The peach had been passed from Jiang Nong’s left hand to her right, squeezed into a mushy mess—so mushy that even she found it a bit unappetizing. But Yu Lingxin gazed at her eagerly and ate it bite by bite from her hand, looking thoroughly delighted. If he’d had a tail, it would have been wagging into a blur.
He was truly an easy person to keep.
Jiang Nong realized that the harder she tried to be good to Yu Lingxin, the more she ended up tormenting him instead.
She scratched her forehead, thought it over, and finally gave up—no more fussing over food. Instead, she decided to sew him an undergarment. Her needlework was passable—not as exquisite as an embroiderer’s, but it would be worn underneath where no one would see. No one would laugh at her or Yu Lingxin.
A virtuous wife should sew her husband an undergarment; a gentle wife should do the same as a matter of course.
But a husband who speaks out of turn will inevitably earn a slap from his virtuous wife.
It all started with Jiang Nong’s newly painted nails.
The greenhouse had newly cultivated impatiens with bright, vivid colors and excellent dyeing properties—perfect for painting nails.
Jiang Nong’s polish had been partially scraped off by shrimp shells and partially nibbled off in Yu Lingxin’s mouth, so she had to reapply it.
Ordinarily, this was Rong Mian’s job. But Yu Lingxin insisted on leaving the most vivid mark on Jiang Nong’s life—ideally, he wanted to take care of everything, so that she couldn’t manage without him. Thus, he volunteered for the task.
Jiang Nong was deeply skeptical of his skills but didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm. She praised him each time he finished painting one nail. With her guidance, the result was nearly perfect, save for a little staining along the edges.
She knew it wasn’t intentional—Yu Lingxin’s vision was already weaker, and at night he couldn’t see clearly. Still, she cupped his face and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek as a reward.
Yu Lingxin held her hand up against his own, examining it in the light, and suddenly remarked: “This color seems to make skin look darker.”
Jiang Nong had been feeling quite pleased—the new color was bright and delicate, making her skin look pink and fair. But being told she looked dark broke her heart. She had slapped Yu Lingxin so many times in the past that it came almost reflexively now.
And so, unsurprisingly, he received a light slap on the face.
He turned his head with the motion, a little bewildered, as if unsure why he’d been hit—but quickly offered his other cheek: “This side too.”
Jiang Nong had vowed to be good to him, and now she regretted it. But Yu Lingxin seemed to savor it, offering his other cheek as well.
If she didn’t give him another, it would seem awkward now.
Was it punishment or reward?
She raised her hand again and lightly touched his other cheek—treating it as if she’d slapped him—and scolded him: “Don’t you dare say this color makes me look dark. You have no taste at all!”
“Who said you look dark?” Yu Lingxin looked equally perplexed. He placed her hand against his own: “Look—on my hand, it actually makes me look a bit dark.”
Jiang Nong held her nails against his face for comparison and found it was true. Yu Lingxin wasn’t dark—he was fairer than most men. Yet this color made him look sallow and dull. When she moved her hand away, his complexion improved; when she brought it back, he looked washed out and unattractive. “Maybe I should repaint them with a different color.”
Yu Lingxin took her hand and kissed it, asking: “Why? It’s so beautiful—why change it?”
His kisses tickled, and she tried to pull her hand back: “Because I want to hold your hand. If we walk outside like this, it’ll make your skin look bad—that’s no good. I’m not that selfish—I want to pick a color that flatters you too.”
One light comment from Jiang Nong, and Yu Lingxin almost fainted.
His mind went hazy, and he collapsed into her arms.
They had been talking so normally—what was this about?
Jiang Nong stroked his hair: “Sleepy? If you’re tired, go take a nap.”
She was too cruel. Saying something like that and then not taking responsibility. Yu Lingxin opened his mouth wide, but his teeth only grazed her neck gently, holding the tender skin between them and nibbling.
“Are you a dog? Biting again.” Jiang Nong said it with mild reproach, but she didn’t push him away.
Yu Lingxin let out two muffled “woofs” from his throat.
“Alright, alright—a puppy’s bite can be forgiven.” Jiang Nong generously let his transgression slide.
——
At night, Jiang Nong leaned half-reclined against the bed. It had been so long since she’d last held a needle and thread that she’d only managed to sew one sleeve.
Yu Lingxin finished washing up and returned to the bed, bringing with him a warm, damp heat.
Seeing she was busy, he didn’t disturb her and picked up a book to read.
But Jiang Nong kept to herself, with no intention of acknowledging him. After a few pages, Yu Lingxin’s mind grew restless.
It was the Jiang Nong who liked him beside him, not the one who disliked him—so why was the one who liked him still ignoring him?
He rolled twice across the bed and landed beside Jiang Nong—yet she still paid him no mind.
“I just washed my hair,” he suddenly announced.
“Oh, oh.” Jiang Nong nodded in response, glanced at him to show she’d heard, and continued with her sewing.
He’d used the same bath beans and soap as she did. The moment he snuggled close, she could smell it.
After a long silence, he suddenly stuck his head in front of her and asked: “So… do you want to touch it?”
What was there to touch about hair—she had her own. But she wasn’t dull; a moment’s thought told her what Yu Lingxin was up to.
He was trying to get her attention.
What else could she do?
Yu Lingxin had loved her for two lifetimes. How could she not indulge such a simple little wish?
She raised her hand and touched his hair. It was indeed lovely—freshly washed, fragrant, cool and silky, like fine satin.
She stroked it again and again, finding it rather addictive.
“Can you smell anything?” Yu Lingxin looked up again, his arms somehow already wrapped around her waist, his cheek resting on her thigh.
She could smell it clearly—jasmine, fragrant and sweet.
But she leaned in, pretending to sniff, and said with mock seriousness: “I do. I smell puppy.”
She cracked herself up. Yu Lingxin giggled too, lunging up to lick her lips: “Then can the puppy kiss you?” She tried to dodge, but he held her head steady and chased after her: “Even if you say no, I’ll kiss you anyway.”
He was strong, with a large frame—with barely any effort, he had her pinned into the soft bedding.
Jiang Nong laughed breathlessly, saying “no” even as she parted her lips in silent allowance, letting his tongue sweep inside.
Sensing her indulgence, Yu Lingxin’s whole body first went weak—then he gripped her shoulders and kissed her deeper, harder, as if he wanted to swallow her whole.
Her strength drained, the hand hooked around his neck falling limp. She couldn’t breathe, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him, her mind a white, buzzing blank.
“Wait… wait… please…”
Sensing her exhaustion, he finally lifted his head, gasping. Jiang Nong could finally catch her breath, her chest heaving.
Both of them had kissed their lips swollen. Yu Lingxin wouldn’t let her tears be wasted on the bedding; he licked them away greedily, then, like savoring a fine dessert, traced gentle nibbles and licks from her chin downward—warm, wet, sweet. Jiang Nong’s eyes unconsciously fluttered shut.
When he had savored every inch of her face, he moved to her neck, her collarbone, sucking loudly.
His body grew hot, and the heat spread to hers. Jiang Nong pushed lightly at his chest, making him lift his head. She cupped his face in both hands and stroked it, then turned his own question back on him: “What do I smell like?”
Her fingertips brushed his face lightly twice, and she propped herself up to kiss him—then wiped the moisture from his lips.
The veins on Yu Lingxin’s neck stood out, his forearms gripping her taut and hard. Still, he unhurriedly lowered his head, breathing in the scent at her neck. His voice was hoarse: “Puppy too—you’ve been kissed by a puppy, so now you’re covered in puppy. What should we do?”
Yu Lingxin was a young man in his prime.
They had been married for two and a half years—to be precise, they’d only gone halfway on their wedding night.
Jiang Nong tilted her head and kissed his lips again: “Nothing else for it—but I’ll let you kiss me again.”
Granted permission, Yu Lingxin was momentarily stunned with disbelief. After a moment, he rested his chin in the crook of her neck, his body aching with need. But rather than the urgency one might expect, he simply held her tightly for a long while, soaking in the moment’s satisfaction.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want her—but he’d been starved for so long that even a taste of broth was satisfying enough. More than physical pleasure, holding Jiang Nong like this was pure bliss—even if his blood was about to boil. In their embrace, their souls felt close.
Jiang Nong’s heart jolted—had two years of abstinence broken something in him?
What then? What about her daughter?
She shifted beneath him and brushed against that familiar, burning heat. Yu Lingxin groaned, burying his head deeper against her, and only then did she relax. Her fingers slid gently over his Adam’s apple: “Hmm? Don’t you really want to kiss me anymore?”
Finally, his head moved—leaving a trail of wet, sucking marks as he took her sash between his teeth and slowly pulled it open, watching her expression. If he saw any discomfort, he would stop at once.
Jiang Nong hooked her finger under his chin and praised him: “Such a good boy.”
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