“That bitch stripped naked and laid in front of me, I wouldn’t touch her.” Jiang Huaifu’s face twisted with disgust, his teeth clenched as he cut her off: “Once we get what we need, I’ll sell her to the lowest-class brothel!”
His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles went white—if he couldn’t have something, no one else would keep it!
“Whatever you say, but given your current situation, you still need to wait until the child is born before dealing with her. Once you have a child at your knee, many things we do can be done with proper justification.”
Jiang Wang-shi had her own calculations: “These days, you must be patient.”
“Can Jiang Cheng be trusted?” Jiang Huaifu thought to ask: “Will he turn against us?”
“How dare he!” Jiang Wang-shi sneered: “He’s lived his whole life kowtowing to others for scraps—what waves could he possibly stir up?”
Before dawn, Zhao E woke from the pain in her abdomen.
“Xiyu!” she called out, her voice faint and hoarse.
“Miss.” Xiyu, who had been keeping vigil by the bedside, lit a candle and drew back the bed curtain at the sound: “Do you need to use the chamber pot?”
“My menses have come. Have them brew the medicine.” Zhao E’s face was pale, her hand pressed against her stomach as she curled up and gave the order.
“Yes, miss. Bear with it a moment—I’ll go right away.” Xiyu hurried out.
It took over an hour to brew the medicine. Zhao E was drenched in cold sweat from the pain, and she vomited several times, weakly collapsed over the edge of the bed.
Her lower abdomen and lower back ached as if they were being sliced open, the pain even radiating down her thighs.
She had first gotten her menses at fifteen, and for the past three years, every cycle had brought her agony worse than death.
She would take the herbal decoction to sleep, wake up, and take more—each time like enduring a tribulation.
Fortunately, her menses were irregular, coming only every two or three months, so after surviving one bout, she could have a long reprieve.
As the sun set, Zhao E woke again in pain.
The maidservants were prepared and immediately brought her the medicine.
Zhao E leaned weakly against the headboard, about to drift back to sleep.
“Miss, today is the Mid-Autumn Festival. Won’t you have a bite of mooncake?” Xiyu’s heart ached for her, and she spoke softly in persuasion.
Zhao E kept her eyes closed and paid her no mind.
Mid-Autumn Festival?
She had long since stopped celebrating that holiday.
In a daze, she returned to the year she was five. Her mother had come back to see her and her younger brother. It was also Mid-Autumn Festival, and her mother had brought her a beautiful, delicate rabbit lantern.
After that, she never saw her mother again.
“Mother, Mother, don’t go…”
She reached out her hand, trying to grasp her mother’s, but her mother’s face suddenly transformed into her stepmother’s smile.
The whip fell on her without mercy. It hurt—it hurt so much. She rolled on the ground but couldn’t escape the beating.
“I know I was wrong. Don’t hit me, don’t hit me anymore, I beg you…”
In her sleep, she curled up in pain.
“E’er, wake up!”
Zhou Yu sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to feel her forehead as he called softly.
Zhao E opened her eyes, dazed for a moment before her consciousness returned and she recognized the person before her.
She endured the pain to sit up and smiled at Zhou Yu: “You’re here. I’m sorry, I can’t keep you company today.”
Her whole body trembled slightly, her lips drained of color, looking utterly frail.
Zhou Yu pressed his lips together, his gaze clear and cold: “Am I really a beast?”
Zhao E was already in too much pain to speak, only managing a faint tug at the corners of her lips.
Zhou Yu fed two pills into her mouth, then picked up the cup of water, tested the temperature, and brought it to her lips.
“I’ll do it myself.” Zhao E lowered her eyes, reaching out with trembling hands to take it.
Zhou Yu’s eyes were cold and clear. He raised a cup and drank a mouthful of water, his large hand gripping the slender nape of her neck. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers to pass the water over.
Zhao E was forced to tilt her head back and swallowed all the water.
Zhou Yu released her, his eyes still indifferent. His lips, moistened with water, gleamed with a lustrous sheen like pearls and jade—a man of noble bearing suddenly tinged with a hint of carnal desire.
“Beast,” Zhao E cursed under her breath.
The medicine entered her abdomen and turned into a warm current. Wherever it flowed, the pain lessened considerably.
She rested for a moment, and some color returned to her face. The corners of her lips lifted slightly: “Thank you for saving my life.”
Zhou Yu said nothing.
Zhao E smiled and placed her leg across his lap, her voice soft and lilting: “For the grace of saving my life, this young woman has no way to repay it. In this life, I shall serve you like an ox and a horse to repay my benefactor…”
As she spoke, her fair, delicate little foot rubbed haphazardly below his lower abdomen.
Zhou Yu’s ear tips reddened slightly. His large hand caught her restless foot, and he raised an eyebrow: “Kneel?”
“What?” Zhao E laughed softly. The pain had subsided, and light returned to her almond-shaped eyes. Her entire vivid little face had regained some vitality: “You want me to kowtow to you too?”
Zhou Yu’s large hand caressed the tender sole of her foot, his gaze deepening slightly: “Sometimes, kneeling doesn’t necessarily mean kowtowing.”
Zhao E was stunned for a moment before she caught on. She kicked him squarely in the chest and scolded with a laugh: “Beast!”
Zhou Yu was a man who rarely spoke. He appeared noble and self-restrained, dignified and proper—but in truth, whenever he opened his mouth, nothing good came out. He was utterly improper.
“Young Prince, Miss.”
Xiyu entered, head lowered, carrying a black-lacquered tray with gold tracery.
Zhou Yu tucked Zhao E’s foot back under the covers, rose to wash his hands, took the pink-glazed bowl from the tray, and returned to sit at the edge of the bed, stirring gently with a spoon.
Xiyu bowed her head and withdrew.
Zhou Yu scooped up some porridge and brought it to Zhao E’s lips.
“I can do it myself.” Zhao E reached out to take it.
Zhou Yu avoided her hand and looked at her calmly.
Zhao E knew he would not yield. She compromised, leaning against the headboard and pursing her lips: “A dignified Young Prince, and you have a hobby of serving others?”
Zhou Yu said nothing, merely feeding her spoonful by spoonful until she had finished the entire bowl of porridge.
He set down the bowl and rose to untie his belt.
“What are you undressing for?” Zhao E’s almond eyes widened as she scooted toward the inner side of the bed: “I told you, today really won’t work.”
“I’m only sleeping.” Zhou Yu lay down beside her and reached out to pull her into his arms.
“Playing the adulterer so openly?” Zhao E’s hand rested on his lean waist. She was unusually still, only teasing softly.
“Taking care of family for a patient.” Zhou Yu closed his eyes and murmured: “Accumulating virtue and doing good.”
Zhao E was stunned for a moment before she understood that the “patient” he referred to was Jiang Huaifu.
“By your logic, Jiang Huaifu should thank you?”
“No need.” Zhou Yu patted her back lightly: “Sleep.”
Zhao E was also exhausted from the pain. She turned her back to him and closed her eyes. She disliked being too close to people.
Zhou Yu moved closer, his chest against her back, and pulled her into his arms once more.
Zhao E was uncomfortable but too lazy to struggle. In a moment, she had fallen asleep.
When she woke the next morning, Zhou Yu was no longer beside her. She was not surprised: “Someone come.”
“Miss is awake?” Xiyu hung up the bed curtain: “The Young Prince left before dawn. He left this for Miss, saying to take one pill upon waking in the morning.”
As she spoke, she presented a thumb-sized porcelain bottle wrapped in silk with both hands.
Zhao E took it, poured a pill into her palm to examine it—it was the same medicine Zhou Yu had given her last night, small like a black pea, with only a few left in the bottle. She raised her hand and tossed the pill into her mouth.
Xiyu hurriedly offered a cup of water: “Miss, A-Ning sent word that the Second Young Master has been doing very poorly these past few days…”