Chapter 41: A Picnic for Three

In the rear courtyard of Pei Manor, the repaired Ancestral Hall was paved with flat emerald-green heated bricks. The beams, pillars, and eaves had also been repainted, and a smooth, fresh fragrance lingered in the air… Even though it was somewhat renewed, this place still exuded a bone-deep sense of ancient simplicity, conservatism, and confinement.

According to ancestral rules, the altar table could not be privately replaced no matter what happened. So, the servants had patched the hole in the table with wood, then covered it with gold-threaded brocade cloth, barely managing to restore its original state.

At this moment, the altar table was neatly arranged with fresh fruits, spring water, and scented ointments, everything radiating a solemn and cold stillness.

Watching the rain grow heavier, worried that more wild cats or dogs might barge in, the Old Mute Servant sweeping the rear courtyard put down his work and approached the Ancestral Hall with slow steps.

Just as he was about to push open the door to the hall, an extremely strange and sharp sound came from within. The Old Mute Servant’s face changed. He quickly peered through the crack in the door, never expecting that this single glance would reveal a sight so shocking it stunned him—

Inside the dim Ancestral Hall, the candle flames flickered and sputtered violently, distorting even the shadow of the altar table into something monstrous. The creaking and groaning of the table corner mixed with sounds of water, a dark, reckless madness that made one’s heart pound with terror.

The man standing at the front possessed a mature, aloof, and beautiful face. Right now, his hands were gripping the silk curtains on either side, his fingers digging fiercely into his palms. His posture, like a woman in labor, bore the assault from behind. Under the immense force, his long, elegant legs were almost suspended in the air. It was impossible to tell from his upright, refined face whether it was pain or pleasure.

Patches of scorching sweat evaporated into the air, soaking the glazed-white robes. The chaotic, interwoven watermarks looked like flowers blooming from bone and blood.

Outside the Ancestral Hall, wind and rain raged. A clap of thunder fell, and the man’s waist was bent into an almost distorted angle. His eyes rolled back, unable to hold on, so he had to brace himself with one foot firmly against the golden-threaded Lotus Petal Prayer Mat on the ground, forcing himself to stand.

Sweat flew. The nearly transparent emerald-green heated tiles reflected a section of his calf. The skin of his foot was delicate and smooth, the bluish veins on the top of his foot taut from the excessive force, nearly sinking into the exquisitely embroidered prayer mat.

Before the Old Mute Servant could even close his mouth, agape from shock, a hand with distinct knuckles reached out from behind the man.

This hand, calloused and slightly rough, pressed down relentlessly on the scar on Pei Lianyi’s leg. Its fingertips hooked at the edges of the poor scar, rubbing and kneading continuously, as if trying to stuff something into his secluded body.

“Master Pei, does it hurt…?” Huo Jingzhao asked hoarsely.

“Mmhm…” Pei Lianyi bit his lower lip. He shook his head dazedly, unable to answer.

Perhaps even he himself didn’t know if it was pain or something else. Right now, his mind was completely occupied by Huo Jingzhao. He could only see him, hear him, feel him. Even his nostrils were filled with the young man’s abundant and scorching breath.

A jade-colored hair ribbon hung over his slender left shoulder. Half of his black hair was wet, emitting an odor even more bewitching than the new fragrance of the Ancestral Hall.

Huo Jingzhao’s upper body was properly dressed in black, seemingly normal at a glance. But upon closer inspection, one could see glaring scratch marks on his sleeves, and his waist sash was somehow tangled into a chaotic mess, occasionally brushing against Pei Lianyi’s swaying hair.

His handsome, refined features were slightly distorted, his forehead covered in large beads of hot sweat. At an angle Pei Lianyi couldn’t see, a pair of eyes flickered with a blurry red light.

The soul, released from its restraints, unleashed the lower body strength he’d possessed since before the Dragon Boat Festival. Solid and vigorous, it was unstoppable, as if intent on overturning the heaven and earth within this solemn and dignified Ancestral Hall.

The storm rattled the door frame violently. At this moment, the indulging man in black suddenly raised his eyes. His sharply contracted pupils were like an abyss of unfathomable darkness, or like a thousand sharp arrows shot from a crossbow, instantly pinning the peeping person’s face through the door crack.

Even knowing he could utter no sound, the Old Mute Servant still covered his mouth in utter terror.

A piercing chill, eerie and overwhelming. Extreme cold and extreme heat flowed madly through his internal organs. Even the hairs on his body stood on end.

He had no idea what the man did next. He only heard Pei Lianyi cry out in utter chaos, shouting things like “Save me… No, ah!” and “Ziying, Father is sorry, Father is about to die—”. His usually deep, cool, and reserved voice was hoarse and broken. His snow-white neck arched into a straight line. His eyelids spasmed. He didn’t know how long it was until he finally collapsed, utterly exhausted, falling to the ground in despair, unable to rise.

Several hours later, the clouds parted, and the rain dispersed. The most brilliant twilight shone into the deepest courtyard. The Ancestral Hall finally returned to tranquility.

Huo Jingzhao gently stroked Pei Lianyi’s back, asking, “Is Master Pei alright?”

Pei Lianyi, holding the shrine and sitting on the prayer mat, trembled all over like a sieve, unable to answer him.

Only after Huo Jingzhao brought a bowl of water and fed it to him did he show signs of life.

Watching the undulation of his lower back as he drank, gently rubbing the small mole in the hollow of his back, Huo Jingzhao licked his lips with satisfaction.

“Jingzhao, you lied to me…” As the cool spring water entered his mouth, Pei Lianyi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He suddenly spoke, his voice filled with shame and anger.

He had clearly agreed just now to escort him back to his room. But when they rode to the rear courtyard, Huo Jingzhao had said the rain was too heavy. If they went back soaking wet like this, it might invite gossip. They should first take shelter in the Ancestral Hall, dry their clothes, then return.

Pei Lianyi hadn’t wanted to agree at first, but he couldn’t withstand the young man’s persistent coaxing. His body felt a bit cold too, so he half-heartedly, half-reluctantly allowed Huo Jingzhao to carry him into the Ancestral Hall.

“Master Pei’s hair is wet. Let me help you dry it.”

He had trusted the young man’s words completely. So when Huo Jingzhao undid his hair ribbon, he hadn’t thought much of it. It was only when he heard the Ancestral Hall door lock, and realized he was soaking wet with nowhere to hide, that a grave mistake had already been made.

“You bastard. To do this kind of thing in the Ancestral Hall, you… this is outright treason and heresy…!” Pei Lianyi trembled, clutching the disheveled clothes beneath him. He cursed, but his eyes were full of infatuation and obsession for Huo Jingzhao.

In retrospect, the man’s silence while riding, the vibrations against his back, the suddenly darkened gaze… everything had been forewarned. It was just that Pei Lianyi’s heart was filled with shame, not knowing how to face this impulse that defied all norms.

“It’s only to blame Master Pei for being too beautiful, too gorgeous.” Huo Jingzhao stretched out his arms to embrace him, nibbling his ear next to his face: “I am a man of normal body and mind. How could I possibly endure?”

Pressed so tightly together without a single gap, feeling the vigorous strength inside the man’s arms, Pei Lianyi’s face instantly flushed crimson.

He lowered his head, his raven-black hair covering his face, feeling at a loss over this unprecedented loss of control.

The lotus pattern on the seat beneath him was soaked with watery light. Pei Lianyi straightened his waist, sitting on the man’s lap like Guanyin seated on a lotus. He felt as if heaven and earth had reversed, collapsing into utter ruin.

“Master Pei is so powerful, you broke several fish bladder sheaths…” Huo Jingzhao’s gaze tilted, looking at the springy, limp things on the ground.

Rongchu City had advanced water conservancy. The city’s folk had fully exploited everything from the water, even creating many convenient inventions. The fish bladder sheath was one of them.

Fish bladders were naturally breathable, thin yet sturdy. People would wash them repeatedly in flower-petal water to remove the fishy smell, stitch one end shut with silk thread, tighten the opening at the other end, then apply fragrant ointment, specifically for wealthy families to use in the bedchamber for contraception.

“Why would this be in the Ancestral Hall?” Huo Jingzhao asked, then pressed further: “Why wear this?”

Pei Lianyi was too ashamed to speak, and also too tired. He didn’t notice the man’s expression turning playful.

Vaguely, he remembered when he had first conceived Ziying. He had been young then, and the pregnancy was unstable. Not only could he not eat, but at night, his hands and feet would cramp, waking him up. He, who had been pampered since childhood, was tortured beyond recognition. Yet he could only force his increasingly heavy body to handle family affairs, never shedding a single tear.

Only once, truly only once. After vomiting in public until he was dizzy and disoriented, he returned to his bedchamber, undid his sash, and saw his already high, round belly. The man who had held on for months finally broke down.

He ran like a madman to the Waterside Pavilion, picked up a broken Wolf Hair Brush, and began to paint. As the wolf hair passed his lips, the familiar smell of pigment, which he usually loved, now tormented him. He tugged at the paper, painting then tearing, tearing then painting—painting and tearing again! Finally, he threw his self-portrait into the pond water.

Watching the rice paper quickly disappear, Pei Lianyi wept silently.

He thought that perhaps, for the rest of his life, he would be like that portrait sunk into the pond, surviving with that mark upon him.

But Huo Jingzhao had broken that mark. From outside to inside, from shallow to deep. It was as if his soul was being scorched, turning him into a puff of steam.

Seventeen years ago, he had endured the hardship and humiliation of pregnancy, collapsed on this very altar table. In excruciating pain, he had knocked over everything within reach, crying out in agony for a full day and night, giving birth to Ziying only after losing consciousness.

Seventeen years later, in the exact same place, his hands had clawed wildly, his toes curling and cramping. He couldn’t even stand steadily. In complete disarray, crying out, he had accepted his beloved son’s betrothed.

The same scene, yet his heart was filled with a chaotic mix of emotions. It made Pei Lianyi’s mind confused and chaotic to the extreme.

Before his eyes, Huo Jingzhao’s gentle face appeared, then the image of that nearly water-rotted painting, then again the night of thunder and lightning: the Ghost-Faced Man’s hard, terrifying black armor, his rough voice, the glaring, blood-red tassel at his waist that seemed to sink into the skin, the crude words he had spat while pressing him onto the desk—”Don’t you dare give it to Huo Jingzhao. If you dare, I will kill him, and then destroy you…!”

“Ah, ah—” Pei Lianyi’s body trembled awkwardly. He raised his hand and clutched the pearl at his chest. A feeling of relief, sharper than ever before, surged through his fearful heart.

He looked towards the shaking door crack, his expression gradually becoming clear.

I have given myself to him. What can you do about it now?

“I want to marry you.” At this moment, Huo Jingzhao behind him suddenly spoke.

“You can’t say things like that…!” Pei Lianyi’s expression changed drastically. He said hoarsely, “I will listen to you, but Ziying must never know. Jingzhao, I truly… won’t be able to bear it.” Just thinking of his beloved son’s face filled with resentment made his whole body feel like it was plunged into an ice pit.

There was too little warmth in this world. Just let him be a little more greedy for it.

Huo Jingzhao had also been carried away by lust, only thinking that if he married the man, he could do this every day. Hearing Pei Lianyi’s raised voice, he finally remembered who he was and what he was doing.

Seeing him remain silent, Pei Lianyi knew that in this situation, if he angered the man further, only he himself would suffer. So he turned his head, pressed close to Huo Jingzhao’s face, and coaxed him, his face red: “I know it’s very selfish, it’s wrong, unfair to you. But I’m very afraid… If you want, I’m available anytime. Just don’t let Ziying be hurt. Please.”

Huo Jingzhao stared at him, deliberately putting on a cold demeanor: “Is Master Pei negotiating with me? Like you do on the business field?”

Pei Lianyi’s expression went blank for a moment. Then he reached back, grabbed Huo Jingzhao’s hair, pulling the man close to meet his eyes: “Say what you will. But I want to tell you, what happened today, I did it willingly, and I have absolutely no regrets.”

With that, he broke free from the hand at his waist and moved to leave.

Huo Jingzhao’s shoulders shook. He quickly wrapped his arms around Pei Lianyi’s staggering body: “It’s so cold outside. Where does Master Pei think he’s going in such a disheveled state?”

Pei Lianyi nudged him with his elbow. “It’s none of your business.”

Huo Jingzhao raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue: “Didn’t you just nervously say you would listen to me? How come you’ve changed in the blink of an eye?”

This tone carried a level of fondness even he himself had never expected.

Huo Jingzhao’s heart went soft at this. But he still spoke firmly: “Just now, who was it who didn’t know what was good for him in front of this master?” As he said this, the man who had never begged anyone in his life felt his ears redden again.

Huo Jingzhao chuckled softly. He released his hand, then propped both hands on the ground, looking at Pei Lianyi with leisurely interest: “Master Pei always speaks of rules and order, surely he also knows the principle of ‘the husband is the master of the wife.’ If Master Pei were to repeat what he just said with a different form of address, I might just agree.”

His words were clear enough: he was forcing Pei Lianyi to beg him as his wife.