Chapter 20: C20. Starving Yunzhu Seeks Breakfast.

Chapter 20

Yunzhu had meticulously studied the instructional booklet beforehand, fully intent on preparing herself for the experience. Yet, when the moment arrived, reality shattered the calculated calm of the printed words.

Her hand shot to her mouth, a desperate attempt to stifle the traitorous sounds escaping her lips. She couldn't let him see her weakness, not now.

Cao Xun, his expression as still as a pond, watched the spectacle with unsettling indifference.

At first, she'd tried to avoid his gaze, pressing her flushed cheeks against the cool pillow. But her eyes, like moths to a flame, were drawn to his. His gaze, sharp and intense, seemed to bore into her very soul.

A wave of self-loathing washed over her. She looked a mess, a complete and utter disaster. Yet, his unnerving composure, his utter lack of reaction to the chaos around them, sent her heart racing in a way she couldn't quite understand.

Her disbelief was palpable as she glanced at him.

Cao Xun, for his part, remained unbothered, his sharp features composed. His brow arched slightly, his eyes unyielding and detached, yet something in his heavier breaths betrayed that calm. He seemed to be quietly absorbing her every move—or worse, silently appreciating her in a way that felt both thrilling and unnerving.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Yunzhu snapped, her voice betraying an irrational frustration. It was as though they had both been thrown into a storm, and while she was drenched and floundering, he emerged untouched, impervious.

Cao Xun’s brow arched ever so slightly. His voice, calm yet laced with a sharp edge, replied, "You don’t know?"

Her lips parted, a quiet surrender. "...I do."

A faint smile curved his lips, a gesture so subtle it barely registered before his eyes closed, leaving her reeling in the silence.

Though Yunzhu’s mind churned with frustration, she found herself unwilling to release it in a burst of words or anger. Instead, she quietly observed him, this man who now shared the title of her husband.

He stood before her, a masterpiece of male form, a stark contrast to the storm raging within her. His smooth skin, tanned to perfection, seemed to shimmer under the dim light, a siren song to her senses. The way his lean neck curved into broad shoulders, the way his muscles rippled beneath the taut skin—it was all too much. Thirty, she'd thought, was old. But now, as she drank him in, she realized she'd been so very wrong.

With a predatory grace, he leaned in, his hand finding her shoulders, a possessive claim. Her body, traitorous and yearning, mirrored his movements, her arms snaking around his neck. A whimper escaped her lips, a desperate plea for mercy, but her words were lost in the electric tension between them.

"What are you doing?" she managed to croak out, her voice a mere breath.

He didn't answer, his silence a more potent form of torture. His grip tightened, a silent promise of what was to come.

"You—" she began again, but the words died on her lips. The air crackled with unspoken desire, a tempest of lust threatening to consume them both.

*

After Cao Xun was dismissed, Lian Qiao and Shili stationed themselves outside the adjacent room, as instructed. The wait dragged on for an uncomfortable forty-five minutes, until the silence was finally shattered by the sharp chime of bells.

Both maids knew exactly what was expected of them that night. Without hesitation, Shili went to fetch water from the water room, while Lian Qiao, her face flushing with unease, stepped into the inner chamber.

Inside, Shiliu froze in her tracks, startled to see Cao Xun lounging at the table, draped in a red silk coat, casually sipping tea as if nothing had happened.

Cao Xun placed the teacup down with deliberate precision, his gaze shifting toward the bed hidden behind the intricately carved screen. Without a shred of emotion, he ordered, "Go and assist the lady in changing her clothes."

The past fifteen minutes had been tense—Lian Qiao was too furious to even think of seeking help.

Without wasting time, she hurried around the screen, her eyes instantly drawn to her mistress lying sprawled on the bed. Yunzhu looked utterly undone, a red tunic thrown over her haphazardly, the quilt rumpled beneath her, and her trousers—bright red as well—discarded nearby.

Stepping closer, Lian Qiao noticed the sweat glistening on Yunzhu’s brow and the dark circles beneath her eyes, the unmistakable evidence of tears shed not long ago.

Lian Qiao's heart tightened, anger and pity swirling inside her as she recalled the muffled cries and heated voices she'd overheard earlier. While carefully brushing Yunzhu’s messy hair, she leaned in and asked softly, but firmly, "Did the Master hurt you?"

Yunzhu bit her lip, her silence heavier than any words.

It wasn’t exactly hurt, she told herself. It was what was expected between a husband and wife. But she hated Cao Xun’s brute force, his complete disregard for tenderness or patience. If only he’d taken his time, shown some restraint...

He had the nerve to tell her she could stop at any moment if she was unhappy. But would he have stopped? Could she trust his word?

"Help me put on my trousers," Yunzhu finally muttered, her voice thick with exhaustion.

Her frustration simmered beneath the surface as she admitted to herself that her body ached—her waist was sore, her legs too weak to support her. Dressing her upper half wasn’t an issue, but getting into trousers was beyond her strength.

Thankfully, Lian Qiao and Shiliu were familiar with even her most vulnerable moments. There was no room for unnecessary modesty.

To dress her, Lian Qiao first had to pull back the quilt.

Yunzhu turned her face away, unable to meet her maid’s eyes.

Lian Qiao, ever professional, ignored any hint of discomfort. She delicately helped her mistress into the trousers, then assisted her in sitting upright on the bed.

The moment Yunzhu straightened herself, her body tensed, a subtle sign of lingering discomfort.

Lian Qiao, sharp as ever, went to fetch a cup of tea without prompting. Meanwhile, Yunzhu adjusted her position, glancing briefly at the ornate mattress below her.

A moment later, she pulled the quilt tightly around her, shutting the world out once more.

When Lian Qiao returned with the tea, Yunzhu casually reached out, claiming the tea bowl with a steady, deliberate motion. Her sharp eyes flicked to the delicate tapestry screen. Through its intricate patterns, she caught sight of Cao Xun. His posture was flawless—rigid yet composed—with his long hair neatly tied at his crown. Not a strand was out of place, as though every movement, every gesture, was dictated by an unseen choreographer with ruthless precision.

Her gaze dropped to his right hand.

She had clawed at it earlier, leaving faint marks on his skin. A pity, she thought coldly, that he had only grabbed her once and then let go.

Separated by the screen, the newlyweds sat in opposing silence. The tension stretched until the sound of water signaled the bath was ready.

Cao Xun’s stillness was a calculated move, a deliberate surrender. Yunzhu read his concession with a smirk. Humming softly, she rose with Shiliu’s assistance and swept out of the room, never bothering to look back.

Lian Qiao lingered behind, stepping into the inner chamber. She moved toward the cupboard with an air of quiet determination.

Cao Xun’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “What are you looking for?”

Lian Qiao stiffened, her teeth clenching before she bit out her reply. “Madam has ordered the bedding changed.”

The reason was obvious. The oppressive June heat had done its work. Cao Xun, with his tall, commanding frame, had undoubtedly sweated through the brocade mattress, leaving it uncomfortably damp.

Cao Xun said nothing in return.

Fifteen minutes later, Yunzhu emerged from her bath. Her damp hair clung lightly to her shoulders as she entered the room. She didn’t spare Cao Xun even a glance. With an air of cool indifference, she lifted the freshly replaced quilt, slid onto the pristine mattress, and closed her eyes, intent on reclaiming sleep.

It was unclear how much time passed—minutes, hours?—when Yunzhu’s half-dreaming state was interrupted by the sensation of a hand reaching out to her.

Its touch was distinctive: the faint roughness of callused skin, the texture rising subtly along the palm and the side of the index finger, a small peak amidst an otherwise smooth terrain.

The Babu bed offered ample space, and Yunzhu instinctively shifted deeper into its vast expanse, trying to disappear. The hand, relentless and deliberate, wrapped around her, its grip steady. She moved until her back hit the bed frame. Trapped.

Frustration flared. Yunzhu clawed at his hand, her nails digging into the flesh. “Let me sleep!” she snapped, her voice biting.

Cao Xun’s reply came in a maddeningly soft, composed tone. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep later.”

Sleep was impossible now. Yunzhu muttered, more to herself than him, “You promised. I don’t want it if I don’t like it.”

In response, Cao Xun pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck, his voice laced with quiet finality. “I was speaking of our first night together. That can’t be undone or redone.”

Yunzhu hesitated, caught between resistance and submission, her movements half-hearted.

The bed was heavy with the faint aroma of lingering perfumes, a delicate, intoxicating scent that mingled with her growing unease. Suspicion bloomed in her chest. “How did you know to do that? Was there someone—did you learn this while you were stationed at the border?”

Her voice carried an edge, probing, accusing. “It’s not in the manual.”

------

[  ] The term "通房" referred to a type of maid who would serve the master of the house in both sexual and domestic capacities.

------

Cao Xun responded firmly, "I may not have experienced married life firsthand, but during my younger days, I immersed myself in countless books on the subject and beyond. I know more than enough."

Whether oil was used or not wouldn't make the slightest difference to him—it was irrelevant. But he couldn't help but dread the thought of how much agony she might endure.

Yunzhu, caught off guard by his abrupt declaration, found herself momentarily distracted.

What had Cao Xun been like as a teenager or in his early twenties? She couldn't help but wonder.

If he were in his early twenties now, everything about her marriage would have been perfect—flawless, even. There would be no hesitation, no doubts, no regrets.

But she didn’t allow herself to linger on such useless thoughts. With a firm shake of her head, she reminded herself of the present. Her current circumstances left no room for indulgence or idle reflection.

The warm yellow glow of the candlelight bathed her figure, soft and mesmerizing, but the longer she sat there, the more unbearable it became.

His towering, striking presence set him apart from everyone else in the room. He had an undeniable allure, a magnetism that was hard to ignore. But perfection? No one could be perfect, and he was no exception.

“Uncomfortable,” she muttered curtly, the word escaping her lips like a reluctant admission of defeat.

A girl raised in comfort and luxury wouldn’t simply cast aside her own needs to accommodate her husband’s whims. That was never going to happen.

Cao Xun’s sharp eyes noticed the faint crease in her brow, the subtle tremble in her expression. Vulnerability. She was young, inexperienced, and clearly struggling to adjust. But he understood that this was her battle to face. Change didn’t come easily to anyone.

*

On a warm midsummer morning, after a peaceful night's rest, many take the opportunity to rejuvenate themselves with a bath or a refreshing cleanse to start their day.

Yunzhu indulged in the cedar wood bathtub for a full fifteen minutes, allowing the lingering exhaustion from last night's intense passion to fade away.

Cao Xun, having risen thirty minutes earlier, spent the time pacing around the front yard. The sound of movement from the backyard made him assume Yunzhu had finally woken up, so he headed back inside.

“Master, please wait just a moment; Madam is still bathing,” one of the maids informed him as he sat contentedly sipping tea in the main room.

When Yunzhu eventually appeared, she noticed Cao Xun had changed into an elaborate robe with a deep red background and intricate floral patterns. His hair was neatly tied with a golden crown and hairpin, giving him an air of calm elegance and gentle authority.

But the mere sight of him triggered vivid memories of their raw intimacy the night before—scenes far removed from anything elegant—which left Yunzhu flustered and uneasy as their eyes briefly met.

Cao Xun, already attuned to her every move, had casually glanced over as the maids adjusted the curtains in the room.

After her bath, Yunzhu wore a red silk tunic. Her dark, slightly damp hair flowed over her shoulders, framing a complexion that glowed with a soft, fair radiance. Only her cheeks betrayed a faint blush—whether from the lingering steam or her inner turmoil was anyone’s guess.

“Where were you just now?” she asked, her tone steady and sharp, her gaze locked on him as she paused, tilting her head slightly to meet his eyes.

A faint breeze swept in through the doorway, brushing past Yunzhu, who still carried the subtle, alluring fragrance from her bath—a sweetness tinged with the remnants of last night’s passion.

“I spent some time practicing swordsmanship in the front yard,” he replied smoothly, “and then checked on the arrangements in the main hall. That’s why I was delayed.” There was a tea ceremony planned there later.

Yunzhu’s expression flickered momentarily before she turned away, heading toward the inner room to prepare.

After about fifteen minutes, the maids, Lian Qiao and Shiliu, stepped out from behind the curtain and bowed respectfully toward Cao Xun, who was seated calmly in the main room.

“Master, Madam invites you to come in for a conversation,” they announced with practiced courtesy.

Cao Xun gave a small smile, stood gracefully, and strode toward the inner room.

Yunzhu sat before the mirror at her dressing table, her reflection holding her attention. Catching a glimpse of Cao Xun from the corner of her eye, she rose with deliberate grace, perched on the edge of the bed, and asked with cool precision, "How well are you getting along with Madam Pan?"

Cao Xun joined her, taking a seat beside her with an easy smile. "Well enough, I suppose," he replied, his tone dismissive.

Unimpressed, Yunzhu pressed further. "Define 'well enough.' I've heard rumors. Word has it that upon your return to the capital, you dismissed the manager she handpicked."

Cao Xun's smile didn't waver as he defended himself. "That steward was lining his own pockets with estate funds. I had no choice but to remove him. If he'd been loyal and refrained from betraying Madam Pan's trust, there would have been no reason for me to act."

He stopped there, unwilling to elaborate, and Yunzhu did not push further. Instead, she tilted her chin slightly, her voice sharp and resolute. "Fine. Whatever your rapport with her may be, understand this: there is no possibility of her and me playing the roles of a devoted mother-in-law and obedient daughter-in-law. You know full well the grievances between us."

Cao Xun nodded, his expression unwavering. "She provoked you first. Your resentment is valid."

Yunzhu's gaze hardened. "So, tell me this: would you stand by her side if I chose to humiliate her publicly?"

Cao Xun met her piercing gaze with a calm warning. "Bear in mind, she is the birth mother of the Empress. Be mindful of your moves."

Satisfied with his response, Yunzhu let a faint smile cross her lips. "Relax. I'm not foolish enough to misstep."

Once prepared, the two of them left together for the main hall.

*

Inside, Pan Shi and Cao Shao had already taken their places. Unlike the lively, guest-filled celebration of the day before, today's bride-serving-tea ceremony was a quiet, private affair reserved for immediate family.

Without outsiders to restrain her, Pan Shi couldn't conceal her true emotions. Her eyes often wandered to the two memorial tablets opposite the main throne, a shadow of sadness flickering across her face.

If her husband were still alive, he would have had the authority to shield her from this ceremonial submission to the Du family. She would have been seated beside him, receiving the bows of the newlywed couple as his equal.

But fate had rendered her a widow, and now it was Cao Xun who held all the power.

Pan Shi’s thoughts drifted, her gaze falling on her son, seated nearby. Sensing his discomfort, she smiled and asked her maid with deliberate calm, "What time is it?"

The maid, understanding her meaning, replied tactfully, "Considering the Duke's recent marriage, it's only natural for them to be running a little late."

Pan Shi turned back to her son, catching the slight tension in his fingers as they tightened against his knee. Though he had refused to fully embrace the match she arranged, Pan Shi could see that her son was not oblivious. He understood the stakes perfectly.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps outside.

Adjusting her stance with deliberate precision, Pan Shi squared her shoulders, projecting authority, while Cao Shao, seemingly eager to mask his vulnerability, stood abruptly, forcing a smile that betrayed his inner turmoil.

Then his eyes locked onto Yunzhu, who walked in with her brother, and his composure faltered.

Now a married woman, her hair, once a cascade of silky strands, was swept elegantly into a captivating bun, gleaming with golden hairpins. No longer shielded by her hair, her smooth, luminous forehead was exposed, accentuating her beauty beyond anything Cao Shao had remembered.

The woman who had haunted his thoughts was now mere steps away. Overwhelmed by her presence, his mind went blank, his gaze fixed on her with raw longing.

Yunzhu, sensing his unrelenting affection, felt a surge of pride. Yet, despite his sincerity, she harbored no desire to confront him as if nothing had happened. This was the man who had failed her and brought shame upon her family.

Cao Shao's earlier apology had laid bare his guilt, but the damage was done. A weaker woman might have crumbled under such betrayal, but Yunzhu had endured. Even so, the scars remained. Forgiveness, if it ever came, would not come easily.

Instinctively, Yunzhu moved closer to Cao Xun, seeking his presence for solace.

Cao Xun's steady, unyielding glance in Cao Shao's direction served as an unspoken reprimand, cutting through the younger man's fragile confidence. Cao Shao averted his eyes, silently berating himself for his failures, bitterness entwined with shame.

Pan Shi, keen to see her son relinquish his hopeless pursuit, was nonetheless disconcerted by the silent humiliation he endured. She forced a smile and turned to Yunzhu, her voice laced with a subtle edge.

"Child, I remember when you had the luxury of leisure in your family home. But as a wife, your foremost duty is to your husband. Fushan must come first."

Yunzhu’s faint smile carried an undercurrent of defiance. "Madam, are you implying we were late?"

Before Pan Shi could respond, Cao Xun spoke, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. "The timing is impeccable. Perhaps Mother is simply eager for Yunzhu to serve her tea as tradition demands."

Pan Shi, sensing the shift, quickly softened her tone. "Very well, child, let's not delay. Serve the tea."

Kneeling gracefully beside Cao Xun, Yunzhu followed him as they paid respects to the ancestral tablets of his father and mother. Every move was deliberate, an embodiment of her poise and resilience.

As Yunzhu prepared to move toward Pan Shi, her steps faltered. Without warning, her body swayed, and she crumpled gently to one side.

Cao Shao reacted instinctively, stepping forward in alarm.

But Cao Xun was faster, catching Yunzhu firmly in his arms, his protective hold a silent declaration. For Cao Shao, the moment was a brutal reminder of what he had lost—a reality that burned deeper than any words could convey.

Yunzhu leaned into his solid and unyielding chest, her long lashes trembling as she lowered her gaze, her voice trembling with sorrow. "I just got married, and already my husband is treating me so cruelly. My heart aches so much I can’t even stay on my feet."

Pan shi, ready to feign concern, inwardly scoffed at the display.

What a pitiful little show. Clearly, she was looking for an excuse to dodge the tea ceremony.

Pan shi’s eyes locked with Cao Xun’s, her expression sharp and unyielding. For such a significant occasion as serving tea, she refused to believe that Cao Xun would be blind to Yunzhu’s flimsy act.

Cao Xun, however, gripped Yunzhu’s slender shoulder with one hand and encircled her delicate wrist with the other. After a deliberate pause, he smiled faintly, a calmness that carried the edge of steel. "Your pulse is weak. I’d say you’ve hardly eaten since yesterday, too busy with the wedding fuss. You’re just hungry."

Yunzhu glared at him in sharp silence.

Ignoring her gaze, Cao Xun kept her securely in his arms and turned to Pan shi. His voice was measured but resolute. "Mother, Yunzhu is so starved she can barely hold herself up. Let’s skip the tea ceremony."

Pan shi’s lips pressed into a firm line, saying nothing.

From the shadows, Zhang Tai, Cao Xun’s chief steward, had been quietly observing the charged scene. The moment he heard this, he wasted no time. He gestured to the servants, who quickly began to remove the memorial tablets, brocade mats, and other ceremonial items from the floor.

The meaning was clear—whether or not the young lady recovered her strength later, the tea ceremony was off the table. Pan shi, the stepmother, would not be served.

———TN:

Nice move, Yunzhu!