CXD - 75

That night, the moon hung like a hook in the sky, and the chirping of insects filled the air. In the open-air courtyard, green trees cast their shadows, and summer flowers bloomed vibrantly.

Under the flickering candlelight of the pavilion, Yuan Ce and Jiang Zhiyi sat facing each other at opposite ends of the stone table. After a long silence, Yuan Ce cautiously asked: “Is this what you meant by... ‘braving storms together and living or dying as one?’“

Jiang Zhiyi straightened her shoulders, hands folded neatly in front of her, nodding gracefully: “What? Are you regretting it already?”

“If this is the kind of storm...”

Yuan Ce lowered his gaze, surveying the scene before him that looked no different from a battlefield after smoke had cleared. He carefully examined the table—meat charred black like coal, fish blackened like dirt, vegetables reduced to ash-like mush, and soup with floating particles resembling burnt sand. Those who knew understood this was a farewell meal; those who didn’t might mistake it for a last supper...

“Perhaps...” Yuan Ce slowly raised his head, “We could skip this part?”

Jiang Zhiyi bowed her head, staring at the ground: “This is the first time in my life I’ve stepped into a kitchen.”

Yuan Ce followed her gaze to the new pearl-embroidered shoes on her feet and nodded. The previous pair had gone in white and come out black—clearly unusable now.

“And these hands of mine have braved smoke and fire, climbed mountains of knives, dived into seas of flames, and plunged into vats of oil for the first time.”

Yuan Ce then looked at her delicate hands, fingers like scallions, nails painted bright red, and nodded again. If he counted correctly, she had washed them seven times before they returned to their original state.

With teary eyes, Jiang Zhiyi gazed at him pitifully: “All this effort is for you.”

Yuan Ce nodded once more: “I’m deeply moved.”

Jiang Zhiyi picked up her chopsticks and speared a piece of meat that had been drained of all its fat, leaving it as thin as tinder: “If we’re going to brave storms together and live or die as one, why don’t we share this experience...”

Yuan Ce wasn’t picky about food; during his wandering days, anything that filled his stomach was enough. Even in the toughest times, when he had no time to hunt, wild fruits sufficed—but never something like this—

“Try it, Brother Ce?”

“...”

A vein on Yuan Ce’s temple twitched. After a moment of silence, he hesitantly rolled up his sleeves and picked up his chopsticks: “...Alright.”

With chopsticks in hand, both Jiang Zhiyi and Yuan Ce stared intently at each other, took a deep breath, and hesitated for a moment—

“Forget it, you’re right,” Jiang Zhiyi stared at the jerky-like meat that could crush anyone’s willpower and put down her chopsticks. “This storm isn’t worth blowing. The intention counts.”

The breath Yuan Ce had been holding slowly sank back into his core: “It’s there, fully embedded in your Brother Ce’s heart.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded and clapped her hands twice, sharp and clear.

A line of maidservants streamed in like flowing water, clearing away the blackened dishes and replacing them with colorful cuisine. First, a bowl of niangpi (cold skin noodles) was placed before Yuan Ce.

The translucent yellow noodles, smooth and slippery, were drenched in a vibrant, oily yet not greasy sauce, paired with flavorful gluten and fresh cucumber strips.

Jiang Zhiyi pointed proudly: “This is what I personally prepared based on the kitchen’s instructions—every ingredient measured precisely, the sauce made by my own hands, the hot oil poured, and the noodles tossed. This dish is absolutely edible.”

Yuan Ce lowered his head, slightly startled: “Why niangpi ?”

“Don’t you like eating this?” Jiang Zhiyi tilted her head and looked at him.

Only then did Yuan Ce remember an offhand remark in a letter from April while he was away on business. To surprise her, he jokingly claimed he’d been delayed by the niangpi in Jincheng.

But in truth, niangpi was a cheap snack found everywhere in Hexi. That night, before setting off, he simply ate it to fill his stomach.

In reality, food for him was only categorized as either filling or not-so-filling. He didn’t have any particular favorites—but—

Yuan Ce blinked and picked up the noodles with his chopsticks: “Starting tonight, this is my favorite.”

The gentle night breeze blew, causing the candlelight in the pavilion to flicker. They enjoyed a seemingly endless dinner. Afterward, Jiang Zhiyi rose first, saying she would bathe to wash away the smell of smoke.

From the dimly lit distance, Li Dafeng, who had waited for a long time, sighed as he approached: “If you two don’t finish soon, I’ll have to eat for you.”

Yuan Ce glanced sideways at him: “What delicacy do you think you deserve?”

Li Dafeng had arrived earlier, and Yuan Ce had noticed him. However, since Li Dafeng hadn’t approached, it must not have been urgent. Acknowledging the man’s discretion toward lovers about to part ways, Yuan Ce ignored him.

“The prescription has been sent out. The lung condition can be severe or mild, but I’ve already instructed my apprentice in detail. He’ll accompany the young mistress back to the capital tomorrow.” Li Dafeng sat on the stone bench.

“Noted. Did you really need to come here just to tell me this?”

“If you happened to come by, I might as well take a look at what Shen General looks like when he’s disheartened.”

“What do I have to be disheartened about?” Yuan Ce pointed at the now-empty bowl in front of him. “I have niangpi made by my fiancée. Do you?”

“Having more niangpi is harmless, but if the two of you intend to grow old together, I suggest avoiding overly charred food.”

“No need for your advice, Physician Li. I already know.”

“Is that so? I thought her words held magical power; with just a ‘Brother Ce,’ she could take your life away.”

“...”

Yuan Ce narrowed his eyes and urged: “What did you really come here for?”

Li Dafeng pulled out a small box from his wide sleeve: “Since the young mistress is returning to the capital—there’s something I’d like the young general to ask her to deliver to Chang’an for me.”

Yuan Ce sneered: “To where in Chang’an?”

“The young mistress will naturally know.”

“My fiancée is pure-hearted and doesn’t understand your complicated ways.”

Li Dafeng shook his head, sighing as if making a request: “The Princess’s Palace.”

“Which princess?”

“Princess Baojia.”

Yuan Ce accepted the box: “Isn’t it said that good people are always the ones being chased after? But sometimes they also bring gifts themselves?”

“It’s her birthday in July. She asked me for this in the first month.”

Yuan Ce nodded thoughtfully. Seeing Li Dafeng preparing to leave, he called out: “Do you still remember what someone said four months ago?”

Li Dafeng turned back: “Does Young General have any objections?”

Yuan Ce stood up, hands behind his back, took two steps forward, and cleared his throat while facing away: “I was wondering... separated by thousands of miles, how can one keep their affection from fading over time? Is there a clever method before parting?”

Li Dafeng chuckled softly: “From what I see, your side probably won’t fade easily. The young mistress doesn’t need any clever methods.”

And who does need them? Yuan Ce shot him a glance.

“This clever method, you probably wouldn’t bear to use even if given.” Li Dafeng shook his head.

“Why do you say that?”

Li Dafeng patted his shoulder earnestly: “Among human sensations, physical pain is the most profound and unforgettable.”

Jiang Zhiyi bathed several times in the bathroom to wash away the smell of smoke from the kitchen.

In the evening, she asked Jingzhe and others what she could do to make Yuan Ce think of her more during her absence. They told her the saying goes that to capture a man’s heart, capture his stomach first. Thus, she decided to leave him with an unforgettable taste.

If she had known it would be uneatable anyway, she might as well not have done this foolish act...

Sighing, Jiang Zhiyi emerged from the bathroom and immediately saw a figure lying on the bed—

Yuan Ce had bathed and changed into thin loungewear. He was lying on the outer side of the bed, resting with his arms behind his head, seemingly asleep.

The maidservants attending knew the two masters needed privacy tonight and quietly retreated, closing the bedroom door.

Jiang Zhiyi also tiptoed forward. Reaching the bedside, she bent down to examine the person on the bed. Seeing him peacefully quiet, as if asleep, she carefully climbed over him.

Just as she was about to cross over him, suddenly the world flipped, and she was turned over, falling into the soft bedding.

Her dark hair spread across the pillow, her white nightgown rumpled. Yuan Ce loomed above her, arms supporting beside her, eyes clear, as if waiting patiently for a long time.

“You weren’t sleeping...” Jiang Zhiyi began to speak, but was interrupted by a scorching kiss.

Her lips were wet, familiar flavors flooding in. Jiang Zhiyi opened her mouth to finish speaking, then realized nothing was important anymore. Closing her eyes, she raised her arms and tightly hugged his neck.

His sleeves slipped down, revealing a pair of blindingly white forearms. Her smooth skin brushed against the nape of his neck, causing tremors. Yuan Ce looked down at her, deepening the kiss, nibbling and devouring, taking on a predatory stance.

But this time, Jiang Zhiyi’s overwhelming attachment also sought release. Far from retreating, she pressed his neck down, awkwardly returning his kisses.

Their noses bumped, teeth clashed. Heat spread, sweat soaked through their clothes, breaths alternated high and low, mingling sounds echoed within the billowing curtains.

Gradually, Jiang Zhiyi felt her strength ebbing away, her arms sliding down from around him.

Yuan Ce brought her arms back around his neck with one hand, the other moving lower to find a thin strap, gently pulling it.

Amidst the surge of heat, her lips were suddenly released, followed by a cool sensation on her chest.

Jiang Zhiyi abruptly opened her eyes, looking down to see her gown loosened. A loud ringing sounded in her mind as she quickly covered herself with her arms, staring wide-eyed in shock.

Yuan Ce lowered his head, gazing at the snow-white swell revealed beyond the pale yellow undergarment. Watching the peak rise and fall with her rapid breathing, his gaze sharpened.

Seeing where his eyes landed and the turbulent desire in them, Jiang Zhiyi’s cheeks burned fiercely.

Images from today’s illustrations flashed in her mind, resembling the current situation. Flustered, she stammered: “You, what are you doing… you’re not going to…”

Yuan Ce lifted his eyes, his voice hoarse: “That’s something for the wedding night.”

“Then, then what do you want—”

“Move your hands, and I’ll tell you.”

Dazed, Jiang Zhiyi was bewitched by his coaxing gaze, hesitantly removing her hands.

Yuan Ce observed her for a moment, bending his neck to suck on the tender skin at the edge of the exposed swell.

A flash of white light seemed to pass before her eyes. Jiang Zhiyi shuddered, eyes wide open, looking up at the canopy.

Yuan Ce applied pressure bit by bit, as if branding her closest to her heart.

Pain akin to needle pricks came, mingled with maddening tingles. Amidst the dizziness, Jiang Zhiyi let out fragmented moans, lowering her eyes to watch his head, watching where his nose sank, fingers gripping the bedding tightly.

Only when her knuckles turned white did Yuan Ce finally release her, lifting his head.

Through a dizzy spell of stars, Jiang Zhiyi gasped for breath, meeting his gaze.

“...Does it hurt?” Yuan Ce asked softly.

Tears welled up in Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes: “It hurts—”

“Then remember me well.”