Against the Current - Chapter 139
Chapter 139 - Striving Against Each Other
The master bedroom of the main quarters was exceptionally spacious. On its eastern side stood a large bed of rosewood carved with flowing clouds, myriad lotus blossoms, and swimming carp, spread with a glossy, patterned satin mattress woven with red gold thread in an auspicious design. It was soft, plush, and redolent with the clear fragrance of Duheng.
Lin Jinlou carried Xianglan to the bed, peeled off the embroidered cloak with a hundred butterflies weaving through flowers that she wore over her shoulders with a single sweep of his hand, and exposed a slender swath of fair, smooth neck. His throat tightening involuntarily, he lowered his head to kiss her, swept her long hair to one side, and proceeded to strip away the rest of her garments. He teased, "Why dress up in such heavy layers? It's the depth of summer now; wearing thick clothes is stifling. I pity you, so I had several sets made of soft silk gauze. Change into them to serve me—it will be rather amusing."
To Xianglan, those words felt like a sharp blade. Overwhelmed by humiliation, she kept her face completely blank and lay motionless on the bed.
Lin Jinlou had already stripped away her undergarments. In the candlelight, her pristine bones looked like congealed ice as her jade-like body lay sprawled out. Her figure was slender and graceful, the mounds of her chest bright and comely, topped with pink, tender buds that stood out against the crimson mattress, exuding a sort of bewitching, seductive allure.
Lin Jinlou's breathing grew heavy. He leaned down to suckle at the pink buds while his other hand caressed her long, glowing white legs, sliding between them to gently knead her soft and tender core.
Xianglan shuddered violently, trembling like a frightened little kitten. For some reason, tears welled up and rolled down in a steady stream, slipping into her thick locks, impossible to stop.
Lin Jinlou's blood was surging. The girl beneath him was like a half-open flower—fragrant, sweet, and with a delicate, soft body seemingly carved from jade. Of all the women he had known, not one possessed skin like congealed grease or a breath as fragrant as orchid water.
Xianglan opened her tear-filled eyes to see Lin Jinlou shed his clothes in two or three swift motions, revealing a lean, robust, and sturdy frame. He appeared even more terrifying now than when he was fully dressed. Panting heavily, Lin Jinlou pressed his scorching body against Xianglan's. Xianglan's whole body went rigid as a bowstring, stirring an involuntary wave of pity deep within Lin Jinlou's chest. He slipped his fingers into her body and coaxed, "How wonderful it would be if you were this obedient from the start. I'll elevate you to the status of a secondary wife, and I promise I will never treat you poorly." Just as passion was flaring, Xianglan flatly uttered, "It's nothing more than this sordid business anyway—hurry up and get it over with."
Lin Jinlou froze. The pity that had just arisen instantly froze solid in his chest, and the expression vanished completely from his face. A grim, seething fury surged up from his throat, and he couldn't help cursing, "Bitch!" With a swing of his arm, he struck Xianglan across the face.
Xianglan's head tipped to one side. A ringing filled her ears and her cheek burned with a fiery heat, yet this pain actually made her feel a bit better.
Lin Jinlou was furious beyond measure. He was a favored son of heaven who commanded the wind and rain; women ought to revolve around him, spinning at his whim—he would dote on them when pleased, and kick them aside without a second thought when displeased. He had already shown this woman more than enough consideration, saving her and her father's wretched lives time and time again, yet she was so ungrateful as to publicly make a fool of him. Not only was she an ingrate, she was a heartless, wretched harlot! Don't think he didn't know who she was pining for in her heart—wasn't it that spineless coward, Song柯? What was the name of the little maid her family bought? It was called Fanshan! If she wasn't dwelling on the fan Song Ke had gifted her, why else would she bear that name? Pah! Ever since he learned that name, a lump had clogged his throat. In his eyes, Song Ke was worth less than dirt!
He had half a mind to throw on his clothes, storm out, and leave her behind. Setting aside the rest of the estate, right here in the Zhichun Lodge, countless women were waiting with bated breath for him to visit. Yet the girl beneath him was truly breathtaking—like an immaculate piece of jade, forever wearing an air that suggested he was unworthy of her.
Lin Jinlou suddenly chuckled. He reached out to pinch Xianglan's chin, forcing her to turn her face and meet his gaze, and drawled methodically, "You're still dwelling on Song Ke, aren't you? As for him, three months ago in the capital, he married the young lady of Duke Xian's household. I even attended in person to deliver the wedding gifts myself. That day was exceptionally lively; the bridal procession stretched on for an entire street, and all the prominent princes and ministers were in attendance. With Song Ke marrying a high-born maiden of an illustrious family, he must be feeling quite pleased with himself. I wonder what it feels like for him to know that the person he once fancied has now been taken in and used by me... Little Xianglan, take a guess: does he care, or does he not care?"
Xianglan lay stiff and straight, her face entirely devoid of expression, save for her eyes brimming with tears that fell like rolling melon seeds. Song Ke—she thought once more of her husband from her past life. When she married him in her previous life, the bridal procession had spanned far more than a single street; "ten miles of red dowry" would hardly be an exaggeration. When he lifted her bridal veil, softly calling her "wife," he had blushed slightly, a warm, melting smile curving the corners of his mouth. That smile was identical to the one she had seen when they met again in this lifetime.
Only this time, he had married a high-born wife, while she lay upon a cold bed reduced to a plaything.
She understood that from this day forward, Xiao Lang was merely a passing stranger; thus, she had locked Song Ke securely away at the very bottom of her heart. Why, then, must Lin Jinlou so cruelly dig up and tear open this unspeakable affection of hers?
Lin Jinlou loathed Xianglan shedding tears of heartbreak and despair over Song Ke. He kissed her lips roughly, forced her legs apart, and slowly thrust his thick, rigid manhood inside. Stung by the pain and discomfort, Xianglan began to struggle, but Lin Jinlou subdued her effortlessly. Xianglan felt as though she were being torn apart below, shivering with pain as she wept aloud.
After a long while, Lin Jinlou finally subsided, burying his face in the crook of Xianglan's neck as he breathed heavily. After a moment, he raised his head to meet Xianglan's eyes, which were swollen like walnuts. Though thoroughly satiated, seeing Xianglan's lifeless, on-the-verge-of-death appearance made his anger flare up all over again. He rolled off the bed, walked over to the begonia-shaped stand of his own accord, poured himself a cup of cold tea, and drank it down.
After finishing the tea, he walked back to the bed, intending to summon a maid to bring in water and light a tall candle, but then he caught sight of the drying blood staining Xianglan's legs. The anger in Lin Jinlou's heart dissipated somewhat, and he asked, "Staring blankly with your eyes wide open—what on earth are you thinking about?"
Xianglan closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
Seeing her attitude made Lin Jinlou's temper flare up anew. He sneered, "You were the one who begged me to save your father back then; why put on this expression for me now? Or have you never been a slave before, and therefore don't know how to serve people? With a grown man like me standing right here, do I have to pour my own tea?"
Xianglan opened her eyes, forced herself to prop her upper body up, and silently dragged her cloak over her shoulders. Enduring the pain with trembling legs, she got out of bed and poured a fresh cup of tea for Lin Jinlou.
Lin Jinlou gave a cold snort. With a flick of his hand, the teacup flew across the room, shattering into pieces with a loud crash as it hit the floor. He threw on a robe and stalked out, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing behind him.
Ached through and through with pain, Xianglan staggered and collapsed back onto the bed, burying her face in the bedding.
Suddenly, the rustling sound of footsteps drew near. Someone gently stroked her back and whispered, "Xianglan? Xianglan? Get up and wash up a bit."
Xianglan raised her head to see that the visitor was none other than Chunling. As it turned out, it was Chunling's turn to be on duty. While dozing fitfully in the side chamber, she had suddenly heard the sound of a teacup shattering. Not daring to act rashly, she waited until Lin Jinlou had slammed the door and left before throwing on a robe and coming over. She found Xianglan's hair disheveled, her eyes red and swollen, and her cheeks crisscrossed with tear tracks, bearing a high, swollen red mark that clearly showed she had been struck.
Chunling drew in a sharp breath. She hurried to the back tearoom to fetch half a kettle of warm water, poured it into a bronze basin, and soaked a face towel to wipe Xianglan's face. Xianglan shook her head, took the towel from her, and slowly wiped herself. Chunling let out a sigh, sat down beside Xianglan, and said, "Listen to me, let me offer you a few words of advice as well. The master's temper and disposition aren't the best, and he is a bit fickle, but he's also generous and knows how to cherish people. Didn't Mistress Lan let him dote on her to no end in the past? Not only did she get a whole room full of playthings and furnishings, but the master even gave her shops. He has had his eyes on you for a long time; things have come to this, so why must you stubbornly fight it? Say a few sweet words, coax the master into a good mood, and only then can you live a good life."
Xianglan lowered her eyelids and said in a raspy voice, "You don't understand. I can live through days of servile flattery to please others, but living on my knees like that is something I can only endure for a moment. If I had to live like that for a lifetime, I'd rather be dead. It's better to let him grow sick of me right from the start—that way, there will eventually come a day when I can leave."
Chunling froze. She wanted to say more, and her lips parted, but not a single word came out. She could only shake her head, pick up the basin, and go exchange the water. When she returned a moment later, she brought ointment to apply for Xianglan, but Xianglan refused it, wrapped herself tightly in a bedsheet, and lay down haphazardly, leaving the matter aside for now.
Meanwhile, Lin Jinlou stormed out, slamming the door behind him, the fire in his chest burning straight up to his crown. That foolish woman Chen Xianglan was simply beyond reason, despite possessing such a clever face. He was a fourth-rank general at such a young age, holding heavy military authority—men of his standing could be counted on one hand—and he might even receive another promotion after the New Year. The wealth amassed in his household was many times that of the Song family. Which of these—wealth, power, or noble status—did he lack? Whether it was powerful ministers at court, hereditary nobles, or even imperial relatives, plenty of people were scheming to marry their daughters off to him. Chen Xianglan was undeniably beautiful, but that stubborn-mule disposition of hers was truly unappealing. Women who were far more seductive and yielding than her could be found by the dozen; they hovered around him like flies to honey, pulling out all the stops just to keep him by their side. He simply could not swallow this grievance. Was Lin Jinlou a character to be casually treated with indifference and contempt? Not to mention that she was merely an insignificant little woman. He was determined to make her submit, to make her docilely act like a purring little cat by his side.
Lin Jinlou stood in the courtyard and massaged the bridge of his nose. He noticed that all the large and small buildings were dark, save for a small room in the western wing that was still lit. As it turned out, Luan'er had not yet gone to sleep. Because Lin Jinlou had scolded her, she had been fuming ever since; refusing to remove her makeup or change her clothes, she lay straight and stiff on the bed, covering her face with a handkerchief to sulk. Cunxin had come over to offer a few words of persuasion, only to be scolded away by her.
Cunxin dared not try again; she simply sat down on a small stool, leaning against the wall to catch a quick nap.
At that moment, the door was shoved open with a thunderous bang. Cunxin jolted awake instantly, and Luan'er hurriedly snatched the handkerchief away and sat up. In strode Lin Jinlou with a dark expression, wearing only a silk outer robe left gaping open at the front, revealing his sturdy chest. The two of them stared with jaws agape in shock, only recovering their wits a moment later as Cunxin scrambled frantically to bustle about and pour tea.
Luan'er was overjoyed in her heart, yet deliberately put on an unpleased expression as she sat on the bed, furrowing her delicate brows. Wiping the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, she sniffled twice and complained, "You've just finished chewing me out, and now instead of going to hold your new beauty of a favorite, you come scurrying over to my place for what reason!"