TAMW CH44

When Zhou Xiao walked out, he was in high spirits and utterly refreshed.

Held tight against Yuqing’s chest with his head cradled, he had felt as though he had returned to a time before he was even born. His wife’s kisses landed softly on his brow from time to time—that tender touch, that faint floral scent, capable of lulling a man into a waking dream at any moment…

Seeing him suffer so severely from the pregnancy for the first time, his heart had ached terribly. Yet he lacked the ability to bear the burden for him. Since he could not shoulder a fraction of the physical pain, he certainly could not let outside troubles weigh on his mind any longer.

Yuqing wanted him to return home and lend a hand, so return he would.

His wife asked it of him, needed him like this—as a husband, what choice did he have?

The corners of Zhou Xiao’s mouth curled upward helplessly.

This sensation of being truly needed was far too sweet. Growing up in this ancestral estate, Yuqing had never taken part in his childhood, yet the man knew him down to the marrow.

Zhou Xiao didn’t know quite how to put the feeling into words…

Someone had been quietly watching over him in the dark, paying him attention. Even before they had laid eyes on each other, his name had been etched into Yuqing’s heart and mind!

Their love, their union—it was simply ordained by heaven!

Lingering by the doorway with a private smirk, Zhou Xiao tucked one hand into his pocket and strode out into the courtyard with an upright, dignified air. “Go find two new cooks. Preferably those skilled in sweets, and sour fare as well. The Madam is suffering from the pregnancy; it’s best to have dishes that suit his palate.”

“We’re making a run back to Liu County to pack up our things.”

Deng Yongquan froze, hurrying to keep pace with him. “Pack what, Master?”

“My luggage, of course! From now on, if anything comes up, there’s a telephone. Just call me from the bank. If it’s a matter of life and death, I’ll head over; if it’s nothing urgent, I’m naturally staying home to look after the Madam!”

“Yongquan, if you see a grand project like this railway through to the end, your future will be boundless. Do you truly plan to remain a domestic servant in the Zhou household your entire life? I took you abroad so you could see the wider world and have more choices ahead of you.”

Holding his chin high, Zhou Xiao spoke with an earnest, well-meaning air: “It’s time you stood on your own two feet. Handle this project well, and why would you ever worry about finding an agreeable wife of your own down the road?”

Deng Yongquan: “…”

Listening to the Master’s lecture, Deng Yongquan couldn’t help sighing in his heart.

So when the Young Master had him do his homework, draft his blueprints, attend his classes, fetch his water, and cook his meals back in the day, it was all for his own good…

Following the Young Master all the way to France, finishing his studies, building a parts factory, returning home to break ground on a railway, striving for a lifetime…

In the end… the ultimate goal was merely to find an agreeable wife!

Deng Yongquan’s eyelid twitched. Did he dare argue?

Even knowing something was terribly amiss, he could only swallow the bitter pill in silence.

Inside, Yuqing had already drifted off to sleep; the child had truly run him ragged today.

Zhou Xiao had kept vigil by the bedside for a long while before quietly slipping out.

He headed to the kitchen in person, intending to inspect Yuqing’s recent meals. Servants in the household stood by during meal times specifically to note down which dishes the master touched and how many mouthfuls he took; by deducing his preferences, they gradually adjusted the daily menus.

Lately, the kitchen staff had been swapped out several times.

Yuqing’s palate shifted rapidly; a dish he could stomach yesterday might turn his stomach the very next morning.

“Where did this ham come from?” Zhou Xiao noticed it the moment he stepped inside.

“The Madam brought it back from the docks; it’s Belgian ham,” the cook replied respectfully.

“Does he care for this? Could it be that he enjoyed what I cooked last time?”

“The Madam doesn’t eat ham.” The cook shaved off a paper-thin slice for Zhou Xiao to taste. “He said if the Master returned, it was to be kept for making sandwiches.”

Hearing this, Zhou Xiao beamed from ear to ear. He rolled the slice between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. “So he was thinking of me after all.”

Unable to keep from smiling, the grin remained plastered across his face. Taking the knife from the cook’s hand, he shaved off several more translucent ribbons of meat in a few effortless strokes. The savory saltiness melted over his taste buds, leaving a lingering trace of sweetness on the finish.

Ah, the sweet aftertaste of a smitten heart.

His blade work was remarkably sharp; with a flick of his wrist, the cleaver spun several times in midair before slicing through the meat. With a clean downward thrust, the blade stood upright, buried straight in the cutting board.

Such knife skills left the cook marveling in silent defeat.

“Go find a Western chef. But Yuqing doesn’t care much for foreign dishes—preferably someone who can fuse Chinese and Western cooking seamlessly. What are you standing there for? Hurry along and find one.”

Deng Yongquan: “Yes, sir…”

Deng Yongquan trotted off to scour the city for cooks. Having combed through nearly every chef in Baizhou, he ended up poaching from the Ruan family’s private kitchen. Master Ruan had been hospitalized with a gunshot wound and hadn’t recovered; he had no need for a master chef anyway. With enough silver offered, the man switched allegiances without a second thought.

Feeling unwell, Yuqing slept fitfully, vaguely aware of an itch across his face.

“Qingqing, I’m heading back to Liu County to wrap up a few matters. I’ll return shortly.”

Zhou Xiao didn’t make a fuss, merely leaning close to his ear to whisper where he was going.

Yuqing let out a soft “Mm.” He wanted to open his eyes, but his lids were too heavy; carrying a child left him prone to deep, exhausting bouts of drowsiness.

Cradling his head, Zhou Xiao murmured, “Night has fallen outside. If you get hungry, have them bring dinner in. Keep resting; I’ll be back the day after tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Take care on the road.” With his eyes shut, Yuqing felt a tender kiss pressed against his forehead. A faint, fond laugh slipped from his nose. “The night air is heavy with dew; put on an extra coat.”

“Yes, I’ll remember the Madam’s words.” In his heart, Zhou Xiao was utterly loath to leave. He wished he could spend the rest of his life tangled up in bed with his wife.

Looking back, he was filled with regret—why had he been so foolish as to run off making money outside? Inheriting this vast family fortune and living in comfort would have been pure bliss, wouldn’t it?

Why did he have to be separated from his wedded wife in two different cities?

Sigh…

Zhou Xiao truly despised his past self, wishing he could give himself two sharp slaps across the face.

In his drowsy state, Yuqing sensed that the man had no real intention of leaving.

His mouth claimed he was departing, yet the next second, those lips pressed right against his cheek. Parting his lips wasn’t enough; he had to pry them open with the tip of his tongue.

If Yuqing frowned and let out a soft whimper of discomfort, the man would hastily shift targets, moving to his cheek or his earlobe.

Though half-asleep, he was attended to with meticulous care.

“I’m afraid your chest will ache again once I leave. Sleep for now.”

“I’ll wait until it swells again, take care of it for you, and then head out.”

Yuqing could even sense that he was kneeling beside the bed.

Such an antique wooden bed was built rather low, lacking the plush mattress of a Western bed. Sitting lower than knee-height, whispering sweet nothings required kneeling; otherwise, the distance was simply too great.

And so Zhou Xiao knelt there by the bedside. Terrified of disturbing his wife’s rest, he refrained from pestering him aside from the occasional stolen kiss, gently twisting a few strands of hair between his fingers—a way to touch Yuqing without waking him.

Yuqing hadn’t eaten much today, and the baby had been restless. Completely drained of energy, he fell into a heavy slumber.

Zhou Xiao toyed with his hair for a while, winding it around his fingertips and letting it unravel.

Yuqing’s hair was remarkably long. Our body, hair, and skin are received from our parents; after leaving the Ruan family, he had grown his hair out again, nursing this long mane for eight whole years.

Long and fragrant.

Zhou Xiao had seen the specialized hair oil sitting on the dressing table, scented with jasmine as well.

In the Republican era, most people—especially the youth—chased modern trends, adopting Western habits in food, dress, and daily life. Long hair had become a rare sight among young men.

Yuqing’s hair was pitch-black. He favored jade and peachwood pins, tending his locks until they were as lustrous as the man himself.

Zhou Xiao took a lock of hair into his mouth to savor it; having been coated with a bit too much essential oil near the ends, the taste was faintly bitter.

Soon, that strand grew damp. He hurriedly wiped it dry with his sleeve, finding another spot to nuzzle.

Once Yuqing was sound asleep, Zhou Xiao, behaving like a petty thief terrified of being caught, unfastened his collar and buried his face inside.

From daylight into the fall of night, without a candle lit, Zhou Xiao found the spot by scent alone. After suckling for a while, relieved that Yuqing remained asleep, he knelt by the bed and unbuckled his own belt.

Since their marriage, Zhou Xiao had never once indulged his desires to his heart’s content.

In the beginning, they were unfamiliar; bound by pride, he stubbornly refused to admit his feelings, while Yuqing never took the initiative to demand anything from him, leaving him frantic with frustration.

Later, with the pregnancy, he feared harming him, and could only suppress the fever in his blood and endure.

Through all this enduring, the ones that suffered the most were the clothes Yuqing had worn.

His forearms were sturdy and strong; doing this sort of thing was hardly a chore, and he could carry on for as long as he pleased…

Yet Yuqing’s robes were made of fine brocades and delicate silks. A few rough tugs would tear or stain them; once the fabric met moisture, it left a stubborn watermark, rendering the garment completely unwearable.

Zhou Xiao was young, and his lust was brazen.

With his wife carrying a child at home, he only wanted to be more clingy.

Only when Yuqing was pregnant and unable to go out could Zhou Xiao cling to him without restraint. Otherwise, the man would be running off to this bank today and checking on that harbor tomorrow—how would there ever be a turn for him?

Come winter, coastal cities like Baizhou were swept by cold, damp sea breezes.

The brazier in the room burned hot, its flames flickering gently.

Yuqing woke up lying on his side. He had expected his arm to be numb from the pressure, but shifting it slightly, he found his sensation intact.

Zhou Xiao must have massaged it before departing; otherwise, his arm would have been completely frozen upon waking.

Reaching toward his chest, it didn’t ache, though it felt somewhat swollen.

That man, never minding his teeth.

Yuqing let out a soft, helpless sigh.

By rights, the very first thing he needed upon waking was to relieve himself.

He had just had a dream—in it, he was trying to hold back a flood. The Zhou estate sat on low ground; when the tide rolled in, the seawater breached the threshold, seeping inside and soaking the floorboards.

Yuqing had tried everything to stop it, ordering servants to pile sandbags, standing atop a stone stool to direct the efforts, terrified that the water would stain his cloth shoes.

Yet the surge was overwhelming, impossible to keep at bay.

Just then, Zhou Xiao had appeared from heaven knew where. The moment he flung the gates open, the seawater swallowed the entire compound in an instant, leaving Yuqing shivering in sheer terror within the dream.

The seawater was salty and damp, yet in the summer heat, it turned scalding.

Yuqing was never a timid man. He knew it was a dream, yet he couldn’t break free, even shedding two bitter tears—after all, the Zhou family was what he had fought to protect, his absolute bottom line.

Who knew Zhou Xiao would swing the doors wide, drowning and shattering his bottom line in one fell swoop.

Trembling with rage and shock in the dream, he had stood on higher ground, motionless, while the waters parted and flowed past him on their own…

When he finally woke, the space beside him was empty.

Habitually moving to get up to relieve himself, he felt no urge at all.

He had clearly drunk plenty of water before sleeping…

Unable to keep food down and plagued by dry heaves, the rising stomach acid had burned his throat with constant discomfort; Zhou Xiao had sat by the bed, patiently spooning warm honey water into his mouth until the bowl was empty.

How was it that after a full night’s rest, he felt no fullness down below?

Yuqing glanced at his trousers—they weren’t wet, and the sheets were spotless.

A certain possibility crossed his mind, and his cheeks burned red with disbelief.

Yet this was Zhou Xiao!

What was that man not capable of?

Yuqing could scarcely believe he had slept so deeply that he hadn’t noticed a thing…

A sensation?

It was pleasant enough, naturally.

Driving along the road, Zhou Xiao was humming a tune—a childhood nursery rhyme that seemed fitting for his new status as a father.

As for the taste lingering in his mouth, the memory was equally sweet.

Whenever Yuqing couldn’t stomach food, he forced himself to drink honey water, filling his belly with liquid. The flavor was faint and mild, and having bathed in jasmine for years, his skin radiated fragrance from head to toe.

With his nose buried against his skin, Zhou Xiao hadn’t been able to draw breath, which dulled his taste buds slightly; he couldn’t pick out distinct flavors, only finding it sweet and fragrant.

In deep slumber, the man was like a plump, ripe grape.

Normally, he could only look—no matter how round the belly grew, he couldn’t indulge.

Today, unable to hold back, he had parted the tender flesh and drawn on it with a bit of suction, letting the moisture spill out.

Flowing like a gentle stream.

Zhou Xiao was blissfully content.

He felt that even if his Third Uncle came looking for him today, he could cordially share a meal with the man before sending him on his way to the underworld.

He had wanted to do this long ago, but Yuqing kept to old proprieties; whenever they shared a bed, the candles were always snuffed, and he could only catch glimpses by the moonlight filtering through the window.

Only when Yuqing slept deeply could he bring a candle closer to admire him from head to toe.

Having had his fill of water, he couldn’t even bring himself to relieve himself on the drive back to Liu County, terrified that Yuqing’s essence would leave his body.

Progress in Liu County was swift; the most crucial tasks for the mine were blasting, exploration, and hauling coal out from the shafts.

Li Yuanjing had studied geology in university; he remained stationed in Liu County, spending most of his time on site. Covered in soot and dirt, he hardly looked like an aristocratic second son.

Hearing that Zhou Xiao was returning straight to Baizhou, his glasses nearly slipped off his nose.

“Why are you heading back now? We’re on the verge of shipping coal out! The railway won’t be finished by the end of the year, but we can already transport coal by road!”

Coal was the largest consumable in winter; ordinary folk and wealthy households alike needed it for warmth. Holding such a resource meant inexhaustible wealth; even selling on a modest scale around Shencheng would yield staggering profits.

Yet transport vehicles, drivers, and the transit permits required for every city gate—those were Zhou Xiao’s specialties.

His old classmate held high office in Shanghai; when Zhou Xiao had gone there earlier claiming he wanted to be a vice president in Shencheng, the transfer had gone through immediately—a vice president dropping out of thin air. Others spent years climbing to such a post, yet he had settled it over a single meal in Shanghai.

Securing those transit permits alone warranted another trip to Shanghai.

With the northern and southern forces clashing fiercely, outside vehicles weren’t allowed entry without permits, let alone trade. To move coal in small batches to neighboring cities, Zhou Xiao should have been heading to Shanghai—why was he running back to Baizhou instead?

Zhou Xiao thought to himself: The respectable Young Master Li never seemed like this in school; he had appeared quite driven, yet now his eyes are blinded by greed! Nothing but money, money, money!

He had a wife and a child waiting for him—a blissful domestic life was calling. Why on earth should he keep turning gears in a coal mine?

If he ended up covered in soot like Li Yuanjing, how would Yuqing ever look at him?

Tch, short-sighted men can’t be saved even after studying in France.

Still, considering the man had never married and knew nothing of domestic bliss—a solitary bachelor, quite pitiful really—Zhou Xiao refrained from speaking harshly.

“The permits can be settled with a phone call; why should I exhaust myself traveling to Shanghai?”

“The Chamber of Commerce competition in Baizhou is fierce right now. My household…”

Before he could finish, Li Yuanjing let out a drawn-out “Oh—! I understand! You want to vie for the Chamber Presidency? Once the railway opens, we won’t even need to pay transit dues to the Chamber! That will save a fortune!”

Zhou Xiao: “…”

Vulgar. Nothing but money in his eyes!

“I knew it!” Li Yuanjing clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes gleaming. “Don’t worry, I have things handled here. If anything comes up, I’ll call you. If you’re still uneasy, have Deng Yongquan drop by occasionally to bring you the data—how does that sound?”

Li Yuanjing and Zhou Xiao had been schoolmates in France, after all.

He knew Zhou Xiao’s foresight far outstripped his own! At such a young age, he was already aiming for the Chamber Presidency—a title his own father hadn’t attained after striving for half a lifetime. Once Zhou Xiao became president and Li Yuanjing served as his right hand, how would his standing differ from a vice president’s? Even his own father would have to bow his head when speaking to him.

Li Yuanjing chuckled inwardly: Following Zhou Xiao is the right move!

Bursting with vigor, he rolled up his sleeves and headed back toward the shafts.

Zhou Xiao: “…What is he grinning about?”

Deng Yongquan: “…No idea, Master.”

The two didn’t linger, taking the latest survey data from the mine. On the drive back, Zhou Xiao skimmed through the pages, roughly tallying the tonnage of coal that could be sold to surrounding counties this winter.

Those two corrupt section chiefs had hoarded the mine to inflate prices, leaving people to freeze to death in Shencheng. Zhou Xiao planned on small margins and high volume, pushing the supply out; by the time the railway opened, coal would be a staple in every household, and raising prices then would bring both repute and willing buyers.

The tasks were straightforward, and Zhou Xiao had expected to return to Baizhou swiftly.

Yet with Li Yuanjing’s reminder, he had to secure transit permits from Shanghai; back and forth, it dragged on for nearly a week and a half.

The fighting between North and South had only just subsided, and intercity travel required permits through convoluted procedures. Aside from approving loan projects and drafting terms at the bank, Zhou Xiao spent his days calling Yuqing.

The bank staff even gossiped among themselves: the Vice President was young, but remarkably capable. He had secured stacks of permits, and his office phone was constantly busy—no wonder he was so successful!

“Qingqing, has the baby been fussing today?”

“A round trip takes less than half a day. I could drive back late at night and return at dawn, seeing you every single day. But you dote on me, so I can only rush through these chores…”

“I knew you cared for me.”

“Qingqing, peach blossom honey comes in with the spring here. I’ll bring some back for you to drink, all right?”

Listening on the other end of the line, Yuqing gave a languid “Mm,” continuing to flip through his book.

He asked suddenly, “What water do you plan to mix the honey with?”

Zhou Xiao answered, “Hot water, of course.”

“Oh, hot water.” Yuqing let out a soft chuckle. “I thought you preferred mixing it with bath water or chamber water. Are my clothes being brought back this time? Quite a few were made for me when Father was alive; don’t throw them away.”

Zhou Xiao feigned ignorance: “What chamber water…”

“Oh, never mind then. I thought when you returned…” Yuqing deliberately drew out his words.

Zhou Xiao pressed immediately: “What happens when I return?”

Basking in the sunlight, Yuqing stroked his belly. “These days, Qingming doesn’t kick much, but he’s heavy. I have to relieve myself constantly—getting up and sitting down over and over is exhausting.”

“I thought that with you back, things might be easier… perhaps I wouldn’t even need to leave the bed.”

On the other end of the line, Zhou Xiao asked eagerly, “Does Qingqing want my help?”

Yuqing countered with a smile: “Yes. With Zezhi away, I truly need help. But… having you support me out of bed repeatedly is exhausting too.”

“Why leave the bed at all?” Zhou Xiao lowered his voice. “If I help you, there’s no need…”

Yuqing leaned back languidly, the rocking chair swaying gently, his shadow rippling across the floor like willow branches. Even with a swollen belly, his frame retained its delicate grace.

“Help me how?” he coaxed gently.

Zhou Xiao was practically lying across his desk. He recalled slipping beneath his gown before leaving—the warmth pressing against him, and how Yuqing had wept softly in his dream.

Yuqing knew nothing of it, and Zhou Xiao feared terrifying his wife; what if he refused to be intimate with him afterward?

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from seeking him out; by Yuqing’s side, he had to kiss him constantly, feeling an empty ache between his teeth if he went without tasting his skin.

He regretted not leaving a few marks on Yuqing earlier, wondering if Zhou Yuyang had contacted him.

“I can catch it,” Zhou Xiao whispered.

Saying this, the tips of his ears flushed a bright crimson. “If you don’t find me unappealing…”

“Catch it how?” Yuqing asked again.

“Any way you like. Use me however you wish, as long as it spares you the trouble. My sweet Qingqing, what do you say?”

“What a shameless rogue you are.” Yuqing let out a soft laugh through the receiver. “It really was you? Is there anything you won’t put in your mouth? Sucking, licking, and biting on normal days is one thing, but even that…”