Chapter 70 The two are locked in a stalemate, unable to advance or retreat...
Zou Yueru has been busy mediating between her two younger sisters lately, and is exhausted. She leans weakly against the couch, a damp handkerchief covering her forehead.
"What should I say, cousin?" She prepared a feast for the two of them, hoping to help them reconcile.
The servant replied meekly, "Miss said she is not feeling well and needs to rest, so she cannot attend her banquet."
Zou Yueru cursed inwardly, "So concerned about saving face, she's suffering for it! Who was it that came running back crying a couple of days ago, saying that Sister Zhang didn't want her anymore!"
Wearing only her undergarments, she propped herself up and sat cross-legged on the couch, pulling the handkerchief from her face and throwing it into the basin. Turning her head, she asked, "What about Sister Zhang?"
The servant cautiously replied, "The maid who just delivered the message reports that Miss Zhang... also does not wish to come."
Zou Yueru sighed and collapsed weakly onto the couch. Oh well! The feast was ruined; she'd better eat by herself.
She just didn't understand. Zong Suyi's matter happened so many years ago, why was her cousin still holding a grudge? She was being incredibly petty. Besides, men are like clothes, women are like limbs; it's just a man, if Zhang Meimei likes him, she can have him, why was she still harboring resentment and causing a rift between sisters?
"Sister Zhang is such a smooth talker," Zou Yueru thought to herself. She'd been so serious back then, saying things like, "How can I settle down before I've achieved fame and fortune?" But only six months later, she was married and had concubines, enjoying a life of luxury.
Tch! Women, women say one thing but mean another. Zou Yueru just wanted to ask her, "Does her face hurt now?"
......
That day, Zhang Ting finished practicing calligraphy on the wall as usual, when suddenly her eyelids started twitching uncontrollably, and she even sneezed. Puzzled, she touched the tip of her nose. Who was talking about her?
She shook her head, rubbed her aching wrists, and sat down at her desk to read, following her plan. She still had a policy essay to write later.
Just then, the study door was gently pushed open, and a figure quietly slipped in.
This commotion couldn't be kept from Zhang Ting. She raised an eyebrow, her indifferent eyes shifting from the book. "What is it?"
Zong Suyi entered wearing a light, plain white gauze robe. A hint of melancholy appeared between his brows, and his eyes were moist, as if he had suffered some injustice. His lips were pursed, and the corners of his lips turned down uncontrollably. He quickly came over and threw himself into Zhang Ting's arms.
Zhang Ting moved her chair slightly, caught him firmly, and sat him on her lap.
Zong Suyi wrapped his arms around her neck, leaned against her chest, lowered his eyes, and his eyelashes were wet and stuck together, like butterfly wings wet by rain. He said apologetically, "It's all my fault that my wife and her sister have fallen out."
Zhang Ting raised her hand and touched the beauty mark under his eye, then pinched his slightly red and delicate nose.
She cries easily.
Seeing his brows furrow slightly, Zhang Ting knew when to stop and immediately let go to avoid being beaten again. She hugged his slender waist and whispered in his ear, "It's alright, no sister is more important than my husband." Her eyes were fixed on his round, full earlobe, and she couldn't resist picking it up and rubbing it between her teeth.
Hearing Zhang Ting's reply, Zong Suyi was secretly delighted, and the gloom between his brows instantly vanished. Zhang Ting really didn't blame him for that ugly thing!
But the next moment, hot breath blew into his ear, and a wet, stinging sensation came from his right ear. His body trembled sensitively, and he became a little excited, pressing his body against hers even more passionately.
"But I feel guilty." He removed his hands from her neck, took her hands and placed them on his chest, his fingertips lightly brushing against her palms. His delicate brows furrowed slightly, revealing a hint of grievance. He licked his rosy lips, his beautiful eyes fixed on her, his heart full of unspoken feelings.
Zhang Ting suddenly felt a little thirsty, her voice slightly hoarse: "Oh? Why do you feel guilty?" she said casually, her gentle eyes smiling, her hand following his guidance to his chest, her fingertips passing through the intricate gauze, gently caressing the warm white jade.
Zong Suyi felt a tremor run down his spine. Only when he felt his fingertips repeatedly touching the cherry blossom did he realize that he had let a wolf into his house. He answered with difficulty, "It was because I acted recklessly in the past and offended many people. Now, now I have caused my wife to suffer." Tears welled up in his eyes again, and he trembled with sadness. A hidden pain rose in his chest, and he sobbed softly.
Zhang Ting stared intently at his face, her cheeks flushed from crying, her thin lips slightly parted, looking utterly pitiful. With her right hand, she wiped away his tears, saying tenderly, "I just love how spoiled and willful you are, my dear husband." But her other hand went even further, grinding her hand hard, causing him to cry out in pain.
She pressed her cheek against his and said gently, "Since Zhang Ting married you, he would never hurt you." After a while, she smiled and said, "Look at you, you've made me unable to finish my policy essay before evening again."
"Before you came, did you think about how to make it up to your wife?" she whispered in his ear. The thin gauze was open, and the coolness from the ice basin made her skin shiver. The loose ribbons swayed in the air. Her fingertips went down, and she suddenly realized, "Why wear a white gauze dress? I guess you've thought about it."
"I didn't," Zong Suyi stammered. The warm, secret touch on his chest faded, and a sense of loss and reluctance rose in his heart. Suddenly, his lower body was captured, and his body trembled violently. He covered his mouth and gasped, his face filled with panic. He held her hands tightly, tears welling in his eyes, and said pitifully, "You...you can't do this."
"Why not? Isn't this a gift from my lord?" She solemnly removed the gift's wrapping and even held it in her hand, playing with it. Zong Suyi couldn't believe her bluntness. He bit his lip, his face filled with shame and indignation. He hurriedly stopped her, crying and choking back tears as he berated Zhang Ting for being shameless. "Put it down! Don't touch it! It's his!"
Zhang Ting bound him with her other hand, a wicked smile playing on her lips. Her actions became even more provocative, coldly telling him, "My lord, do not be naughty. From the moment you married me, your body and soul belong to me alone. Not only does this vulgar thing not belong to you, but every inch of your body should rightfully be mine." Her arrogant and domineering behavior, her unrestrained words, and the fact that she was doing this in the dignified and solemn study deeply tormented Zong Suyi's body and soul, filling him with shame. At this moment, he was weak and limp, sobbing against her, enduring the torment that came and went like a floating duckweed.
Zong Suyi tightly covered his mouth to prevent any broken moans from escaping, his heart filled with remorse. He had only come here to ascertain Zhang Ting's attitude towards him, or to try and figure her out a little more. How had he ended up sacrificing himself again, even offering himself up to be taken advantage of by her?
Zhang Ting forcefully pulled his hand away, her eyes full of playful amusement. She pressed a kiss to his lips, saying, "Why isn't my lord speaking? I want to hear your voice." Her actions became even more wicked, forcing Zong Suyi to glare at her with a mixture of anger and allure in his dark eyes. He breathed heavily, and couldn't help but let out soft moans from his throat.
Only then did she realize what she had done. Zong Suyi, enraged and embarrassed, bit her shoulder, but the man didn't care at all. She breathed a sigh of relief, sweating profusely, and even brazenly commented on his earlier chanting: "My lord's voice is extremely beautiful, clear and bright like jade, smooth and melodious." However, while the first part of her words was serious, the last four words made Zong Suyi blush crimson. Remembering her earlier actions, she shyly buried her head in her neck. She hadn't really been talking about voice at all.
As the sun set, the study was quiet. A servant came from the courtyard outside to invite his master to dinner.
The two had just finished their debate, and despite the ice basin in the study, they were both drenched in sweat and panting heavily. Zhang Ting picked up a handkerchief to wipe her husband's dampness, but the rough handkerchief rubbed his skin red, causing him to tremble and cry out in pain. Zhang Ting looked closely and saw that his skin was swollen from rubbing.
Under the reproachful glare of the other party, Zhang Ting swallowed hard, awkwardly looked away, straightened his clothes without looking at him, stroked his black hair, and solemnly said, "Xiao Yi, I will never abandon you."
Zong Suyi pursed his lips, his dark eyes fixed on her, a pleased smile curving his lips. He leaned obediently against her and nodded.
Zhang Ting suddenly remembered something and earnestly instructed him, "Drink more water to replenish your energy when you get back."
Zong Suyi was puzzled: ?
But the next moment, his blood rushed to his head, and his face turned bright red.
...
Time flies like water, and two months have passed in the blink of an eye.
The seventh year of Chengtai, the twelfth month.
Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, scattering across the world. The Zhang residence was brightly decorated, with lanterns and colorful streamers commemorating the host's birthday.
On this day last year, Zhang Tingzheng was on the verge of death, but on this day this year, she has not only amassed a huge fortune and become famous in the prefecture, but has also become a disciple of a great Confucian scholar and married a virtuous and beautiful husband.
In just one year, their fates changed dramatically.
Zhang Ting, a thick fox fur cloak draped over her shoulders, reached out the window to catch snowflakes. The snowflakes melted instantly upon contact with her hand. She lowered her head slightly, her eyes darkening. A good snow promises a bountiful year; will next year be a peaceful one?
She looked up and gazed out the window again, and there was a slender, tall figure in the snow. He was wearing a dark brocade robe, holding a bowl steadily in one hand and carefully protecting the food in the bowl from the wind and snow with the other. He didn't bother to use an umbrella, and his shoulders and head were covered with white snowflakes.
A gentle light appeared in Zhang Ting's eyes. She flipped out the window with one hand and ran into the snow, lifting her cloak to shield him from the snow.
Why didn't you ask a servant to hold an umbrella for you?
Zong Suyi was completely focused on the bowl, afraid of spilling even a drop. Hearing this, he didn't even lift his eyelids and said, "I came as soon as I finished cooking, I didn't have time to call Xiaorong." The bowl was so hot that his fingertips hurt, and he urged him anxiously, "Hurry up! It's so hot." He felt like he was about to drop it.
Zhang Ting took the bowl of noodles from his hand without hesitation. After a moment, she realized what he had said, her pupils contracted like pinpoints, and she froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.
"Did you make these longevity noodles?"
"Yes!" Zong Suyi replied excitedly. This was his first time cooking. His fingers turned bright red from touching the cold water, and he sneezed, sneezing into Zhang Ting's arms. He rubbed his hands on her back to warm them, then happily hugged her tightly, taking a deep breath. He thought proudly to himself: Zhang Ting will definitely praise his superb cooking skills later!
Zhang Ting glanced at the noodles in the bowl in her hand. Apart from being uneven in thickness and the scallions being scalded to a dark green color, they looked fine. She secretly breathed a sigh of relief; these noodles looked edible.
Zong Suyi pushed Zhang Ting into the house and solicitously pulled out a stool for her to sit down.
He quickly sat down, resting his chin on his hands, his bright, moist eyes fixed on her, sparkling with anticipation as he said, "Try it!"
Zhang Ting smiled slightly at him, and under his excited gaze, picked up a noodle and put it in her mouth.
Zong Suyi held his breath, his eyes fixed on her, forgetting even to breathe.
As Zhang Ting chewed the noodles, the smile on her lips suddenly froze.
Looking into her husband's expectant eyes, she lowered her eyelids heavily, feeling for the first time in her life that she was caught in a dilemma.
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