TAMW CH42

From behind the car window, Yuqing exchanged a few pleasantries with Adjutant Yuan. Seeing that the man had no intention of steering the topic toward concessions regarding the port, Yuqing didn’t press the matter either, simply saying they would gather again when an opportunity arose.

This “adjutant” had likely come to the docks today merely on an inspection tour.

Assessing the harbor’s scale and how many vessels could be mobilized—even with the fastest turnaround, linking everything up would take a couple of years. In the early stages, moving firearms and munitions from the sea into the port still required trucks to ferry them inland. Therefore, the military was probably not in an urgent rush to seize total operational control of the docks right away; getting a firm grasp on Baizhou’s underlying landscape was far more critical.

Unlike Jiang Sui, who had cultivated deep roots in Baizhou over many years, this new general operated from a much higher, more detached perch.

Word had it that with the warlord turnover in the region, numerous districts and private banks were being forced to cough up new “resettlement levies,” stoking rampant grievances.

Even though political power grew out of the barrel of a gun in this day and age, sheer numbers still carried weight. Once resentment among the masses swelled, things would only become harder to manage.

Seeing that the railway was on the verge of being introduced, Chamber of Commerce President Song Xiaochang was merely biding his time until he stepped down next year. He had already liquidated and transferred the bulk of his wealth to America, waiting only to distribute the Chamber’s year-end dividends, see a new president voted in, and make his clean exit.

Adopting a philosophy of offending no one, Song Xiaochang avoided crossing anyone. Over the past few days, he had even cleared land transit permits and enacted a policy exempting military convoys from transit tolls.

The Chamber President’s stance could no longer represent the collective will or dictate the prevailing winds; the merchants below were waiting to take their cues from the next leader.

Yet… who would that next president be?

To extract “resettlement levies” from Baizhou’s mercantile sector while maintaining a stable footing, the military needed to build a cooperative, mutually beneficial relationship with local commerce.

Yuqing calculated in his mind: Could this man be scheming to prop me up as the next Chamber President, establishing a symbiotic foothold in Baizhou together?

If he provided the maritime shipping channels at the harbor, which would then connect with the railway for inland distribution, munitions could be rushed to the front lines with unmatched speed. In return, the garrisoned troops would guarantee the safety of Baizhou’s citizenry and enforce an absolute ban on opium.

Ever since news of Jiang Sui’s defeat leaked, bandits had reportedly begun running rampant across the satellite counties surrounding Baizhou. If no one intervened soon, Baizhou would descend into chaos.

Yuqing quietly weighed what this “adjutant” truly wanted from him.

Thinking about it brought on a dull headache, and he gently pressed his temples.

He was already entering his seventh month of pregnancy. He worried that storms would brew over these next few months—with his labor drawing near, he feared that Zhou Xiao’s hot-headed temperament wouldn’t be able to handle these treacherous affairs alone.

Upon returning to the Zhou residence, Yuqing dispatched formal calling cards to several heavyweight private bankers within the Chamber of Commerce, setting a rendezvous at Xianxiang Restaurant the following week to deliberate.

Zhao Fu returned after making inquiries around town and managed to dig up some intelligence. The bandits around Baizhou were indeed running wild, and the newly arrived commander had yet to lift a finger to suppress them. Clearly, until a pact of mutual interest was struck, he had no intention of lifting a hand for Baizhou’s sake.

Yuqing ordered a few household guards to arm themselves and lead the soldiers Jiang Sui had left behind to run basic anti-bandit sweeps through the adjacent counties, providing relief and shelter for the ransacked villagers.

Today, a merchant vessel from France happened to sail into the harbor.

The driver had already started pulling the car away, but Yuqing had him turn back around. Since it was inconvenient for him to step down, the ship’s purser brought the cargo manifest over. In the end, Yuqing selected a Swiss wristwatch, alongside several suits and silk neckties—all in the cuts and styles he remembered Zhou Xiao favoring.

They weren’t bespoke, though, so he wondered if the lad would throw a fit.

He had seen Zhou Xiao gift Swiss watches before. Normally, Yuqing only carried a pocket watch on rare occasions—a treasured relic left behind by his father, seldom brought out into the light.

“By the way, do you have any French ham in this shipment?”

“Certainly! Is there anything Boss Ruan asks for that we don’t have? I’ll have men deliver it straight to your estate right away.”

“No need. If it’s convenient, just let the driver fetch it. A small portion will do.”

The purser smiled. “Is Boss Ruan preparing to open a Western restaurant?”

Yuqing smiled from behind the carriage window, turning the fine mechanical watch in his palm. “No. Someone in the household enjoys it, though his own cooking is quite dreadful…”

He recalled how Zhou Xiao had insisted on playing the Western chef last time, serving a meal that nearly made him sick. He had brandished his knife with such flair that Yuqing had actually assumed he was a master in the kitchen.

Thinking of him, Yuqing couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh.

Whether he was laughing at the memory or simply missing the man, he couldn’t say. But the mere thought of him lifted his spirits considerably, sweeping away the heavy gloom from moments ago.

The purser ordered his men to slice the ham at once: “Then he’s in for a treat! This is Belgian ham.”

“Belgian?” Yuqing’s brow furrowed slightly. “Is it better than French?”

He knew painfully little about the outside world. France, America, Germany—these names had reached his ears solely through his father’s retellings. In all his years, the furthest Yuqing had ever traveled was Shencheng.

He was merely a conservative man raised within the confines of Baizhou; he had never laid eyes on the world beyond.

A sea breeze drifted through the window, carrying a hint of brine.

The purser chuckled, “Of all the hams across the globe, Belgium’s is the finest! Even France can’t hold a candle to it.”

Yuqing was ever prudent: “Bring the French variety as well. In case his palate isn’t accustomed to it, the familiar kind is best.”

“Just who is it that warrants so much care from Boss Ruan?”

The shipmasters at the docks revered Yuqing like a guardian deity of wealth; not one dared show him anything less than utter respect.

Yuqing found it awkward to call him his husband, so after a pause, he answered offhandedly, “A younger lad in the family, you could say.”

“A child?”

“Mm…”

Yuqing thought: I suppose he counts.

If he had truly been his father’s son, he would be Zezhi’s elder brother by age; the phrasing wasn’t far off. In these times, declaring outside that he was a man’s wedded wife would only invite unsavory gossip upon Zezhi. Yuqing had never been one to court trouble, preferring to keep a low profile and avoid showing his face whenever possible.

Once everything was arranged, the car drove back to the estate.

At the entrance, Butler Deng was already waiting to take his things. Catching the man’s beaming smile, Yuqing asked, “Has the Master returned?”

Butler Deng pressed his lips together in a grin, wondering how the Madam had guessed before he could even speak—the Master had explicitly wanted to surprise him!

Handing his briefcase to Xiao Yue, Yuqing pulled his cloak tight and stepped through the threshold. “You’re wearing your purple robe today. Every time the Master comes home, you dress with such ceremony.”

Butler Deng hadn’t been wearing this when he left this morning, yet had changed in the interim. It was obvious that someone of prime importance had arrived; it required no guessing at all.

“Take it slow, Madam,” Xiao Yue offered an arm to steady him.

Once inside the courtyard, Yuqing dropped his formal posture. Xiao Cui took his heavy cloak, and with one hand braced against his lower back and the other resting on Xiao Yue’s arm, he strolled inward at an unhurried pace, murmuring, “Why has he come back again?”

His tone sounded almost like a fond complaint.

Though Xiao Yue was a domestic servant born into the estate, he was only fourteen: “Madam, look at your smile—isn’t this a joyful occasion?”

Supporting his waist, Yuqing—normally so composed—found his steps quickening involuntarily. Hearing Xiao Yue’s words, he quickly touched his cheek. “Am I smiling?”

“You certainly are! You rarely showed much expression before, let alone looked this happy!”

“Nonsense,” Yuqing chided softly, though the corners of his lips curved upward despite himself. “Go have the meal prepared.”

Xiao Yue escorted him into the courtyard, bowing with a grin before scurrying off. “Right away!”

When the man was away, Yuqing never felt an acute sense of longing.

He would merely practice his calligraphy in the study after going over the ledgers. When fatigue set in, he would recline in the rocking chair, swaying gently as he waited for the call that inevitably came before the bank closed.

Zhou Xiao was dreadfully clingy. He would interrogate him on what dishes he had eaten, demand the names of every pastry, ask whether the child was kicking, whether his back ached, babbling on without end.

If Yuqing casually named a sweet, Zhou Xiao would spend half an hour explaining how he had acquired it: where he had gone, who he had seen eating it, how he had tracked down the baker, and how he had bought it fresh for his expectant wife.

On and on it went…

He could spin the tiniest trifle into an endless saga.

Sometimes Yuqing wondered: how could a man have so much to say?

And talking wasn’t enough—Zhou Xiao demanded that Yuqing ask him the very same questions in return. If he refused, the man on the other end would throw a full-blown tantrum, claiming Yuqing didn’t love him, didn’t care for him, and threatening to throw open the window and leap out.

Yuqing had never encountered such a brazen scoundrel in his life.

Over these days, he had been forced to learn an absurd amount about Zhou Xiao. If the man didn’t radiate such scorching, unyielding heat every time they met, Yuqing would have genuinely doubted whether he was older than six.

Reaching the bedchamber, Yuqing paused at the doorway.

Pushing the door open, he was immediately swept into a pair of arms the moment he crossed the threshold. Yuqing raised a hand to block his mouth, and the man’s descending lips landed squarely on the back of his fingers.

“Qingqing…” Finding only the back of Yuqing’s hand, Zhou Xiao scowled with dissatisfaction, yet was thrilled that Yuqing was teasing him. He lunged toward his cheek instead.

Anticipating the move, Yuqing blocked his cheek as well.

Thwarted twice, Zhou Xiao knitted his handsome brows in a playful frown. “Hmm? Qingqing won’t let me kiss him?”

He spun Yuqing around in a smooth, deft motion, hugging him from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder, his deep voice rumbling low: “Have you found yourself a new lover out there? Grown sick of me already?”

Yuqing reached back and pushed his forehead. “What on earth goes on inside that head of yours all day?”

Zhou Xiao’s low, velvety timbre hummed against his ear: “Aside from you, what else could I possibly think about?”

“Studying in France only taught you sweet talk,” Yuqing murmured, the tips of his ears warming.

Zhou Xiao cupped his belly from below. “We haven’t seen each other in days; it seems to have grown bigger again.”

Yuqing nodded. “The physician said that past the sixth month, every day brings a noticeable change.”

“Did you miss me…?” Zhou Xiao brought the topic right back, the bridge of his tall nose nuzzling against Yuqing’s cheek and the shell of his ear, mumbling, “Hmm? My sweet Qingqing…”

As he spoke, his restless fingers were already working loose the frog buttons at Yuqing’s collar.

Yuqing caught his wrist. His hands felt like cool jade against warm skin as he rested them languidly over the back of Zhou Xiao’s hand. “I thought you were a lovesick ghost who merely missed me, but it turns out…”

His other hand reached back to tap Zhou Xiao’s cheek, giving it a playful pinch. “…you’re just a greedy glutton?”

“Just checking to see how many ghosts you’ve been harboring.”

A soft gasp escaped Yuqing’s lips as he was swept cleanly off his feet.

His long, slender frame hovered in the air, his calves dangling over Zhou Xiao’s arms, swaying gently with every stride the man took.

“What nonsense are you babbling…” Yuqing was set down onto the bed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Zhou Xiao had been fuming all day.

How long had Zhou Yuyang known his wife? What right did his face have to brush against Yuqing’s hand?

Most crucially: what had Yuqing handed him?

He didn’t even dare let Yuqing find out that the man was his own Third Uncle.

Yuqing had revere for that dead old man of a father. Even though Second Uncle had made his life miserable in the past, Yuqing had still arranged for a fine coffin to see him buried after his death. If Yuqing learned that the officer who could help him secure the port was his Third Uncle, heaven knew what would happen!

Third Uncle didn’t look like Zhou Yuzhang, but they were half-brothers after all. Yuqing was soft-hearted and always placed weight on family ties.

Most perilous of all… Zhou Yuyang was roughly the same age as Jiang Sui.

Yuqing had a penchant for older men—and this one was a Zhou to boot. Who could guarantee Yuqing wouldn’t develop a soft spot for him?

He had to get rid of Zhou Yuyang before Yuqing ever discovered his identity.

Jealousy burning in his eyes, Zhou Xiao leaned down and finally claimed his mouth, leaving several fierce, possessive marks on the skin of Yuqing’s neck.

The pale, porcelain flesh bloomed with bright red bruises in an instant.

Yuqing let out a soft gasp, drawing in a sharp breath.

Sometimes he simply couldn’t handle Zhou Xiao’s ferocious, wolfish energy—impatient, ravenous, as if arriving a second late meant starving to death.

Yet Yuqing was about to become a mother; seeing him this starved, how could he not indulge him…?

“Where did you get this?” Yuqing finally managed to catch his breath, his lips swollen from the kissing. Zhou Xiao’s mouth had pulled away, replaced by a white magnolia blossom produced from heaven knew where.

It was a small, delicate bud, unlike the lavish bouquet of peonies from before. Peonies demanded abundance, but a magnolia bloomed upon a bough—a single blossom was plenty to admire, carrying a faint, refreshing fragrance.

Another new flower.

While Yuqing admired the bloom, the man was already making wet, smacking sounds against him, asking curiously, “Do you like it?”

Yuqing smiled with knitted brows. He was an exquisite, mature beauty who seemed to have weathered the world, yet beneath that alluring exterior lay a gaze of surprising innocence—a man who could be charmed by a single flower…

“Mm…”

His head tilted back slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Zhou Xiao, pull your teeth back.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Zhou Xiao relished obeying his wife’s commands.

Yuqing combed his fingers through his hair, lifting the magnolia into the air to study it. “Being coaxed into bed by a single blossom… isn’t Yuqing selling himself far too cheaply?”

“I searched through all of Liu County to find this one solitary magnolia that had just bloomed. Qingqing, it carries immense weight.”

Baizhou was colder, rarely seeing magnolias bloom. Liu County was milder, nurturing such tender flowers that could open even in winter.

Yuqing possessed an elegant jawline, and his pregnancy had left his body exceptionally sensitive. A few minutes of being attended to had him trembling all over.

The young wolf was bursting with vigor and relentlessly demanding; arriving home, his very first act before doing anything else was to bury himself deep in his embrace.

When dinner arrived, Xiao Yue didn’t dare call them. Deng Yongquan had already ordered the servants to clear out of the courtyard.

By the end of it, Yuqing was drained of all strength, unaware of when the servants had even carried the bath barrel inside. His hair was long, and every inch of his body longed for hot water to find relief.

“Put me down…” Yuqing protested as he was lifted into the barrel.

“Your belly is big, so you can only lean on me. Did your legs giving out just now hurt Qingming? Let me feel.” Zhou Xiao lowered him gently into the water.

Yuqing braced his arms on the rim of the barrel, intending to swat the man’s hands away, but Zhou Xiao was rubbing his lower back with genuine, tender care.

They didn’t indulge in intimacy often—being separated in two different cities, absence stoked longing, but when they reunited…

Zhou Xiao was simply too massive.

Yuqing truly struggled to bear it.

Even before he was carrying a child, Zhou Xiao hadn’t known how to be gentle. Yuqing remembered their feverish coupling when trying for a baby all too vividly—facing each other, his flat belly…

Zhou Xiao was young, and as his elder wife, he felt he had to indulge him.

Zhou Xiao scooped warm water over his shoulders, pulling up a stool to sit beside the barrel. He was bare-chested save for a white undershirt, his arms corded with lean muscle. Through the water, he poked Yuqing’s belly with a finger: “Did your dad wake you just now, you lazy brat?”

“Watch your tongue!” Yuqing pinched his ear.

“Qingqing, why are you blushing?” Zhou Xiao leaned in close.

Yuqing turned his face away, but Zhou Xiao leaned over with a grin, marveling, “You really are blushing.”

“Stop touching me.” Yuqing felt genuinely shy.

He curled his arms around his belly and turned sideways, refusing to let Zhou Xiao stare.

Rooted in traditional decorum, Yuqing viewed himself as a wife rather than a husband. This protruding abdomen had long departed from a normal man’s form. Having Zhou Xiao gaze at his belly… felt somewhat like having his toes sucked—indescribably humiliating and intimate.

A proper wife never displayed herself naked before her husband; tradition dictated sleeping wrapped in bedclothes even after intimacy. Laying bare for someone to gawk at was deemed wanton.

Yuqing considered himself a man of propriety.

“My sweet Qingqing, they don’t care about such things abroad. We’re both men; what is there to fear?”

“How could I not fear it?” Yuqing pointed at his own body. “That mouth of yours terrifies me.”

The bronze mirror on the vanity reflected Yuqing’s snow-white figure—from his neck to his collarbones, trailing down to the swollen curve of his waist, varied shades of red marks bloomed across his skin. Every time, Yuqing couldn’t tell whether the dampness coating him was sweat or the traces of being licked and bitten.

Fearing he might be hungry, Zhou Xiao ordered pastries brought in.

Yuqing soaked in the warm water.

An expectant mother, thoroughly devoured by him. When they first met, Zhou Xiao had thought Yuqing was a seasoned seducer, but the longer they spent together, the more he realized Yuqing was endlessly endearing—adorable everywhere, tight enough to drive a man insane.

If he grew a little bold and whispered against his ear, ‘Qingqing, your waist is so soft,’ Yuqing would bite his lip and reach out to cover Zhou Xiao’s mouth.

If Zhou Xiao pushed past his hand and kept talking, Yuqing would plead softly, ‘Zezhi, if you say another word, I will truly get angry.’

Recalling this, Zhou Xiao found his wife enchanting beyond measure.

Normally, he cared for him like an elder, yet in moments of passion, he was both searing and pure, captivating enough to steal a man’s soul away.

“This is cherry pastry fresh from Qipin Bakery—sweet, just as you like it. I picked out a bit of everything.”

With one hand ladling water over Yuqing, Zhou Xiao used the other to hold the plate and feed him.

Yuqing had never been attended to with such fuss, chuckling at his frantic movements: “A dignified master of the house, stooping to servant’s work?”

“What’s wrong with being your servant? There’s nothing improper about it,” Zhou Xiao stated as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “In this day and age, everyone is equal. Serving you doesn’t make me lesser than you.”

Yuqing leaned languidly against the rim of the barrel, nibbling on a small piece of pastry. “Oh? How so?”

In the old days, servants were beneath masters, bound to low caste for a lifetime.

Seeing him eat with relish, Zhou Xiao slipped both hands into the water to stroke Yuqing’s ankles—he had only kissed them earlier without biting, and wanted to hold them now: “When I serve you, does it feel good?”

“Mm…” Yuqing waited to see what twisted logic he would spin.

“If I serve you well, what happens when I stop? You’ll naturally feel miserable. Once you grow used to me, you won’t be able to leave me.”

Yuqing chuckled softly, calling him absurd.

“Can’t I simply find someone else to serve me?” Yuqing asked. “Why must it be you?”

Zhou Xiao had been preening over his clever scheme. He thought he could serve Yuqing whenever he pleased, and withhold it whenever he wished—keeping the upper hand firmly in his grasp!

Who knew Yuqing’s single remark would strike at the raw truth: he could simply swap him out for another.

The words “swap him out” triggered Zhou Xiao’s deepest insecurities.

Snatching the washcloth from the water with a surge of anger, he scrubbed Yuqing’s skin in stony silence.

Yuqing assumed the man had simply been rendered speechless by his teasing, but turning his head, he was greeted by an astonishing sight.

“Good heavens, my little ancestor, what is the matter now?”

Zhou Xiao used the shoulder of his undershirt to scrub at his red, brimming eyes, looking utterly crushed. When Yuqing reached out, he dodged away: “Go find someone else, then.”

“Why are you crying…?” Yuqing moved to climb out of the water.

Fearing he would catch a chill, Zhou Xiao pressed him back down, only to lean in closer and weep openly.

Yuqing: “…”

“We are already separated by distance. I worry about you every day, desperate to know every little thing you do. Yet you? With one casual joke, you talk about replacing me! Ruan Yuqing, your heart is made of stone!”

Cupping the man’s face, Yuqing wiped away the tears: “What are you doing…”

“It was just a tease; why take it to heart?”

“Haven’t you wanted to replace me from the very start?” Zhou Xiao ground his teeth in fury. “Or do you already have someone else on the outside?”

Burying his face against Yuqing’s wet shoulder, Zhou Xiao sobbed into his ear, “If not for the old man, you wouldn’t even be with me! Are you planning on never loving me for the rest of your life? All this time, my devotion has been thrown away on a fool! Playing with me, discarding me the moment you’re done!”

He hauled Yuqing out of the barrel, dried him off, bundled him into clean robes, and set him on the edge of the bed, continuing his tirade.

“You talk so sweetly about parental duty, but all you care about is Qingming! You don’t give a damn about me, whether I behave or not—you don’t care at all…”

“Every single day, I have to beg you to ask what I ate and what I did before you even ask! Otherwise, you wouldn’t utter a word!”

“I should stab Qingming to death and then kill myself right in front of you, so you can drown in regret, leaving you with not a single drop of Zhou blood left!”

The venomous, unhinged thoughts slipped out before he could check himself, chilling his own heart halfway through.

Yet before Yuqing could even get angry, his slender shoulders were crushed in a desperate embrace. Zhou Xiao abandoned every shred of dignity, looking like a heartbroken soul cast out into the cold. Slipping from the chair, he dropped to his knees, burying his face in Yuqing’s lap, weeping bitterly.

Yuqing: “…”

This man was so remarkably petty he couldn’t take the slightest joke.

“Speak! Have you taken a lover outside long ago? Jiang Sui is dead, Zhao Fu is gone—who else is there?!”

Yuqing: “…”

Yuqing wanted to know as well: just who had he been seen with for this man to catch wind of it? Returning home without explaining a thing, first tearing through him in bed, and now throwing a full-blown tantrum on the floor. If not for the massive frame kneeling before him, Yuqing would have truly pitied him like an abandoned puppy.

“Say something! Ruan Yuqing, speak… what do you mean by this?!”

Yuqing rubbed his aching brow: “I won’t ever tease you again, all right?”