Chapter 34 All are treasures

Fu Heng looked up from his desk, his long, narrow eyes slightly upturned, a fleeting hint of surprise flashing across his cold, dark eyes. Feigning ignorance, he asked, "Why are you here at this hour?"

Meng Qingci gave him a reproachful look with her affectionate eyes, her eyes crinkling with a smile: "You don't welcome me?"

Fu Heng: "How could that be!"

He used to think of her as pure and ethereal, untouched by worldly charm, like a lotus sculpted from ice and snow, possessing an inviolable divine beauty. He wanted to pluck her from the vine and drag her into the mire of worldly life with him.

I have never seen her like this before; she is like a bewitching enchantress blooming in the dark night, or a sprite that suddenly appears in the forest.

Her clear, bright eyes shimmered with tears, their subtle shifts seemingly holding a silent hook. With just a glance, they seemed capable of capturing his entire heart. The tender affection in her gaze was almost overflowing, sweet as honey, soft as a cloud. One look was enough to make his heart burn and his breath catch in his throat.

But the next moment, his thoughts shifted abruptly: she had walked through the courtyard in this very manner, her slender waist swaying gently, her lotus steps graceful. Countless servants had witnessed this. Fu Heng's eyes darkened, a surge of malice rising within him, almost as if he wanted to gouge out every single eye that had seen her.

He even entertained a despicable thought: he wanted to hide her away, lock her in a secluded tower, so that only he could see and touch her. Her charm, her allure, her flamboyant style—they should belong to him alone.

Yet, fearing that she would despise him even more, he forced himself to suppress the filth in his heart, his emotions churning with mixed feelings.

He was naturally delighted by her rare initiative and thoughtfulness. But beneath this joy, a layer of obscure bitterness arose: how much of her kindness was genuine, and how much was feigned?

Even though he used a kind of incense, she still resisted him. Since returning from the Great Buddha Temple, she seemed docile, but in reality, she was depressed.

She is now taking the initiative to curry favor with him only because she needs something from him, and what she wants is his power and wealth, not him as a person.

Thinking of this, Fu Heng couldn't help but grip the pen in his hand, his knuckles turning slightly white, but he still couldn't take his eyes off her, his gaze lingering on her, consciously indulging in her radiance, willingly falling into her seemingly gentle embrace.

In the blink of an eye, Meng Qingci had strolled to his large desk, leaning half her body lazily against the pile of official documents. With a deft lift of her round fan embroidered with crabapple blossoms in spring, she hooked Fu Heng's chin. Her voice held a hint of coquettish reproach as she questioned, "Really? I feel like you're worried about me spending your money? What, you're already tired of me?"

Her slightly open robe, due to her forward-leaning posture, revealed a glimpse of skin as white as snow under the moonlight, the edge of her emerald green bodice faintly visible. Fu Heng's eyes suddenly darkened, and his breathing became noticeably heavier.

He grabbed her wrist, the one holding the fan, his voice tinged with a hint of jealousy: "Ha, I've given you my heart, and you still owe me a measly amount of money." His fingertips caressed the delicate skin of her wrist, but his tone was domineering: "The Zhu family, when have I ever taken them seriously?"

Meng Qingci raised an eyebrow, giving him a flirtatious glance, and with a deft flick of her wrist, tapped his chest lightly with her fan: "You men always talk a good game. It's fine for now, but you'll eventually have to marry a proper wife. You know my temperament—" she drew out, her voice carrying a hint of nonchalant threat, "A man who's been defiled can forget about ever sleeping in my bed again."

Since following Fu Heng, she had never asked about these things. Her bringing them up today, however, warmed Fu Heng's heart. His gaze was intense, his tone resolute: "I've only ever had you. How could there be anyone else?"

He paused slightly, his voice softening, "Please wait a little longer, I've already sent people to find your family. If that doesn't work, I'll at least give you a respectable status." He tightened his grip on his fingertips, saying each word clearly, "My woman, Fu Heng's woman, will never let you suffer any injustice."

He reached out to pull her into his arms, but Meng Qingci giggled and turned away. She leaned against the table opposite him, glancing at him with a half-smile: "It is indeed a grievance. I followed you without a matchmaker or betrothal, do you know how awful the people outside are saying?"

Meng Qingci secretly thought to himself, "So that's what he was planning. If it were an ordinary girl, she would probably have been moved by his 'deep affection' long ago."

"This was my oversight," Fu Heng stammered, feeling guilty. He then summoned Mo Jian and instructed, "Investigate. I want to see who dares to gossip about the Governor's Office."

Mo Jian bowed and clasped his hands, respectfully replying, "Yes." He didn't dare to raise his head from beginning to end, quietly retreating and gently closing the door behind him.

Fu Heng pursed his thin lips, his ears turning a rare blush, yet he still stubbornly argued, "Just consider this a one-time act of kindness. What man in the world could remain unmoved by your presence?"

Meng Qingci snorted coldly, lightly tapping the brightly colored list on the table with her fan. It was a detailed list of the Zhu family's properties: "That sounds nice, but when will you send someone to do it for me?"

Fu Heng leaned back in his armchair, staring at her with a deep, dark gaze: "You actually came to plead for me for someone who has nothing to do with you. Is it worth it?"

The fan landed lightly on his shoulder, and she scolded him playfully, "I'm happy to do a good deed every day. If you're stingy, just tell me."

“Since I came to Minzhou, have I ever been stingy with you?” Fu Heng sighed, a dark light appearing in his eyes: “I did this for you, so you should do me a good deed and give me some reward.”

Meng Qingci leaped lightly and sat on the edge of his desk, her skirt blooming like a flower. She leaned down and chuckled, her voice so sweet it could drip water: "Old man, you're really cunning, always trying to coax me with sweet words. What do you want? Tell me."

Fu Heng's eyes were deep and his voice was low: "I heard from the people in the old mansion that you used to love dancing the most, and even the Crown Prince was captivated by your dance. But since you came with me, I have never seen you dance even once."

"Your entertaining skills are nothing special." Meng Qingci scoffed, her beautiful eyes glancing at him seductively. "You're even jealous of this old stuff? Fine, I'll let you have your way today."

As she spoke, Meng Qingci nimbly leaped off his desk. With a light touch of her toes, she gracefully began to dance, her figure as supple and strong as a willow swaying in the spring breeze.

Fu Heng couldn't help but recall that day at the Princess's residence, when he saw Meng Qingci dancing gracefully from afar on the bridge, and knew that her waist was extremely supple. Later, in the bedchamber, that slender, soft form drove him mad. Little did he know that she could sway her waist with such alluring grace and seductive charm.

Yet they were completely different. That day, her dance was grand and majestic, combining strength and grace, like a general going to war, sweeping away all inhibitions and stirring the heart; but now, every frown, every smile, every turn, every glance, transformed into a silent allure, like a dark orchid quietly blooming in the night. Her eyes, as they moved, seemed to be telling a story, an invitation, silent yet burning his blood to the brink of boiling.

Fu Heng felt a sudden tingling sensation in his fingertips on his knee, and he unconsciously clenched his fist.

Her arousal was so intense that he could no longer restrain himself and suddenly stood up, causing the armchair to tip backward with a crash, but he paid no heed.

He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her slender waist, and held her tightly in his embrace. He then lowered his head and kissed her two delicate, red lips.

Her response drove Fu Heng to a frenzy, nearly causing him to lose control. He abruptly pulled away before he succumbed, his dark eyes churning with desire and longing.

Meng Qingci had already unfastened his jade belt, and her soft, boneless hands lingered on his strong, muscular waist and abdomen, causing Fu Heng to gasp and grab her mischievous little hands.

He gazed at the beautiful woman in his arms, her face flushed and her eyes dreamy, a complex and unreadable expression on his face. This delicate flower, which he had nurtured with his heart and soul, was now blooming even more beautifully because of his affection.

Meng Qingci added a touch of crimson to her lips, as if a sweet aftertaste lingered, and teased him in a soft, coquettish voice, "What's wrong? Have you changed your mind now and are you going to be a saint?"

Fu Heng was torn by inner turmoil. It was clearly her who had taken the initiative to be intimate with him, not him who had forced her. How could he bear to let go now?

However, if she were to turn on him and blame him afterward, or demand contraceptive soup, he didn't know how much effort it would take to coax this little devil back. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he said with difficulty in a low voice, "I... haven't prepared contraceptive soup today."

Meng Qingci reached out a slender arm to hook around his neck, and gently pressed her other hand against his chest. She lowered her eyes and whispered, "In the past, I was ashamed of being a servant, and I was afraid that if I had a child, I would be inferior to others, so naturally I was unwilling. But since you have already promised me the position of your principal wife, why do you need to avoid having a child?"

"Really?" Fu Heng's heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but tighten his grip on her wrist, his voice trembling with disbelief: "You really want to... have children for me?"

Meng Qingci scoffed, glancing sideways at him: "Who can guarantee it will be a son?"

Fu Heng hurriedly said, "No... it's not that I necessarily want a son. As long as it's your child, whether it's a boy or a girl, I will cherish them all."

A horse-drawn carriage sped towards them from outside Minzhou.

The maid in the carriage advised, "Miss, why are you in such a hurry? As long as the Prince is here, how could Lord Fu marry another woman?"

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Author's Note: Fu Heng: Hard work pays off.

Meng Qingci: Ah, let me let you have some fun for a while.

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Please add my next story, "Destiny," to your favorites!

Wang Yuanzhen saved Xiao Yan's life, but Xiao Yan repaid kindness with enmity, forcibly seizing his property.

As Xiao Yan lay dying from his severe injuries, he saw a woman, graceful in the light and shadow, wearing a jade lotus headdress with two flowing ribbons, and a Guanyin mole between her brows, like a celestial maiden descended to earth.

He should have repaid the debt of saving his life, but instead he committed despicable acts.

Mine clearance:

1. Classic melodramatic plot, 1v2, male lead is completely virgin, female lead is a delicate beauty × a ruthless hero.

2. A fictional, chaotic medley of events, with numerous warlords vying for power.

3. The trope of forcibly taking or seizing property.