Four Seasons Brocade – CH 243

Chapter 243 ☆、

“Not even now?” Chu Mao asked.

Ah Wu’s heart tightened, and she gritted her teeth, stammering, “Now, even more… I absolutely cannot.”

Clearly, this answer enraged Prince Qi. Ah Wu’s slender waist nearly snapped; the next day, she ached terribly, even more so than the night before. Tears silently slid down Ah Wu’s cheeks onto the pillow. She cursed her own robust constitution; even with such a strong sea breeze, she had not caught a chill.

A moment later, footsteps approached. Ah Wu turned to face the inside of the bed and heard Chu Mao say, “Ah Wu, drink a bowl of ginger soup before you sleep.”

Chu Mao helped Ah Wu sit up. With a cold face, she drank the ginger soup from the rim of the bowl, then lay back down with her back to Chu Mao, both submissive and indifferent. Ah Wu inwardly cheered herself on; she would always treat the vicious Chu Mao this way from now on.

Ah Wu listened intently until Chu Mao put down the bowl, then felt the blankets being pulled back, and Chu Mao lay down beside her.

Ah Wu tensed, desperately resisting the urge to shake Chu Mao’s hand off her waist. Any reaction from him would be an encouragement, and Ah Wu did not want to be that foolish.

“Do not be afraid; let me rub it for you,” Chu Mao said, rubbing Ah Wu’s waist with moderate pressure.

“Another slap followed by a sweet treat,” Ah Wu thought disdainfully. No matter how Chu Mao teased her that day, she remained silent, determined to maintain the cold war.

Around midnight, Ah Wu felt a slight itch on her face. She groggily opened her eyes and found herself once again wrapped in blankets and carried to the deck by Chu Mao.

“Awake?” Chu Mao’s eyes smiled, and the tip of his nose, which had been caressing Ah Wu’s face, finally moved away from her.

Suppressing her anger, Ah Wu did not answer Chu Mao’s question. She simply closed her eyes and lay there like a corpse, resigned to whatever His Highness the Prince wanted, hoping he would throw her into the sea to feed the fish and end it all.

“The sun is about to rise, Ah Wu,” Chu Mao sighed softly, adjusting his posture and lifting Ah Wu’s back slightly so she could see the sunrise more easily.

The blazing, dazzling sun, however, now rose shyly, like a young girl veiled in crimson, inch by inch, from the other side of the sea. Sunlight spilled onto the sea, like an endless golden brocade carpet. And heaven and earth, because of this young girl, were imbued with various colors, the outlines of the vast land gradually emerging in the sunlight.

Ah Wu sighed, “No wonder everyone wants to rule the world. Such beauty, no one can remain unmoved.”

“Buddhism says, if you have a lotus in your heart, you see the world as a lotus,” Chu Mao said, gently stroking Ah Wu’s long, thick hair. “But I used to see the world as a purgatory.”

Ah Wu remained silent but leaned closer to Chu Mao’s chest.

“Back then, I only wanted to conquer this vast land of the Great Xia Dynasty and establish my own; Ah Wu, my own Great Xia,” Chu Mao said, grasping Ah Wu’s hand.

The strength was not heavy, but it carried an unyielding force.

“Does Your Highness’s opinion change now?” Ah Wu asked. No wonder Emperor Zhengyuan chose to rebel and ultimately massacre the capital; he had indeed created a new purgatory of his own making.

“Yes,” Chu Mao said, “Back then, we were too narrow-minded, thinking that ten or twenty years of darkness meant a lifetime of darkness.” Chu Mao lowered his head, took Ah Wu’s hand to his lips, and gently kissed it.

“Your Highness will surely see the light at the end of the tunnel,” Ah Wu said, squeezing Chu Mao’s hand in return.

Chu Mao paused. Ah Wu’s talk of the light at the end of the tunnel was probably not what he meant at all.

Ah Wu blinked her blurry eyes, a sense of foreboding creeping into her heart. Could it be that the darkness Prince Qi spoke of was not referring to imperial power? Whether in her past life or this one, Ah Wu had been born with endless love—from her parents, her brothers and sisters-in-law, and Junyan—so she had never felt that love was something unattainable. Even Prince Qi was an accomplice in this evil.

Therefore, Ah Wu could not connect Chu Mao’s words with the human heart. Children in the capital understood the allure of power better than people elsewhere, and Ah Wu was no exception.

“It’s still early; let me carry you back to lie down for a while,” Chu Mao said, carrying Ah Wu back to the cabin before going downstairs himself.

Having traveled from the large ship to land and then to another boat, Chu Mao had shown Ah Wu the beautiful scenery of Jiangnan before finally returning to Huai’an Prefecture.

Ah Wu, who had forced a smile the whole way, finally breathed a sigh of relief upon returning to Qiao Garden and no longer having to face Chu Mao every day.

Zi-Jin brought up tea and, seeing Ah Wu’s somewhat melancholy, could not help but say, “Your Highness treats the Princess so well. Even when you are out on official business, you do not forget to take the Princess out for a stroll. I’ve never been on a ship at sea before.”

Having spent more time together, Zi-Jin’s lively nature had gradually emerged, and she spoke to Ah Wu much more casually.

However, Zi-Jin’s words only made Ah Wu frown. Chu Mao was always good at saving face, praising her highly in public, but behind her back, he had not been close to her for a long time. In this matter, he seemed like a completely different person, or perhaps he had not changed at all, simply reverting to the Prince Qi he was when they first got married.

Ah Wu rubbed her temples. This kind of thing was troublesome whether it was there or not. Frustrated, she took a sip of tea. “Why is it so hot?”

Zi-Jin hurriedly said, “This servant will go get another cup.” Turning to leave, she saw Zi-Yi, who had just delivered something to Dong Rumei, and could not help but secretly ask, “Sister Zi-Yi, did the Princess and the Prince have a falling out?”

Zi-Yi gestured for her to be quiet, pulling Zi-Jin aside and lowering her voice, “Do not talk about your mistress behind her back. If the Prince finds out, it will be terrible. Just remember, we only have one mistress, and that’s the Princess.”

“But the Prince is so good to the Princess,” Zi-Jin argued for Chu Mao. She was still young and only felt that, although Prince Qi had many concubines, he only ever had the Princess. In Zi-Jin’s heart, this was already extremely good, especially since Prince Qi was always so warm and gentle towards the Princess. Compared to her father’s yelling and shouting at her mother, it was a world of difference. Zi-Jin sighed, feeling a sense of unease, as if Ah Wu was unaware of her good fortune. She was also deeply worried that Prince Qi might no longer favor her mistress.

“What does she know at such a young age?” Zi-Yi did not want to say more to Zi-Jin; some things were better left for the girl to figure out herself. Zi-Yi had already noticed the quarrel between Ah Wu and Chu Mao; the clean bedsheets she changed every day were proof enough. But these were matters she should not concern herself with, so she kept them to herself.

Zi-Yi entered the room and asked Ah Wu, who replied, “Did anything happen while we were gone for the past two weeks?”

“No, only that Master Lin from Qinghe Garden came a few times, but could not wait for His Highness, so he sat for a while and left,” Zi-Yi said.

Ah Wu slightly tilted her head. Lin Shengzhen could not possibly not know Chu Mao’s whereabouts, so why would he come to Qiao Garden several times?

“What about Young Lady Dong?” Although Dong Rumei was sent in to serve Chu Mao, who could be certain she was not someone’s spy? Naturally, Ah Wu had someone keep an eye on Dong Rumei.

“During the Princess’s absence, I heard she has not left the house and has not seen anyone,” Zi-Yi told Ah Wu, relaying the information she had gathered.

“What about when Master Lin came?” Ah Wu asked.

Zi-Yi’s heart skipped a beat. “This was my oversight. I will come to serve you again tonight, Master.”

Ah Wu nodded.

That evening, Zi-Yi returned to report that Dong Rumei had not left the house when Lin Shengzhen arrived. This attempt to distance herself only fueled Ah Wu’s suspicions. She was sent by Lin Shengzhen, yet now she was avoiding him, not even offering a greeting.

When Chu Mao returned, Ah Wu briefly mentioned Dong Rumei, and he said, “Dong Rumei’s current reputation owes a great deal to Lin Shengzhen.”

Ah Wu sighed, “He really knows how to give.”

Chu Mao remained noncommittal, but his expression suggested indifference. Prince Qi was used to such gifts of courtesans; his villa in the capital housed many such women.

“The errands here are almost finished. We can head back to the capital in a few days. You’ve finished your health-preserving pills, have you not? We can ask Zou Mingshan to make you a few more when we get back,” Chu Mao said.

“It’s fine if I do not take them. I feel quite robust,” Ah Wu said, but inwardly she thought that after that night at sea, he had tormented her so much, and she had not even fallen ill—was she not incredibly robust?

Chu Mao pinched Ah Wu’s nose. “Who do you think is always so useless, panting and begging for mercy after just a few strokes?”

Ah Wu blushed and retorted angrily, “Was that only a few strokes?”

“Next time, you can count.” Chu Mao chuckled, pulling Ah Wu into his arms and kissing her.

Given the steamy and suggestive conversation before bed, Ah Wu assumed Chu Mao’s tantrum was over. But that night, he held her, still making no move. Ah Wu did not suspect Chu Mao had a new lover, but she worried she might have offended him somehow. His attitude towards her was so natural, leaving Ah Wu completely confused, so she simply gave up trying to guess.

The next day, Ah Wu started having Zi-Yi and Zi-Jin slowly pack her luggage. She had bought a lot of things along the way from north to south, and packing them all would take a day or two.

Afterwards, Ah Wu began to consider arrangements for Dong Rumei. Judging from Chu Mao’s tone, he had no intention of taking Dong Rumei with him, so Ah Wu had someone invite Dong Rumei over.

“Young Lady Dong, the Prince and I are about to return to the capital. What are your plans? You can tell me in the next few days; it’s a way of showing that we’ve gotten to know each other,” Ah Wu said. Dong Rumei’s well-behaved behavior these past few days made Ah Wu feel even more pity for her.

Dong Rumei hesitated for a moment before bowing her head and saying, “Thank you, Madam.”

Ah Wu felt that Dong Rumei lacked the glamorous aura of a famous courtesan from Jiangnan; instead, she possessed a certain weariness, which was now even more pronounced. However, Ah Wu was busy and had no time to learn about Dong Rumei’s story.

The day of returning to the capital was fast approaching, but Ah Wu belatedly thought of visiting Huai’an Prefecture. Along the way, she heard people say that the Guanyin Temple in Huai’an was most efficacious for granting children, and that some women had even traveled from the capital specifically to burn incense.

Ah Wu’s heart stirred. Burning incense was no trouble at all; what if it really worked?

Today was not Guanyin’s birthday, nor was there a temple fair, yet the Guanyin temple in Huai’an was filled with women burning incense.

Ah Wu prayed sincerely before the Bodhisattva, nervously shaking the divination tube. A stick fell, and when she went to interpret it, it was a medium-to-lower fortune: “What is destined to be yours will be yours; what is not, you cannot force.”

This was probably the worst fortune imaginable, and Ah Wu felt increasingly agitated. As she stepped outside, she saw several slick-haired young men loitering around a tofu pudding stall.

One of them even reached out and touched the chin of the woman buying tofu pudding, laughing and joking. Though she could not hear what they were saying, their expressions clearly indicated something unpleasant. The woman tried to dodge, but the thugs pressed closer, and the other vendors dared not intervene.

Just then, someone else reached out and touched the woman’s chest. Ah Wu heard the man shout in a lewd voice, “Such big breasts! Let me have a good time with them!”

Ah Wu gave Zi-Jin a wink. Zi-Jin, who had been itching to do something after witnessing the scene, had not even made a move yet when the woman, who had been making tofu pudding, sidestepped and splashed a pot of steaming hot tofu pudding onto the thugs, scalding them and causing them to scream in pain.

One of the thugs kicked the woman to the ground, yelling, “You harlot, how dare you scald me! I will teach you to scald me! I will teach you to scald me!”

The thug raised his foot to kick her again, but Zi-Jin stopped him.

By this time, Ah Wu had already boarded the carriage, resting her chin on her hand, waiting for Zi-Jin’s return.

Just as Ah Wu was growing slightly impatient, Zi-Jin led the woman over and reported from outside the carriage, “Madam, this woman has come specifically to thank you.”

“This humble woman thanks you for saving me, Madam. I have no way to repay you but to kowtow three times in gratitude.” A moment later, Ah Wu heard three resounding thuds.

“You’ve kowtowed enough. You can go now. You do not need to worry about those thugs anymore.” Since Ah Wu had helped her, she did not mind helping her to the end; otherwise, those people would surely seek revenge after they left.

The woman was taken aback, not expecting that the lady in the carriage could dispel her concerns. She then kowtowed several more times, and only after the coachman had loosened the reins did she raise her head.

As the carriage passed the woman, Ah Wu caught a glimpse of her face, hidden beneath an oilcloth hat, through the gap in the curtain. “Stop the carriage.”