In the quiet of the deep night, two “skeletons” wearing thin undergarments lay side by side on the bed, staring at the ceiling in silence, neither speaking for a long time.
Jiang Zhiyi never imagined that what should have been a night of tender passion would turn out so calm and peaceful.
Just a moment ago, she had been thinking that when he had seen her undergarments before, besides feeling embarrassed, she had also worried whether her undergarments were presentable. Perhaps he had similar concerns now.
Although she had only caught a glimpse, without seeing the full picture, she could have been generous with praise and complimented him.
Who would have thought that her compliment would make him even more distracted and uncomfortable?
Was praise not acceptable? Had she praised him incorrectly?
Jiang Zhiyi quietly pondered where the problem lay. She vaguely remembered that the illustrated book Sister Bao Jia had given her also contained some annotations on the back. She hadn’t dared to look at them before, so while Shen Yuance was bathing, she had quietly called Jing Zhe and asked her to bring the book “The Art of Love.”
Opening it, she blushed furiously with one glance and felt enlightened with another. Her eyes and mouth rounded in understanding as she finally realized how easily a man’s organ could be aroused, and how uncomfortable it could be if aroused intensely without release.
This explained why Shen Yuance had taken so long to calm down in the bathhouse, and why he was maintaining a respectful distance from her after coming out.
With these thoughts running through her mind, Jiang Zhiyi’s cheeks grew hot. After a while, she finally mustered the courage to break the silence, wanting to ask if he was still uncomfortable—
“Are you still…”
Shen Yuance: “I’m not.”
“…”
Jiang Zhiyi slowly turned her head to look at him. Shen Yuance’s profile, chiseled as if by knife and axe, was tense and rigid, yet his chest under the quilt was subtly heaving, like containing a surging tide.
“If you’re uncomfortable—”
“I’m very…”
“Let me help you.”
Shen Yuance’s “I’m very well” stopped halfway, the last word caught in his throat as a halting breath. He suddenly turned his head: “…Help me what?”
Jiang Zhiyi pulled the quilt up to cover her face, revealing only a pair of bright eyes looking at him, and whispered: “I just hastily learned a technique—”
“?”
“Do you know that to alleviate discomfort, there are many paths to the same destination? The simplest,” Jiang Zhiyi extended her hand, spreading her five fingers and waving them slightly, “is to use your hand…”
Staring at those scallion-root-like fingers before his eyes, a vein throbbed at Shen Yuance’s temple.
Seeing him stunned, Jiang Zhiyi blinked, looking at him with sincere earnestness: “You don’t know? Then I’ll help you. I’ve already learned how…”
…If he didn’t know, how had he survived these past six months?
Seeing that snow-white hand reach under the quilt, Shen Yuance quickly turned his back to her, closing his eyes to calm the surging waves: “No need. I’m fine now.”
But he heard her remain quiet for a moment, then mutter softly: “It’s not entirely to help you. I’m curious…”
Shen Yuance opened his eyes, his scalp tingling as he froze on the bed.
A soft body pressed against his back, and Jiang Zhiyi moved to his ear, her warm breath like a kitten’s paw gently scratching his heart: “Let me try it, okay?”
A thunderous sound exploded in his head. Shen Yuance opened his mouth but could say neither “okay” nor “not okay.”
Jiang Zhiyi took this as tacit consent. Half-raising herself, her hand slowly explored forward, finding the waistband of his garment.
Shen Yuance remained motionless as if in deep meditation, feeling that hand cautiously exploring inch by inch, gradually approaching the string in his head that was stretched to its limit.
The moment her fingertips touched him, Shen Yuance’s entire being violently shuddered. With his last thread of willpower, he seized her wrist: “…It’s dirty.”
Jiang Zhiyi, also startled by the sensation, trembled at her fingertips, her eyes widening in tension as she barely dared to breathe. She swallowed gently, but her words were firm: “Brother Yuance is the cleanest person in the world.”
The cool late summer night breeze blew through the gaps in the window and door into the bedroom, making the candle flames flicker and tremble.
The room gradually filled with a humid, hot atmosphere. The sounds of panting changed from initially suppressed to unrestrained, becoming as fierce as if devouring someone.
Shen Yuance lay flat on the bed, one hand below, the other embracing the person in his arms, his chin pressed firmly against the top of her head.
Jiang Zhiyi half-lay on Shen Yuance’s chest, her palm gripping the trouble she had sought, while he held her hand, moving back and forth under the quilt where no light reached. She buried her flushed face in the hollow of his shoulder, keeping her eyes tightly shut.
Even if her eyes were open, she wouldn’t be able to see beneath the quilt, yet she still dared not raise her eyelids the slightest bit.
She couldn’t remember at what moment Shen Yuance, as if unable to endure anymore, had gritted his teeth and seized her hand. The originally light, floating movements had become like the present overwhelming tidal waves. After a good while, her hand was so sore it had almost lost feeling.
Theory was indeed shallow compared to practice; one attempt at actual execution made her realize her limitations.
Hadn’t those few lines of text made it sound so simple? No one told her this was so tiring!
“Is it not time yet…” Jiang Zhiyi’s voice, as thin as a mosquito’s whine, rose with a tearful tone.
Shen Yuance looked down at her, his Adam’s apple moving slightly as he panted: “…You wanted to play, and you have this little patience?”
Her cheeks were burning hot, her palm equally scorching. Jiang Zhiyi’s entire body was like melting from heat, her clothes soaked with sweat. The panting breath on the top of her head made her tremble repeatedly, and her free hand clutched Shen Yuance’s collar, shaking finely.
She felt Shen Yuance’s kisses fall densely, moving from her temples to her earlobes, then wandering to her neck.
Jiang Zhiyi’s shoulders contracted from the tickling sensation, feeling like a fish about to drown in this intimate entanglement.
The fierce storm seemed about to uproot a towering tree. The wind grew increasingly violent, the rain heavier and heavier, yet just before reaching the point of world-ending destruction, everything suddenly froze.
A sound, like a sigh or a muffled groan, rose above her head. Jiang Zhiyi’s fingers paused, and she raised her eyes, dizzy and disoriented.
Amid boundless trembling, Shen Yuance slowly lowered his eyes and saw her lips parted in surprise. He lowered his head and kissed her.
Half a quarter of an hour later, Jiang Zhiyi sat on the bed, watching Shen Yuance, who had put on a casual robe, kneeling on one knee before the bed. He used a handkerchief to wipe her freshly washed hands, slowly drying each finger one by one, occasionally raising his eyes to look at her.
Though he didn’t say a word, his gaze seemed to contain thousands of unspoken words pulled by viscous threads.
Jiang Zhiyi trembled at her core under his gaze, her eyes flickering as she avoided his glance. But as she looked away, she saw the cloudy water in the basin below the bed. Her pupils contracted in shock, and she averted her gaze again.
Shen Yuance finished drying her fingers, turned her hand over, and gently rubbed her slightly reddened fingertips, kissing the base of her fingers.
Jiang Zhiyi, like a startled bird, suddenly withdrew her hand: “That’s—’s-that’s enough. Go tidy yourself up.”
Shen Yuance looked up at her: “Aren’t you going to bathe again after sweating?”
“Jing Zhe isn’t here. I don’t have the energy to wash…”
“Am I not here?”
Jiang Zhiyi shook her head quickly: “…No, no more bathing. Let’s just sleep like this.”
Shen Yuance looked at her for a while, then rose to his feet, bending down to place a kiss on her forehead: “Then I’ll go clean up. I’ll be quick.”
Jiang Zhiyi nodded calmly. After he walked into the bathhouse, she could no longer hold herself together and buried her head in the soft bedding.
After a while, as if remembering something, she quietly raised her hand to her nose and sniffed.
Though it should have been washed clean, she still felt his scent lingering at the base of her fingers.
The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, but because it belonged to him, not only did she not find it disagreeable, but her heart also pounded in response.
Jiang Zhiyi kicked her legs and covered her completely reddened face with the quilt.
Shen Yuance came out of the bathhouse after a quick bath and saw Jiang Zhiyi lying on her side on the bed, her back to the bathhouse, appearing to be already asleep.
Shen Yuance walked forward, lifted the quilt, and got into bed, lowering his head to look at her.
He saw her tightly closed eyelids trembling, like the wings of a startled butterfly.
Such a timid heart, yet she had played so boldly.
“Is my fiancée asleep?” Shen Yuance asked with her ear.
Jiang Zhiyi, with her eyes closed, nodded forcefully.
“Not going to sleep in her fiancé’s arms tonight?”
Jiang Zhiyi continued nodding.
“Play and then discard.” Shen Yuance lay down flat and clicked his tongue lightly.
“As soon as dawn breaks, you won’t be able to hold me for five months, yet you don’t even seem reluctant.”
“Well, in Chang’an, there are plenty of men who are as wealthy as nations, as handsome as Pan An, and masters of zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, and prose.”
“After all, the marriage contract is in Chang’an. Who knows, if you take a fancy to someone new, you might even cancel our engagement.”
…She hadn’t spoken for just a few breaths, and he had already reached the point of broken engagement.
Jiang Zhiyi opened her eyes, turned to glare at him, and spread her arms: “I’ll hold you, I’ll hold you!”
Shen Yuance laughed as he drew her into his embrace, lowering his head to rub the top of her head: “Stay well in Chang’an, and wait for me to come marry you.”