Xu Liling told her to stay out.
Frying fish made heavy oil fumes and splattered.
So Ying Ran stood outside, leaning on the windowsill, watching him fry.
A batch of fish came out, still crispy. Ying Ran opened her mouth: “Ah—”
He picked a boneless piece with chopsticks and fed it to her.
Ying Ran ate it, smiling brightly. A bit salty, but acceptable. Would it be too bland for him?
Ying Ran: “Huai Zhen, does this fish taste salty to you?”
Xu Liling, bluntly: “Can’t taste it.”
Ying Ran: “Then braise the fish in two batches—one saltier, one lighter.”
Xu Liling: “Hm.”
Ying Ran opened her mouth again: “Ah—”
He fed her another piece.
Big Flower shouted in her mind: “Stop eating! Save some for me!”
It and Little Yellow ran over, staring eagerly, making her laugh. She had Xu Liling toss them two pieces.
The two scampered off happily with the fish.
Ying Ran asked Big Flower: “Tasty?”
Big Flower: “So-so…”
Ying Ran: “Then don’t eat it.”
Big Flower: “…Salty, but good.”
Ying Ran’s lips curved, leaning on the sill, chatting idly with Xu Liling.
When he finished cooking, they ate together in the yard.
He didn’t make a separate batch for himself.
Ying Ran had reminded him, but he said he didn’t like fish, found it fishy.
Ying Ran also disliked fishy smells and ate little fish. Back in Yunshui County, they rarely ate fish, so she didn’t insist.
After dinner, Xu Liling washed the dishes.
Ying Ran sat in the yard, cooling off. Big Flower, belly round, sprawled on the ground: “Let’s eat fish every day!”
Thinking of Little Yellow, Ying Ran balanced things: “Not every day. Little Yellow likes meat; we’ll have meat sometimes.”
Big Flower huffed at Little Yellow.
Little Yellow whimpered innocently.
Big Flower, surprised, told Ying Ran: “The dumb dog says it likes fish too.”
Xu Liling: “Rest early.”
Ying Ran’s round apricot eyes flushed with shyly: “Rest early?”
Big Flower and Little Yellow, trailing them, looked skyward: It’s barely late afternoon! Only two meals today, and you’re resting?
Xu Liling: “Walk, bathe, rest early, then have a late-night snack?”
Ying Ran caught his meaning, lips curving: “Mm…”
Big Flower yowled: “Don’t ‘mm’! I want fish tonight!”
Ying Ran shot Big Flower a playful grimace.
Silly cat.
Big Flower meowed frantically around her.
Ying Ran, helpless: “Fine, we’ll have fish for the snack.”
Big Flower quieted, boasting to the silent Little Yellow: “Dumb dog, learn something.”
Little Yellow glanced at Xu Liling: Stupid cat doesn’t know how scary this demon is.
It wasn’t staying quiet by choice—it didn’t dare make a sound.
Deep into the night, the moon and stars hung in the sky.
Ying Ran’s head hung half-off the bed, one of his hands at her nape, half-supporting, half-holding, forcing her to face upward.
Her voice trembled softly, long hair cascading like a waterfall, swaying suddenly like a curtain. Her parted lips were sealed, her breath quickening until she could barely breathe.
Panting, she weakly patted his arm, which trapped her completely, murmuring between lips: “No… no more… tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow, continue?”
His voice was low and husky, yet calm, unlike her exhausted state.
She didn’t want to continue tomorrow but coaxed: “Mm, tomorrow…”
Xu Liling knew she was fibbing but pecked her lips, nipping once before letting her go, helping her lie back on the bed.
The bed was a mess. Ying Ran, too tired to move, closed her eyes, feeling sticky all over.
Xu Liling, shirtless, threw on an outer robe, scooped her up with one arm, tossed the soiled bedding and clothes to the floor, wrapped her tightly in his robe from the rack, and carried her to the side room to bathe.
The side room had a shower and a tub.
After rinsing off the indistinguishable mix of sweat or otherwise, Xu Liling sat with her in the steaming tub.
Ying Ran was drowsy with exhaustion.
Xu Liling leisurely splashed water to clean her: “Still having a snack?”
Ying Ran wanted to say no.
But thinking of Big Flower and Little Yellow, she sighed: “Yes.”
She looked utterly spent.
Xu Liling finished washing, carried her back to the room, tossed two pieces of fish to the two critters without reheating anything, and shut the door.
Ying Ran asked: “The snack?”
Xu Liling: “Fed them.”
Ying Ran’s lips curved, lazily leaning into his arms.
The next day was another carefree day of play. At night, Xu Liling rested early with her.
Ying Ran, still worn out from yesterday, hesitated, trying to demur.
Xu Liling didn’t push, just sat by the bed, staring: “Didn’t you say we’d continue today?”
His gaze made her heart race with guilt. She softened, melting into his arms, her slender arms hooking around his neck.
He lowered his head, nuzzling her neck.
Ying Ran murmured: “Just once…”
Xu Liling chuckled softly, not responding.
Late into the night, with no reprieve, Ying Ran’s hands were pinned above her head by his single grip. She whimpered: “Didn’t I say… just once…”
He replied: “You never remember what I say.”
Then she recalled—he’d once said, Once isn’t enough.
Too weak to break free, Ying Ran closed her eyes, openly coaxing under his gaze: “Huai Zhen, let’s sleep, I need sleep…”
Xu Liling didn’t relent.
Her head spun with exhaustion, words spilling freely to placate him: “Huai Zhen, my dear Huai Zhen… good husband… darling… sleep…”
She heard his laugh, opened her hazy eyes, and saw him lean down, silencing her frantic, trembling words. Her consciousness drifted like moonlight, fading until she felt him finally pull away.
How he bathed and cleaned her afterward, she barely registered.
She woke near noon the next day. Xu Liling sat by the bed, reading poetry. Hearing her stir, he set the book down and turned: “Awake? Some fish porridge?”
Ying Ran, hungry, nodded.
She changed and got out of bed, but her legs and waist ached—not unbearable, just uncomfortable. Her inner thighs felt fine, likely because Xu Liling had applied yuehuai dew while she slept.
Xu Liling carried her to the hall for porridge. The fish porridge had been simmering, perfectly timed.
It was made with fresh fish he’d caught while she rested.
Ying Ran: “What about the leftover fish?”
Xu Liling nodded toward the yard, where Big Flower and Little Yellow lounged in the sun, bellies round, utterly content.
Ying Ran smiled, finished her porridge, and was carried back to the room. Xu Liling lifted her skirt.
Ying Ran tensed, pushing his hand away: “I need a few days’ rest.”
Xu Liling pulled out yuehuai dew: “Just a massage.”
Ying Ran, misreading his intent, didn’t blush—she blamed him for her misunderstanding.
She lay down comfortably. Xu Liling slid off her skirt and undergarments, baring her waist and legs, and applied the dew, massaging gently from her waist downward. The discomfort faded quickly, but her sensitive body made her breath grow heavier the lower he went.
Ying Ran glanced back. Xu Liling’s expression was neutral, like an eighty-year veteran acupuncturist, unfazed by anything.
She kept watching him sideways.
Xu Liling met her gaze: “What?”
Ying Ran’s lips curved: “Stop staring and focus. No spirit stones if you mess up.”
Xu Liling caught her jest, replying casually: “Miss Qin, is this to your liking?”
His touch made her thigh tingle, and she gasped, kicking at him.
He caught her ankle effortlessly: “Last night, I asked you to lift your leg, and you wouldn’t. Why now?”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
Ying Ran, flustered, tried to pull her leg free, but he held firm.
Struggling to sit up, she pried at his arm, only for him to pin both her wrists with one hand. Glaring, she kicked at his lower body with her other foot. He released her, grabbing the kicking leg instead.
Ying Ran scrambled to escape, but he caught her waist, dragging her back.
After much tussling, the sheets and blankets fell off the bed. Ying Ran yelped, reaching for them but missing, and slumped, annoyed: “The bedding needs washing again.”
Xu Liling lay back calmly: “I’ll wash it.”
Ying Ran huffed: “Who else would wash it, me?”
Back at Chuntoad Academy, she washed all her things herself, sometimes even tasked by her father to wash bookbags for the students.
After marriage, she was shy about him washing her clothes at first, but soon even her undergarments were his to clean.
Ying Ran dressed, lay beside him, and gazed at the bed canopy, then glanced at him.
He sensed her look, turning to meet it. His face was impassive, but his dark eyes, reflecting her smile, seemed to thaw like a spring night.
Ying Ran grinned, tracing his face with her finger. Though not a moment needing coaxing, she whispered: “Huai Zhen… my dear Huai Zhen…”
He closed his eyes, pulling her into his arms.