Fifteen thousand and fifteen

Jiang Xinyue had been beautiful since childhood, which meant she had heard countless compliments and many declarations of love. However, the praises from those wealthy young masters were often expressed through poetry and elegant verses—flowery and formal. After hearing so many, she felt little. She could even recite a poem on the spot now.

But when Pei San calmly said something ordinary, it was like a drop of water falling onto the lake of her heart, sending ripples crashing against its edges, stirring feelings she couldn’t quite explain.

Yet, was she really in a romantic relationship with Pei San?

She admitted that Pei San treated her well, but she didn’t believe he had much affection for her.

When she first met Pei San, she was at her lowest—covered in red rashes and looking like a little clay doll. Pei San had to change three or four buckets of water to clean her, then covered her body with thick ointment. Lying in bed then, she felt like a pig about to be roasted, marinated and ready for the fire.

Though she considered herself exceptional—adept in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—her talents were useless in the remote mountain village. She couldn’t cook, wash clothes, or do dishes, nor could she raise silkworms, weave, or farm. At first, Pei San often met her with a glum face, as if silently saying, “Why can’t you do anything?”

Their relationship improved only after they “married.” In fact, they spent more time together in bed than in daily interaction.

Well, it wasn’t just bed time.

So when she ran away, she felt little guilt.

What a dilemma.

She would have preferred Pei San to be rough and pin her down, taking his losses with a grunt, rather than suddenly becoming heartfelt and making her feel like a heartless man pulling up his pants and leaving.

Jiang Xinyue’s tongue stumbled as she tried to say something to ease the tension, when she suddenly heard words behind her.

“I’ve never had a living soul dare to deceive me like that. At that moment, I thought, if I caught you, then...” Pei Yannan stopped abruptly.

Her heart twisted, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Then what?”

Pei Yannan turned his face slightly and gave her a meaningful look.

“Heh, heh.” She laughed awkwardly, her hand trembling involuntarily.

“This has nothing to do with you. Haven’t we already explained? It’s all just a misunderstanding.” Pei Yannan sighed.

Not far away, the candle flickered quietly, occasionally crackling in the still room.

Half-hidden in shadow, Pei Yannan’s half-profile lowered his eyelids, his dark gaze unreadable. “You’re not hiding anything else from me, are you?”

Jiang Xinyue’s initial fear gave way to guilt as she replayed every word she had said.

Her heart pounded wildly; she suspected she might have accidentally let something slip, causing Pei San’s suspicions. But logically, her set of excuses should have easily fooled a rustic mountain man like Pei San.

“Qiaoqiao wouldn’t hide anything from you.”

“Really?”

Hearing doubt in his voice, Jiang Xinyue knew she couldn’t bluff her way out this time. She leaned in, resting her entire body against his shoulder.

Even this gesture was deliberate—weak and delicate, with tears glistening in her eyes, her breath just brushing past the man’s ear, subtle and almost imperceptible.

Her voice was sweet and syrupy as she croaked, “You don’t trust me?”

She could clearly see the skin on Pei San’s ear flush, even hear his slight swallowing, yet he remained still, lowering his head as if deep in thought.

This wasn’t a moment for thinking.

Growing anxious, Jiang Xinyue kissed his cheek.

Still no response.

This man was so hard to coax. Finally, she resolutely cupped both sides of Pei San’s face, forcing him to turn toward her.

In this posture, she was almost kneeling on the bed, her head nearly half a head taller than his. As she leaned over, her silky ribbons of hair brushed down past her delicate cheek, shimmering in the candlelight like a luminous halo.

Her eyes were bright and clear, blending allure with a hint of girlish shyness. When she lowered her head to kiss his lips, she closed her eyes.

Her long lashes fluttered softly.

“My dear husband...” The two words carried not just a title, but the symbol of their bond.

Before this, Pei Yannan had been quite angry. He could tell Qiaoqiao had come back reluctantly, sensed her resistance to his touch, and knew she was hiding much.

He wasn’t without temper. Growing up in the military camp, commanding troops for years, he was used to being obeyed without question.

If any other woman had behaved as she did, she would have faced countless rebukes.

But when she leaned in so soft and tender, calling him “husband,” all his anger melted away.

Fine, as long as the love was real, what did the trivial details matter?

Once his anger dissipated, longing took hold.

He truly thought about it.

So when his small wife was just about to pull away, he couldn’t resist and kissed her back.

This was no longer a mere fleeting kiss; it delved deeper, exploring more.

At first, Jiang Xinyue intended to soothe him and let it pass, unguarded. But before she realized, her lips were forced open, the coarse, rough sensation unmistakable. She felt her tongue being sucked and pulled outward.

Rude, wild, a primitive beast’s instinct.

Such a barbarian!

She was so angry she wanted to bite him, but the moment she closed her mouth, it was forced open again, enduring more sweeping intrusion. When the rough tongue slid against her palate, her body suddenly softened, and a soft, tender sound escaped her throat.

The sound was gentle and powerless, yet it seemed filled with countless tiny hooks that captured her very soul.

Was that really her voice?

Blushing deeply, her heart racing, she pressed her hand against the hard shoulder blades of the man, trying to push him away.

But he didn’t budge.

As her collar became disheveled, her body arched backward like a taut bowstring or a trembling drop of water hanging from a branch.

Seeing the man’s head nestled against her like a droplet, she trembled all over, overwhelmed by a strange yet familiar feeling that washed over her like a wave.

Grasping the last shred of clarity, she urgently said, “Not tonight.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I... I’m having my period.”

Pei Yannan didn’t believe her. His voice was rough from being suddenly interrupted, but he kissed her again, stating a fact: “I just put your clothes in the bamboo basket—no blood stains.”

If this continued, he would consume her entirely. She no longer cared about appearances, hurriedly saying, “I just noticed; I’ve already changed my sanitary pad.” Luckily, she knew Pei San well and was prepared—she wouldn’t be afraid if he checked now.

Pei Yannan raised an eyebrow, then stepped back after hearing her. Anyone interrupted like this would be displeased. His face darkened, his profound features radiating a “no strangers allowed” aura.

He then buttoned up her loosened collar, rolled to the side to resume his previous position, allowing their rapid breathing to calm.

But after such a long rest, the fire between them wasn’t easy to quench.

He said honestly, “Next time, if it can’t happen, don’t provoke me, or I might lose control and hurt you.”

That’s because all you think about is this.

Jiang Xinyue grumbled silently but dared not say it aloud. Still, she couldn’t hold back from retorting, “I didn’t ask you to do anything else!”

Pei Yannan glanced sideways.

Sweat dotted his brow, his gaze cold and serious, his high nose bridge and compressed lips exuding an innate pressure.

Looking at his small wife, her collar buttoned up, sitting with a slight pout, he said nothing more and stood up, heading outside.

Jiang Xinyue was puzzled.

Could it be that he really stormed off in anger?

He doesn’t get mad over trivial things—he’s just craving her body.

Her face darkened, and she ignored him, curling up under the covers.

Lately, she had been sleeping well, nestling into the soft bed. Even while angry, she quickly drifted into a hazy sleep.

Half asleep, she heard Pei San calling her name. Still sulking, she didn’t respond, clutching her blanket tighter.

The next moment, she was pulled out of bed, blanket and all.

“Drink some ginger soup, or it’ll start hurting soon.”

What did ginger soup have to do with sleep?

Jiang Xinyue turned away in protest. “I want to sleep.”

“Drink first, then sleep. If it still hurts later, I’ll get the doctor to check on you.”

When Qiaoqiao was in pain, she couldn’t stand, and even after all this time, her energy and blood hadn’t fully recovered.

“Qiaoqiao, be good.”

Reluctantly coaxed and half forced, she finished the bitter ginger soup and instantly felt more awake.

No surprise—the ginger soup was the worst she’d ever tasted.

She even suspected Pei San was deliberately punishing her, staring blearily at him with a grudge nearly solidifying.

“This place is newly moved into; there’s nothing here, just a little sweet water,” Pei Yannan said, patting her head. After placing the bowl on the table, he blew out the candle.

Then he naturally lay beside his small wife, pulling her into his embrace. “Alright, go to sleep.”

The man’s body radiated warmth, clearly felt through the two layers of silk bedding. Once under the covers, the temperature rose quickly, making her feel much warmer.

Just for that, Jiang Xinyue decided to endure.

But soon her face darkened again as she pulled his hand out from under her clothes—only for his hand to return naturally.

“You said you wanted to sleep,” she said, her tone sour.

“Mm, I just want to see if it still hurts.” Pei Yannan paused, feeling the delicate texture beneath his hand, then hesitated, “Have you gained weight?”

“You’re the one who’s gained weight! I haven’t gained any!” Jiang Xinyue snapped.

Pei Yannan kissed her forehead, his warm breath making his words slurred, “Then I’ll check again.”

Jiang Xinyue wanted to protest but gave up, letting him be and closing her eyes to sleep.

Before drifting off, she heard his low voice, “Why didn’t you get angry when you heard I went to the pleasure boat? Aren’t you afraid I’d indulge myself there?”

To be fair, Pei San’s voice was pleasant—clear and mellow in the night, like flowing water over a mountain stream.

But no matter how lovely the voice, when one wants to sleep, it becomes a torment.

Especially after being interrupted repeatedly today, making her even more irritable. Her brain was a muddle, so she blurted out the truth.

“If you’re still as bad as before, you might as well not do it.”

The world fell silent immediately.

Jiang Xinyue had no idea what she’d just said. Seeing no one bothering her, she wrapped herself tightly and went back to sleep.

Pei Yannan was left stunned in the darkness.

He performed poorly?