Xi Yu woke up to find the sun already high in the sky.
He was lying on his stomach on a low couch, half his face buried in the woolen mattress, his nose catching the faint scent of soap and an even fainter hint of pine resin.
The mattress beneath him was a layer thicker than usual—it was the white wolf pelt that Helü Xiong had sent over yesterday. The fur was fine and dense, soft against his cheek like freshly fallen snow on the grassland.
He squinted, reaching out to the side with his hand. Empty.
Still half-asleep, he dragged his fingers back and forth across the cool mattress a few times, as if confirming something.
Then he opened his eyes and slowly remembered one thing: they had gotten married yesterday.
After last night’s banquet ended, Que Zhi had led him back from the bonfire, and amid the rustling of poplar leaves in the courtyard, he’d fallen asleep on this couch spread with the white wolf pelt.
And then they…
Thinking of this, Xi Yu suddenly became aware of how sore and weak his entire body felt, especially that one unspeakable place.
He was still wearing the clean inner robe Que Zhi had changed him into last night—the collar tied too neatly, the cuffs not rolled up. Definitely Que Zhi’s style.
Xi Yu turned over with difficulty, pulling the blanket up to his chin, and stared blankly at the beam across the ceiling.
He had actually been awake for a while. He was just trying to recall whether he’d said anything he shouldn’t have last night.
Yesterday, he’d been so dazed by Que Zhi that he’d said whatever came to mind, agreed to everything.
—
At the thought, Xi Yu felt his face burn again.
Just then,
the door was pushed open from outside. Sunlight flooded in along with a cool breeze and a few wisps of kitchen smoke.
Que Zhi walked in carrying a food tray. On it sat a bowl of hot goat’s milk, a plate of freshly picked raspberries, a piece of flatbread drizzled with yogurt, and a small bowl of cut melon—out of season at this time of year, so who knew where he’d found it.
He still carried the scent of dried grass and birch bark from the morning wind outside, as if he’d been to the stables to help Helian Tao change the new horseshoes on the black horse.
Que Zhi set the tray down on the small table beside the low couch, then bent over to pick up the boots Xi Yu had kicked off last night, lining them up side by side in the spot easiest to step into.
Then he straightened up and looked at him.
“You’re awake.”
Xi Yu burrowed deeper into the blanket,
“Hmph.” (¬_¬) He ignored him.
Seeing this, Que Zhi quickly stepped forward and gently pulled the blanket down.
“Still feeling that bad?”
“Ah Yu, I wasn’t careful enough last night, I—”
“You jerk! Liar!!” ＜(｀^′)＞
All night long he’d kept saying “almost there, almost there,” that it was the last time—and what happened? He’d begged him to stop, but he’d only coaxed and kept going!
“I hate you!”
Xi Yu turned his back to him, refusing to engage.
Que Zhi panicked and immediately wrapped his arms around him:
“Ah Yu, don’t hate me. I won’t do it again.”
“Yesterday was the first time. It won’t happen again…”
Que Zhi coaxed him for a long while before Xi Yu finally cooled down.
“Don’t ever do that again. I told you to stop and you just wouldn’t.”
“I won’t, I won’t. Eat your breakfast first. Don’t go hungry.”
Xi Yu sat up and stuck one hand out from under the blanket, pointing at his hair.
Last night’s bun had completely come undone, with flyaways sticking up everywhere, and the thin braid by his ear was still woven in place.
Que Zhi sat down on the edge of the low couch, picked up the wooden comb from the small table, and told him to turn around. He gathered Xi Yu’s loose hair into his palm and ran the comb teeth from root to tip.
Que Zhi asked whether he wanted raspberries or melon first for breakfast.
“Raspberries first.” Xi Yu closed his eyes, enjoying the combing, answering with complete confidence.
Que Zhi handed him the plate of raspberries, switched the comb to his left hand, and continued brushing.
Xi Yu ate a raspberry, chewed it with his cheeks puffed out, and mumbled something about who’d bought the fruit wine last night—Uncle Helü. From now on, he wasn’t allowed to bring that fruit wine anymore; it had way too strong of a kick.
He spat the raspberry seeds into his palm and held it out toward Que Zhi’s hand.
Que Zhi opened his palm, took them, and placed them in a small dish beside him without the slightest hint of annoyance—as naturally as if he were accepting grape seeds.
“Did you change my clothes for me?”
Xi Yu glanced down at his own collar, which was far too neatly arranged, then looked back up at him.
“Mm.”
Xi Yu swallowed the last raspberry, set the empty plate on the small table, and suddenly thought of something. He turned around and asked whether he’d said anything he shouldn’t have last night.
Before Que Zhi could answer, Xi Yu’s ears went red first. He held up one finger in warning, saying that if he had said something weird, don’t repeat it.
Que Zhi set the wooden comb down on the small table, the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.
“You said a lot last night. For example—”
“Que Zhi!” Xi Yu glared at him, his cheeks puffed out.
“You said—’So nice. We can have this every morning from now on.’”
He relayed that last line very seriously, without exaggeration or teasing.
Xi Yu’s fingers, which had been gripping Que Zhi’s sleeve, loosened slightly. His fierce demeanor from a moment ago diminished by more than half.
He looked down, fiddling with the smooth ends of his hair that had just been combed, and said that wasn’t really such a strange thing to say—it was the truth after all.
Then he buried his face in the crook of Que Zhi’s shoulder and mumbled in a muffled voice that he wanted his hair combed every morning, and at night too—no slacking off.
“And also, my whole body aches. It’s all your fault!”
Que Zhi didn’t deny it. He rubbed Xi Yu’s legs and said, “Good Ah Yu, my fault. Let me massage you.”
He had Xi Yu lie on his stomach and started massaging him directly.
When the massage felt really good, Xi Yu would let out little purring sounds like a kitten.
Xi Yu’s whole body was soft and limp—Que Zhi had known that since last night. Giving him a massage was really just rewarding himself.
When Helü Tao’s loud voice rang out from outside the courtyard,
Que Zhi was in the middle of rubbing Xi Yu’s tummy—soft and squishy, and it would twitch whenever he touched a sensitive spot, just like last night.
Helü Tao didn’t enter the courtyard. He stood under the poplar tree and shouted over that his father said not to rush the newlyweds on the second day,
but he was in charge of changing the black horse’s new horseshoes, and the horse had been waiting for them nearly all morning—had stamped its hooves three times already out of impatience. If they didn’t go soon, the black horse was going to kick someone.
“Don’t believe him. That black horse never kicks anyone—only him.”
“Good Ah Yu, I’ll step out for a bit. Your body isn’t up to it right now, so just stay in the courtyard and rest.”
“Hmph, it’s all your fault. Zero self-control.” ＜(｀^′)＞
“My fault. It’s because this person is my Ah Yu that I couldn’t help but want to—”
Before he could finish, Xi Yu covered his mouth to cut him off.
The corners of Xi Yu’s eyes were flushed red, his long lashes trembling in a fluster, his cheeks burning hot as if on fire. He buried his head and whispered reproachfully, “Don’t say it.”
His voice was soft and sticky, carrying the adorable petulance of embarrassment—with not a trace of genuine anger.
That soft, warm hand pressed against his face—it smelled divine.
Que Zhi tilted his head slightly, his nose brushing gently against Xi Yu’s palm, his breath sweeping across the delicate skin.
It made Xi Yu’s heart skip a beat, his hand unconsciously tightening just a little, and he shrank further into the bedding, even more shy.
Xi Yu’s voice was flustered and soft, carrying a hint of coquettish urgency: “Go, go already!”
“Alright. Good Ah Yu, wait for me to come back.”
Que Zhi stood up and fastened his curved blade to his waist.
Helü Tao was leaning against the poplar trunk, a blade of grass between his teeth. When he saw Que Zhi, he immediately took the grass out of his mouth and remarked that a married man sure looked different.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the black horse stuck its head out of the stable and let out a loud snort, its hooves clanging against the ground.
Helü Tao was yanked forward by the reins and stumbled. Que Zhi took out half a flatbread, broke off a small piece, and fed it to the black horse,
patting its nose and telling it that changing horseshoes today wouldn’t hurt too much—just bear with it.
The black horse lowered its head to eat the bread, and its hooves actually calmed down.
Helü Tao stood to the side, looking at the obedient hooves, then at Que Zhi,
and muttered after a long moment that he had no idea when this horse had ever listened to him like that.
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