TAMW CH38

Yuqing was held securely in his arms, the emotions swirling in his eyes undeniably intricate.

He hesitated for a fleeting second before finally parting his lips. “I did.”

A broad, helpless smile broke across Zhou Xiao’s face. He spun Yuqing around on the spot right there in his embrace. “Qingqing missed me. You deliberately lured me back.”

“You’re pushing your luck more and more!” Yuqing pinched his earlobe. “Put me down this instant.”

“I won’t.”

Holding him close, Zhou Xiao sat directly into the chaise longue. In that moment of tilting backward and forward, Yuqing felt a brief sensation of weightlessness. But because his arms were wound tightly around Zhou Xiao’s neck, he felt no fear; the scene simply felt entirely dreamlike.

He had experienced moments like this before.

When he first started doing business, being looked down upon and stood up was an everyday occurrence. Every time it happened, he would sit here in silence, watching an entire opera to calm his bruised spirits and plan what he would say next time. His heart would be quiet—and similarly, entirely hollow.

In a moment of hollow stillness like that, Zhou Xiao’s sudden appearance had, Yuqing had to admit, caught him completely by surprise. His heart had even skipped a beat.

Zhou Xiao beamed at him, hugging him tightly. His nose began an almost routine inspection, nuzzling into the crook of Yuqing’s neck. His broad palm settled comfortably over Yuqing’s rounded belly, stroking it gently before sliding down to his lower back to begin a soothing massage.

In that single instant, Yuqing felt as though he were truly being taken care of by Zhou Xiao. He could relax and lie in Zhou Xiao’s arms without having to think about anything, idly pinching the man’s earlobe…

A lock of Yuqing’s long hair had already been licked damp by him. With the slightest upward glance, one could see the raw desire flickering in the young man’s eyes.

“We haven’t seen each other for only a few days, how did you exhaust yourself like this?” Zhou Xiao scolded softly. “What did you promise me?”

When did I ever promise him anything? Yuqing thought. Could Zhou Xiao actually remember every single passing word he uttered?

To think he was truly worth such earnest devotion from this man.

Instead, Yuqing was at a loss for how to repay this overgrown hound who hadn’t outgrown his oral fixation. He could only let the man suck on his earlobe, stirring an itch deep within his chest, enduring the tingling sensation as he let him have his way.

Downstairs on the stage, the final aria of Farewell My Concubine was playing.

Xiang Yu asked, “Consort Yu, do you have any regrets?”

Consort Yu replied, “This concubine follows the King; in life or death, I harbor no regrets—”

The melodic, haunting voice rose up from the open gallery on the first floor, slipping straight into Yuqing’s ears.

A single moment—in a person’s life, could it truly take just a single moment to decide to follow someone in life and death…?

Seeing Yuqing stare blankly, Zhou Xiao wondered if he had frightened him. Could it be that he had been secretly meeting a lover here after all? Glancing left and right, he saw no traces of anyone else having visited, and Zhou Xiao was instantly reassured. He buried his head even more eagerly into Yuqing’s chest.

Yuqing’s heavy cloak was only draped loosely over his shoulders. With a single push of Zhou Xiao’s nose, the fox fur slid down past his shoulders. The locks of long hair that hadn’t been pinned up brushed ticklishly against his face.

“The moment I received your message, I called back, but the servants said you had gone out. I panicked terribly.”

As he spoke, his restless hand took Yuqing’s and pressed it firmly against his own body.

It was pounding, but that spot certainly wasn’t a heart, was it?

Yuqing asked, “Do you ever have a serious moment? Does your heart grow on your leg?”

“Wherever there’s a blood vessel, you can feel a pulse. If you grip it carefully and feel it, you’ll know,” Zhou Xiao said with utmost gravity. “When a doctor takes a pulse, isn’t it taken from the wrist too?”

“Good or bad, you always have a ready answer.”

Yuqing smiled. Across his pale cheeks spread an expression breathtaking enough to ensnare a man’s soul—a touch seductive, with the small mole beneath his eye gleaming faintly in step with his smile. He was clearly a man, yet Zhou Xiao still could only find the word tender to describe his wife.

After a long while, seeing Zhou Xiao staring at him without blinking, Yuqing let his fingertips drop like a thread of silk to lightly tap the tip of the man’s nose.

“What are you looking at?”

“Looking at you.” Zhou Xiao hadn’t heard what he said; he simply wanted to gaze at him. Not having seen him for days, the longing had been entirely too fierce.

Smiling, Yuqing pressed his thumb against his lips, applying a bit of pressure. “All this mouth does is spout nonsense. What on earth did you learn abroad?”

Zhou Xiao was entirely defenseless against any touch from Yuqing. Having been steeped in the scent of jasmine for eight years, every inch of Yuqing’s skin was as smooth as flower petals—silky to the touch and seemingly fragrant to the taste.

Now, there was another fatal scent radiating from Yuqing’s body: a faint, delicate milky aroma.

It was faint, so very faint. Yet the moment he burrowed his head into the cloak, he didn’t even need to undo the buttons to catch that subtle fragrance with his teeth…

It was rather like a freshly heated butter pancake; a spot that seemed firm on the surface would melt into water the second it met the slightest warmth.

“Zezhi… don’t fool around.” Yuqing drew a sharp breath, a muffled gasp slipping from his nose.

“How am I fooling around?” Zhou Xiao had come specifically to pick a fight anyway; did he fear losing an argument to him?

“You…” Yuqing parted his lips to speak.

So many of the things Zhou Xiao did were simply impossible to put into words!

In the past, even in the Ruan household, he had rarely witnessed such scandalous behavior. His next exposure had only come when he grew up, preparing to marry Zhou Xiao and conceive smoothly, which led him to study erotic manuals intently. But marital intimacies in those depictions were mostly conventional. Especially in deep courtyards, according to the old adage: marry a wife for virtue, take a concubine for lust.

He had intended to act as the dignified principal wife—once pregnant and having pacified the eldest young master, he could simply arrange for several pretty concubines to be brought in. Who could have foreseen that Zhou Xiao would latch onto him and refuse to let go?

To the point where… even through the long gown, he could unerringly bite down on that exact spot…

Thank goodness he had worn a black gown today, or else who knew how conspicuously damp his chest would look right now.

Zhou Xiao bit down brazenly through the layer of fabric. With the garment acting as a barrier, he could even apply more force. Before long, the fabric was soaked through, leaving Yuqing unable to tell whether it was Zhou Xiao’s saliva or his own moisture.

How could he possibly speak of such things aloud?

Yuqing tried to push him away, but his body turned unbearably soft. “Don’t bite… don’t…”

His face was flushed crimson. Zhou Xiao, his cheeks hollowed, sucked down with even greater fervor. “The clothing is a bit thick. Is it newly bought? The fabric is different from before.”

Winter fabrics were naturally thicker; he had to exert tremendous effort to draw out any sweetness. A pure, delicate milky aroma against a black gown—undoing just a single button would reveal the pale chest beneath. Zhou Xiao couldn’t take it anymore. He shifted his posture, pulling Yuqing flush against his chest, burying his face entirely into Yuqing’s flat breast.

Blushing furiously, Yuqing had no way to fend off his antics.

Yet Zhou Xiao was young, and there were no other concubines at home to indulge him. A wife truly bore the duty of attending to her husband’s desires; this was the proper conduct of a mistress of the house.

At that thought, Yuqing let him have his way. Gently cradling the man’s head, he softly coaxed him to be gentle…

After all, days had passed. For the past few days, he had been padding his clothes with folded cloth. Zhou Xiao buried himself with desperate urgency, paying no heed to his high nose bridge. After a while, when Yuqing truly couldn’t take any more and ordered him to lift his head, Zhou Xiao slowly looked up.

He tilted his face with a hazy, drunken look, as if breathless, his gaze glazed with desire. “Qingqing smells so sweet.”

Hearing him say that, Yuqing was even less certain whether he meant his body smelled sweet, or whether the man’s own mouth had tasted something sweet.

“Why are you acting like a child?” Yuqing’s voice carried a distinct note of indulgence.

“If you say so, then so be it.” Zhou Xiao let him tease him. He loved it when Yuqing teased him.

Of course, it was best if it wasn’t just teasing—teasing, using, manipulating; as long as Yuqing wanted him and saw value in him, that was all that mattered.

Yuqing hummed softly through his nose. The slightly swollen, tender flesh of his chest had been flattened by Zhou Xiao’s nose, and as for what lay inside, it was naturally all in this man’s mouth. The slight, throbbing ache of the past few days vanished completely. Yuqing’s pupils lost focus slightly as he drew a slow breath. “All right now.”

“No more fooling around, all right?” Yuqing coaxed.

Zhou Xiao still wanted to linger against his chest. The upper half of Yuqing’s gown was damp, clinging tightly to the skin beneath. Reaching inside, Zhou Xiao pulled out the soaked cloth pad, the thin fabric heavy like a sponge saturated with water.

“I won’t tease you anymore.” He tucked the damp cloth straight into his pocket. “I was afraid you’d work yourself into a temper while pregnant. With you away from home, I couldn’t stop worrying, so I rushed back to see you.”

The reason was impeccably sound. Aside from feeling a warm swell in his heart, Yuqing couldn’t muster any other reaction.

By Zhou Xiao’s side, his feelings were always remarkably uncomplicated: pure joy, comfort, and even touching warmth, untouched by hidden agendas. He looked at Zhou Xiao with a faint sense of novelty, as if trying to decipher where this feeling truly came from.

Gazing into Yuqing’s eyes filled with gentle warmth, Zhou Xiao’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, like an impatient leopard. His palm braced against Yuqing’s back, refusing to let him pull away, his lips moving in for a burning, greedy lick.

This time, Yuqing didn’t dodge either. Instead, he rested both hands against the man’s firm, powerful chest, remaining still and letting him kiss to his heart’s content.

Zhou Xiao truly seemed intent on devouring him, lunging forward with desperate bites and nips of his teeth. Downstairs, the stage began a new act, the drums beating in rhythmic cadence accompanied by waves of applause. Up in the box, they embraced in a deep, breathless kiss.

The window overlooking the stage was covered only by a single bamboo blind, which fluttered gently in the draft. If anyone downstairs looked up with intent, they would clearly see the two figures tangled in a deep embrace through the narrow slats.

Yuqing could scarcely believe he had engaged in such scandalous behavior. He had always been conservative and proper; marital intimacy was meant to take place within the bedchamber. Yet Zhou Xiao was utterly audacious. His love couldn’t wait; what he fancied, he demanded to possess at that very instant.

Perhaps this was the trademark impetuousness of youth? The young had seen less of the world; those who were older naturally had to indulge them a little.

“Boss, Cai’er is here to thank you for the tip.” The owner of Xianxiang Restaurant knocked on the door from outside.

Downstairs, the performance of The Butterfly Lovers had reached the lines sung by Zhu Yingtai’s parents, so the actor had hurried upstairs to offer thanks for the gratuity.

There had always been such customs, but Yuqing had only ever come here to negotiate business. Usually, when actors offered thanks, he remained behind the screen; whoever dined with him at Xianxiang Restaurant took the credit and the honor of being thanked.

Yuqing slipped free of Zhou Xiao’s embrace. Zhou Xiao was in an inconvenient state below the waist, unwilling to let Yuqing leave his lap, yet temporarily unable to stand up.

“Come in,” Yuqing called, pulling his cloak back over his shoulders. Wrapped loosely in the pale fox fur, he looked rather like a male fox spirit.

Cai’er was the star performer here, his stage makeup still intact. He had a magnificent voice and a tall, lithe figure, portraying female roles with breathtaking allure. Yet even so, stepping through the door and catching sight of Yuqing’s downcast face, his heart gave a violent jolt. Skin that needed no powder to look exquisite, long hair spilling loosely about his shoulders—he looked like a celestial being descended to the mortal realm.

Downstairs, the applause from the stage slowly died down.

Yuqing tilted his head slightly, slipping a hand from his cloak. The purse of silver dollars he offered was heavy. “You sang splendidly.”

“The boss flatters me. If you are interested, perhaps I could dress up and perform privately for you someday.”

Those with an interest in opera could hum a few tunes themselves. Yuqing nodded, taking it as an agreement. Although Baizhou now had movie theaters screening foreign silent films—some even featuring live voice acting—Yuqing still favored the old ways. He was conservative by nature, slow to accept modern novelties.

Seeing that he truly understood the art from just a few words, Cai’er was delighted and wanted to chat a bit longer. But before he could speak, he felt an intense gaze boring into him. Sweeping his eyes across the room, he saw the half-profile of a man standing behind the folding screen, staring daggers at him with an icy, expressionless face.

Normally, if someone was caught staring, they would avert their eyes. Yet this man did nothing of the sort. Just as Cai’er was wondering why the man was glaring at him, the gaze turned even fiercer. When the man lowered his head, the sharp shadows obscured his features entirely, masking any readable emotion. But an overwhelming, heavy resentment radiated from behind him.

The Boss Ruan before him seemed completely oblivious, merely waiting quietly for him to sing a few introductory lines. Cai’er felt a chill run down his spine. They said an opera singer’s eyes could speak, so why did this man’s stare give him goosebumps all over…?

Cai’er didn’t dare linger. Giving thanks for the reward, he quickly followed the owner out to prepare for the next act.

Once the visitor was gone, Yuqing took a sip of the sweet tea. “Still watching? Come out.”

“I should have stepped out earlier,” Zhou Xiao grumbled, sitting beside him in dissatisfaction. “Do you know him? You used to come here all the time—why do you always tip him? This definitely isn’t the first time, is it?”

“It’s not the first time you’ve tipped him, and he still looked at you with that kind of gaze. What was that supposed to mean…?”

Yuqing let out a helpless, sighing chuckle. “Why do I hear teeth grinding in your voice?”

“I’m not grinding my teeth! It’s just that actors here thank heaven knows how many bosses every day. He reeked of heavy rouge and powder; what if the stench bothered you? What if the last person who tipped him smoked opium and passed the smell on to you—”

“Hush, you.” Yuqing gave his mouth a light smack. “Stop talking nonsense.”

Why did Zhou Xiao have to slander every single passerby?

Zhou Xiao pouted, then stood up, stepped outside, and returned with something hidden mysteriously behind his back.

Setting down the bowl of sweet tea, Yuqing tilted his head with curiosity. “What is that?”

“Did you miss me or not?” Zhou Xiao asked again.

He would ask the same question a thousand times over. Humoring him, Yuqing nodded. “You’ve grown clever. Now you know how to push your boundaries with me.”

Beaming with triumph, Zhou Xiao kept one hand hidden behind his back while sweeping his other arm through the air in an elegant arc, bending low and extending a hand toward Yuqing.

A proper gentleman’s bow.

Yuqing raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile. Following along, he extended his hand, letting it rest gently in the man’s palm. He wanted to see what Zhou Xiao was up to.

Zhou Xiao leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the back of his hand. Then, with a sudden flourish, he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

“You don’t care for jasmine. From now on, I will bring flowers every time I see you, until you find the ones you love.”

Yuqing froze for a few seconds. He raised a hand to cover half his face, a shimmering mist gathering in his eyes. “They tease each other in jest…”

Zhou Xiao finished the verse: “And present one another with peonies.”

It was a line from the Classic of Poetry. The verses Zhou Xiao could recite, Yuqing knew by heart as well; they had read the very same books.

A bouquet of soft pink and white Chinese herbaceous peonies, their buds just beginning to unfurl.

Zhou Xiao nestled the flowers into his lap. “Fresh blossoms for a beauty, free for your plucking.”

In the West, taking someone on a date meant bringing a bouquet of red roses. But Zhou Xiao felt roses were too fiery. Yuqing favored gentle colors; even the fabrics of his everyday robes were mostly pale green.

Holding the bouquet, Yuqing’s expression softened into an immensely tender gaze. “Thank you.”

Zhou Xiao acted just like a pup begging for praise: “Are you moved?”

“Give you an inch of kindness and you run a whole dye shop, do you?” Yuqing countered gently.

Zhou Xiao: “Then you are moved.”

Yuqing nodded. “Mhm.”

Truly, no one had ever given him fresh flowers before.

“I wanted to give them to you the moment I walked in, but hearing your voice, I wanted to kiss you first.”

Yuqing felt completely lightheaded from his words, his chest warming with immense comfort. He reached out and affectionately stroked the man’s cheek. Sometimes, Zhou Xiao was truly so very sweet. He seemed to oscillate seamlessly between an authoritative, dignified master of the house and a well-behaved child—two identities that couldn’t be further apart.

Neither lingered in the private box any longer, heading straight back to the Zhou estate.

Zhou Xiao helped him down from the car with nimble care. Butler Deng stepped out to look: the Madam had left entirely alone, yet returned cradling a large bouquet of peonies, carefully supported down from the carriage by the Master himself.

It was the very picture of marital harmony.

“Master, Yongquan didn’t return with you?” Butler Deng noticed his son wasn’t there and asked casually.

“Ah, he’s handling some business for me in Shencheng. I only came back for a quick look.”

The boy wasn’t in Shencheng, of course; he was in Tan City. If Jiang Sui wanted to survive, he had to fight his way back. Nowadays, warlords seized territories wherever they could; losing a stronghold meant having one less base of power. This time, Jiang Sui had clearly been ambushed from front and back, likely an operation aimed at Baizhou itself.

Zhou Xiao had decided to see the good deed through to the end. It so happened that among the northern troops was a former classmate from his student days in France, now a company commander with soldiers at his disposal, whom he could lend to Jiang Sui.

What did it matter if Jiang Sui was a general? In the end, didn’t he still have to owe Zhou Xiao a favor?

When all was said and done, he was the one who could help Yuqing solidify his footing!

Seeing the corners of Zhou Xiao’s mouth curling upward as he chuckled to himself, Yuqing wondered what delightful thought had crossed the man’s mind.

“What is it? Did everything go smoothly in Shencheng? What has made you so happy?”

“Nothing,” Zhou Xiao said.

He couldn’t very well admit that the Jiang Sui he had worried about was actually entirely incompetent, could he? An absolute hopeless case, hahahaha!

“Everything with the railway is proceeding smoothly. The blasting has begun, and the laborers are dedicated. Come year-end, I will hand out extra grain and offer mined coal as bonuses so they can enjoy a comfortable winter back home.”

Yuqing said, “You care for the people and have a kind heart.”

Zhou Xiao smiled down at him. “Walk slowly.”

The two ate dinner together. The servants attending them were Xiao Yue and Xiao Cui—quiet, dutiful servants who kept to themselves, which pleased Zhou Xiao greatly.

He asked Yuqing if he had eaten the delicacies he had sent back. Yuqing had indeed sampled them; his appetite was never large, but as long as a dish didn’t trigger nausea, he would try it. Over the past few days, the small kitchen hadn’t needed to make any pastries at all.

“Even though you weren’t home, it felt as though you were here every day. The Madam ate with great relish,” Butler Deng noted.

Zhou Xiao said, “Uncle Deng, you flatter me too much. I doubt the Madam even knew those pastries were sent by me, did he?”

As he spoke, he pointedly watched Yuqing’s face, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to press against Yuqing’s cheek and remind him that he was the one dispatching couriers with pastries every single day.

Yuqing smiled. “I knew. You wrote it in your letters.”

“Then did Madam read the letters carefully?”

Yuqing placed a side dish into his bowl with his chopsticks, understanding full well the hidden meaning behind his words. “Eat in silence, sleep without speaking. Even food cannot keep your mouth shut.”

What else could Zhou Xiao be referring to? Nothing other than his mention of wanting milk in the letter. Catching the faint blush spreading across Yuqing’s ears, Zhou Xiao knew Yuqing understood, and he ducked his head with a grin to eat obediently.

After dinner, Zhou Xiao went to inspect the telephone again. He taught Yuqing how to operate it and gave him several numbers where he could be reached in Shencheng. Afterward, Yuqing brought out brush and ink, genuinely asking what the English phrase miss you meant.

Zhou Xiao asked, “Do you want to learn foreign languages?”

“I’ve never studied them. I’m past the best age for learning, so I’ll likely be slow. Later on, I could teach Qingming instead.”

Zhou Xiao said, “There is no end to learning; it is never too late if you wish to learn. Come, I’ll teach you.”

Setting down the brush, Zhou Xiao switched to a fountain pen. “English isn’t difficult; you’ll master it.”

The two practiced writing quietly in the study. Seeing them, the servants whispered softly among themselves: “The Master and Madam truly get along so well.”

“Indeed, treating each other with such mutual respect.”

“The Master respects the Madam so deeply!”

“Though they speak little after their marriage, they are so polite to one another. It’s wonderful. This was just the kind of scene the Old Master wanted to see, though perhaps they are a bit too polite?”

“Ah, the Master studied abroad and has open-minded ideas. Even if he couldn’t initially accept a male wife, he would still treat him with utmost respect and courtesy. That is proper etiquette. Living peacefully together like this in the future is all that matters.”

In the eyes of the servants, since Zhou Xiao rarely came home, he naturally wasn’t in love with the Madam. Arranged marriages through matchmakers had always been formal and polite. In fact, only such courtesy could endure over time.

Not only in front of the servants, but whenever he was before outsiders, Zhou Xiao dressed impeccably—his suits without a single wrinkle, his tie fastened in a Windsor knot, his hair parted crisply, wearing a cool, unapproachable demeanor. To the servants, the couple was merely maintaining the marriage for the sake of the child. The Madam managed the household, while the Master built a brilliant career outside; that distant courtesy was viewed as a textbook tale of mutual respect.

Mutual respect?

“Mmh—”

The second they entered the bedchamber, Zhou Xiao shut the door behind them and wrapped an arm around Yuqing’s waist, pulling him flush against himself. Yuqing’s head tilted back under the force of the kiss as he endured it. “Zezhi…”

“Madam.” Zhou Xiao’s hand unfastened the buttons of his robe with practiced boldness, his calloused palm slipping inside to gently knead the slightly swollen flesh of his chest. “Qingqing…”

“Wait a moment.” Kissed backward step by step, Yuqing was suddenly swept up with one arm supporting his thigh, nearly crying out in alarm.

“Wait for what?” Unable to endure any longer, Zhou Xiao set him upon the table, licking him with ravenous hunger.

Where was the dignified master from outside? When teaching him foreign words just now, their pinkies had barely grazed each other, yet the moment they entered the room, he was stripping off his clothes with frantic haste.

Yuqing let out a soft hum, wanting him not to be so hurried. Having been apart for several days, he had, in truth, missed him as well.

“Be gentle, there’s still the child,” Yuqing sighed softly, the words catching in his throat.

Hearing his voice, Zhou Xiao could scarcely keep his footing. He bit into Yuqing’s neck again. “I know, I know… With the child, I will be careful. I missed you, Qingqing… I missed you.” He whimpered through his nose, sounding entirely like a child throwing a spoiled tantrum.

Yuqing felt a jolt in his chest and looked down at him. A man with such broad shoulders, possessing such a youthful face, was whining in his embrace like this—as though another refusal would reduce him to tears.

“Let me kiss you, please? Let me serve you…”

“You traveled all this way just to serve me?”

Yuqing found him amusing. The man was clearly frantic with need; the tented bulge in his trousers pressed right against his belly, the sensation unmistakable.

Paying no heed to what Yuqing said, Zhou Xiao sank to his knees, ducking beneath the hem of the gown. He pressed his nose flat against his thighs with immense force, inhaling deeply several times, his chest heaving. “Qingqing smells so good, so sweet…”

Yuqing couldn’t see his face, unable to tell whether the dampness on his inner thigh was saliva from the man’s mouth or tears shed from being overwhelmed by the scent.

“You won’t let me?” Zhou Xiao bit his thigh in protest.

Yuqing sucked in a sharp breath of pain and gave his head a gentle shove. “Don’t you want to put it in and serve me?”

Yuqing’s voice drifted languidly, sounding even sweeter than the opera at Xianxiang Restaurant.

Zhou Xiao tugged at his inner trousers: “I want to, I want to… I do… but once isn’t enough. Let me first…”