Wish You All the Best - Chapter 43
Chapter 43
Pei You’an had remained awake for the entire latter half of the night.
Although he had always been a light sleeper, his lifelong self-discipline—surpassing that which most people could ever hope to achieve—had allowed him to develop a habit: even when his mind was burdened with heavy thoughts, he could swiftly clear them away and fall asleep as soon as he lay down, knowing that sleep nourished his vitality and spirit. It was rare for him to spend the entire latter half of the night awake, without closing his eyes for even a single moment, as he had last night.
Last night, he had married her, and he had shared a physical intimacy with her.
Having another person by his side on the pillow—and a woman at that—was a sensation he had never experienced before. It was entirely different from the time at the Meng family estate when she had climbed into his bed while he was drunk, and he had unknowingly spent the night holding her.
Last night, as he fulfilled his duty as a husband on their wedding night, he had been quite attentive to her reactions.
Underneath him, she remained motionless, her brows furrowed tightly and her eyes shut. He was certain that from beginning to end, she had not opened her eyes to look at him even once, as if she were enduring something she was not particularly willing to do, yet had to experience nonetheless.
Consequently, he became increasingly cautious with her, doing his best not to touch the places he felt she might not want him to touch.
This caused Pei You’an to once again confirm a long-held thought. From the very beginning, this little cousin had stayed by his side, trying every possible way to please him, even going so far as to meticulously plan that bizarre scheme which led him to marry her, all for the sake of avoiding calamity. Last night, she had once again taken the initiative to show affection, which he assumed was merely her way of considering how to solidify the marital bond they had just formed.
Tonight, he could have completely ignored her, but thinking of the embarrassment she might face the next morning, and the sadness and disappointment she would feel at being rejected by him right now, he ultimately could not bear it.
The fact that she was willing to save a dying stranger out of pity showed that she was capable of being taught. Since he had married her, he should put her mind completely at ease. That was what he had told himself when he reached out his arm to her earlier.
She was attached to him to avoid calamity; this thought had not come to him just tonight. He had known it all along. But previously, he had not felt particularly repelled by it. Yet, at this specific moment—with her pressed beneath him—when that same thought surfaced again, he finally experienced a sense of unpleasantness that was unprecedented and quite unlike anything he had felt before.
After all, he was not a saint. Who could be a saint, being a creature of flesh and blood nourished by grain? He had promised to marry her and had indeed done so; as far as that accidental night went, he had fulfilled his obligations. Last night, he originally had no mood to engage in such things with her.
Due to his frail health in childhood, he had encountered various kinds of physicians who treated him, including great masters of the craft and, naturally, so-called eccentric individuals with strange talents. When he was ten, there was once a Daoist priest known for "bigÅ«" (abstaining from grain) and cultivating qi. It was rumored that he was two hundred years old, yet he still looked like a middle-aged man with black hair and supple skin. The Duke of Wei, moved by his reputation, invited the priest to teach him breathing techniques and how to strengthen his body. After some time, the priest brought out a book of "Heart Sutras," telling him that by following its contents—using the essence of a virgin to refine qi—he would surely be cured of all diseases, and he demanded that they find a young girl who met the criteria for this practice. When the Duke of Wei found out that this priest was merely in his sixties and simply better-preserved than the average person, rather than two hundred years old, he chased the man away. The so-called "Heart Sutra" cultivation naturally remained at a purely theoretical level.
The breathing techniques taught by the priest were indeed useful, and for many years, Pei You’an had persisted in them and benefited from them. As for the so-called "Heart Sutra," it was the first and only time in his life that he had received such an obscure instruction regarding the matters between men and women.
So many years had passed that he had never recalled that incident again, but at this moment, as if by some strange fate, some impressions that should not have existed surfaced in his mind.
He was exceptionally gifted and had possessed an eidetic memory since childhood. Although he had only glanced over the contents of that Heart Sutra a few times when the priest took it out, as he thought about it now, it immediately appeared in his mind, vivid and lifelike.
Looking at her lying beneath him, enduring in silence with her eyes closed, a thought that carried a hint of malice suddenly arose in Pei You’an’s heart.
If he were to use the methods from the priest’s Heart Sutra to deal with her, what would she be like then?
But the thought passed in a flash. Before he could dwell on it, she seemed to feel uncomfortable and twisted her body slightly beneath him. At that moment, he lost control and rushed to finish. After the intimacy ended and the heat of the sweat on his back had yet to dissipate, he saw her curled up beside him with her eyes closed, her remaining clothes in disarray, her hands and feet covering her jade-like body in such a pitiful way. His heart was immediately seized by a heavy sense of self-reproach and guilt. He steadied his mind, settled her down, tidied himself up, and finally rested.
Pei You’an knew that she, beside him, had not slept deeply at first and must have woken up a few times in the middle of the night, only drifting off once she was utterly exhausted toward dawn.
Yet, for the entire night, he was unable to fall asleep again.
The deficiency of blood and energy caused by his childhood frailty—though it did not manifest significantly after he reached adulthood—clearly still had a detrimental effect on him, judging by last night.
The initial self-reproach and guilt were followed by concerns and the unavoidable, faint frustration that accompanied them.
That night, Pei You’an suffered from complete insomnia.
Not long after she fell asleep, she rolled over to his side. Her small, fuzzy head pressed against his shoulder, and she leaned against him.
In her sleep, she seemed to enjoy snuggling with him; once she leaned over, she never moved again, sinking into a deep slumber.
Pei You’an heard nothing but her soft breathing by his ear. A patch of warm, orchid-like fragrance seemed to gradually permeate the air with her breaths.
He closed his eyes, concentrating his mind and gathering his qi, but no matter how he breathed, he could not fall asleep as peacefully as she did—at least, not until this moment, when he heard a knocking sound from outside the door.
He opened his eyes slowly, his pupils veiled by a faint layer of bloodshot redness.
It was still dark outside the window, and the dragon-phoenix wedding candles had burned all night. By the dim candlelight filtering into the bed canopy, Pei You’an watched her sleepy, slumbering face pressed against him for a moment before rising with light, cautious movements.
...
Last night, Jiafu had been waking and sleeping intermittently, her dreams restless. Now, just as she was in the midst of a deep and peaceful slumber, she was forcibly pushed awake. Struggling to open her bleary eyes, she was shocked to find Nanny Liu’s magnified face right in front of her. "Grand Madam, it is time to rise! It has been past the fifth watch by a quarter-hour! The Master has been up for a long time and is already waiting for you!"
Jiafu was dazed at first, then suddenly realized that "Grand Madam" was how she was being addressed. She immediately sobered up and turned her head quickly to see that the spot on the pillow was indeed empty. Pei You’an had risen at some unknown hour and was already gone.
He hadn't even called her when he woke up, causing her to oversleep!
Jiafu scrambled up in a panic.
A Nanny surnamed Wang, who worked under Madam Xin, entered with a maid. Nanny Liu, knowing their purpose, walked over and personally took the tray containing the bridal cloth. Nanny Wang glanced at it, took it, offered a fawning smile and a bow to Jiafu, wished her a good morning, and left.
Nanny Liu and Tanxiang helped Jiafu dress, finishing quickly. Muxiang brought in several Pei family maids carrying washing utensils, and once finished, Jiafu didn't even have time to eat a single bite before hurrying outside.
"Grand Madam, the Master just said the time has not yet arrived. There are many things to do this morning, so have a bite to eat before you go..."
Nanny Liu, knowing Jiafu hadn't eaten much the night before and fearing she was hungry, chased after her to say this.
"I can't eat..."
Jiafu turned around the floor-to-ceiling screen and hurried into the outer living room. She caught sight of Pei You’an sitting upright by the chess table, holding a scroll as if he were waiting for her while reading. He was dressed neatly, looking refreshed and spirited. Hearing her voice, he looked up.
Jiafu stopped abruptly. Meeting his gaze, she felt slightly awkward and explained in a low voice, "It was my fault this morning for oversleeping and keeping you waiting. I am ready now, so we can go."
Pei You’an said, "It is not too late. There is no harm in eating before you go." He casually set the book down on the chess table, turned around, and walked out the door.
Nanny Liu hurriedly lifted the food box that had just been sent from the kitchen and opened it on a small kang table. Inside were a dish of tender bamboo shoots, a dish of magnolia fern sprouts, a dish of turnips, stir-fried shrimp, marinated chicken breast, and a bowl of rice porridge. The aroma was enticing, and everything looked fresh and appetizing. Only then did she feel her hunger; ignoring Pei You’an, she sat down and ate more than half a bowl. Feeling satisfied, she stood up and walked out of the room.
The sky outside was gradually brightening. In the courtyard, crabapple and wood-hairpin flowers were planted. She did not know which leaves the morning birds were hiding in, but they chirped happily. Pei You’an stood under the corridor with his back to the door, motionless, as if deep in thought.
Jiafu approached behind him and whispered, "Husband, I am ready."
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. A smile—the one Jiafu was so familiar with—immediately appeared on his face. He nodded at her and said unhurriedly, "Follow me.”