After Qin Xiandu left, Mu Daoying took her hand again and urged her back to the room. “Come on. There will be another chance to meet next time. If you miss him, I will go with you to Jade Capital.”
Liu Qiao’e frowned. “Why would I miss him?”
Mu Daoying pushed open the door and fetched water for her to wash up.
Liu Qiao’e set aside her questions for the moment and first washed away the smell of alcohol on her body.
After Mu Daoying finished washing up, he came out to see her drying her hair, so he beckoned to her and took the towel into his own hands.
He half-held her as he dried her hair for her.
With Qin Xiandu gone, Liu Qiao’e remembered the matter concerning Meng Ci and was just about to speak.
Unexpectedly, Mu Daoying’s clear and smooth voice sounded from above her head.
“That day, you asked if I minded.”
“Now I can answer you.”
The youth dried her hair thoroughly, then simply picked her up entirely and carried her onto the bed, lying down beside her.
“I mind. How could I not mind?” Mu Daoying said word by word, his voice soft.
Liu Qiao’e’s heart skipped a beat. “Mu Daoying—”
But Mu Daoying did not look at her, nor did he want her to see his current petty appearance.
He stared fixedly at the bed curtains.
“My rightful wife goes every year to offer food and sweep the tomb for another man. If I could truly treat it indifferently, then I would not be a man.”
“Fellow Daoist Meng is a good man. I feel inferior to him. Everyone flatters me as a gentleman of the sword.” Mu Daoying said faintly. “But that is merely because I am ignorant of the world, unaware of human suffering, pretty only because I was raised amid flowers and brocade.”
“He is the true gentleman.
“He saved your life from fire and water, traveled step by step over a thousand miles, saved countless mortals, and proved his own Dao heart.
“I am not his equal. Ying should not be jealous.”
“That man has already passed away. If I still picked at a dead man with jealousy, I would truly not be human.” Mu Daoying finally could not help but bare his true heart.
Where did he have any reason to be jealous? Yet every word and sentence from him nearly overflowed with sourness that he could not conceal.
Meng Ci had died by his hand, after all… At this thought, Mu Daoying closed his eyes. The emotions he had suppressed for many years poured out all at once, and his heart felt like a overturned jar of seasonings—sour and bitter, bitterness hard to express. He could not help but grow dazed.
“Ning Xia—” Liu Qiao’e’s voice rang out as she patted his cheek. “That is not what I think.”
“You…” She was not good at pretty words and only said clumsily, “You are very good. You are a true gentleman.”
Mu Daoying’s heart stirred. He could not help but open his eyes, grasp her hand, and slide it up to her face.
Liu Qiao’e hesitated for a moment, then obediently pressed her cheek into his palm.
She was usually full of thorns, but now she seemed like a little dog.
Mu Daoying’s heart instantly melted into a puddle of water. He cradled her face and said in a low voice, “Men are not saints. I only want to be the only one in your eyes.”
He stroked her lips. His fingertip was warm. Liu Qiao’e blinked and was just about to speak.
But Mu Daoying suddenly pushed her away gently, self-abandoning as he said bitterly, “Am I not very despicable?”
“Compared to Brother Meng, I have the long years of companionship ahead with you, yet I am still greedy for those three days in the year.
To be so dissatisfied—would that not make you detest me again?
Liu Qiao’e was stunned. She finally understood why Mu Daoying appeared so magnanimous and open in his actions, yet was always so awkward and petty in the details.
Jealous of her? Liu Qiao’e scratched her head. Had he misunderstood something?
The way he spoke, with that lost and pitiful expression, not only did she not feel disgusted—instead, her heart softened endlessly, and she found him pitiable and adorable.
Moreover, his jealousy satisfied some vague vanity in her heart, making her feel quite pleased.
This man loves me so deeply.
“So, your magnanimity was all an act?” After thinking it over, she suddenly realized. “You were unhappy when Qin Xiandu came today, weren’t you?”
Mu Daoying paused, struggled for a good while, but the upright and simple Gentleman Mu still decided to confess honestly. “If not for that… how would you pity me so today?”
To be so frank and open was not easy. He looked uncomfortable.
Seeing his embarrassment, Liu Qiao’e could not help but raise the corners of her lips and smile smugly.
Mu Daoying glanced at her, then suddenly flipped over on top of her.
The jade pendant at his waist jingled.
“Ah! You’re shy, aren’t you! Sorry, let me look!”
His silent dominance startled her greatly. Her face flushed and her heart raced as she instinctively dodged and struggled.
She dodged him and tried to wriggle out of his embrace, but her soft limbs could not support her body. “Wait—don’t move around!”
The space between the bed curtains was too small. She was easily caught up by Mu Daoying. He chased her down, dragged her back beneath him, and pinned her arms.
She let out a whimper, her eyes growing watery.
He had not even done anything yet… Mu Daoying felt a little helpless, but more so aroused. Who told him he was weak to his wife’s charms like this? A current shot through his lower body, and he honestly stirred with amorous thoughts at her appearance.
Liu Qiao’e could not help but cry out in surprise at the heavy heat pressing against her leg. It was too exaggerated, too frightening. “Pervy bastard.”
The longer they were together, the more shameless and brazen he became, increasingly lewd. It could not be that she, the Palace Lord of Joyous Union Palace, had led him astray, could it?
Her mind wandered to the heavens, and he was dissatisfied with her distraction. He could not help but bury his head and bite her shoulder lightly, venting his frustration. “Lady E…” He sighed shortly.
She was so tantalizing, so easily disrupting his heart.
Come to think of it, it had been a very, very long time since they had been intimate.
That helpless, long sigh of his sank into her heart. Her heart itched, and she could not help but swallow. “I… I don’t think you’re despicable. I’m actually quite happy…”
With such beauty before her, a handsome man delivered to her door, and them being a legitimate married couple, how could she not devour him?
When his solid, warm male body pressed down, Liu Qiao’e’s heart could not help but thump wildly, her limbs going half-soft.
She could not help but tug at his collar, peeling it away like a tender bamboo shoot, and bit his fair chest. “This is punishment for your jealousy!”
Mu Daoying drew in a sharp breath, pried open her lips, and stroked her fine white teeth. “Lady E, don’t bite.”
Her chin rested in his palm, her lips held by him, so her words came out muffled. “Mu Daoying, next year either I stay home with you, or you come with me.”
Mu Daoying heard her muffled words, but his heart pounded.
In these six years, he had held back from touching her out of concern that she had only just revived.
Hearing her murmur such pitiable words now softened his heart even more while making it ache harder.
After she finished speaking, she grew a little nervous before he could reply.
…Had she said the wrong thing? It was best not to mention Meng Ci at a time like this?
Her lips were forced open, and feeling uneasy, she was just about to say something else.
But Mu Daoying suddenly leaned down and took her tongue into his mouth.
Her parted lips were perfectly at his mercy.
He did not know how long they kissed, but she was nearly out of breath when Mu Daoying sighed as if he had made some great concession.
He temporarily held back the surging tide of passion and withdrew to look at her.
The youth could not help but smile bitterly, fine beads of sweat already glistening on his forehead.
“I know your feelings.”
As their eyes met, tender emotions surged.
He had meant to talk properly, but her gaze was rippling.
Mu Daoying finally could not hold back his inner urges. He lowered his head once more to kiss her lips. “My feelings are the same as yours. My answer is, either is fine. No matter where you go or how long, as long as you remember I am waiting for you at home, Ying will be content… Open your mouth, good… Stick your tongue out a little more…”
As he spoke, he lost the will to continue. His mind reeled, his voice grew wet and soft, and trailed off into mumbles.
They had only kissed a little when, as he held her small tongue in rapture, Liu Qiao’e said, “It tastes like something.”
Mu Daoying froze, his whole body stiffening.
Taste? What taste? Cultivators shed hair and washed marrow, their bodies pure and fragrant without dust or odor. He rinsed his mouth every day and chewed fragrant herbs—how could there be a taste?
Seeing his existential doubt, as if facing a great enemy on the verge of collapse, Liu Qiao’e finally burst out laughing. “Vinegar.”
Mu Daoying’s cheeks flushed red. He could not help but take her tongue again and nibble lightly at the tip. “Nonsense.”
The two fooled around on the bed, their collars disheveled and hairpins loosened.
His tall and broad body pressed down—fiery, young, poised to erupt after long suppression. Every pulse in his veins spoke of his desire for her.
She was boneless and limp, dizzy and dazed, melting into a pool of spring water. She did not dare open her eyes to look at him.
She only felt that his body was so hot, everything so hot. His young muscles bulged; everything throbbed and surged.
He only felt her body so soft. Every place his fingertips brushed sent his soul flying and bones melting, turning him into a lecher.
Mu Daoying had no choice but to soften his voice and coax her gently. “Good girl, Lady E, spread a little more. Shall I do it, or you?”
He knew she liked this—gentle commands, mild dominance.
Her arms wrapped around his bare, upright back. Like a fish, that smooth, fragrant touch made her blush.
He seized the chance, growing bold, and deftly parted the willows to enter.
It had been too long.
She struggled to take it, whimpering complaints and crying that he was born this way, and in these six years had not relieved himself, making her suffer.
He was terrified, cold sweat dripping, ashamed beyond measure—yet he could not suppress the dark desire in his heart to possess her completely, to fill her entirely. Helpless, he coaxed, inching himself in bit by bit, comforting her with soft words. “You’re doing well, good girl…” Before he finished, he himself frowned tightly and panted in agony.
Both suffered hardship and pain. It was only with great difficulty that they succeeded, both drenched in sweat.
Mu Daoying panted for several breaths and rested a while before propping himself up to kiss her again.
“Lady E… Lady E…”
She pecked lightly at the corner of his mouth in response.
Both their hearts swelled full.
Spring rain began to patter down again, drumming on the banana leaves with a fine, rustling whisper, like the loving murmurs of the couple in the room.
“Go gently.”
“Don’t move.”
High and low, high times were cries and screams, interspersed with his soft coaxing during the lows.
Indistinct, no longer clear.
The next day, Mu Daoying washed up neatly, cooked breakfast, changed into a set of green robes, carried a bowl of water, and went into the bed curtains to wake Liu Qiao’e.
The clean, clear water reflected his clean, clear eyes. His figure was fresh as spring willows, full of vigor.
Liu Qiao’e had just raised her hand to take the water when her arm went weak and nearly spilled half.
Mu Daoying quickly and steadily caught it, solicitously saying, “Does your throat still hurt? Shall I feed you?”
Liu Qiao’e ground her teeth and glared viciously at him.
Who was the culprit? Now that it was day and he was dressed impeccably, he pretended to be a good person here?
This man had been somewhat gentle at first last night, but later he simply feigned deafness, ignoring her cries no matter how she begged, as if he heard nothing.
She vented her anger by draining the bowl in one go.
Mu Daoying curved his lips slightly, reached out with a finger to gently wipe the water from the corner of her mouth. His voice was soft enough to drip water. “Wait for me to come home.”
After opening up yesterday, he had not held back much, waves rising in his sea of jealousy, acting more wantonly. Today, he was sated.
After Mu Daoying left, Liu Qiao’e lay on the bed, unwilling to get up.
She was very tired, her whole body tired.
Her revived body was still tender and sensitive; her new flesh and bones were tender and sensitive. Yet this scoundrel had shown no pity for the fairer sex. Though he had cleaned her thoroughly last night, she still felt that lingering flow within her, sending shivers down her spine.
Liu Qiao’e turned her gaze and idly stared at the empty bowl on the bedside table.
The longer she looked, the redder her face grew. She could not help but sit up and flip the empty bowl over.
Bastard. She spat lightly.
The spring sun blazed in the sky, flowers flying in the vast expanse.
The regrets and wishes of her youth, after a thousand hardships, were finally fulfilled one by one.
Who could have thought that the aloof youth from that fateful bowl of water back in the day, once so lofty and unattainable, cold as a snowdrift, had become that detestable, reckless and frivolous young lord from just yesterday, living such a shameless and unbridled life?