12. A Forced Bitter Melon Cools the Fire

Chapter 12: A Forced Bitter Melon Clears the Heat

The instant Master Hu's hand was about to touch the veil, a jade bamboo folding fan suddenly interposed itself, blocking his audacious move.

Gu Yuanzhi glanced sideways to see Xu Hanyun still seated, his folding fan steadily holding Master Hu's wrist in place.

"Master Hu, the lady of my household is timid and easily frightened. Such eagerness might scare her off. As for the three thousand taels, there's no need." Xu Hanyun's smile was faint, his voice dropping a note. "I'll drink this cup of wine on her behalf, if you don't mind."

Gu Yuanzhi tugged at Xu Hanyun's sleeve and whispered in his ear, "My lord, there's no need to antagonize the Salt Transport Office for my sake..."

But Xu Hanyun paid no heed. No one laid a finger on what was his.

Master Hu, publicly humiliated, was further enraged: "Who do you think you are, to block this young master? She's nothing but a trinket. I'll see for myself right now if she's worth a thousand taels!" With that, he made to shove the fan aside.

Xu Hanyun's smile did not waver. He twisted his wrist, and the fan redirected the force with a deft deflection. Master Hu stumbled and pitched forward onto the table, knocking over a clatter of cups and dishes.

"Do be careful, Master Hu." Xu Hanyun withdrew his fan and tapped it against his palm. "The floor here is slippery. You'd best watch your step. If you were to trip and hurt yourself, none of us could bear the blame."

Nan Gai, as the host, saw the tension escalating. If he didn't intervene, things might get out of hand, so he quickly rose to smooth things over.

"Ah, Master Hu." Nan Gai approached with a full-faced smile and grabbed Master Hu's arm. "You've had too much to drink. Come, come—I've just received a new jar of Hundred Flowers wine. Let's share a cup and sample something new."

Master Hu, already unsteady on his feet from drink, let Nan Gai lead him a few steps away. He turned back to glare viciously at Xu Hanyun, cursing under his breath, "Just you wait..."

The commotion subsided, and the others in the room exchanged subtle, complicated looks at Xu Hanyun and Gu Yuanzhi.

Gu Yuanzhi suddenly felt drained, on the verge of passing out.

She shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but Xu Hanyun held her still.

"Uncomfortable?" he murmured in her ear, his breath warm.

Gu Yuanzhi shook her head without speaking.

"Bear with it a little longer." His arm around her waist tightened.

At that moment, a wealthy merchant surnamed Xu approached, saying casually, as if offhand, "It's strange, lately. Many farmers, due to natural disasters and misfortunes, have been selling off their land. Quite a few out-of-town merchants have come to snatch up deals. Boss Liu, with your deep pockets, are you interested?"

Xu Hanyun set down his teacup and smiled. "You flatter me, Boss Xu. I don't have that kind of money. Though I've heard most of these lands have ended up in the hands of a few big families."

"Boss Liu is well-informed." Boss Xu brushed it off. "They're just ordinary transactions—fair prices, no cheating."

"Oh?" Xu Hanyun raised an eyebrow. "I've also heard some lands were seized by the local government on the pretext of unpaid taxes, then sold off cheap. You heard anything about that, Boss Xu?"

His question seemed casual, but it cut to the heart of the matter—the collusion between officials and merchants to grab land. That was exactly what he'd come to investigate.

For a moment, everyone's expression changed.

Gu Yuanzhi listened quietly. Though she knew little of political schemes, she came from a scholarly family and, having grown up around it, was not entirely ignorant.

Seeing Xu Hanyun shed his merchant's smoothness for the commanding air of a man used to power, she cut in.

"Husband, you've had too much to drink." Her voice was clear as a spring, carrying the soft lilt of a Jiangnan woman. "What do these affairs of state have to do with us merchants? Don't talk nonsense here and ruin the gentlemen's fun."

That word—"husband"—came out naturally, intimately. It caught Xu Hanyun off guard, and his gaze settled on her.

Through the veil, he couldn't see her clearly. But he caught the shimmer of those apricot eyes in the lamplight—no hatred, no wariness, just a fitting touch of playful reproach and concern.

The playful scolding of an ordinary wife felt so real it left him briefly stunned. He understood what she was doing—helping him.

"Qing Yun is right." Xu Hanyun smiled. "I've ruined the gentlemen's fun. I'll punish myself with three drinks."

"Sir, your wine." Catching on quickly, she poured for him and held the cup to his lips.

He leaned down to take it, his gaze calm and fixed on her. He drank from her hand, draining the cup dry. His thin lips brushed against her fingertips, seemingly by accident—a fleeting warmth that left her unsettled.

Under the table, out of sight, the hand on her waist slid down, and his fingers laced through hers.

Gu Yuanzhi felt deeply ill at ease. Xu Hanyun's hand was lean and strong, calloused from years of writing, and he traced her palm lines slowly, sending tingles through her.

She tried to pull away, but he held on tighter. Her earlier playful look was gone, replaced by barely contained endurance.

Xu Hanyun was speaking with Nan Gai when he noticed her gaze. He turned to meet her eyes, the two of them staring openly at each other.

He drew a light line across her palm with his fingertip. "Qing Yun, you only need to understand this: stay obediently by my side, and I will protect you."

She gave a faint, sardonic smile, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "You took me from my husband, my lord, and gave me the status of a concubine to keep me confined. Is this your idea of protection? A melon twisted off the vine is never sweet. Surely even you know that?"

Xu Hanyun didn't seem bothered. He picked up a slice of bitter melon, set it in her bowl, and said calmly, "I don't care for sweets. Bitterness clears the heat—just my taste."

His words left her speechless. She put the bitter melon in her mouth, and the bitterness spread across her tongue, so sharp it made her wince and nearly spit it out.

She silently cursed to herself: That bamboo spirit really does have weird tastes.

The banquet drew to a close, and the singing and dancing came to an end.

As Lan Qu left the feast, his carriage entered a narrow alley and came to a halt. Before he could wonder why, he was yanked out of the carriage by a pair of hands.

"Who are you? How dare you strike this young master! I'll report you to the authorities!"

His hands—the ones so skilled at poetry and painting—were snapped finger by finger by masked men, leaving them bloody and mangled. Then they poured a ladle of saltwater over the wounds.

He howled and sobbed in agony. These hands were ruined—he'd never hold a brush again.

A sedan with a sky-blue glazed roof passed by. The curtain lifted, revealing a pair of eyes—like flickering ghost lamps, like thin blades scraping bone and coated in poison, carrying a bone-deep chill.

How dare anyone covet what was his?

Meanwhile, Xu Hanyun pressed Gu Yuanzhi against his chest, his palm over her ears.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to struggle. Her heart churned like a boat in a storm, and though her eyes stayed calm, they held a flicker of anger.

They returned to the residence together. The magnolias in the courtyard were in full bloom. It was because of that tree that he'd bought the estate in the first place.

Gu Yuanzhi loved magnolias. She'd once written a poem praising their noble, aloof nature. He knew that.

Standing tall and graceful, he plucked a blossom from the tree, steadied her shoulder, and tucked it carefully into her hair. He studied her for a moment. It suited her perfectly.

"It suits you. Do you like this courtyard?"

Gu Yuanzhi lowered her eyes and touched her hair, catching the flower's faint scent. She fought the urge to take it off. Passive acceptance was the rule with him.

She gave a slight nod and hummed in assent.

Her eyes were dark as ink, and the magnolia was white as fresh snow, framing her pure, jade-like beauty—outshining everything around her.

Now she was radiant as a lotus blooming from water, nothing like the faded woman she'd been in that prison cell.

He would keep her in the palm of his hand, tend her carefully, and make her bloom into the finest flower. But he wouldn't let her show herself off to any man—not even to exchange a few words, not even with her former husband.

All she could do was cast him tender glances, only compose verses for him.

Her eyes reflected the warm amber afterglow, her crow-feather lashes trembling slightly, hiding the gloom and helplessness she felt.

The two of them entered the chamber together; Xu Hanyun seated himself in a chair, while Gu Yuanzhi, with her delicate hands, prepared the incense and added calming herbs to the burner on the table.

"Why didn't you accept that fan?"

Gu Yuanzhi lowered her gaze and said quietly, "If I had accepted it, that young man would be in trouble."

His face was stony and cold, a mocking glint in his eyes: "Oh? What kind of trouble?"

"Lord Xu, why keep pushing?" She didn't want to provoke him, but she also didn't want to fawn over him.

His face darkened a little; she was still scared of him.

She raised her eyes slightly and continued in a low voice, "Lord Xu, my husband did not commit treason; he was framed. Can you clear his name and see that justice is done? If not, I hope you'll at least let us, husband and wife, have a way to survive."

Her eyes were like a spring, rippling over his face, clear and pure as mountain snowmelt in early spring.

But her words made him resentful.

He sneered coldly: "The case of Mei Hezhi—I'm only in charge of overseeing the case. Plenty of people arrested him. How is it that in your story, I'm the one persecuting you two?"

Gu Yuanzhi closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling as she let out a breath, quickly stepping back a few steps: "Please, Lord Xu, have mercy."

He stood up and closed in step by step, a dark fire burning in his gloomy eyes, and grabbed her waist, pulling her into his arms.

Her waist was as light and pliant as a willow branch, bending to his force, but inside she had an iron backbone.

"Have mercy? Who was it that persuaded the court officials to petition the emperor for grace, sparing you from the calamity of implicating your entire clan? Who was it that changed your criminal status, saving you from exile? I've done so much, yet in your eyes, I'm a complete villain? Is this how you thank me?"

A deal made in that prison cell—maybe in his eyes, she could never repay it fully. Her red lips pressed into a thin line, masking the turmoil within.

Gu Yuanzhi clutched tightly at the front of his robes, resisting his advance, her slender shoulders rising and falling, her throat dry: "Lord Xu, I have received your kindness, and I will repay it all. Please, let me go..."

He looked down at her, the sharp lines of his jaw taut, and sneered with cold contempt: "How else can you repay me? What do you have left?"

His fingers intertwined into her dark, thick hair, pressing downward to force her head up, his fingertip tracing her vivid red lips: "Hm? Will you repay with these?"

A sharp pain shot through her scalp, and she gasped, a sheen of moisture rising in her eyes, glistening and alluring. Beneath his hand, her body trembled like a flower swaying in the wind.

Her lips parted, her expression pitiful: "There are countless women in this world—why must Lord Xu choose me, a married woman?"

A dark, fierce look flashed across his face—would Mei Hezhi forever stand between them? His insides churned with unnameable emotions, and he descended heavily, pressing a kiss upon her, sucking hard at her lips as if to crush her.

Her trembling lips parted as his agile, forceful tongue swept through, pried open, and thrust in. The cool tongue slid into her mouth, stirring, the scent of a young man invading, her soft and slippery tongue yielding to his.

The sticky, shallow sound of wetness rippled in her ears like spreading ripples—moist, soft, carrying a vein of rich fragrance.

His fingertips drifted slowly downward, trailing to the delicate curve of her snow-white bosom: "Or will you repay here? Miss Gu is quite outstanding in this regard—most serviceable."

Shame and indignation burst forth in an instant; her hands struggled to push him away, yet found no room to resist, easily seized and pinned.

With a light gesture, he loosened her garments, slipping inside to knead and toy with that round, jade-like softness. She gasped and panted softly, her voice trailing off, soft and sweet, like the lingering winds of misty Jiangnan.

From those nights of teasing in the prison cell, he already knew every secret pleasure of hers; with a mere touch, her body melted like spring water.

He loved her expression—that hint of reluctant compliance, the unwilling submission, and the suppressed gasps.