The Beauty Within the Gates
Chapter 64
In the face of life and death, there was no room for fussiness. All her previous fussy habits had been cured on this journey. Earlier, she had thought even a pile of dry straw would do, but now that she had a proper room and at least a bed, it was naturally much better.
She looked gratefully at the man by the bedside and smiled. “Thank you, Husband.”
Her sleep had been interrupted, and her mind was still foggy. She had no idea what time it was, the moon must have already set. Too tired to think, she closed her eyes again.
After a while, sensing no movement, she forced one eye open and saw that her husband was still standing there. Confused, she asked, “Husband, what is it?”
How was he supposed to say this?
After all, back at the Xie Mansion, the two of them had never shared a bed. He didn’t know if she would refuse. Xie Shao rubbed the tip of his nose and hinted awkwardly, “There are quite a lot of people next door.”
If she had any conscience at all, she ought to take the initiative to let him stay.
Wen Shuse’s head felt heavy and muddled. She gave a faint response, “There are quite a lot.” Covering her mouth, she yawned. “Husband, go to sleep. Don’t talk anymore. I’m very sleepy.”
How was he supposed to sleep? Was he meant to stand here all night?
Xie Shao felt that if he didn’t make himself clear tonight, he might truly have nowhere to sleep. He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to muster some dignity, but his words lacked any real confidence. “May I… lie down with you as well?”
Wen Shuse was taken aback. He had gone to such trouble to throw someone out and claim the bed, wasn’t it obvious he intended to sleep here?
“Of course you can.” Not quite understanding what he meant, she glanced toward the inside of the bed and then seemed to realize something. “Husband, would you like to sleep on the inside or the outside?”
“Either is fine.”
Wen Shuse muttered inwardly. Since when did this lord become so polite after going out for a while? If he wanted her to shift over, he could just say so. Why go through all this trouble? At this late hour, wasn’t he tired?
She moved inward, leaving him plenty of space.
The farmer’s bed was surprisingly soft.
Most likely, the girl had made it. The pillow and quilt carried a faint, clean scent of soapberry.
The sun had been strong during the day. She had seen the girl scrubbing the bedding and had borrowed some soapberry to wash the clothes she had worn the day before. Hung out on a pole in the courtyard, they had dried quickly. At dusk, she had asked the girl for a bucket of water, shut the door, and had Xie Shao stand guard outside while she washed her hair and body. She had used the girl’s soapberry for that as well. Now, wrapped in the bedding borrowed from the girl’s room, her whole body felt fresh and comfortable, and she only wanted to sleep.
Sensing that her husband had already lain down beside her, Wen Shuse closed her eyes again. “Sleep.”
At last, he had gotten what he wanted, keeping the others outside and sharing a bed with his young wife. Lying flat on the same pillow, he closed his eyes in satisfaction.
A moment passed, yet he found himself completely unable to fall asleep.
He opened his eyes and secretly glanced to the side. His young wife was lying on her side, her face resting close to his, no more than the span of five fingers apart. She seemed to be asleep, completely still.
Since their marriage, this might have been the first time they had shared a bed. Along the way, he had held her, carried her on his back, even embraced her, but none of that felt the same as this moment. With pursuers at their heels, all he had thought about was survival, and there had been no room for stray thoughts. Now, with no blade hanging over his neck for the time being, all those suppressed feelings surged forth at once. The more he thought about it, the more restless he became, almost losing himself in it.
But what could he do? The young woman was already asleep. No matter how many thoughts he had, he could only force them down.
He tried to close his eyes, but even without seeing, his mind refused to settle.
The night air in the mountains grew cool, and soon he felt the chill creeping over him. He turned to look for a quilt.
There was another one on the inner side of the bed, the one the farmer had used, but he didn’t want it. The quilt wrapped around his young wife seemed far better. It was close to him and carried a faint, clean scent of soapberry. Draped over her, it looked soft and warm.
As the cold seeped deeper, he could no longer bear it. He reached out and gently tugged at it. His young wife didn’t stir.
For the first time in his life, he felt like a thief. Not even daring to look at her, he slowly, inch by inch, pulled a corner of the quilt out from beneath her until he finally draped it over his own chest.
Resting his arm behind his head, his heartbeat thudded faster and faster in his chest.
The clean scent of soapberry drifted up from beneath the quilt, growing ever stronger. Beneath it lingered another faint fragrance, warmed and softened by his young wife’s body heat.
His throat bobbed. A sense of inevitability rose within him, like a storm he could no longer hold back. In the dead of night, with the door shut tight, and such a delicate, beautiful young wife lying beside him. If he didn’t do something, wouldn’t he be failing as a man?
Who knew how Pei Qing would mock him tomorrow?
He could no longer think that far ahead. Turning onto his side to face her, he called softly, “Second Wen…”
In the darkness, he could only make out the faint outline of her lowered lashes. She gave no response.
Stealing a kiss would do, at least it would count as doing something. But before that, he still wanted to act like a gentleman. Whether she could hear him or not, it was for his own peace of mind.
“There’s no one around now,” he added quietly.
He tilted his chin, trying to figure out where to begin and how to kiss her without waking her, or at least without frightening her if she did wake.
Before he could work it out, the tightly shut lashes before him suddenly fluttered open. Ignoring the startled look on his face, she said with a faint trace of complaint, “Husband, are you going to kiss me or not?”
She had kept her eyes closed and waited for him for so long already. She was truly exhausted.
He seemed stunned by the unexpected turn, unable to react for a moment.
Having no more patience to wait on him, Wen Shuse let out a quiet sigh, turned over, and faced away from him.
But the moment she did, the quilt was suddenly thrown aside. An arm wrapped around her waist, a hand pressing against her lower abdomen as he pulled her firmly back toward him.
Her back collided with his chest, and Wen Shuse’s heart jolted. She quickly opened her eyes. Her husband was already braced above her, one knee on the bed, looking down at her from above.
His dark eyes were deep and still. In the dim night, he seemed almost like a prowling beast, his taut body holding a barely restrained strength.
Her heart began to pound. Remembering what had happened last time, a flicker of unease rose within her. Judging by his posture, would he end up kissing her lips swollen tonight?
Before she could think further, his lips descended without hesitation, covering hers.
Wen Shuse drew in a breath, gripping the bedding beneath her, bracing herself. Yet… after a moment passed, there was none of the expected force, none of the overwhelming intensity she had imagined.
His lips brushed against hers again and again, light pecks, touching and withdrawing, then touching again.
For a moment, Wen Shuse had the strange impression that she was like a piece of tofu, so delicate he didn’t dare truly bite into it.
Every time he leaned in, her heart leapt into her throat. Before it could settle, he would pull away again. It felt like an itch that was never quite scratched, lingering just out of reach. Half her drowsiness vanished from the irritation. Unable to bear it any longer, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back down just as he was about to withdraw.
Their lips pressed firmly together with a soft smacking sound. At last, the itch was scratched right at its center. The young woman let out a quiet, satisfied breath, no longer wanting to be toyed with. Gently, she pushed him away, pulled the quilt back over herself, and said lazily, “Alright, Husband, go to sleep. You’ve made my head ache…”
Pushed aside, her husband fell back onto the pillow, staring blankly upward, his expression utterly defeated.
In the darkness, he clenched his teeth, cursing inwardly: Pei Qing, that ignorant, dim-witted mule…
—
Next door, Pei Qing pushed the door open and stepped out. Just as his gaze flicked toward the neighboring room, an inexplicable urge to sneeze rose up. He quickly covered his mouth.
The sneeze was stifled mid-way, blocked by his fist. Fortunately, it didn’t wake anyone.
After Xie Shao had shoved the farmer into the room, the man had remained there trembling, wearing a shifty, rat-like expression that was truly unpleasant to look at.
Having already gotten some rest during the day, Pei Qing rose and stepped out into the courtyard. The moonlight was thin and dim, filtered through the trees.
He had intended to sit by the woodpile in front of the yard for a while when, suddenly, he heard the faint sound of water from behind the house. Following the noise, he walked over and saw, in the night, a girl lifting her arms with effort to hang clothes on a bamboo pole.
It was the mute girl from the farmhouse.
Unaware that someone was behind her, she turned and, upon seeing Pei Qing standing there, was badly startled. She took two steps back, staring at him with unease.
Pei Qing knew well enough that his looks could not compare to the graceful charm of the Third Young Master Xie, nor did he possess the noble bearing of Shizi Zhou, or the refined gentleness of that wealthy young master from the Cui family.
On top of that, after holding a blade to her neck for most of the day, he had probably already been etched in her mind as nothing but a fierce, menacing bandit.
Afraid of frightening the girl any further, Pei Qing stayed where he was and did not move. He glanced at the pile of clothes in the basin, then looked up at the bamboo pole full of damp laundry and asked, “Did you wash all of these?”
The girl nodded.
Pei Qing thought of the fat farmer lying inside the house and frowned.
The mute girl then walked over to the makeshift stove under the eaves. She lifted a clay pot, poured a bowl of medicine into an earthenware dish, and carefully held it out to him, her gaze falling on the wound on his arm.
Pei Qing paused, quickly understanding her intention, but did not take it.
Sensing his hesitation, the girl brought the bowl to her lips and gulped down a mouthful herself. Then she looked up at him, her eyes carrying a hint of apology.
He realized she was trying to show him it was safe. The bowl contained medicinal herbs for treating wounds.
Only then did he reach out to take it. Tilting his head back, he drank it in one go until the bowl was empty. Handing it back to her, he said, “Thank you.”
The mute girl shook her head and gave a hurried, awkward smile. After placing the bowl on the stove, she crouched down and resumed scrubbing the clothes.
Pei Qing sat by the wall on a pile of straw, watching as she finished washing the entire basin of dirty clothes and hung them across the bamboo pole, most of them belonging to the farmer inside. He asked, “Your father doesn’t work?”
The mute girl first shook her head, then, flustered, nodded.
He couldn’t quite tell what she meant, but one thing was clear to Pei Qing: the farmer wasn’t raising a daughter at all; he was keeping a servant.
He scoffed inwardly. There really are plenty of fathers in this world who are no fathers at all.
After finishing the basin of laundry, the mute girl saw that he was still sitting there. She raised a hand toward him, then placed both palms together by her cheek and tilted her head, mimicking a sleeping gesture.
She was probably urging him to rest early.
Glancing at the sky, it was indeed late. Just as Pei Qing was about to get up, he saw her turn and walk back behind the stove. Frowning slightly, he asked, “You’re not going to sleep?”
The mute girl shook her head. Pointing to the pile of firewood nearby, she pulled out an axe. With her other hand, she made a gesture of covering her ears, urging him again to go back, afraid the noise would disturb him.
Pei Qing didn’t move.
Seeing that she couldn’t persuade him, the mute girl didn’t press further and went back to her work.
She wasn’t tall, and her body looked slender, yet when she raised the axe, her strength was anything but small. A small oil lamp burned on the stove, its light falling on the chopping block before her. As Pei Qing watched for a while, his vision suddenly blurred.
The girl’s figure slowly overlapped with another familiar figure in his memory.
When Pei Yuanqiu left, he was only six years old.
A widowed mother and child, making a living, had been even harder. In those years, his mother worked for others during the day, and at night, just like this mute girl, she would chop firewood and wash clothes, often toiling until midnight.
She had been just as thin.
Her hands had been little more than skin stretched over bone.
“Are you trying to work me to death…?” A sharp voice suddenly tore through his ears, slicing through the darkness before him. The faint light around him vanished in an instant, swallowed by a vast, pitch-black ocean. Waves surged violently, crashing over his face, flooding his mouth and nose.
“Yanzhuo… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Broken sobs pulled at him as his limbs refused to move. Seawater poured relentlessly into his lungs, the suffocating pain crashing over him like a tidal wave.
He didn’t know how long he had struggled. Just as he was on the verge of suffocation, someone suddenly tugged at his sleeve.
The seawater in his mouth receded at once. He gasped sharply, dragging himself back, and the dim glow of the oil lamp by the stove came back into view.
The mute girl was crouched in front of him, clutching his sleeve, looking at him in alarm.
His breath gradually steadied. Realizing his old condition had flared up again, he pushed himself up from the straw pile behind him, his voice hoarse. “I’m fine.”
The mute girl hurried to the stove, poured a bowl of water, and handed it to him.
Pei Qing tilted his head back and drank it in one go. The frantic pounding in his chest slowly calmed.
After watching him for a moment and seeing that he was alright, the mute girl again made a gesture for him to sleep. Pei Qing nodded.
She returned to the earthen stove, picked up the axe, and continued chopping firewood.
Pei Qing sat on the straw pile for a while, watching her. In the end, he set the bowl aside, walked over to her, and reached out to snatch the axe from her hand. “Go rest for a bit. I’ll do it.”
The mute girl looked alarmed and hurriedly reached out to grab it back. As she lifted her arm, a section of it slipped free from her sleeve, revealing skin covered in dense, dark red bruises.
Pei Qing’s gaze froze. His eyelids twitched, and a surge of anger flared up. “That beast did this?”
There was no need for her to answer. He already knew.
“I’ll kill him.” Gritting his teeth, Pei Qing lifted the axe and strode toward the house. But the mute girl rushed after him, clutching his arm and holding on with all her strength.
He turned back to look at her, only to see her eyes filled with pleading.
No matter how much of a brute he was… he was still her father. Wasn’t it just the same as his own situation? A wave of helplessness washed over him, and he stopped where he stood.
Seizing the moment of his hesitation, the mute girl quickly grabbed the axe back. In her panic, she accidentally pushed up part of his sleeve as well.
He had forgotten to rewrap the bandage after cleaning himself earlier. On the inside of his wrist, several small knife wounds lay crisscrossed. Under the lamplight, they were stark and unsettling.
The mute girl froze, lifting her head in shock.
But Pei Qing’s expression remained calm. He reached out, pulled his sleeve down to cover it, then pointed to the straw pile where he had been sitting. “Go rest there. I can’t sleep anyway. I’ll chop for a while.”
The mute girl, whether startled by what she had seen or not, stepped back to the side and stood beside him without moving again.
With one swing of the axe, Pei Qing lowered his voice and said to her, “If he hits you again, hide. If you can’t hide… then beg for mercy.”
It was a lesson he had learned at the cost of his mother’s life.
As a child, he had been stubborn and had taken many beatings. Especially whenever he cried about wanting to find his father, he would be thrashed even more severely.
Over time, it became routine.
After every whipping, his mother would regret it, holding him as she pleaded, “Yanzhuo, Mother can’t control herself. Next time it happens, you must hide, run as far as you can. Don’t let me catch you, alright…”
But he had never run. He believed that if he endured it and let her vent the anger in her heart, she would calm down.
Later, he realized he had been wrong.
In the end, the guilt crushed her. Realizing that staying alive would only continue to harm him, she chose to hang herself.
He had never hated her. Even if she had beaten him for a lifetime, he would have accepted it. It was only after that pain was gone that he found he could no longer endure.
So, he became an inspector.
He liked fighting with others, liked the sensation of a blade cutting into his skin.
But she was different. If she stayed here any longer, the brute inside that house would take her life. If he could help her, he would not stand by. “If you’re willing, tomorrow I’ll take you with me.”
It might be a road of blades and fire, but if they made it through, they would see the light of day again.
He gathered up the split firewood and tossed it aside, then turned to see the mute girl’s reaction. But the moment he looked back, he saw that a blade had been pressed to her throat. He didn’t know when it had appeared.
Pei Qing’s eyes darkened, his expression turning cold.
The man shoved the mute girl forward and addressed him politely, “Young master.”