Chapter 34: C34. "As Soon As I Sober up, I Will Apologize."

Chapter 34

In the lavish residence of the Marquis of Huai'an, Liu Jing, with a sultry grace, wrung the towel, her movements deliberate as she approached the bed to assist her husband.

Zhang Xingjian, his gaze soft yet firm, caught her wrist, his voice deep and insistent. "You’re carrying our child, my love. Don’t wear yourself out. I can manage alone."

But Liu Jing, with a bold tilt of her head, replied, her tone unyielding, "I’m only five months along. I’m not fragile. I’ve given birth before. Why can’t you understand that?"

With a quiet sigh, Zhang Xingjian, though reluctant, complied, peeling off his clothes to allow her to care for him. Despite the absence of alcohol that night, a faint trace of it lingered on his skin, a reminder of indulgent moments past. It was as though time had momentarily folded back to an era where he could indulge freely, without restraint.

Her gaze lowered, Liu Jing’s fingers grazed over his lithe form, each touch tender yet filled with a quiet intensity. The emotions stirred within her like waves crashing against the shore. She remembered the young man who had galloped past her house, full of promise, and the flush of his face as he drunkenly apologized to her on their wedding night. She remembered a winter’s day when he had carried her, protecting her from the bitter cold as his footprints marked the untouched snow. Those moments were forever etched in her heart—bittersweet memories that flowed like water, passing with the seasons.

Lying against his back, Liu Jing gently dabbed at the tears that had blurred her vision, the towel absorbing her sorrow as her heart swelled with a mix of love and longing.

Zhang Xingjian, ever aware of his wife’s moods, gently shifted the conversation, his voice a soothing cadence. "What did you think of Cao Xun's wife at the banquet?"

Though their daughter was of similar age, Zhang Xingjian didn’t know much about Cao Xun’s new wife. Despite his good brother’s recent marriage, their family wasn’t particularly social, and he wanted nothing more than for his brother to find happiness in his union.

Liu Jing, her lips curling into a knowing smile, responded smoothly, "She still carries the temperament of a young lady. I wonder if the Duke has the patience to handle her."

Marriage, after all, was a passage—a threshold. Some women, once they stepped into it, shed their old selves, adopting the reserved poise of their elders. She, like Zhao shi, had once done the same. Yet, Liu Jing saw something different in Yunzhu—there was fire in her eyes, a glimmer of youth and vitality, untainted by the weight of marriage. She resembled a peony in full bloom, fresh and untamed.

A devoted wife may care for her husband with unwavering tenderness, but a young lady, full of delicate charms, demands more attention, more devotion. And Liu Jing knew that well.

Zhang Xingjian was no stranger to Cao Xun and, with a sly grin, casually responded to his wife, “He’s married, sweetheart. Of course, he’ll be doing everything he can to keep her happy.”

Liu Jing, trying to make sense of the conversation, chimed in, “Yes, he does seem like such a gentle man at first glance.”

Zhang Xingjian’s shoulders twitched twice, and he couldn’t hold back his amusement. Liu Jing, puzzled, turned her gaze forward and noticed her husband holding his fist to his lips, clearly stifling a laugh.

A flash of irritation crossed Liu Jing’s face, and she demanded, “What’s so funny? Did I say something wrong?”

Zhang Xingjian, still holding back his grin, answered with a hint of playfulness, “You should’ve seen Fushan when he was younger. Gentle? Hardly. Sure, as his rank has climbed, he’s learned to hide his true nature. But mark my words, you won’t find many seasoned officials willing to show their true colors. They’re masters of presenting a calm, collected facade, especially when facing political rivals.”

Liu Jing was clearly confused. “But you just said that the Duke is willing to placate Yunzhu, and now you’re saying he’s not gentle. Isn’t that contradictory?”

Zhang Xingjian leaned in, his voice lowering with a teasing edge, “What I’m saying is, if he’s in love with his younger wife, of course he’ll keep her happy. That’s not the same as being gentle, darling.”

Liu Jing smirked, “If I were a man, I’d cherish Yunzhu too.”

Zhang Xingjian gave a knowing smile. “You’ve got it all wrong. Fushan’s not the type to be swayed by material things. Even in the harsh conditions at the border, men are always finding beautiful women trying to use their charms to win his favor. But Fushan sees right through them, tossing aside their flattery and offers without a second thought.”

Liu Jing paused, her mind racing as she finally grasped the meaning behind his words. With a sharp, confident tone, she said, “I get it now. The Duke married Yunzhu out of loyalty. A man who values trust and honor will always honor his promises. He’ll treat Yunzhu with respect.”

Zhang Xingjian couldn’t help but be charmed by her quick understanding. He pulled her close, cupping her face gently, and kissed her with growing intensity. “You’re adorable, you know that? The promise between Cao Shao and Li Yunzhu has nothing to do with Fushan. They’re not blood brothers. Fushan’s too clever to let something like that cause him any grief. If he married his younger brother’s ex-fiancée, it’s because she’s what he wants—she’s the one who’s won his heart.”

Loyalty? That’s just a convenient cover.

Liu Jing leaned back, lost in thought as she pictured the pair of them—Cao Xun and Yunzhu—standing together. “Well, if that’s the case, then it’s even better. It would be the perfect kind of marriage, where both parties love and desire each other.”

She reached for her husband, wrapping her arms around him, planting a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Just like you and me.”

Her love for him was clear, and in that moment, she knew—if fate allowed, she would give him everything.

*

In the plush, dim-lit quarters of Dingguo Mansion, Cao Xun, having indulged a bit too freely in alcohol, found himself stuffed and bloated. The wine took its toll, forcing him to stumble to the bathroom multiple times, once in the dead of night and again before the first light of dawn broke.

By morning, the fog of drunkenness had lifted, and he found himself staring at the shadows of the room, his mind replaying the lavish banquet from the night before.

Xing Jian had been over the moon about the idea of more children, though a flicker of guilt crossed his mind—he and Qinghe had their hands full with the two they already had. The future would demand more effort, more responsibility.

But for Cao Xun, regret lingered in the air, the memory of his sharp words toward a young lady still fresh. His conscience wasn’t exactly at ease.

After a quick refresh, he donned his usual attire and stepped out into the chilling autumn air. It was still dark, the kind of dark that felt like the world was holding its breath.

There was a small door that connected the front and back yards, left ajar during the day for easy passage, but locked up tight at night to keep unwanted guests away. But tonight, it was locked, and Cao Xun was determined not to make a racket. If he didn’t get inside now, he’d have to wait until morning to see her again, and given her temper, the wait might be more of a hassle than it was worth.

He wasn’t one for waiting, though. Skilled in stealth and agility, he used his tall frame to easily scale the wall, slipping over silently, like a shadow in the night. The main door was locked, but a window—just slightly ajar—offered an opportunity. He climbed through with ease.

Inside, the house was silent except for the rhythmic breathing of Yunzhu, who was still lost in her dreams. But the moment Cao Xun’s heavy arm brushed against her and his lips pressed a few soft, lingering kisses to her neck, she stirred, confusion clouding her features. For a split second, she had no idea what was happening, until it clicked: he’d stayed out in the front courtyard.

Still half asleep, she stiffened as his presence began to seep into her senses. "It’s me," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

She let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes as she pulled her arm away from his grasp. "Weren’t you in the front courtyard? Why the hell are you here?"

The alcohol on his breath made her stomach turn. His presence felt unwelcome, the air thick with tension. She had hoped he’d stay in the front, but of course, he couldn’t resist.

She knew exactly why he was here—he was angry. And what gave him the audacity to be so rude to her, barging in like he owned her? She wasn’t going to let him have his way.

With a sharp gesture, Yunzhu pointed to the door. "Go back to where you came from. I’m not sleeping with you right now."

Cao Xun, ever the stubborn man, wasn’t going anywhere. He blocked her retreat with his strong body, knowing full well the kind of argument that would erupt if they went at it during the day, in front of the maids. His hands moved toward her, an attempt to calm the storm.

But Yunzhu wasn’t having it. She slapped his hand away, her palm connecting with a sharp crack. His hands were long, strong—calloused from battle, the kind of hands that wielded swords with precision and strength.

Her slap didn’t faze him much, but Yunzhu's hand burned from the contact, the sting searing through her. She gritted her teeth, refusing to let it show as she snapped, "Don’t touch me."

Cao Xun smirked, knowing exactly what had happened. "Did that hurt?"

Her response was biting: "None of your business. Now leave."

Cao Xun’s voice was low and steady, almost too calm as he said, "Xing Jian might not make it to his next birthday."

Yunzhu froze, her breath catching, a ripple of unease running through her as she watched Cao Xun’s expression shift into something quieter, more regretful. Her mind immediately flickered to Zhang Xingjian—always delicate, always so gentle. "But didn’t you say he had at least three or four more years?" she questioned, trying to steady her pulse.

Cao Xun's response was sharp, like a blade. "Those were just comforting words. The truth is, one year is the most we can hope for."

Yunzhu let out a soft sigh, a mix of resignation and concern. "I get it now. He's in a bad way. But what’s wrong with me feeling sorry for Sister Liu? Why are you lashing out at me?"

Cao Xun’s gaze softened with an apology, his voice a little lower. "You're right. I was out of line. I’d had too much to drink, and I’ll own it. I came to apologize the moment I sobered up."

A small, mocking smile played on Yunzhu’s lips. "Oh, so drinking gives you a free pass to lose your temper? Should I get drunk, yell at you for no reason, and then expect an apology when I wake up? Is that how it works?"

Cao Xun let out a quiet chuckle, a slight edge to his tone. "Drinking’s never good for you. If I screw up, you can yell all you want. Just don’t go hurting yourself just to get even with me. It’s not worth it."

Yunzhu stayed silent for a moment, the air heavy between them.

Cao Xun shifted slightly, his voice softening again. "I didn’t even remember my father-in-law’s birthday. He didn’t invite me when he celebrated it, and frankly, we don’t really see eye to eye. We’re ten years apart. We don’t hang out much."

Yunzhu’s eyes softened, a fleeting empathy crossing her face. "Well, my father’s birthday is in March. It’s coming up soon. At his age, he doesn’t care for any big fuss. Just a small family gathering."

Cao Xun’s tone shifted to one of quiet insistence. "Even if he doesn’t want to celebrate, we should still get him a gift. Every year. It’s the right thing to do."

Yunzhu didn’t reply, her mind elsewhere. She then turned to him, curiosity piquing her. "Is the gift you gave Mr. Zhang something special? Can I see it?"

A pause hung between them, a tension that seemed to tighten the space. Finally, Cao Xun spoke, his voice soft yet carrying an almost playful undertone. "Qinghe was always a troublemaker when he was nine. One time, he was punished to kneel in the ancestral hall by Mr. Gu. Xing Jian, hearing about it, snuck in with a roast chicken to cheer him up. That’s what the painting is about. I won’t show it to you, though. It might ruin the image you have of them."

Yunzhu’s eyes widened in surprise, the image of the elegant Gu Qinghe on his knees in an ancestral hall, and the frail Zhang Xingjian sneaking in with a roast chicken, tickling her in ways she couldn’t fully explain.

She leaned back, amusement flickering in her eyes. "What kind of birthday gift is that?"

Cao Xun’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "If it makes him smile when he sees it, then it’s the perfect gift."

Yunzhu let out a frustrated sigh, then flopped back onto the bed, her body sinking into the cool sheets. She closed her eyes, clearly irritated.

Cao Xun slid closer, his presence undeniable.

She pushed him away with a sharp, almost lazy motion, her voice dripping with a mix of challenge and bitterness, "If you’d rather sleep outside, in the front courtyard, then why bother crawling back into my bed again? You don’t have to pretend to want me."

Cao Xun didn’t flinch. He lowered his voice, keeping it steady despite the tension, "Do you really think I wanted to come over last night? You barely let me out of the carriage before you shut me out. I could feel the chill in the air, the cold shoulder you gave me. I was drunk, and I didn’t want to make things worse, so I figured I’d let you sleep, let you cool off, and then apologize when you woke up."

Yunzhu scoffed, her eyes flickering with irritation, "You’re really good with words, aren’t you? From where I stand, you were just pissed I didn’t make you part of my little drama. You used that to get your own back, throwing a tantrum in your own way."

Cao Xun reached for her hand, his fingers warm and insistent, "I know you wanted space, a night of peace and quiet. You thought that by shutting me out, you were teaching me a lesson, showing me you disapproved. You do this to everyone, so you assumed I’d do the same to you."

Yunzhu’s lips tightened, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh, admitting that he was right—Cao Xun had never let her down. She had been intentionally distant, punishing him without saying a word.

"Fine," she muttered with a sigh, her voice laced with resignation, "I’ll go back to sleep. You want to sleep, or not? Just don’t disturb me."

Cao Xun, his expression unreadable, let go of her hand, slipping away quietly.

Yunzhu’s breath evened out as sleep took her again, the storm of emotions settling into calm.

Cao Xun, standing by the window, watched the first light of dawn stretch across the sky. August 14th. The day he was supposed to take her home.