Qian Jiaoniang was tempted. She’d heard Qingya and Xing Muzheng talk about polo before and had long wanted to see it—but she didn’t want to go with him.
Xing Muzheng realized he’d phrased it wrong, and added: “Shall we take Chou’er? If you go, bring him along. If you don’t, I won’t bother taking him.”
“…Fine. I don’t want to listen to him whine. I’ll take him.” She spoke reluctantly, but even as the words left her mouth, she felt it sounded too much like she was covering something up. Feeling awkward, she went to the small stove, lifted the little copper kettle, and poured herself a cup of water.
Xing Muzheng suppressed a smile, slipped off the couch to put on his shoes, and said with a straight face: “Good. We’ll set out at chen hour tomorrow. Brother Hong is inviting me for drinks tonight—just rough men—so I won’t have you come.”
Qian Jiaoniang either didn’t hear or ignored him, busy drinking her water. But when she added a piece of fresh charcoal, the fire flared, the water overheated, and she scalded her tongue on a sip. She gave a muffled groan, spilling water onto the floor.
Xing Muzheng was at her side in a stride. “Burned yourself?”
Head lowered, she covered her mouth and waved him off. But he anxiously tipped her chin up, revealing tear-bright eyes and tightly furrowed brows—she looked quite pitiful.
“Let me see.” He pressed just enough to make her open her mouth. The tongue—redder than usual—was tucked softly behind her teeth. Without thinking, he cupped her face, bent down, and peered closely.
Forced to tilt her head back and open her mouth, she was stiff as a board. The burn still throbbed, and she wanted to move her tongue for relief but didn’t dare.
Suddenly, a cool breeze touched her tongue. Her heart gave a shiver—Xing Muzheng was blowing gently into her mouth.
This was going too far. She pushed at him, but he stood like a mountain, unmoved, long used to her strength. After a while, he pulled back just enough, his handsome face nearly brushing hers.
“No blister,” he said.
“…Thank you.” Under another’s roof, she could only choke out a grudging thanks. She clamped her jaw shut—but her teeth met resistance. His thumb was there, faster than she could close.
Eyes widening, she met his deepening black gaze. That dangerous glint—she’d been seeing it more often lately. She bit harder, but instead of withdrawing, his thumb stirred inside her mouth.
“Let me treat it,” he said in a low, husky voice.
Qian Jiaoniang’s vision went dark as his hot lips pressed down, and her numbed tongue was thoroughly swept by his.
He held her tightly, body hot and unyielding, sealing her against him as he “treated” her tongue. When she was almost breathless, he released her lips just enough to murmur at her ear: “I never dream in daylight.”
Then he let her go and swaggered out.
***
The next morning, Xing Pingchun came bouncing into Qian Jiaoniang’s room, urging her to hurry. Qingya was busy finding her a padded robe, fumbling to get it on her.
Xing Pingchun couldn’t wait to see the polo match and pulled at her to leave. Qingya quickly told Yanluo, Dongsheng, Hong Juan, and Shanzha to go along. Shui’er had caught a chill in the rain and was bedridden these two days, and Qingya herself wasn’t feeling well, so she asked to be excused.
Qian Jiaoniang told her to rest properly and sent for a doctor.
Pulled out by Xing Pingchun, she saw Xing Muzheng already in the courtyard, wearing an indigo crane-embroidered long robe—clearly the handiwork of Zhen Hao, luxurious and ornate.
These past days, Qian Jiaoniang thought, Xing Muzheng was like a peacock suddenly spreading his tail. Was he trying to make all the young ladies of Yongan swoon for him?
In the courtyard, aside from Xing Muzheng, there were also Hong Su and Ma Dongchang. When Qian Jiaoniang arrived, the two of them seemed to be saying something to Xing Muzheng, but as soon as she and her son appeared, they both fell silent.
Xing Muzheng’s face revealed no joy or anger. He beckoned mother and son forward. “The other day was so rushed, I didn’t have time to let my wife and child meet my two elder brothers. Brother Hong, Brother Ma, this is my wife, Madam Qian. Jiaoniang, these two are my elder brothers from the battlefield—Eldest Brother Hong Su, Cavalry Commandant, and Eldest Brother Ma Dongchang, General of the Cavalry.”
Qian Jiaoniang met the eyes of Hong and Ma, each showing something strange in their gaze. They exchanged bows. Xing Muzheng then called Xing Pingchun forward to bow. “My son, Xing Pingchun. Pay your respects to your Uncle Hong and Uncle Ma.”
Xing Pingchun quickly saluted. Hong Su and Ma Dongchang glanced at each other, then hurried forward to help the boy up. They already knew about the imperial decree, and today they had come to persuade Xing Muzheng not to take Qian Jiaoniang to watch the polo match. But neither of them had expected that this awkwardly positioned village woman, the Marchioness, would have borne a child so strikingly similar to Xing Muzheng—eight parts out of ten like him. And the boy’s manners and bearing even carried a trace of his father’s style. The two couldn’t help but feel delighted. Ma Dongchang immediately took off a peace amulet bestowed by the Emperor from his waist and gave it to Xing Pingchun as a meeting gift.
Xing Pingchun glanced up at Xing Muzheng, and only when he saw him nod did he respectfully accept it with both hands. But after taking it, he handed it straight to Qian Jiaoniang. “Mother, please keep this for me. If I keep it, I’m afraid I’ll lose it.”
Qian Jiaoniang chuckled softly and tucked it into her sleeve.
Ma Dongchang thought to himself, Not good. The Marquis’s eldest son is deeply attached to his mother—if the two really separate, it may create a rift between father and son.
While he was still worrying for Xing Muzheng, Xing Muzheng said slowly, “Jiaoniang, the meeting gift Brother Ma gave you, I’ve already kept—it’s a one-foot-tall piece of red coral, very beautiful. When we return, I’ll have it placed in your room.”
Ma Dongchang froze. That was his treasured piece of red coral he’d been showing off last night! When had he ever said he was giving it to this soon-to-be-divorced Marchioness?
