The quiet of the early hours finally broke inside the warm, humid bamboo room. Zhì Yuǎn had not slept, spending the entire night lying still while feeling the weight of Yù Qíng on top of him—her leg thrown over his thighs and her hand spread across his chest, pinning him to the bed as if, even in sleep, she needed to be sure he would not leave.
Through the slits in the wall, a thin line of orange light began to appear on the horizon. Zhì Yuǎn turned his face toward the light and felt that the air was different, bringing not only the brightness but something denser and warmer that pulled his attention outward.
Syncing his breathing with the exact moment the first ray of sun cut through the old wood of the wall, he drew the air in slowly. The heat entered through his throat like hot water and descended straight into his chest, spreading through the channels he had forced open during the early hours. The pain was immediate and strong, as if something were stretching the internal walls of his body, making the muscles of his arms and chest tremble while the sweat covering his skin evaporated quickly against the mattress. Even so, he locked his jaw and continued drawing it in, guiding that heat toward the center of his chest.
Yù Qíng woke with the movement and blinked, still sleepy, sliding her hand over her husband's abdomen in concern as she felt the heat leaving his skin.
"You're burning…" she murmured, hoarse.
Zhì Yuǎn released the air slowly, controlling the tremor of his body.
"I tried to draw the air from outside," he answered, breathless. "The morning sun entered strong. It felt like boiling water inside."
Instead of pulling away, Yù Qíng pressed her cheek against his warm shoulder, inhaling the scent of sweat, and stayed quiet for a moment until the iron bell of the main house sounded far in the valley. She made a face at once and buried her face in her husband's chest.
"My father is already calling…" she grumbled. "The officials must have arrived."
Zhì Yuǎn ran his hand along her back.
"Let's go down, help him with the numbers, and come back soon," he said, calm. "The sooner we settle it, the faster we return here."
Yù Qíng let out a long sigh, but did not argue, for her husband's practical tone always managed to calm her irritation.
They left the protection of the bamboo grove and entered the first street of the village, drawing more looks the closer they got to the center. Near the stream, some women who were washing clothes let the sound of their beating on the stones gradually fade until it died away completely when they saw the two passing.
Yù Qíng felt the looks at once and gripped Zhì Yuǎn's arm harder, hunching her shoulders slightly as the whispers began right after, low, but clear enough for her to hear.
"...they disappeared into the woods again..."
"...doesn't even seem like they're really married..."
"...the father adopted him, and now..."
Her nails dug into the sleeve of Zhì Yuǎn's tunic and her jaw locked, turning her face to the opposite side of the women as if she could ignore the weight of those looks on her back. The discomfort was old, but it never stopped hurting, as if the entire village looked at her and saw something wrong—something dirty—when they saw the two together.
Zhì Yuǎn felt the change in her and stopped walking in the middle of the street. Without saying anything, he freed his own arm from her grip and passed his hand around Yù Qíng's waist, pulling her body against his side and placing her on the inside to shield her with his own body while turning his back to the washerwomen.
"Let them talk," he said low, near her head. "It changes nothing between us."
Yù Qíng hid her face in his tunic, breathing the scent of her husband, and only managed to relax a little after feeling the heat of his hand firm on her waist, allowing them to start walking again.
When they reached the main house, the courtyard was full of wagons and people, with a fat imperial official, dressed in purple silk, shouting orders from atop his horse and threatening to demand more sacks of coal because of moisture. Yù Qíng stopped at the edge of the courtyard and hid behind Zhì Yuǎn's broad back, gripping his tunic with both hands.
Zhì Yuǎn walked close to the official's horse, making the animal neigh and step back at once, unsettled by the heat leaving his body. The official had to lower the perfumed cloth he used to cover his nose, and Zhì Yuǎn pointed straight at the sacks.
"If there were real moisture, the bottom of the sacks would be dark," he said, with a flat voice. "The jute is dry, and this wagon is already carrying too much weight. If you put five more sacks, the axle will break on the road."
The official turned red with rage and raised the bamboo rod, ready to order the guards to beat him, but before he could speak, the wood of the wagon's rear axle creaked loudly, as if confirming Zhì Yuǎn's words.
The official froze in place and, after a few moments of awkward silence, lowered the rod, taking from the saddlebag a bamboo scroll sealed with red wax before throwing it at Yù Chéng's chest.
"Today's load passes," the official spat, pulling the reins. "But the war seal is delivered, old man. At the end of the month, the military official will come personally with the guard to collect the two thousand sacks. Not one less."
He shouted for the soldiers to mount the wagons and soon the entire convoy left the courtyard, leaving a heavy silence among the miners while Yù Chéng let out a sigh of relief and handed the stamped scroll to Zhì Yuǎn.
------
Later, during lunch with the family, Yù Méi said bluntly:
"Lihua stopped me today at the stream. She asked if it wasn't strange for sister to be married to the boy the father adopted. She said people always comment when you two disappear."
Silence fell over the table at once and Yù Qíng stopped eating, losing her appetite in the same instant while lowering her eyes to the bowl and slowly hunching her shoulders, squeezing the chopsticks until her knuckles turned white.
Zhì Yuǎn did not answer at once, only extending his hand under the table to place the warm palm on her thigh and squeeze firmly. After a few moments, he looked at Yù Méi and spoke with a calm voice:
"Tell her that if her husband knew how to fix the roof of the house instead of getting drunk in the square, she wouldn't have time to mind other people's business."
Yù Méi laughed loudly, breaking a little of the heavy mood. Yù Qíng remained quiet, but the pressure of Zhì Yuǎn's hand on her thigh helped calm the tightness in her chest, making her press her arm against his under the table, grateful for the silence he offered when she needed it most.
As soon as the plates were cleared, Yù Méi insisted on hearing the new music he had finished the day before and dragged her brother-in-law to the veranda. Zhì Yuǎn sat on the long wooden bench with Yù Qíng stuck to his side and her head resting on his shoulder, while the youngest settled on the floor right in front with the kitchen tally board on her lap.
When he brought the black bamboo flute to his lips and blew, the hot air held in his chest passed through the wood with a different weight, drawing a low, dense note that made the floorboards vibrate lightly under their feet. Yù Méi's eyes went wide, impressed by the sound.
As soon as he finished, she took the chance to push the sheet of notes closer to him, asking for help with the accounts she had gotten wrong the day before.
Zhì Yuǎn took the paper and began pointing out where the numbers were lost, explaining with patience to the girl. Beside him, however, Yù Qíng stayed quiet watching her sister's proximity, feeling a discomfort grow in her chest with every new question that held her husband's attention. Without warning, she turned on the bench and hugged Zhì Yuǎn's right arm with both hands, pressing her breasts directly against the arm he was using to hold the paper.
Zhì Yuǎn stopped speaking mid-sentence, looked at his wife's face, and understood the message at once, returning the sheet to his sister-in-law.
"That's enough for today," he said to Yù Méi, rising from the bench. "Let's go back."
Yù Qíng opened a satisfied smile as she said goodbye to the family, returning with him to the bamboo grove.
------
The clothes were removed slowly in the dark. Zhì Yuǎn laid Yù Qíng on the bed and lowered his mouth along her body without haste, lingering on the neck, the breasts, and the belly to lick the sweat of the day, until he finally opened her thighs and licked between her legs, making Yù Qíng seize the sheets while moving her hips against his mouth.
After a while, he rose and entered her with a heavy rhythm from the start. Each thrust made the straw of the mattress creak low while the sweat of both mixed in the warm air of the cabin.
Yù Qíng came for the first time with her legs squeezing his waist hard and her entire body trembling, but Zhì Yuǎn did not stop. He continued thrusting, changing the angle and holding her hips down while she was still sensitive, drawing a whimper from Yù Qíng as her nails dug into his back.
Without slowing the rhythm, he continued taking her with constant force for a long time, until Yù Qíng came a second time, stronger than the first, her body thrashing beneath him while she scratched her husband's back until it left red marks.
Even so, Zhì Yuǎn continued moving, changing the angle from time to time—sometimes slower, sometimes deeper—to prolong the contact. Yù Qíng was already breathless and limp, but since he had not yet reached his limit, she held on to him, moaning hoarsely every time he entered deep, until the third time took her by surprise—weaker and longer, making her entire body tremble.
Only after that did Zhì Yuǎn finally slow the rhythm.
Yù Qíng was completely exhausted, with a limp, heavy, and breathless body, barely able to move her legs. When he finally stopped and lay on his back, she collapsed onto his chest with her face buried in his neck, her body still trembling lightly with the remnants of pleasure and so tired she could barely keep her eyes open.
Zhì Yuǎn lay in silence, feeling the heat that still burned in his chest and the channels he had opened in the morning still inflamed, needing something to balance it. He looked at the slit in the wall, where the moon appeared in the sky, and tried to draw the cold air of the night as he had done with the sun, but it was too weak and almost made no difference.
Stopping the attempt, he lowered his gaze to Yù Qíng asleep on top of him and remembered the moment she had released that cold, dense moisture.
The night air was not enough to cool him, but his wife's body was.
Passing his hand along her back, he pulled her closer. Next time, he would not waste time with the moon. What came from her was enough.
Sweet dreams, my goddess. He thought as he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead.