested his face against Yuqing’s lower abdomen. The young man kept his spine straight without bending, gently pressing his ear against Yuqing’s belly.

Through the thin layer of skin, there was little stir at first. After a short while, something inside gave a faint nudge—just the slightest flutter.

It was marvelous.

Zhou Xiao couldn’t help cupping Yuqing’s abdomen with both hands. Novelty urging him on, he applied a touch more pressure, listening intently with his ear flush against the skin. “It moved…”

“He’s kicking you.”

Yuqing let out a soft chuckle. His long lashes cast butterfly-shaped shadows beneath his eyes as his palm stroked Zhou Xiao’s head. He repeated, “The child is kicking you.”

Zhou Xiao whispered, “Does he know who I am?”

“Won’t he know once you let him?” Yuqing pressed his lips together, gently smoothing the short hair atop Zhou Xiao’s head over and over, his voice steeped in tenderness. “Qingming, this is Father…”

Tilting his head up slightly, Zhou Xiao saw Yuqing cradling his belly and speaking with such soft-spoken warmth.

He was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a tender mother.

At the thought of how deeply affectionate he was during pregnancy, Zhou Xiao couldn’t help twitching a few times beneath Yuqing’s foot.

Yuqing wore thin cloth shoes and naturally felt it. Tilting his head with a look of mild bewilderment, he asked, “Is Master Zhou’s temper flaring this high?”

Zhou Xiao’s face flushed. There was simply no denying his current state.

A rare prickle of shame rose in his chest.

Bearing life and raising a child were sacred, monumental duties. Yet his mind inevitably drifted to illicit fantasies—picturing Yuqing stripped bare, his pale, alabaster skin and that rounded belly on full display. Even when Yuqing wore the plainest long gown, Zhou Xiao’s mind instantly summoned every curve of his body, every inch of skin he had kissed, down to its scent and exact texture…

He grew utterly aroused by this maternal grace Yuqing embodied.

His wife was also a mother.

And Yuqing was stroking his hair.

Zhou Xiao rarely bent his spine. But if he knelt too upright, his tall frame forced his face flush against the swell of Yuqing’s belly. If he curved his back just a little…

Zhou Xiao’s nose trailed down from Yuqing’s abdomen, following that gentle slope until it was buried directly between Yuqing’s thighs. Even through the barrier of the gown, the fragrance rushed into his senses. There was no need to inhale deeply to feel completely intoxicated.

“Yuqing… I don’t want to go,” Zhou Xiao mumbled, face hidden between his thighs.

Yuqing felt a tickle where the man’s nose rubbed against his thighs. He tried to pull back, but before he could take half a step, Zhou Xiao firmly gripped the base of his thighs, giving him no avenue of escape.

“Ah—” Yuqing was swept up into a bridal carry.

Zhou Xiao’s body was young and robust. Unlike Yuqing, who had been frail and sickly from childhood, this was a vitality Yuqing had never possessed. In the crook of his arms, Yuqing felt as light as a bolt of silk.

Nervously draping his arms around Zhou Xiao’s neck, he asked in a low voice, “What are you doing?”

“You’ve teased me long enough, haven’t you?” Zhou Xiao’s voice came out raspy and dry. He couldn’t resist burying his nose near Yuqing’s temple, inhaling deeply. “It’s cold outside. We can’t have you catching a chill.”

Just moments ago, the thing under Yuqing’s foot had been prodding hard, radiating a heat fiercer than burning charcoal even through the sole of his shoe. Claiming he didn’t want him catching a chill, his hurried strides told an entirely different story.

Yuqing shrank his neck slightly as Zhou Xiao stole a kiss. With one hand resting over the man’s nape, his fingertip lightly tapped Zhou Xiao’s nose. “Does Master Zhou always have an excuse ready?”

“I told you, don’t call me Master.” Zhou Xiao set him down upon the wooden bed, latched the door, and hurriedly returned to pull off his shoes, covering his feet with scorching palms. “I gave you a courtesy name for nothing.”

Anyone else in the household calling him ‘Master’ flattered his vanity, but he despised hearing it from Yuqing’s lips. When others said ‘Master,’ it was a mark of power—proof that he held the reins of the Zhou family and commanded the respect of the entire estate. But when it came from Yuqing, Zhou Xiao was terrified—terrified that Yuqing was using him as a proxy to call for another man entirely.

He far preferred Yuqing calling him Zezhi.

Settled onto the mattress, Yuqing’s soles weren’t cold to begin with, yet Zhou Xiao warmed them with great zeal. He offered praise: “Thank you, Zezhi.”

Zhou Xiao let out a gruff snort through his nose.

Once the soles of Yuqing’s feet warmed up, Zhou Xiao scrambled onto the bed without delay. Tossing his suit jacket aside, his dress shirt stretched so taut over his chest it threatened to burst at the seams. While he didn’t look overly burly in a tailored suit, stripping down revealed an imposing, raw physique.

This hulking man curled himself onto the vintage wooden bed.

Zhou Xiao preferred sleeping on the inside against the wall.

“What time does Zezhi depart tomorrow?” Yuqing caressed his cheek, his tone light and soft.

Pulling the quilt over them both, Zhou Xiao assumed a posture where he practically lay cradled in Yuqing’s arms. His long arm hooked beneath Yuqing’s chest, his head buried in the hollow of his shoulder, and his long legs draped over Yuqing’s. It was a posture drenched in security—as if, with just a bit more curling, Zhou Xiao could shrink into an infant and burrow straight back into Yuqing’s belly.

“Whenever I wake up.”

Once news of Zhou Yulin’s demise broke tomorrow, it was inevitable that the police would sniff in his direction. The earlier he left, the better.

“Very well.”

Yuqing reached over, cradling the back of his head and lightly patting his shoulders. “Then, being all alone in Shencheng, you must take care of yourself…”

“I know. Can’t afford to lose weight. Have to treat myself well, and on top of that, dig up news on your little lover Jiang Sui for you. Truly a busy man,” he grumbled.

Hearing this, Yuqing easily caught the sharp vinegar in his tone.

Zhou Xiao held grievances with a vengeance. He could hang onto a petty morning squabble all the way to midnight. Simply because Yuqing wouldn’t recount his past with Jiang Sui, the man would fret and nag endlessly until he got an answer. He resembled a spoiled child denied a toy, throwing a persistent tantrum. If left unattended, he would make an even bigger fuss.

In his embrace, Zhou Xiao squeezed his eyes shut, his nose nuzzling Yuqing’s side. Separated by the gown, hearing no reply from Yuqing, he grew restless and nudged him with his body, letting out aggrieved whimpers just like the hound outside.

“Won’t you say something? Ruan Yuqing, what do you mean by this? Are you tacitly admitting he’s your lover?” With a choked throat, Zhou Xiao propped himself up on his forearms like a scoundrel, biting through the fabric of the gown to vent his frustration. “Why aren’t you denying it? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Speak,” he demanded again.

Yuqing pressed his lips together, swallowing his laughter.

He had always found Zhou Xiao’s temperament elusive, primarily because he himself was accustomed to navigating treacherous waters where every single step required anticipating three moves ahead. To Yuqing, many of Zhou Xiao’s actions were thoroughly baffling.

For instance, he would claim he loathed Yuqing, only to turn around and buy the exact candied dates and pastries Yuqing had once enjoyed. He constantly whined that Yuqing had ruined him, claiming hatred had taken deep root, yet he had secretly set fire to the Ruan family on his behalf, ensuring those compromising photographs never made the morning papers.

Zhou Xiao’s mouth was busy pushing him away.

Yet Zhou Xiao himself opened his arms with an aggrieved look, waiting for Yuqing to pull him in.

Watching him obsess over Jiang Sui without end, Yuqing finally understood the kind of man lying before him.

He was nothing more than an overgrown child.

Starved of security, terrified of being hurt, he had grown thick thorns to disguise himself long before anyone had the chance to wound him. What Zhou Xiao truly craved was a safe harbor—someone who would choose him, love him, and indulge his petty tempers a hundred times over without flinching.

Zhou Xiao frequently sang his own praises in front of him, likely advertising his own ‘charm’ out of fear that his harshness might drive Yuqing away. Desperate, he would brandish the crudest of virtues to cajole him.

Things like being well-endowed, or having handsome looks…

The mere thought of it made Yuqing want to laugh.

What good was being well-endowed? Plowing ahead without rhyme or reason, thrashing about blindly…

Never mind.

Yuqing thought: thankfully, he would soon have a child of his own. If Zhou Xiao needed him to raise him all over again, it was no great burden. It was merely tending to a slightly older child; at least he wouldn’t cry for milk like an infant. A little coaxing was all it took to dry his tears.

Lost in thought, Zhou Xiao grew intolerable of the silence. He scrambled up, peppering kisses across his cheek. “Ruan Yuqing, who are you thinking about!”

Yuqing caught his descending face in both palms, cupping his cheeks as if soothing a toddler, leaning in to offer a voluntary peck. “I’m thinking of you.”

Zhou Xiao froze.

He clearly hadn’t anticipated such an answer.

Their faces were so close they could feel the heat of each other’s breath.

“I was thinking: why does Zezhi spend all day picking fights with his wife over mere strangers, never once looking happy? I was wondering…”

As Yuqing drew out his cadence, Zhou Xiao’s heart leaped into his throat. He even began to wonder if he had pressed too hard. He should have quietly disposed of Jiang Sui in the shadows; why interrogate Yuqing about it? The man was pregnant, a time when he ought not to bear needless worries…

While Zhou Xiao grew taut with anxiety, a gentle glow flickered in the depths of Yuqing’s eyes. Nuzzling his nose against Zhou Xiao’s, he continued, “How can I make Zezhi a little happier? You are about to leave for a distant place. I cannot let you depart feeling wronged, lest you stop missing home once you are gone—just like when you studied abroad and stayed away for eight long years.”

Zhou Xiao’s heart hammered against his ribs.

He immediately buried his face into Yuqing’s shoulder, seeking security in his embrace with that broad, hulking frame. “You’re tricking me again. Yuqing, you always use sweet words to make a fool of me.”

Though he called it deceit, he swallowed it eagerly.

For no other reason than that no one had ever spoken to him like this before.

Who would ever fret over Zhou Xiao’s state of mind before he departed home? Who would worry about whether he felt homesick out in the world?

A mother, of course. Only a mother worried over the flesh and blood she carried inside her.

Zhou Xiao had known two mothers: his birth mother gave him life without raising him, while his adoptive mother raised him on a diet of bitter spite. Neither had ever given him the true sensation of having a mother, leaving Zhou Xiao without a single day of true childhood.

He had been forced to grow up.

Now, six months into their marriage, he had finally found his haven. He could strip off his armor without reservation in Yuqing’s arms, playing the role of a child begging for affection and warmth. For a fleeting second, he even felt that Yuqing was born to be his mother.

Yuqing was carrying his bloodline; right now, the same blood flowed between them.

How was that not the closest bond of flesh and blood?

“Qingqing…” Zhou Xiao crumbled under his tenderness.

Yuqing thought to himself: As expected, Zhou Xiao yields only to softness, never to force.

The more he acted like this, the more endearing he became. By day, Zhou Xiao yelled and strutted about in civilized airs; once under the covers, all it took was an embrace, and he would whimper with grievance just begging for a kiss.

“No one has ever worried whether I felt wronged at home,” Zhou Xiao murmured. “I don’t know your history with Jiang Sui. You refuse to tell me, and it leaves me wondering if I can’t measure up to him.”

“You have so many people around you. Who knows who will warm your bed once I’m gone?”

“I didn’t pick on Zhao Fu on purpose. He definitely told you. I…”

Zhou Xiao knew that his demand for Zhao Fu to castrate himself would have reached Yuqing’s ears. He hadn’t feared it before, but with Yuqing treating him so tenderly, Zhou Xiao was terrified of losing him. He dreaded the thought of Yuqing branding him an unredeemable villain.

“You were merely afraid Yuqing wouldn’t be good to you anymore, wasn’t that it?” Yuqing pinched his earlobe gently.

“Mhm…” He nodded. “I was wrong. I won’t touch the people around you again, and I won’t disobey you. Will you still worry about me in the future? Will you keep me in your heart?”

“You are my husband. Of course you have a place in my heart.”

Yuqing guided the man’s hand down to his abdomen. “This is our child.”

His soft, slender fingers rested atop the back of Zhou Xiao’s hand, lightly stroking across the swell. The curve of his lips felt like an invisible thread tugging at Zhou Xiao’s heartstrings.

Foreheads touching, he asked, “Isn’t that right, Zezhi?”

Surrounded by the fragrance slipping from Yuqing’s parted lips, Zhou Xiao breathed deeply, nodding along obediently to whatever he said.

Kisses were far from enough; he couldn’t hold himself back at all.

Lying face to face, he couldn’t put his weight on Yuqing’s abdomen. The best he could manage was burrowing between his thighs.

He slipped beneath the hem of Yuqing’s gown, covered by the quilt above.

Zhou Xiao was a large man. Overwhelmed by Yuqing’s gentleness, he buried his face between his thighs, his nose pressing into the soft flesh of Yuqing’s inner leg with enough force to deform the skin.

Yuqing couldn’t see a thing, but he felt the rhythmic movement under the blanket.

Not daring to touch Yuqing carelessly, Zhou Xiao had resorted to taking care of himself while inhaling his scent. By all accounts, how could a refined young master like Zhou Xiao engage in such an uncouth act?

There was only one explanation: he had reached his absolute limit, casting all dignity aside.

The agonizing torment of restraint. Compared to saving face, Zhou Xiao felt he was on the brink of madness from holding back.

Yuqing’s exquisite looks alone weren’t enough to drive Zhou Xiao’s soul mad; rather, the more he stepped into the role of a wife and a mother about to bring forth new life, the more desperately Zhou Xiao yearned to possess him, body and soul.

To make Yuqing his, and his alone.

Yuqing felt a bite on his thigh.

Through the quilt, Yuqing gave the man’s head a light shove, chiding him for being unruly.

Scalding breath puffed against the skin of his thigh, until Yuqing felt a dampness gathering there.

He peeled back a corner of the quilt. Zhou Xiao’s eyes were rimmed in red, unshed tears still clinging to his lashes.

Tugging a lock of his hair, Yuqing asked, “What is it?”

Zhou Xiao eagerly offered his cheek for Yuqing to pinch, reluctant to let Yuqing’s hand touch any part of him that felt numb.

Yuqing crooked his finger. “Having you serve me all this time, have you felt wronged as well?”

“Would you like me to attend to Zezhi for once? Take it as a reward for being obedient, all right?”

Zhou Xiao was already swooning from his wife’s scent. Those few words carried an intoxicating allure.

He snuggled back into the crook of Yuqing’s arm, tears brimming on the verge of falling.

Yuqing couldn’t help a helpless smile, unable to quite decipher him. “What on earth is the matter?”

Zhou Xiao: “You smell so good…”

He nudged Yuqing’s neck with his nose. “Qingqing, my wife, you smell so wonderful…”

Catching the scent of his wife and feeling the warmth of a maternal embrace, how could he not want to weep?

Resting against Yuqing’s thigh was a thick, scalding length, pulsing steadily—a rhythm far removed from a heartbeat.

Yuqing slipped a hand under the quilt, gently stroking it.

Zhou Xiao sucked in a sharp breath, the veins along his neck bulging with effort. Just as he lunged forward, Yuqing unfastened the button at his collar. “It feels a little uncomfortable…”

“Does Zezhi wish to attend to his own business first, or tend to his wife’s?”

Zhou Xiao couldn’t wait a moment longer. More desperate than an infant, he latched on, cheeks hollowing as he drank deeply, asking in a muffled voice, “What will you do while I’m away?”

“Qingqing, come with me.”

“Please?”

Traveling from here to Shencheng required a bumpy, hours-long car ride. With the past few days’ ledgers from Qingming Bank waiting to be audited, Yuqing simply couldn’t travel far.

Still, Zhou Xiao couldn’t resist begging. He felt he couldn’t bear to be parted from his wife for a single moment.

“Be good,” Yuqing coaxed. “You’ll be back soon.”

Zhou Xiao paused, feeling even more aggrieved. Dropping his gaze, he drank with ravenous urgency, clutching Yuqing’s hand to press against his own head.

He mumbled, “Qingqing…”

He had never known an embrace from a mother, having grown up on rice paste since infancy. Later, after moving to the West, he had tried cow’s milk and goat’s milk; the taste was exceedingly plain, and Zhou Xiao had grown to loathe milk of any kind, finding it thoroughly unpalatable. Westerners drank it constantly—cheese, butter, rich dairy that gave him a pounding headache.

Yet Yuqing’s was entirely different. It emerged in delicate, fine sprays, sweet and clean to the tongue. Even after pulling away, the fragrance lingered between his teeth, leaving an endless, rich aftertaste.

Yuqing was thoroughly worn out by his antics.

Whatever else could be said of Zhou Xiao, he attended to him with genuine devotion. Knowing Yuqing had worked up a sweat and fearing he might catch cold, Zhou Xiao ignored his own throbbing ache, scrambling up to call for servants to bring hot water so he could wipe Yuqing down.

He added, “Once I leave, can you handle these chores yourself? If you can’t, I’ll find a…”

Whether it was a man, woman, adult, or child, the thought of anyone else made Zhou Xiao seethe with jealousy. He cut himself off mid-sentence.

Reading him like an open book, Yuqing chuckled, “Once you leave, who else would pester me like this?”

“Your belly is large now; you must take extra care while bathing. If you feel unwell, use the telephone line. I’ll have someone install the wires tomorrow.”

Wired telephones were exceptionally costly, and the ongoing clashes between north and south made it even more difficult. Laying telephone lines required military clearance; how many households in all of Baizhou possessed a private line? Placing a call required dialing into the provincial exchange for a manual transfer.

Yuqing didn’t know how to operate such modern contraptions, and it sounded exceedingly cumbersome.

Zhou Xiao was stubborn, brushing off the complications. “Don’t worry about that. If you find it troublesome, just pick it up whenever it rings.”

“Once you answer, you’ll hear my voice,” he said.

Watching him kneel before him, meticulously wiping his abdomen, Yuqing lowered his gaze and went along with it. “Very well.”

Zhou Xiao moved to take away the soiled undergarments.

Yuqing asked where he was taking them.

Zhou Xiao paused, offering a clumsy lie. “Taking them out for the servants to wash.”

Just as Zhou Xiao prepared to walk around the folding screen, Yuqing couldn’t help laughing at the sight of his strained, desperate endurance.

He crooked his finger, beckoning him back.

Leaning against the headboard, Yuqing told him to step closer.

Looking at Zhou Xiao, Yuqing thought to himself that this was, after all, a healthy young man.

Reaching out to weigh the heft in his palm, he raised an eyebrow. “No wonder you’re always boasting about yourself.”

“You were the one who praised it first,” Zhou Xiao retorted.

Yuqing used his hand to gauge the measure.

Zhou Xiao usually wore trousers tailored from stiff fabrics, unlike the soft draping of long gowns, keeping everything thoroughly concealed. The moment they were undone, it sprang free, giving Yuqing quite a start.

Truth be told, he had every right to boast.

Yuqing had a frail constitution and was never particularly eager about these matters, though his own stature was entirely normal.

Zhou Xiao’s girth was nearly as thick as his wrist.

“Have you looked your fill?” Zhou Xiao showed no trace of modesty. “Now that you have a child, you don’t want me anymore. You won’t even touch me. What’s left to see?”

“Are you just enjoying the sight of how terribly you’ve tormented me?” Zhou Xiao grumbled, though his hand remained tangled in the hem of Yuqing’s robe, begging beneath the surface.

Yuqing crooked his finger, tapping near the man’s eye. “Mm…”

Zhou Xiao inhaled sharply, catching his wrist. “Don’t go.”

Outside, Deng Yongquan had been waiting for ages.

When he returned to the compound, he had spotted his father leading a dozen servants waiting outside the main courtyard, each carrying trays laden with the pastries he had helped the young master buy on the street.

As domestic servants, their very first lesson from childhood was reading the room. If the masters were occupied in the main quarters, they had to retreat dutifully and wait until summoned.

Deng Yongquan took over the task from his father, waiting outside the courtyard with the staff.

Late into the night, the door finally swung open, and Zhou Xiao stepped out.

“Young Master,” Deng Yongquan stepped forward with the pastries. “Has the Madam retired for the night?”

Zhou Xiao frowned slightly. “What Young Master? Who are you calling Young Master?”

Deng Yongquan hastily corrected himself, “Master, it’s Master! This servant misspoke.”

Zhou Xiao was in high spirits. “Why talk of servants at home? You studied abroad with me; you’re a confidant. Don’t degrade yourself. Go fetch me two buckets of water.”

“…Yes.”

Zhou Xiao paced the courtyard, having someone lead the large German hound over. He looked it up and down, asking its age. At seven or eight years old, it was already an old dog.

In canine years, wasn’t that close to fifty or sixty?

Quite old indeed—far from young. That was good. Zhou Xiao spared it only a brief glance, instructing the staff to walk it regularly from now on so it wouldn’t tire the Madam.

“Are you planning to…”

“From now on, whenever the Madam changes his clothes, have them sent to Shencheng.”

Deng Yongquan: “Huh?”

“There’s no need for Zhao Fu to wait on him personally. The Madam said to reassign him to miscellaneous chores. Pass down the word: everything of the Madam’s that needs washing must be delivered once a day.”

Deng Yongquan: “…”

Right after, he watched as Zhou Xiao rolled up his sleeves and began scrubbing an undergarment by hand.

When had an eldest young master like Zhou Xiao ever done such menial labor? Even the aftermath of a murder was handled by Deng Yongquan. Anyone who knew Zhou Xiao knew he despised filthy, grueling chores above all else.

“Zezhi—” Yuqing called from within.

Zhou Xiao handed the freshly rinsed garments to Deng Yongquan, ordering him to hang them out to dry tomorrow and make sure to hire a dedicated driver to run back and forth between Baizhou and Shencheng starting tomorrow.

Deng Yongquan could hardly believe his ears. Hiring a dedicated chauffeur simply to deliver the Madam’s laundry…

Zhou Xiao simply could not stomach anyone else meddling in Yuqing’s intimate affairs.

If he wasn’t wealthy enough, powerful enough, or willing to bear hardship, why would Yuqing ever have a use for him? As long as he accumulated wealth and status in the future, waited on Yuqing hand and foot, and made it so Yuqing’s daily life couldn’t function without him, victory would be his.

By then, even if Yuqing wished to leave him for someone else, no one could serve him half as well. An entangled, consuming love—an indispensable partner. Just running through the scenario made Zhou Xiao marvel at his own sheer genius.

No matter how sharp Yuqing was, he would never realize he had walked straight into a trap.

Yuqing’s entire life was already sealed in his grasp.

Haha.

“Are you thirsty?” Zhou Xiao hurried to pour a cup of water.

Yuqing pointed at his mouth. “The taste lingers.”

“Let me taste.” Delighted, Zhou Xiao leaned in to suck on Yuqing’s lips.

He couldn’t taste any of his own musk at all—only the sweet nectar of his wife’s mouth.

Still, Yuqing’s mouth was rather small; he had truly worked hard just now.

“In the future, you may only finish if I permit it,” Yuqing’s voice sounded somewhat hoarse. “It choked me terribly.”

“Yes, I was wrong.” Zhou Xiao caught Yuqing’s hand, pressing it against his own lips. “I won’t dare do it again next time.”

“Good Qingqing, forgive me this once. I have to leave tomorrow; don’t stay angry with me tonight.”

Yuqing gave a helpless smile, pinching his cheek. “Stop running your mouth and get some rest.”

Yuqing was already prompting him to turn in early.

They truly were an affectionate, devoted couple.

Zhou Xiao’s heart swelled with pure sweetness.