It rained last night.
Xue Ling was jolted awake that morning by the icy rain leaking through the roof.
Cold droplets landed on her face. She pushed Gu Xingzhi’s hand away, sat up, and stared blankly at the ceiling as chilly water dripped through the gaps above.
She would have to repair the roof again.
The house had long since fallen into disrepair. The beams had been eaten through by insects, and several of the moss-covered roof tiles were broken. She was always repairing one place only to have another fall apart, and she had no money to hire workers to fix the roof. Thus, whenever it rained, water leaked into the bedroom. All she could do was place wooden buckets beneath the leaks to catch the water and keep it from spreading across the room.
Xue Ling had long since become highly skilled at making simple repairs to a leaking roof.
She threw on an old garment that needed washing, carried a wooden ladder in from outside, and struggled up it. She reached out, letting the icy rainwater seep into her sleeves as it slid along her fingertips.
So cold.
Xue Ling’s fingers trembled as she shifted the gray-green roof tiles. Her entire body was stiff with cold, but she gritted her teeth and patiently continued adjusting the tiles.
At the very least, she had to protect the bed and keep the rain from soaking it.
By the time Xue Ling had finished fixing the spot, her hands were so frozen that they had gone stiff. Her lips had turned pale blue, and the thick, straight fringe over her forehead was soaked into separate strands. Only then did she finally manage to repair the leak.
When she happened to lower her head, she saw that the young man had woken as well. He had risen and was kneeling upright in the clean corner at the other end of the bed.
He sat with restrained propriety, both hands resting on his knees as he quietly waited for her to finish repairing the roof.
A faint light fell across his unnaturally pale, snow-white skin, like moonlight leaking through a waning moon. He was so immaculate that he inspired an urge to worship.
Xue Ling suddenly thought that he had probably never lived in a place as poor as hers, where one had to take tiles from one part of the roof to patch another, in a house that still leaked whenever it rained.
He must have lived in a grand residence of gold and splendor, with gold and jewels covering the floors and countless servants at his side. He would never have been thirsty or hungry. Perhaps even if he accidentally got a little rainwater on himself, a servant would kneel before him and wipe it away.
For no reason she could explain, she felt terribly jealous of him and hated him terribly.
Xue Ling glared at his face, covered by a white cloth, then raised her hand and opened another large hole in the roof above him.
Rain pattered down onto his black hair. As though sensing it, he lifted his head. The white cloth over his eyes became soaked, and droplets slid down the contours of his face, as if carved by knives and axes, highlighting his pale, aloof pride.
He could not see in the first place. Thinking that this spot was leaking too, he moved toward the other side to avoid the rain.
Xue Ling climbed down from the ladder, then dragged Gu Xingzhi back from the clean, dry spot he had just moved to and positioned him beneath the leak.
She climbed onto the bed, occupying more than half of it by herself, and hummed as she told him, “You’re not allowed to come over here. You may stay only there.”
He most likely knew that she was being malicious. Gu Xingzhi lowered his head indifferently, and before long, the rainwater falling over him had soaked his robes.
Xue Ling hugged the quilt in the corner and admired his wretched appearance. Yet the longer she looked, the more she found another thing about him that made her jealous.
He was so beautiful—more beautiful than any woman.
If she were drenched by the rain and left in such a miserable state, she would look like a thin black-feathered chicken beaten down by a storm, pitiful and bedraggled. But he did not.
Wet hair suited his fair, translucent features perfectly. Crystal droplets of rain clung to his black hair, making him seem so pure and aloof, so restrained, as though he possessed not the slightest worldly desire. Even when humiliated like this, he still retained a kind of benevolence, like a saint with autumn water for a spirit and jade for bones.
In all fairness, Xue Ling thought that if someone treated her like this, she would hate that person to the death. Whether it was an act or his true nature, she could never remain as calm as he was.
He made her look vicious.
Looking at Gu Xingzhi like this, Xue Ling felt a sudden burn in her chest. The inferiority that rose within her made her lower her head in panic. Only after avoiding his gaze did she remember that he could not see now.
Besides, what did it matter how noble he had once been? He belonged to her.
Gu Xingzhi belonged to her now.
Xue Ling raised her head again to look at him, then pulled him forward by the chain.
Caught completely off guard, Gu Xingzhi was abruptly yanked forward. Both hands instinctively braced against her flat abdomen, and the droplets gathered on the white cloth covering his eyes splashed onto Xue Ling’s eyelids.
Xue Ling sucked in a breath. For a moment, she did not know whether to wipe the icy rain from her eyelids or push away the equally cold palms pressing against her lower abdomen.
She kicked him away at once and accused him shrilly, “You did that on purpose! You must have! You knew perfectly well that I’m afraid of the cold.”
Gu Xingzhi was kicked squarely in the face. His brows drew together, but his first thought was:
So thin.
She was far too thin, completely flat without the slightest bit of flesh. And yet, when he held her in his arms at night, she became soft all over.
Why…
When Xue Ling saw that he seemed dazed after being kicked, she assumed he had struck the back of his head against the low cabinet. Startled, she almost forgot to continue scolding him. She crawled over, lifted his head, and pushed aside his wet black hair to examine the back of his skull.
No injury. No blood.
Xue Ling had only just breathed a sigh of relief when the young man’s hoarse voice sounded from within her arms.
“I’m fine. You can let go now.”
Xue Ling released him, leaned over him, and groped the low cabinet as she huffed, “I wasn’t checking whether you were hurt. I was only worried that you’d damage my cabinet.”
Gu Xingzhi said nothing. He lay on his back beneath her.
He was truly pitifully drenched. Xue Ling was worried that he would fall ill after being soaked in the chill of early spring, yet she could not bear to spend money on his treatment. She therefore adjusted the roof tiles again, changed the bedding, and then went to boil him a bowl of ginger soup to drive away the cold.
She drank a large mouthful first, then carried the bowl back into the room.
She had been gone for less than half an hour. When she returned, the young man who had been lying on the bed seemed to have fallen asleep.
The entire room was filled with a strange, alluring fragrance emanating from his soaked body.
The scent made Xue Ling’s hands and feet go weak, and she nearly dropped the ginger soup in her hands.
She barely steadied her wildly beating heart, then advanced on unsteady legs and placed the bowl on the low cabinet at the head of the bed. She raised her hand and patted his face.
She had only meant to wake him, but the moment her palm touched him, she felt his scorching skin. Xue Ling immediately came to her senses. Beneath the white cloth covering his eyes, she saw a faint flush spreading across his cheekbones.
Did he have a fever?
She raised her hand and was about to feel his forehead with the back of it when he suddenly spoke.
“Don’t touch me.”
He turned his head away, and her hand brushed empty air.
She did not argue with him. Instead, she asked with concern, “Did you catch a chill and fall ill? Is anything hurting? Do you have enough strength to drink some ginger soup?”
If he really was sick, she might have no choice but to throw him out. In any case, he could not die here.
Gu Xingzhi’s tone seemed to soften slightly. “It’s nothing. My body temperature occasionally rises, but it returns to normal after some time.”
“Really?” Xue Ling wanted to help him up.
He seemed able to see her hand and easily avoided it, leaning against the bed frame instead. “Really. Thank you. Give it to me. I can manage it myself.”
Xue Ling handed it to him, but he could not even lift his hand.
Xue Ling scooped up some ginger soup herself and held the spoon to his lips. “I’ll feed you, then. Come on, open your mouth.”
When she had gone out to boil the ginger soup, she had been worried about him, so she had mixed in a little Mafeisan as well.
Gu Xingzhi did not open his lips. Instead, he faced her directly, as if he were looking at her.
Even though she knew that he could not see now, Xue Ling still felt inexplicably guilty.
The guiltier she felt, the more righteous she became. She forcefully pushed the spoon between his lips and complained unhappily, “Drink it already. My hand is getting tired.”
Perhaps he knew that she would not stop until she got her way. The barrier of his teeth did not hold for long before he relented.
Gu Xingzhi had never tasted a hot soup that was neither sweet nor savory, yet bitter and tinged with spice. His throat was momentarily unable to bear it, and he choked, coughing the ginger soup back out.
Xue Ling immediately shoved in another spoonful, pinched his jaw, and said with heartache, “You’re not allowed to spit it out! It’s expensive—one herb costs ten wen.”
Gu Xingzhi had never drunk wild grass that cost ten wen a stalk. The spice reddened the tips of his ears, and his lips became vividly red as he drew in shallow breaths.
He was afraid of spicy food!
Xue Ling was delighted to discover his secret. Perhaps it was not truly a secret, but to her, she had finally found a habit of his that he disliked.
“Xiaobai.” Without even finishing feeding him the ginger soup, she set it aside and wrapped her arms around him. Her voice was unable to conceal her delight. “So you can’t handle spicy food. I’ll remember that.”
Gu Xingzhi lowered his chin. His lips were red as vermilion, and he gave a very soft “Mm.”
Xue Ling had not expected him to admit it, much less respond to her. She looked up happily, but her gaze fell upon his thin lips, reddened by the spice. Beneath his white teeth, she could vaguely glimpse a glistening trace of crimson.
He seemed truly unable to bear the spiciness any longer and was breathing with his mouth open.
So delicate.
She had raised a very pampered little dog.
Xue Ling tilted her head and buried it in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply the alluring fragrance seeping from his skin. The dry, parched feeling returned, more pronounced than usual, like countless ants madly trampling across her heart. An indescribable thirst pressed deep against her throat.
She wanted to… wanted so badly to ease her thirst.
Mist gathered in Xue Ling’s eyes. She lay over him, breathing unevenly as she opened her lips. Strands of that enticing alluring fragrance constantly drilled into her nose, and even her fingertips, clutching the fabric at his waist, had gone numb.
Unable to resist, she followed the clean lines of his neck upward, sniffing.
Gu Xingzhi had long since grown accustomed to it. He sat quietly where he was and calmly turned his head to let her smell him.
Xue Ling could not get enough, especially today. The more she smelled him, the faster her heart raced. Her mind was filled with the tip of his tongue, which had slipped out when the ginger soup had burned him with its spiciness.
He had eaten delicacies from the mountains and seas and drunk fine wine.
But what did those things taste like?
Xue Ling did not know. She could not imagine it, either, so she wanted to taste them.
Because she wanted to do it, her lashes trembled wildly with guilt. Confusion showed in her eyes beneath her thick, disheveled hair. Without realizing it, she lifted his burning face in both hands, and bitterness spread from her heart once more.
“Why are there so many rich and noble people in this world? Why can’t there be one more like me?”
Even her home was dilapidated enough to leak whenever it rained. The fortune-teller said that her fate was ill-starred, and no matchmaker was willing to set foot in her wretched courtyard. Thus, she had not even had the chance to marry and move into a better house.
“It’s truly too unfair.”
She lowered her head without warning and bit down hard on his lips.
Gu Xingzhi had not expected her to suddenly bite him, much less on the lips.
Her teeth were not especially sharp, but they were strong. The pain made him open his mouth instinctively, and the tip of his tongue slipped out slightly, the spiciness not yet gone.
The moment Xue Ling’s wet, soft tongue touched it, her entire body seemed to be struck by lightning. She hurriedly leaned back, covering her lips with one hand as she gasped, her eyes wet. She even found the time to slap him.
The crisp slap turned his face to the side. His black hair fell messily over half of his reddened face. He still seemed to be somewhere outside reality, the tip of his tongue protruding as he breathed out the lingering spice.
Only after a long while did he turn his head back blankly. A red handprint had swollen on his refined cheek.
“Why did you bite me?” he asked.
“Because I hate you.” Xue Ling found him inexplicable. Shouldn’t he have asked why she had slapped him?
“Mm.” He seemed to have asked only casually. Completely unconcerned by the hatred she had expressed, he abruptly sat there with utter indifference.
Xue Ling got up, stepped over his lower leg, and climbed off the bed. She sat by the window with her chin propped in both hands, watching the rain outside descend like dusk. The courtyard beyond seemed to have been enclosed in another small world.
Gradually, she became absorbed in the sight.
The heavy rain did not stop for the entire day. Bucket after bucket filled with water leaking through the roof. Xue Ling sat on the threshold and seriously wove a pair of straw sandals.
She planned to make them for Gu Xingzhi. Once the commotion had passed, she could take the pair he was wearing to the pawnshop and exchange them for a little money.
As she thought this, she suddenly set down the straw sandals she was weaving and turned her head toward the room.
Her gaze landed on the soft silk robe of unknown material, washed clean and folded atop the trunk.
It was the robe Gu Xingzhi had taken off.
Xue Ling raised a hand to cover her chest.
She could not afford undershirts. What she wore underneath was always made by stitching together old clothes too worn to mend, and she kept telling herself that no one could see them beneath her outer garments, allowing her to preserve what little dignity she had.
In any case, she had never planned to sell fabric of such fine quality. She might as well use it herself.
Xue Ling set down the half-woven straw sandals. The gloom between her brows vanished completely as she ran into the room, stood on tiptoe, and pulled out the snow-satin robe. She intended to make several good undershirts and pairs of drawers to wear beneath her clothes.
Her heart filled with delight as she thought only of her new clothes. She did not notice that the young man sitting on the bed seemed to be listening to her movements. When he heard the jade pendant he usually wore at his waist hit the floor, his expression darkened slightly.
It had been sitting on the trunk all along.
Only when the jade pendant fell to the floor did Xue Ling remember it. She had previously taken it from him, intending to pawn it, but then she recalled how someone had recognized Gu Xingzhi in the carriage by the jade pendants worn at the guards’ waists.
If she pawned the pendant and someone discovered it, the loss would outweigh the gain. Thus, she had kept it with the clothing while she tried to think of what to do with it.
The fall had chipped off one corner of the jade. Xue Ling painfully picked it up and tucked it into her clothing.
As for the small fragment of jade on the floor, she planned to grind it into a jade bead and wear it after a few days.
After lunch, Gu Xingzhi still ate only a few bites. Then, as soon as she left his presence, he vomited it all back up.
Xue Ling knew he was disgusted by the food, but she did not criticize him too harshly.
She was busy cutting apart the robe and turning it into several sets of undershirts and drawers for changing into.
In any case, he could not see. Xue Ling simply took off her outer clothes in the room and tried each piece on.
They fit perfectly, and the fabric was so comfortable that she could not bear to part with it. She thought that it would be wonderful if she could wear silk and satin every day.
Xue Ling could not bring herself to take them off. She left them on beneath her outer clothes, then ran to Gu Xingzhi and hugged him happily.
“I don’t hate you anymore.”
Her words seemed to come from nowhere. Gu Xingzhi lowered his chin thoughtfully, wondering what had made her say such a thing.
Xue Ling did not have so many thoughts as he did. She simply no longer hated him at that moment because she had benefited from him.
Because she felt so comfortable, she did not let him hold her that night. Instead, she hugged herself, secretly extending a hand to stroke the soft fabric over her chest.
What sort of miserable life had she been living before?
Xue Ling became even more determined. If she ever got the chance, she would certainly live the good life: wearing silk and satin every day, eating more sweet chestnuts than she could finish, and adorning herself with more gold and silver jewelry than she could wear.
She fell asleep sweetly amid her fantasies. Her body instinctively burrowed into the warm embrace behind her, and she mumbled drowsily, “Hold me. I’m cold.”
Gu Xingzhi held her.
Thinking of how she had secretly stroked her chest earlier, the hand resting at her waist moved upward, as if wanting to touch whatever she was hiding there and could not bear to part with.
But when his fingertips touched her meager yet soft breasts, they paused slightly.
She was so thin.
Gu Xingzhi subconsciously let go and placed his hand against her flat abdomen, pressing her into his embrace. He rested his chin beside her ear and inhaled the scent of her body, no longer reaching for her chest.
Gu Xingzhi developed a fever.
During the night, Xue Ling woke abruptly, feeling as though she were lying inside a furnace.
She drowsily reached behind her toward the source of the heat. The moment her hand touched his burning skin, she jolted awake.
The rain was still falling outside the window. Its soft, drizzling sound concealed his faint, nearly inaudible breathing.
“Xiaobai…” Xue Ling fumbled to light the oil lamp on the small cabinet beside the bed. When she turned around, she saw that half his body was exposed outside the covers, the bare, pale skin faintly flushed with heat.
His cheeks were flushed even more deeply, as though he had contracted a fever.
He had probably been drenched by the rain during the day, and at night she had wrapped all the bedding around herself because she was afraid of the cold, leaving him to catch a chill.
Xue Ling felt his forehead and called to him, “Xiaobai, are you all right? Wake up.”
The young man’s sickly face was flushed, but he gave no response.
Xue Ling could not wake him. She guessed that he had fallen ill after being drenched in the cold rain during the day; he had already been injured, and the chill had seeped into his body on top of that.
Worried that the fever would muddle his mind, Xue Ling rummaged out the last bit of medicinal liquor in the house—the kind used only for bruises and injuries. She rubbed it over his body, intending to cool him down with this folk remedy.
To make it easier to apply the medicinal liquor, she needed to remove his upper garment. Just as she undid the frog button at his collar, he suddenly seized her hand and rasped, his lips pale and darkened with fever, “What are you doing?”
Seeing that he was still reasonably lucid and could speak clearly, Xue Ling relaxed a little and explained, “You have a fever. I’m applying medicinal liquor to bring your temperature down.”
As she spoke, she shook the gourd of medicinal liquor beside her.
Gu Xingzhi vaguely heard the liquid sloshing inside, but he still did not release her wrist.
The two of them remained locked in a stalemate on the bed beneath the faint candlelight.
Gradually, Xue Ling understood what he meant.
He did not want her touching his body.
She was instantly displeased.
She had not only touched him before; she had also changed his dressings every day. People said that wealthy households had countless servants, and that their clothes and baths did not require them to lift a finger themselves. So why could she not rub medicine on him now?
“Let go.” Xue Ling lowered her eyes to stare at his pale fingers tinged with pink and gave the order stiffly.
Gu Xingzhi seemed to move, but he did not release her.
Xue Ling hated that kind of proud stubbornness.
Pressing her lips together, she impatiently set down the gourd of medicinal liquor, forcefully pulled her wrist free, then picked up the iron chain hanging to one side and seized his hand.
Gu Xingzhi faintly sensed what she intended, but his entire body was burning and weak. He could only let her bind both his hands with the iron chain, raise them above his head, and lock them to the wooden frame.
Gu Xingzhi naturally wanted to break free from such a humiliating position, but Xue Ling raised her hand and struck his arm hard. In a cold, grim voice, she threatened him, “If you keep moving, I won’t merely tie up your hands.”
She would hit him.
The threat was indeed effective. At her words, he stopped moving and lay on his back against the hard, dry pillow. His slender limbs were spread out across the narrow, old bed, which creaked at the slightest weight, making him look like a beautiful plaything being abused.
Satisfied, Xue Ling undid his upper garment. She then picked up the medicinal liquor, poured it onto a clean strip of cloth, and used the cloth soaked in it to wipe every inch of his upper body.
She did not know whether he was simply too sensitive or unaccustomed to being touched this way. As Xue Ling wiped his chest, she faintly heard him turn his head aside and let out a soft, muffled groan from his throat.
The low, husky sound made her ears itch. Her hand trembled involuntarily, and she felt as though the tingling in her chest was about to force something out of her.
Male demon.
Xue Ling could tell that he was groaning in annoyance. She raised her voice to conceal the strange sensation spreading through her body. “If you’re going to make a sound, can’t you just cry out? Stop going, ‘Hnn, hnn, hnn, hnn.’”
Gu Xingzhi fell silent.
Without the man’s strained, muffled breathing beside her ears, Xue Ling felt somewhat better. But only her ears felt better. Her nose was still fully occupied by the alluring fragrance seeping from his skin.
The medicinal liquor mingled with his naturally light body scent, filling the air with a rich fragrance like aged floral wine.
Xue Ling stared at his chest, flushed pink from the heat. Unable to resist, she slowed her movements and swallowed.
So pink.
Like peach-blossom petals. As if squeezing them would make their heady juice flow out.