Fourteen thousand and fourteen

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Pei Yannian glanced at the not-so-high wall, then looked at his young wife beside him, her moist apricot-shaped eyes fixed seriously on him. "If I were alone, it would be fine," he said.

The implication was clear: two people together was out of the question.

Jiang Xinyue’s delicate little face fell, but she was unwilling to give up. She looked up again, comparing the height of the wall to her own, finally abandoning any thought of climbing over.

Pei Yannian cleared his throat twice and spoke at the right moment, "Let’s go to the little courtyard. I’ve already tidied it up; it’s livable."

Of course, she knew the little courtyard was habitable, but wasn’t she trying to avoid living with Pei San? If they were to sever ties, it should be done thoroughly—what was the point of still living together?

Moreover, she was in a bad mood today and had no desire to be with Pei San.

Yet she couldn’t admit that she had many courtyards elsewhere, lest Pei San discover that her identity was fake.

So the question was, how was she going to get through tonight?

She thought about it all the way but couldn’t come up with a solution, growing increasingly paranoid. Any slight movement from the man made her suspect he intended to take advantage of her.

After finally washing up, she slipped onto the bed and wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, listening to the occasional sound of water inside. She was as restless as ants on a hot pan.

When the water sound stopped, she couldn’t help but glance toward the door curtain.

She caught a vague silhouette and let out an "Ah!" before turning her head away. "Why aren’t you dressed?"

Pei Yannian looked down at his open collar. "I’m dressed."

Jiang Xinyue glanced toward him and quickly withdrew her gaze.

He did have clothes on, but perhaps because it was too hot, his shirt was completely unbuttoned and spread open on both sides. Though he wore pants, they hung loose and half-falling, outlining the contours clearly.

She puffed out her cheeks and muttered, "What kind of decent man dresses like you?"

Pei Yannian was momentarily stunned but didn’t button up right away. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand propping on the quilt, his body leaning slightly back. The open shirt slid to the sides, revealing smooth, flowing muscles beneath.

Pei Yannian didn’t have fair skin; it leaned more toward a light wheat tone. His muscles weren’t sculpted into perfect shapes by deliberate training; on the contrary, they were subtle but exuded undeniable strength.

Dampness clung inside the room, condensing into droplets that slid down from his collarbone. One small drop got caught in the groove of his abdomen, evoking a vigorous yet wild impression.

Although Jiang Xinyue disliked rough men, she couldn’t help sneaking one or two glances.

Pei Yannian tilted his head toward her, damp hair falling over his forehead. He looked less severe and more boyish, his voice lazy as he asked, "Did you remember something?"

Jiang Xinyue’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably.

She was concerned about herself but didn’t expect Pei San to be dressed so “alluring.”

She even forgot to keep herself wrapped tightly and suddenly lunged forward to help him button up.

"What did you remember? Just say it. I’ll button your clothes first. It’s so cold now; what if you catch a chill?"

Once the man’s clothes were properly worn, she finally relaxed and sat back down.

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Pei Yannian looked down at his sleepwear and said calmly, "I was wearing it like this before, and you said you liked it."

"Impossible," Jiang Xinyue instinctively denied. She couldn’t believe she would do something as shameless as being attracted to him.

Besides, if she liked anyone, it would be a refined, gentle, and courteous scholar. What did Pei San have to do with that?

Pei Yannian hadn’t planned to say more, but now he seemed serious. He grasped his young wife’s wrist and guided her hand to his chest. "You touched here back then. Remember now?"

His body temperature was high. Even through the clothes, it was so warm that Jiang Xinyue instinctively curled her fingers. When she tried to pull back, she couldn’t, causing her some embarrassment. "What remembering? There was no such thing."

"There was," Pei Yannian said, moving her hand inward.

The touch gradually transitioned to smooth, hot skin—soft yet firm. Suddenly, her fingers brushed against something, and the man’s breath grew heavy.

Under the dim, flickering light, his eyes looked like an endless dark pool.

Jiang Xinyue began to panic as inappropriate images flashed through her mind.

Good heavens, she didn’t even know what reckless things she’d said to prove her love for Pei San. Maybe she had really said them, especially at the start, when fear dominated her feelings and nonsense spilled from her lips.

Perhaps from her nervousness, when she tried to curl her fingers, she pressed down instead.

The man groaned softly, grasped her wrist, and lifted her hand. His expression was unfathomable as he said, "You did this back then, and you asked me what it was."

Jiang Xinyue’s face instantly flushed scarlet. Suddenly, she realized what was going on.

When Pei San took her in, he didn’t pamper her and insisted she wash her own clothes. But she’d always been served, not even washing a handkerchief herself, let alone clothes.

So on the first day, she tore a big hole in her clothes while washing.

When Pei San saw it, his face darkened. The reason was simple: the fabric was silk, and there was no clean water in Qing Shui Town. They had to ride several hours to Qian County to buy more.

She knew she was wrong and followed Pei San like a little tail.

When he cooked, she handed him firewood; when he washed dishes, she helped fetch water; when he bathed, she handed him a towel.

But Pei San’s face got even darker, his voice full of grit as he held back her eager hands, "I’m not angry anymore. Go wait outside."

Was that not anger? Each word seemed to jump out grudgingly.

His expression was so grim she was frightened. Waiting outside the bathroom, she even shed a few tears, almost imagining Pei San taking advantage of her while she slept.

So the moment he came out, she rushed at him and said bluntly, "I was wrong."

Pei San said nothing.

Feeling him push her away, she grew more afraid and said, "I really was wrong. I even sewed the clothes back up, isn’t that enough?"

"Can you wait until I’m dressed before talking?" Pei San’s voice was cold and sharp.

She was a tender young girl then, spoiled and clueless about reading faces. She blurted out, "It’s okay, I like how you look without clothes."

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After saying that, Pei San froze. So did she.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a faint scrutiny gleaming in his long, narrow gaze.

Though scared, she trembled and placed her hand on his chest, almost about to cry from embarrassment. But as she touched him, something felt off, and in her sadness she asked, "What is this?"

Doing those things herself was one matter; being forced to recall them was another.

At this point, she wanted to kneel down and beg Pei San, clutching his leg and crying, "Please stop, really stop."

What was the difference between this and performing a handstand for her beloved at a banquet?

Pei San didn’t feel awkward. His young wife had said she liked him so many times that sometimes he really couldn’t remember.

He kindly reminded her, "You also said you thought I was agile, brave, gallant, and handsome—things you’d never seen before..."

"Stop talking!" Jiang Xinyue finally couldn’t bear the shame any longer and pounced on him, fiercely covering his mouth. "Stop it, do you hear me?"

The distance between them suddenly closed.

The young wife dropped all her defenses and leaned on his shoulder, covering his lips. He could clearly feel her soft body, smell the faint and unique fragrance on her, and sense that she was still vibrant and alive, not just a memory.

A smile deepened in Pei Yannian’s eyes as he reached out to loosely embrace her waist.

After a long while, Jiang Xinyue saw he still hadn’t spoken and slowly shook off the numb shame.

But the more she thought about it, the angrier she became, muttering, "How can you have the nerve to say those flattering things about yourself? I’m embarrassed."

"Maybe because you said them. Didn’t you say your love was quite impressive?" Pei San asked seriously.

Jiang Xinyue immediately wanted to deny it.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, pupils contracting, her whole body stiffening, mind going blank.

The man’s deep features loomed large in front of her, and his lips pressed warmly against hers.

His scent was pleasant, like cold pine in the snow—sharp, yet at this moment, it wrapped around her tightly and completely.

Then, the moment of contact passed—

So fast it seemed like an illusion.

Her hand on her knee clenched involuntarily as she saw Pei San return to his place, lazily muttering in a tone as casual as remarking on the beautiful moonlight that night:

"And also, I kind of missed you."