Gu Xingzhi had never imagined that the Copper Bell hanging by the head of the bed would ring under such circumstances.
The ringing resembled a long-distant spring rain falling upon a broken windowsill and tiled eaves, one hurried drop after another landing on his skin, as though soaking straight into his bones.
What he wanted to seize was the woman’s foot, but when the pressure suddenly increased, a moan spilled from his throat.
His voice, originally clear and detached like raindrops, stretched into a hoarse rasp that scraped into Xue Ling’s ears. Her legs weakened somewhat, and she stopped without realizing it, clutching her wildly pounding chest as she panted.
Gu Xingzhi gripped her ankle. His expressionless face, its features indistinct, tilted up toward her like a venomous snake lurking in the damp darkness behind dense fog. “Let go.”
Xue Ling noticed that there was little strength in his hand. His body had presumably not yet recovered, so she was not afraid in the slightest. Instead, she pressed down even harder.
A restless restraint showed through Gu Xingzhi’s tightly compressed, thin lips. He struggled with all his might to suppress the sound rising from his throat, but it could not withstand the torment wracking his body.
His elbow braced backward against the edge of the couch, inadvertently brushing the hanging Copper Bell and making it ring.
Jingle…
He tilted his face upward and panted. Flush spread from his ears, which seemed congested with blood, down toward his neck, while the veins there stood out. He was utterly unable to endure such pain and… an indescribable trembling sensation.
Xue Ling had merely ground her toes against him through the fabric, yet he had reacted like this. She was frightened as well.
Thinking she had crushed him, Xue Ling guiltily withdrew her foot and bent over to see whether he was hurt.
Unexpectedly, when she leaned down close to him, she smelled the concentrated fragrance on his body.
It was different from his usual scent. She could not describe it, as though a dew-covered flower had been forced to bloom prematurely, its dampness mixed with a fresh fragrance that rushed into her nose. She felt like a wasp that had come to gather honey.
Xue Ling collapsed onto the couch beside him, burying her face against the side of his tense neck as he tilted his head back and panted.
So fragrant.
Her body went limp, and her hands and feet could not resist climbing onto his still-dazed body. Her two curling black lashes trembled incessantly as she bit her lower lip with difficulty. It was as though the fragrance seeping from his skin had corroded her mind into utter chaos.
Xue Ling saw many scenes.
She lived within high walls and vermilion gates beneath dark-tiled roofs, her head covered in vermilion hairpins, while splendid clothing and jewels were piled around her like little mountains. Countless servants fawned over her, loudly hailing her as a Noble Madam, a Consort, an Empress, a Princess, and a Young Miss.
She was so moved that tears and mucus streamed down her face, wishing only to die amid wealth and splendor.
Yet when the feeling of suffocation truly descended upon her, she felt that she had not lived enough. Her fierce will to live made her open her eyes, and a scalding tear slid from the corner of her eye, landing precisely on the corner of Gu Xingzhi’s lips.
He tasted its bitterness, and the strength in his hand unconsciously slowed.
Xue Ling had not yet recovered her senses. She only felt that his inexplicable act of squeezing her neck was very uncomfortable, so she brushed his hand away and gazed blankly at his faintly crimson lips.
That tear was proof that she had enjoyed wealth and splendor in her fantasy. How could she let him eat it?
In a daze, she lowered her head and pressed her lips against his.
A soft, slippery thing landed on his lips without warning. Gu Xingzhi’s eyes trembled beneath the white cloth covering them, and his thin breath congealed at the tip of his nose. He had only been stunned for a few breaths when the intruder pressed forward insistently and slipped between his lips.
Xue Ling did not know how to kiss, nor did she think she was kissing Gu Xingzhi. She only wanted to lick back her tear of wealth and splendor, so she extended her little tongue and single-mindedly forced open the beautiful curve of his thin, cold lips.
“Ugh…” Gu Xingzhi received the wet softness that intruded inside. The utterly unstructured thrust made him gasp, and the hand he had raised suddenly went weak, gripping the cord of the Copper Bell instead.
The Copper Bell rang several more times.
Gu Xingzhi’s expression could not be called pleasant, but Xue Ling’s face was the complete opposite: pale with a translucent flush, her spine tingling so strangely that she could scarcely breathe.
The sound of the bell and his panting sounded so good.
Xue Ling opened her eyes and stared at the young man so close to her. She clearly felt her tongue connected to his, like two slick little snakes hidden underwater, their entire bodies glistening.
So it turned out… it was not only the fragrance on him that made her happy. His lips did too.
Xue Ling lifted her flushed face and asked him softly between breaths, her lips glistening, “Do you know what my name is?”
Gu Xingzhi was nearly incapable of concentrating on answering her. When their lips parted, the tip of his tongue seemed to be pulled out a short distance by sticky threads. He panted with his scarlet tongue exposed.
Xue Ling asked him again at that moment, “Do you know?”
“I don’t…” His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he answered hoarsely.
Only then did Xue Ling truly believe him. He really had not heard her name. Even if she grew tired of playing with him in the future and permitted him to leave, he would be unable to find his way back.
Xue Ling’s entire body softened into a puddle of mud as she leaned against his wildly pounding chest. Smiling, she watched his long fingers still clutching the red cord attached to the Copper Bell. “The sound of you pulling it is very nice. Pull it more often in the future.”
Gu Xingzhi released the red cord, his face flushed as he panted lightly.
Xue Ling stared at his lips, reddened brilliantly by her biting. She felt reluctant to part with them, but she knew that someone of Gu Xingzhi’s character looked down on her completely. Her touch was to him like a maggot burrowing into the bones.
Xue Ling did not care, however, and helped Gu Xingzhi up.
The young man, now sitting on the couch again, had long black hair cascading down past his waist. A few strands clung to the snowy skin beneath the white cloth, while the remaining bite marks on his lips resembled red plum blossoms blooming unchecked. Yet he looked exceptionally cold and indifferent.
Thinking of their contact just now, Xue Ling turned her head and left the room.
Night had fallen outside. Only the candle burning on the stove remained, weeping waxy tears. In no more than a short while, the water heated in the hanging copper furnace had already cooled somewhat.
Xue Ling added a few pieces of dry wheat leaves beneath it to rekindle the fire and heat the water.
Because she had fallen onto the ground, the skin on her knee had been scraped open. Skin, flesh, blood, and mud were mixed together. Sitting on a wooden stool and biting her lip, she first endured the pain and carefully washed the wound, then fetched alcohol and wiped it around the reddened knee.
Once the water was hot, she poured it into a wooden tub, removed her clothes, and climbed in naked to bathe, bending her injured leg to keep it away from the hot water.
Early spring was cold. Every time Xue Ling bathed, she would shiver from the chill. Whenever that happened, she leaned against the rim of the tub and closed her eyes, refusing to look at her surroundings. Instead, she imagined how much coal and how many blocks of ice she would add to her baths in the winter cold and summer heat once she became rich, and how many servants would fuss over her from morning to night.
Thinking this way made her feel that the world was beautiful beyond compare. Her heart warmed, and her body acquired the contented warmth of fulfillment.
She washed away the dirt she had picked up from the ground during the day, rose from the water, pushed the tub into the courtyard, and emptied it. Then she pushed the tub back into the bedroom.
Hearing the sound of a heavy object being moved, Gu Xingzhi seemed to want to get off the couch, but his hand accidentally touched the Copper Bell by the head of the bed, and disgust rose in his heart.
Xue Ling turned toward him at the sound and walked over.
Although his face showed little expression, his body moved backward slightly. Clearly, the touch just now had caused him to feel repulsed by Xue Ling.
Xue Ling gave him a few sidelong glances, then deliberately bent down and leaned over to take something beside him.
The damp sweetness of her freshly bathed body spread toward him like fragrant mist. Gu Xingzhi turned his head away to avoid it, unaware that he had thereby exposed his ear, where the flush had not yet faded, to Xue Ling’s eyes.
The crimson in the soft flesh of his ear spread from beside it downward toward his neck. The last trace of red was hidden beneath his collar, making one irresistibly want to pull it open and peek inside.
Xue Ling followed the inclination of her heart. When the thought arose, her hand moved as well. She would never shortchange herself.
His collar was abruptly pulled open. Gu Xingzhi’s brow twitched, and he instinctively seized the edge of it as he asked her in a flat voice, “What are you doing?”
Xue Ling looked at him as though he were being inexplicable. “Obviously, I’m taking a look. What else could I be doing?”
From childhood onward, every woman Gu Xingzhi had encountered had known propriety, behaving with gentleness and chastity. At most, they would offend him from behind a screen or through a silk handkerchief, peeking at him hazily and shyly a few times. Never had there been anyone as audacious and reckless as Xue Ling, nor anyone so utterly brazen about it.
His state of mind was no longer as tranquil as it had been at the beginning. After losing focus for only a moment, Xue Ling had abruptly stripped away not only his collar but his entire upper garment.
His fair, sturdy, mature body was exposed in the cold room just like that.
Gu Xingzhi braced his hands against the edge of the couch. The pale skin beneath the white cloth trembled faintly, and his thin, severe lips flattened.
He could feel her undisguised gaze. Beneath such a gaze, he could also sense—
“He’s bigger than me.”
Amid his embarrassment, he vaguely heard her dissatisfied mutter. Immediately afterward, he was pulled to his feet.
Xue Ling pushed him to the front of the bathtub and said angrily, “Wash yourself.”
Having said that, she turned her head and left the room.
At present, she would rather stand outside in the cold wind than look at him.
Alone inside the room, Gu Xingzhi’s expression remained indistinct. His brows seemed to draw together like gathered peaks. The hand resting on the edge of the tub rose and pressed against his chest, which had either stiffened in response to the cold wind or lifted because of her frank appraisal just now.
After remaining silent for a while, he lowered his hand, crossed the threshold fully clothed, and stepped into the hot water.
The tub was very small and could barely contain his body. The water was forced over its edge and splashed across the stone floor. Water filled the cracks in the stone slabs, and curling steam rose up. Gradually, warmth spread through the room.
Xue Ling sat on the threshold, supporting her chest, gazing at the full moon hanging high in the sky that night with considerable jealousy. Her thoughts were like a tangled ball of messy thread.
She was still so jealous.
The rustling sound of water arose inside the room, and the cold wind finally blew away half of the jealousy in Xue Ling’s heart.
She pushed open the door and entered. She had just seen the water covering the floor and was about to complain when she lifted her eyes and saw the young man standing beside the bed.
His hair and clothes were wet. Beneath the dim candlelight, he looked like a beauty fresh from the bath, possessing another kind of indescribable allure.
Using “alluring” to describe a man was inappropriate, but this was the only word Xue Ling could think of. If she had read poetry, perhaps she would have called him a jade-like beauty from a book, or a ravishing ghost in a desolate ancient temple. But she knew nothing at all.
The jealousy remaining in Xue Ling’s eyes dispersed. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his damp chest and breathing deeply of the cold fragrance seeping from his skin. Her heart trembled.
“Xiaobai, if only you were a woman.”
He lowered his head but did not push her away. Instead, he asked her calmly, “Why?”
Xue Ling did not even lift her head as she answered incoherently, “I don’t know. I just feel that if you were a woman, I could keep supporting you forever like this. I wouldn’t get angry at you, and you would know that a life-saving favor ought to be repaid with your body. You would decide to repay me, find yourself a good marriage, support me every day, and take me with you to live a wealthy and happy life.”
It was like the final fantasy of a pauper on the verge of death.
Gu Xingzhi had no comment on her words. He would not support her every day. He would kill her.
Xue Ling held him and smelled him for a long while. When that uncontrollable dryness of the mouth and throat attacked her again, she finally released him with restraint.
The two of them changed out of their wet clothes again and lay down on the old bed, which creaked whenever one of them turned over. Xue Ling still wanted him to hold her tightly.
As soon as he embraced her, her small, thin body curled completely into his arms like a ball of shrimp, and she quickly fell asleep.
Perhaps because he had drunk a bowl of hot water containing a small amount of knockout powder before bed, Gu Xingzhi also fell asleep early that night, his head heavy and clouded. A nightmare quietly burrowed into his dreams.
He slept little and rarely dreamed, but that night he dreamed of the words Xue Ling had spoken before bed.
He did not become a woman in the dream. He remained a man, found himself a good marriage, and brought her into his residence—but he did not support her every day. Instead, he imprisoned her in a room and smelled every inch of her body.
Her hands were bound with strips of cloth as she lay immobile upon a Blood Dragonwood-carved couch. Yet she wept and panted, begging him to stop smelling her. Her eyes, reddened from crying, looked at him in supplication, but he ignored her completely.
The entire room was filled with her increasingly delicate and trembling cries. There was only pleasure in his heart, a pleasure that flowed through every limb and bone, making him bite down on the lips that kept producing those sobs.
She was startled and stared blankly at him, as though asking him—
Why was he treating her this way?
Disgust and pleasure arrived together. As uncontrollable tremors shook him, he raised his hand and covered her eyes.
She should not be able to see either. Trapped in a room where she could never see the sky, she would be sniffed by him day and night, her clothes never enough to cover her body.