Chapter 53: Little Sweet

Pei Yuan pinched the ends of her hair and gently brushed her eyelids. Bao Ning blinked and shrank back from the tickle, leaning against the wall behind her.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand,” Bao Ning mumbled from under the blanket.

“Playing dumb?” Pei Yuan leaned closer. Though his face was still pale, there was now some color to it. He raised his brow and smiled, “Acting all timid now? Weren’t you bold just a moment ago, shoving your feet in my face?”

“You remembered wrong,” Bao Ning argued. She turned over to face the wall, pretending to yawn. “I’m still sleepy. Don’t bother me.”

“Typical rascal,” Pei Yuan tugged her blanket down a little. “Stop hiding your face. You’re all sweaty—aren’t you stuffy?”

He rested his long arm just below her chest, his chin pressing against the crown of her head. The pressure made Bao Ning uncomfortable, and she squirmed a bit.

“Keep still,” Pei Yuan gently bit her earlobe, eyes closed. “Be good. Let me hold you.”

Bao Ning stopped moving. She curled her legs up like a baby, her back against Pei Yuan’s chest. Outside, light rain drizzled, making the silence even more profound.

“Does it hurt?” Bao Ning asked softly.

“I can bear it,” Pei Yuan lowered his head to find her small ear, lightly nibbling it with the tip of his teeth. “See? I don’t even mind you being all dirty. Who knows how many days since you bathed, and I still want to kiss you.”

Bao Ning, both embarrassed and annoyed, jabbed him with her elbow. “I didn’t force you, did I?”

“I wanted to,” Pei Yuan chuckled in a low voice. “I’ve got cheap bones—can’t help sticking to you.”

“You’re still talking!” Bao Ning scratched his arm with her fingernails, face flushed red. “Didn’t know before you were this kind of person—so slick and shameless.”

Pei Yuan asked, “Then what kind of person was I in your eyes before?”

“Arrogant, overbearing, unreasonable…” Bao Ning leaned her head against his chest and slowly listed, “Just really annoying.”

“Not a single compliment?” Pei Yuan frowned, grabbed her shoulders, and turned her to face him.

He teasingly nibbled her nose. “You don’t like me?”

“What’s all this like or don’t like talk…” Bao Ning grew even more flustered, pushing his face away and wiping off the saliva. “Why do you always like to bite?”

“Only bite you.” Pei Yuan’s voice was low and full of energy. He seemed back to his old self, his eyes dark and bright.

Bao Ning didn’t argue anymore. She wanted to take a shower but felt too tired. The bed was warm, and she didn’t want to get up. Pei Yuan was still shirtless, lying flat with one arm around her neck and the other hand resting on her lower abdomen, tapping lightly like keeping a rhythm.

It was a rare moment of peace and tenderness. Bao Ning closed her eyes and rested for a bit, then smiled and poked Pei Yuan’s waist. “Listen, is Ah Huang snoring?”

Pei Yuan tilted his ear to listen. Sure enough, he heard it and laughed. “It’s sleeping pretty soundly.”

Bao Ning sat up. “I’m going to wake it up.”

Pei Yuan clicked his tongue and grabbed her wrist. “Why be so annoying?”

Bao Ning stuck her tongue out at him.

“Then I’m going to shower,” she said, pulling her hair off her neck and reaching past Pei Yuan for the hairpin on the small table. She quickly twisted her hair into a bun. “I’m all sticky.”

“I’ll go with you,” Pei Yuan sat up as well.

There was still a wound on his leg from the leech—about the size of a fingernail. Bao Ning had applied medicine to it. When he moved, some leftover powder fell off, revealing the scabbed wound underneath.

“Stop messing around.” Bao Ning shot him a reproachful glance. “Just stay put. I’ll bring you some hot water later so you can wipe down a bit.” She put on her shoes and lit the lamp, its small flame illuminating the entire room.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The lamb and Ah Huang were sleeping under the window. Bao Ning shooed them away and tiptoed to open the window. A cool night breeze blew in, refreshing and clearing away the stickiness and heat from her body. Bao Ning looked at the dark silhouette of the pomegranate tree outside and stretched lazily.

Pei Yuan leaned against the wall, watching her. She wore light pink inner clothes, revealing a slender white ankle. He subconsciously compared it with his hand—it was barely thicker than his wrist.

Ah Huang’s sleeping spot had been disrupted. It bumped Bao Ning’s leg with its rear, then scampered onto the bed, trying to jump on Pei Yuan.

Pei Yuan shot it a glare. It chickened out and curled up with the lamb at the foot of the bed, their heads pressed together as they continued sleeping.

The atmosphere was warm, like a cozy little home, and Bao Ning’s mood lightened. Today had been an emotional roller coaster.

“If there’s nothing going on these next few days, just stay home and rest,” Bao Ning turned to look at Pei Yuan.

She pursed her lips and, after thinking for a moment, cautiously expressed her thoughts: “Whenever General Qiu returns to the capital, he only stays a few months. We’re still outsiders. It’s not really proper to live in someone else’s home for too long. Maybe we should think about getting our own place.”

“If it’s about money…” Bao Ning watched his expression carefully, “I have some saved. A big house might be a stretch, but a small shop should be doable. If possible, we could move somewhere else where no one knows us and start a small business…”

Bao Ning knew Pei Yuan had his reasons for staying at the General’s estate, but she really didn’t like it here. The place was nice, but it didn’t feel like home—not hers.

Suddenly, her own words felt hollow, so she stopped talking and turned back to look at the tree in the courtyard. She couldn’t really see it—just a patch of darkness.

“In a few days, Wei Meng will come,” Pei Yuan suddenly said.

Bao Ning looked confused. “Who’s Wei Meng?”

“He’s my most capable deputy—and a brother,” Pei Yuan said. “Some of my business matters are also managed by him. The property deeds and land titles—once he arrives, I’ll hand them over to you.”

He added, “I’m not short on money.”

Bao Ning muttered under her breath, “Men and their pride are so strange. That’s not even what I meant.”

Pei Yuan thought she was reluctant. He straightened up and said, “Ning Ning, you need to learn these things. Matters of household property shouldn’t always be left to outsiders. You’re the lady of the house. I was careless before and didn’t think of this, but now that I have, I should entrust them to you. My money should have always been yours to manage.”

Hearing him speak like that, Bao Ning felt a strange emotion stir within her. She couldn’t say whether she was happy or not.

Their relationship had always been unusual. Pei Yuan held noble status, but when Bao Ning married him, he was in such a state that he didn’t even have a single servant by his side. The two of them had lived alone for so long that Bao Ning had unconsciously come to believe—their little home was just the two of them, husband and wife.

But just now Pei Yuan had mentioned property matters and called her the “lady of the house,” and suddenly, their little home had been broken apart and become something bigger—a “great household.”

Bao Ning admitted she was petty and conflicted. Who doesn’t like money? If Pei Yuan had wealth, of course she’d be glad. But if the price of that wealth meant he would become someone like her father—the Duke of Rong—with a huge estate, countless wives and concubines, and her own role elevated to a prestigious madam who no longer managed just a lamb or a dog but a whole household full of people… then Bao Ning couldn’t feel happy about it.

“You…” Her heart clenched as that long-avoided question resurfaced—would Pei Yuan take concubines?

She gathered her courage, just about to ask, when suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed outside the window. Pei Yuan’s attention shifted, and the momentum in Bao Ning’s heart was instantly deflated.

She turned and looked out—it was just as she expected: Qiu Mingshan.

Seeing her at the window, Qiu Mingshan gave a kind smile but didn’t come closer. He stopped at a distance and called out, “Bao Ning, is Yuan’er in?”

“He is,” Bao Ning replied, forcing a smile and giving a polite half-curtsy. She glanced at Pei Yuan—he was already moving, strapping a brace onto his leg.

Pei Yuan moved quickly, threw on a robe, and headed for the door.

As he passed Bao Ning, he reached out and brushed her forehead. “Don’t overthink it. I’m just going to say a few words and will be back soon. Don’t wait up. If it gets late, bathe and go to bed.”

“Okay,” Bao Ning nodded hesitantly, watching him leave.

He was always so secretive, doing things that felt completely disconnected from her daily life—and he never explained them to her.

Bao Ning closed the window, went to the wardrobe to get fresh clothes, and began her bath routine.

But her thoughts were elsewhere. She spent forever picking out just one undergarment, and when she snapped back to reality, she realized—all she had been thinking about was Pei Yuan. Part of it was concern, yes, but more than that, it struck her: there was nothing else in her life now but him.

Everything she did revolved around Pei Yuan.

Bao Ning was suddenly shaken, finding her current state terrifying.

Her emotions were entirely governed by Pei Yuan—she cried because of him, smiled because of him. He was good to her now, and everything felt perfect. But what if, one day, he stopped being good to her? Men… how much could you really rely on them?

She suddenly recalled a story her teacher once told when she was little—about Cao Pi and Zhen Fu from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Zhen Fu was so pitiful—beautiful, gentle, and fragile—but once Cao Pi stopped loving her, her fate turned utterly tragic.

Ah Huang had woken up, kicked its legs, and stood, yawning with its mouth wide open.

Bao Ning’s gaze drifted, finally settling on its little pink tongue. She wondered: Should she find something for herself to do—something she truly liked? That way, even if things between her and Pei Yuan ever fell apart, she could still live happily on her own.

Meanwhile, outside:

Qiu Mingshan looked serious. From his sleeve, he pulled out a small pouch and opened it. Inside was a fine white powder.

He looked at Pei Yuan with a frown. “I suspect that Zhou Jiangcheng’s madness back then was caused by poisoning.”

“This powder was scraped off the tea leaves he often drank. That tea was picked and roasted by Lu Yun herself. So—who exactly is this Lu Yun?”

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