Chapter 428: Chapter 412: Marriage
Fengyu practiced sword for an hour and was already feeling worn out—it was too cold! Every day, before the sun even rose, she was dragged out to climb hills. Fengyu thought she might become a wreck if this continued. But she had made a bet with Xie Xun: if she gave up halfway, the punishment would fall on Xie Xun—and he was far harsher on himself than she could bear. She couldn’t bring herself to let that happen, nor was it worth causing a fight over. Fengyu understood Xie Xun’s lingering concerns. In ten months, she’d turn eighteen, and before that, Xie Xun could never fully ease his mind.
Practicing sword amidst the swirling snow occasionally held a fleeting charm. If it were just one incense stick’s worth of time each day, Fengyu could manage. But an hour—an hour was truly too long.
So, during a sparring session with Xie Xun, her foot slipped, and she fell onto the snow-covered ground.
"Ah..." Her longsword slipped from her grasp, flew out, and landed in the snow.
"Ayu!" Xie Xun exclaimed, shocked as he quickly sheathed his sword and turned around. Squatting beside her, he helped her up. "Are you hurt from the fall?"
Fengyu lowered her gaze slightly, opened her palms. Her delicate fingers, untouched by ordinary chores, had developed thin calluses from frequent sword practice recently. Her palms, chilled by the cold, showed a slightly purplish hue beneath their red. Her fingers were more swollen than in summer. Though the courtyard ground had been swept clear of snow in anticipation of her training, the relentless snowstorm left behind a thin, slippery layer.
Her palms were reddened and raw. Yet Fengyu tilted her head upwards and smiled—a smile both obedient and pitiable. "It’s fine, just a minor injury. I can manage."
Xie Xun couldn’t resist her pitiful but brave expression. Though she didn’t voice her grievances, everything about her demeanor quietly cried out for compassion. Even knowing she was partly feigning, he sighed and stooped to carry her in his arms. "Enough—no more training!"
Fengyu smiled, burying her face into his chest. Even through their winter garments, she could hear his strong and steady heartbeat. Tilting her head, she watched Xie Xun’s cold and chiseled profile.
Zhixu had truly become someone who exuded authority without anger. The higher his rank and power, the harder it seemed for him to restrain his controlling tendencies.
After all, there were few people left in this world who could rein him in.
The courtyard ground wasn’t rough, and Fengyu’s fall hadn’t caused abrasions. Her fall left only some redness and swelling that would pass quickly. Her heart brimmed with joy—if this got her out of tomorrow’s hill climb, that would be perfect.
Her bedroom was warmer than most. Qiuxiang had started the brazier fire early. Xie Xun placed Fengyu on the luohan bed. Qiuxiang approached, intending to assist, but thought better of it. Over the years, she’d become very perceptive of such moments. After pouring the tea, she quietly retreated. Nowadays, all of Fengyu’s personal affairs were managed by Qiuxiang. Though Chunlu occasionally helped as well, most of Chunlu’s time was spent overseeing town matters or accompanying Manager Wen to the merchant guilds for business affairs. Thus, Qiuxiang handled virtually all matters within Fengyu’s inner circle.
Since Xie Xun arrived in West State, Qiuxiang had less often stayed in the main courtyard. She returned to assist Fengyu only after Xie Xun left.
Xie Xun helped Fengyu remove her winter cloak and took off his own outer garments, hanging them on the nearby clothing rack. Turning back, he saw Fengyu sitting on the luohan bed, furrowing her brows slightly as if uncomfortable, which made Xie Xun’s heart sink. "Where did you hurt yourself in the fall?" he asked, alarmed.
Fengyu especially feared the cold. Although she had worn many layers outside, her limbs were still chilled to the point of numbness. She hadn’t noticed before, but now she felt a sharp ache radiating from her ankle.
"I think I twisted it," Fengyu muttered, reaching down to touch her ankle. But Xie Xun had already sat beside her, lifted her foot, and removed her shoe and sock, tossing them carelessly to the side.
"Wait—" She hadn’t time to stop him. Her shoe and sock had already been removed, revealing her small, delicate, alabaster-white feet. Fengyu lived a pampered life—rarely setting foot outside unless traveling by carriage. Aside from those tough years away, her feet had always been meticulously cared for—soft, fair, with a faint blush of pink, truly exquisite.
It was rare for a woman’s feet to be seen by anyone besides her husband. Fengyu and Xie Xun had spent more time apart than together over these two years, and so their moments were often charged with tension. Despite their familiarity, Fengyu was still unused to his penetrating gaze. Her ears quickly became crimson, as if dripping with blood. She instinctively tried to pull her foot back, but Xie Xun held her ankle firmly. Focused, he examined her injury intently.
Fengyu looked at Xie Xun’s stern expression, slightly tinged with anger, and felt a pang of guilt.
The twenty-one-year-old Prince Qin and the eighteen-year-old young marquis might look alike, but their temperaments were worlds apart. The once bold and carefree marquis, whose mirth and ire came straight from the heart, had now become the reserved Prince Qin, whose emotions rarely surfaced, and whose authority and temper surged unrestrained. Few could influence him anymore; only Fengyu and Xie Jue saw glimpses of his former self.
Fengyu’s ankle was red and swollen, but fortunately, the bone wasn’t displaced.
Xie Xun summoned Qiuxiang, who brought a basin of hot water. He dipped a towel into the water, wrung it out, and gently covered Fengyu’s ankle with it. The heat made her flinch slightly, and Xie Xun briskly waved the towel to cool it down before reapplying it.
Fengyu tugged lightly on Xie Xun’s sleeve with her two fingers. "Are you angry?"
"No!" Xie Xun’s voice was stiff, clearly betraying his irritation.
Fengyu cupped his face in her hands. Xie Xun had extraordinarily beautiful eyes—deeply black, slightly upturned at the edges, naturally imbued with a hint of charm, but in his stillness, they projected an ineffable intimidation. Fengyu rubbed his face gently, then kissed his eyelid. "You’re lying—clearly you’re upset."
"Did you fall on purpose?" Xie Xun narrowed his eyes. "Just to avoid tomorrow’s hill climb, you deliberately injured yourself, didn’t you?"
"How unjust!" Fengyu protested softly, her breath carrying a delicate fragrance. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she shifted onto his lap. Xie Xun instinctively encircled her waist to steady her. Fengyu tilted her head and kissed his chin lightly. "I truly slipped accidentally. I’ve followed you up those hills for five days, facing biting winds and relentless snowstorms. Haven’t I done my part without complaint?"
Xie Xun knew she disliked early mornings, detested climbing in winter, and was sensitive to the cold. Yet all he wanted was to strengthen her health—a little more, just a little more. In his eagerness, he may have pushed her too hard.
He understood Fengyu’s resourcefulness; even when lying, she could sound utterly sincere. This mischievous girl was likely feigning. Lowering his head, Xie Xun bit her lip firmly.
Fengyu winced from pain but was quickly pulled tightly into his embrace, her movements pinned by his force. The towel for her ankle fell forgotten to the floor. She whimpered softly, reaching out to push him away.
But Xie Xun didn’t move—unyielding as a mountain. When his desire was finally sated, nearly fifteen minutes had passed. Fengyu’s clothes were disheveled, her hairpins had fallen onto the bed’s edge. She clung to him, panting heavily, her cheeks and ears flushed deep red, barely able to resist the overwhelming vigor of this fiery-blooded man.
"Enough..."
"Next year, we’ll marry." Xie Xun murmured huskily, his nose brushing against hers, his voice tinged with gravel, his eyes brimming with smoldering desire. With the tantalizing warmth of her body in his arms and nearly subdued by his impulses, he restrained himself with every ounce of willpower, stopping short of stripping her bare and claiming her upon the bed. The temptation grew harder to suppress. Once the mourning period was over, he’d marry her—immediately.
Fengyu didn’t truly wish to marry so soon. She wouldn’t live past eighteen; it was a declaration she had half-joked about but could never shake off. To marry next year... her parents, grandmother, and sister weren’t here. Without the blessings of family, wouldn’t it feel terribly incomplete? She had always yearned for a wedding filled with loved ones’ presence—their company, their joy.
"...Alright!" Yet she couldn’t bear to reject Xie Xun, nor did she have the heart to refuse him in his restless fear.