Chapter 4: A Marriage No Longer On Schedule

Sensing her movement, Yan Chiyun silently swallowed the words he was about to say.

 

Yet her approach hardly counted as coming closer.

She merely turned over to face him, and after that, she did not move again.

 

A moment later, his peripheral vision swept lightly over.

He caught sight of the young lady—who had always slept upright and proper—now uncharacteristically curled onto her side.

 

Madam Pu had been raised as a legitimate daughter of a great aristocratic clan; neither her temperament nor her appearance left anything to be desired.

In the past, she had nearly carved propriety into her bones.

Not only did she apply rouge and powder even when sleeping, her makeup immaculate—her sleeping posture, too, was rigidly correct.

 

And yet today, she had turned onto her side and curled up.

It made him mistakenly think she intended to continue the intimacy agreed upon for tonight.

 

She did not speak, and he had not intended to either.

But it would not do to remain silent forever, so Yan Chiyun said,

“You were busy with Mingshu’s wedding banquet these past few days—you must be tired.

Have a proper rest tonight.”

 

After speaking, Yan Chiyun waited for a while.

 

When she did not answer, he was surprised, but did not grow suspicious or press further.

He turned over, presenting his back to her, and went to sleep.

 

They had always slept flat on their backs.

With Pu Jinyu suddenly turning toward him, he was not quite used to such closeness.

 

After the man turned away, Pu Jinyu slowly opened her eyes.

 

She had heard his words clearly, but did not feel like responding, and simply remained silent.

 

In the past, in order to play her legitimate elder sister’s role well, she had always been extremely cautious around Yan Chiyun, racking her brains—almost every sentence weighed and measured before being spoken.

 

As for this husband in name, brother-in-law in truth—he was truly a standout among the capital’s noble sons.

 

Handsome in appearance, he had passed the examinations at a young age, first entering the Hanlin Academy.

Later, because he was adept in both civil and martial matters, he was exceptionally promoted into the Zhenfu Division.

Within just a few years, he had taken charge of major criminal cases in the imperial prison, reaching the pinnacle of power—his prospects boundless.

 

The marriage between the Pu and Yan families had been arranged years earlier.

Had it not been for her elder sister’s “grave illness,” and the Pu family’s unwillingness to let go of this alliance, they would never have allowed a concubine’s daughter to exploit the opening—using her to replace the legitimate daughter and seize her position.

 

Speaking of it, when her elder sister suddenly fell “seriously ill” close to the wedding date, and later “passed away” from that illness, the legitimate mother had initially known nothing of the truth.

 

Because the man her elder sister loved was not from a great noble family.

And even if he had been, the legitimate mother would never have permitted her to break off the engagement and remarry.

The Pu family had been declining in recent years and needed the Yan family’s influence—no matter what, the elder sister had to marry into the Yan household.

 

Thus, the elder sister had taken a risky path, scheming to feign illness, and finally staging her own death to escape.

 

In her previous life, she—just like the legitimate mother—had known nothing of the truth behind her elder sister’s “death,” believing that something had truly gone wrong.

 

The legitimate mother had been in poor health in her early years.

She lost her second pregnancy, and then, a few years later, the elder sister also “died young.”

The legitimate mother ended up blaming both deaths on her, believing she had brought misfortune upon the elder sister and that unborn child.

 

Openly and in secret, she made life difficult for her in every possible way.

Only in front of others would she barely put on a kind face, maintaining the appearance of a loving mother and filial daughter.

 

Her early death in her previous life—worn down in body and spirit—had much to do with the legitimate mother’s deliberate torment.

 

At the thought of this, the resentment hidden deep in Pu Jinyu’s eyes surged violently.

 

Her meager drowsiness was swept away by that hatred, little by little, until nothing remained.

Her gaze fixed on the man’s broad, superior back and shoulders.

 

Yan Chiyun, as head of the Yan family, was outstanding in every way—something all could see.

The legitimate mother wanted her to bear Yan Chiyun’s children under her elder sister’s name, to continue the legitimate Pu bloodline—yet at the same time forbade her from getting any closer to him.

 

She claimed that if the two grew too close, it would inevitably arouse Yan Chiyun’s suspicions.

After all, he served in the Zhenfu Division, handling the capital’s major criminal cases—such crude tricks of deception might not fool him.

 

In truth, that was merely the pleasant way of putting it.

 

At heart, the legitimate mother believed she was nothing more than a lowly bastard daughter, occupying her elder sister’s identity and reaping unearned benefits.

A heaven-favored man like Yan Chiyun was someone she simply did not deserve.

 

So, under the guise of “guidance,” she frequently had that old hag Matron Wu suppress and discipline her.

 

Thinking back to her previous life—she had always followed the legitimate mother’s rules, keeping her interactions with Yan Chiyun distant and cold.

Even Madam Yan had noticed how detached the couple was and told her to show Yan Chiyun more care.

 

Yet the legitimate mother, right in front of Madam Yan, blamed everything on her and scolded her harshly.

 

On the surface, she told her to listen to Madam Yan and care for Yan Chiyun.

In private, she stood above her, coldly warning her not to get close—never to use a concubine’s seductive tricks, like those Concubine Ruan had used to beguile her birth father, Lord Pu, to beguile Yan Chiyun.

 

She let Matron Wu belittle and mock her at will, saying she was born of a cheap woman, a natural-born low creature, unworthy of coveting anything that did not belong to her.

 

Over and over again, inside and out, they tormented her—causing her pain, suffocating her—until she gradually turned into a pitiful echoing shell.

 

Pu Jinyu was quiet, but her gaze was far too obvious.

So close, it felt inexplicably scorching.

 

Yan Chiyun had served in the imperial prison for years; his vigilance far exceeded that of ordinary men.

Naturally, he noticed.

 

Before he could turn around, a soft rustling sounded behind him.

A pliant body pressed directly against his back.

 

Caught completely off guard, his body stiffened.

Lowering his gaze, he saw soft, pale arms winding around his waist.

“……”

 

***

 

Tonight, the inner chamber was quieter than usual.

The candles had clearly all been extinguished, yet the sounds that should have followed did not come.

 

Matron Wu, Jing Chun, and the night-duty maids all wondered—had the two of them forgotten that tonight was the day they were meant to consummate the marriage?

 

But Yan Chiyun had already returned.

Surely Pu Jinyu would not forget… right?

 

After three years of marriage without a child, the Yan household was already showing signs of wanting to find a second wife for Yan Chiyun to continue the family line.

Madam Pu urged Matron Wu to keep a close watch on their bedchamber affairs and had even found a physician to prescribe tonics for Pu Jinyu.

 

Today was the end of the month.

Yan Chiyun had not returned for dinner, and Pu Jinyu did not send anyone to fetch him.

Left with no choice, Matron Wu took it upon herself to send a servant to deliver a message, calling Yan Chiyun back.

 

Yet now that he was back—what was going on?

There was no movement at all.

 

Matron Wu asked Jing Chun whether Pu Jinyu might be indisposed.

 

Jing Chun was just about to answer no, when she suddenly heard faint, intimate sounds coming from inside.

 

At once, their gazes drifted unconsciously toward the window lattice.

The inner chamber was far too dim to see anything.

 

After a brief silence, the murmured sounds of intimacy grew more distinct.

 

Only then did Matron Wu and Jing Chun breathe a sigh of relief.

 

But not long after, that breath caught again.

 

Because an entire shichen passed—and the sounds inside still did not stop.

If anything, they seemed to grow more intense.

 

Not only were there the young lady’s sobbing whimpers, tinged with tears—there were even the colliding sounds of the jade hooks holding up the canopy curtains.

 

The courtyard was spacious, and the doors and windows were not wide open.

By all logic, it should have been hard to hear clearly.

 

Yet the sounds carried out regardless—so intense, so unlike before.

 

Tonight’s dry wood and raging fire burned far too fiercely.

 

Those on night duty did not understand what was happening.

Even the prepared hot water had begun to cool, yet the masters still did not call for them.

 

No one dared to overstep their bounds.

They could only wait quietly.

 

***

 

Yan Chiyun was equally surprised.

 

Tonight, Madam Pu was far more passionate than usual—almost as if she were a completely different person.

 

Yet even without seeing her face, through her familiar scent and the contours of her body, he could tell—she had not changed.

She was still Madam Pu.

 

Tonight, she did not say a single word.

Even when he spoke to her of his own accord, she did not respond.

 

Just as he was about to close his eyes and rest, she fixed her gaze on him and suddenly leaned closer.

 

Her silent initiative was not hard to understand.

 

Without saying another word, once he recovered himself, he reached out to caress her pale wrist and turned to join with her.

 

Just like before—briefly going through the necessary foreplay, then moving straight to the point.

 

There was no particular ferocity.

Just as he had thought—it was like completing a routine monthly duty, maintaining their relationship of mutual respect and distance, continuing this marriage arranged by their elders.

 

They were both silent.

 

So after once, he did not linger and was about to withdraw.

 

But just as he was about to pull away—

She lifted her leg and wrapped it around his waist.

 

Before he could react, she pressed close again, arms wrapping around him, abruptly closing the distance between them.

 

Did she want to continue?

 

Yan Chiyun said nothing.

Lowering his gaze, he did not see her face—only the crown of her head.

 

He still did not move.

 

Yet Madam Pu acted entirely out of character—she kissed… no, not quite a kiss.

 

Like a kitten, she licked across his chest, his collarbone.

Her kisses lingered at his throat, brushing against him again and again.

 

The two of them rarely kissed during intimacy.

Not to mention kissing—there was very little affectionate contact at all.

 

Her movements were clumsy, awkward, unmistakably inexperienced.

 

Yet she persisted, using this fumbling way to keep him there.

 

By chance, she brushed against one of his sensitive spots.

 

In such matters, he had always been cool and restrained, not particularly driven by desire.

But natural physical reactions were unavoidable—especially when they were already in the midst of it, his body’s momentum not yet fully spent.

 

Since she suddenly wanted it, and had expressed her wish to continue so clearly, he did.

 

Who would have thought that even after he agreed and went a second time—she was still not satisfied.

 

When he finished the second time, she wrapped herself around him again, even more fervently than before.

 

Arms looped around his neck, she panted softly at his ear, even pressing the soft, snowy fullness of her chest against him.

 

This was outright seduction.

 

He did not understand her intent—but he continued anyway.

 

Who would have thought that tonight would last a full four times, the bed already unmistakably soiled.

 

She held onto him, burying her head against the side of his neck, clearly too exhausted to go on—yet still refusing to let go.

 

Once it was over, they rarely lingered together like this.

 

Every time he left, she would quickly clean herself up, then each of them would sleep in their own place, neither interfering with the other.

 

Tonight was, without question, an unusual indulgence.

 

She did not speak—only clung to him, panting from exhaustion.

 

Her jet-black, soft hair concealed her face.

He lowered his gaze but could not see her expression clearly.

 

He had originally wanted to brush aside the strands of hair stuck to her face and nose bridge.

 

But thinking of how she applied makeup even to sleep—and her habit of hiding her face—Yan Chiyun ultimately did not move his hand.

 

He was not one for words to begin with.

The person in his arms did not speak, and neither did he.

 

The two of them simply held each other, calming their breathing.

 

Though not a single word was exchanged, the breath they exhaled intertwined, distant yet intimate.

 

After a long while, her panting eased somewhat, yet she still did not move, still holding onto him.

 

She must have found the hair stuck to her face uncomfortable too, because she reached up and brushed some of it aside.

 

When he looked down again, he saw her face—smeared by tears and sweat, the rouge and powder blended together, even staining his own body.

 

“Do you still want to continue?”

When she did not move, he was the one who finally spoke.

 

The person in his arms still answered with silence.

Her breathing gradually steadied, yet she did not rise from his embrace.

 

After a moment, she moved.

 

Without speaking, she tilted her head up and kissed the side of his neck—little pecking kisses, light and ticklish, making his brow twitch.

 

Just as he thought she had recovered and was about to continue again—

She stopped.

 

Bracing her palms, she rose.

 

As she moved, the soft ends of her hair brushed across his abdominal muscles, sending an even stronger wave of tingling sensation.

 

He looked toward her.

 

All he could see was her slender back, half-hidden beneath the cascade of her long hair.

 

She took an outer robe from the side and draped it over herself.

 

At last, she spoke her first words of the night—calling the little maid, her personal attendant.

 

“Jing Chun.”

 

Not long after, the night-duty maids filed in.

 

The inner chamber was relit with candles, bright once more.

 

When he rose, Madam Pu had already entered the bathing room.

Very soon, the sound of water followed.

 

He glanced at the disheveled bed but said nothing, turning instead toward the other bathing room.

“……”

 

***

 

When Pu Jinyu emerged, Yan Chiyun was still bathing.

 

She glanced briefly toward the screen shielding the bathing room, then quickly looked away.

 

Jing Chun was about to reapply her makeup for her, but Pu Jinyu ignored her entirely—going straight to the bed, burying her head into the neatly arranged bedding, sleeping in a most unseemly posture.

 

Jing Chun frowned and stepped forward, lowering her voice to remind her.

 

But Pu Jinyu paid her no mind at all, treating her words like wind in her ears.

 

Jing Chun could hardly act as fiercely as Matron Wu and drag her up—especially with Yan Chiyun present.

 

She could only coax Pu Jinyu softly, urging her to get up and endure it a little longer—she would finish the makeup quickly.

 

At first it was coaxing.

Then it turned into pleading.

 

Left with no choice, Jing Chun even copied Matron Wu’s threats, saying that if her identity were exposed, neither of them would escape punishment.

 

Yet Pu Jinyu was stubborn to the extreme—she did not move at all, as if she had truly fallen asleep.

 

At that moment, the sound of water in the neighboring bathing room stopped.

 

Jing Chun had no choice but to withdraw, looking back at the bed again and again as she went.

 

Pu Jinyu was truly exhausted.

After over an hour of intense exertion, she finally managed to rest.

 

So the moment she touched the bed and closed her eyes, she treated Jing Chun’s words as nothing more than background noise and fell straight asleep.

 

When Yan Chiyun approached the bed again, her breathing had already grown light and long.

 

She must truly be tired.

 

Her sleeping posture had not returned to its usual flat position.

Madam Pu was curled into a small ball, even her face buried in the bedding.

 

He watched her for a while, then got onto the bed.

 

Perhaps because tonight’s entanglement had lasted too long, he did not fall asleep as quickly as usual.

 

Instead, he lay there with his eyes closed, resting lightly for a long time before finally drifting off.

 

***

 

The next day, before dawn.

 

Jing Chun calculated the time and forced herself to go in and wake them.

 

Pu Jinyu had not applied any makeup all night.

If Yan Chiyun noticed something amiss, losing one’s head would not be enough to make amends.

 

“Miss, Miss… you should get up.”

 

The one who heard it first—and opened his eyes first—was Yan Chiyun.

 

He had already woken when the maid approached.

 

“What time is it?”

The sky had only just begun to pale.

 

Hearing the low voice from within the canopy so suddenly, Jing Chun jumped.

“R-replying to my lord, it is already the Hour of Mao.”

 

The Hour of Mao—and this maid was already calling her up?

 

He turned slightly and glanced over.

The person beside him seemed not to have moved all night, still curled in the same position as before falling asleep.

 

“Does the young madam have something to attend to today?”

 

Jing Chun’s heart pounded with fear as she weighed her answer.

 

Saying there was nothing would clearly not do.

So she brought up Yan Mingshu’s return visit.

 

She said Pu Jinyu needed to oversee preparations for the return banquet and could not afford any mistakes, adding pointedly,
“The steward matrons are all waiting in the courtyard for instructions.”

 

Unexpectedly, the man said,

“Then let them wait.”

 

Jing Chun choked, frowning.

“But… they’re already here.”

 

“Mingshu’s return banquet isn’t today.

There’s no need to rush—let her rest more,” he said calmly.

After the past few days—and last night—she was tired.

 

As he spoke, he glanced to the side, only seeing her long hair.

 

That glimpse of the hair’s ends made him recall how, last night, when she rose, they had brushed across his waist and abdomen, leaving behind that lingering numbness.

“……”

Letting Pu Jinyu rest was not a problem.

 

But the problem was—her face had no makeup on.

 

If someone saw her like this, what then?

 

Jing Chun did not dare act rashly in front of Yan Chiyun.

 

Just as she was at a loss, debating whether to fetch reinforcements and call Matron Wu over, the canopy curtain was lifted by a long, jade-like hand.

 

The man rose.

 

Jing Chun immediately lowered her gaze and withdrew outside.

Yan Chiyun had always refused close attendance from female servants.

 

Once the calling quieted, the soft rustle of dressing sounded.

 

Pu Jinyu felt sleepy and annoyed.

She shifted, curling herself up even tighter, lifting her hands to cover her ears.

 

The long hair scattered outside the bedding followed her movement, sliding back beneath the covers.

 

Seeing this, Yan Chiyun paused slightly.

 

After washing and grooming, Yan Chiyun did not linger and left.

 

The moment he was gone, Jing Chun hurried back, shaking Pu Jinyu.

“Miss, you can’t keep resting!”

 

Pu Jinyu was extremely irritated.

 

She sat up, resentment heavy in her gaze as she stared at Jing Chun without saying a word.

 

Jing Chun’s heart clenched.

She instinctively explained,

“…You haven’t put on your makeup.

You’ll be seen.”

 

Pu Jinyu remained disheveled, staring at her quietly, still saying nothing.

 

Seeing her blank expression, Jing Chun tried to negotiate.

“How about this—this servant will apply your makeup first, and then you can rest again?”

 

“Miss, even though my lord has left, there are many people from the Yan household in this courtyard.

If anyone sees your face and notices something wrong, we truly won’t be able to bear the consequences.”

 

She pleaded for Pu Jinyu to show some consideration.

 

Who knew—Pu Jinyu suddenly tilted her head and looked past her shoulder.

 

With a puzzled smile, she opened her mouth and asked,

“Husband, why did you come back after leaving?”

 

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