Xie Heng was heavily drunk now. In his foggy mind, he stubbornly believed that if Yun didn’t agree to be with him tonight, it meant she still intended to pursue an official position. And if she wanted to pursue that official position, she would inevitably leave him.
In short, if Yun refused to be with him tonight, it meant she wanted to leave him.
He hurriedly kissed her, desperately trying to use this act to test whether she truly intended to leave him.
However, Yun turned her face away, pressing her hand against his falling lips. “Xie Heng, you’re drunk.”
Not like this.
Yun always called him her husband.
And she never refused his kisses.
Xie Heng’s heart seemed to be struck hard from within, panic spreading thoroughly: his suspicion was correct—Yun really wanted to leave him again.
A sudden flame flared in his heart. He grabbed the wrist that was blocking his lips, forcibly removing it.
He was stronger than before, able to easily hold down both of her slender wrists with one hand.
“Wife, why… do you never firmly choose me?”
Why was he never the most important one in her heart?
Last time, to protect Shen Youran’s reputation, she told his eldest brother that she wanted to divorce him.
Though at that time they weren’t truly husband and wife, they had lived under the same roof for quite some time, even kissed, embraced, and shared many intimate moments. Yet when she proposed divorce, her face was calm, showing no reluctance or attachment to him.
If his position in her heart couldn’t even compare to that of her third younger sister, then now—could it be that even an official position was more important than him?
Why would she never choose him?
Xie Heng pinned Shen Yunshu’s hands above her head and captured her chin with his other hand. She saw the shadow gradually darkening his refined and elegant face as he leaned down.
“Wife, how much do you really like me?”
“I…” Shen Yunshu opened her mouth but was at a loss for words, seeing the grievance and redness in his eyes.
She should like him, otherwise she wouldn’t soften time and again, allowing him to take advantage repeatedly.
But how much she liked him—she couldn’t say clearly.
She put him below her third sister, below the Shen family; her affection for him was honestly not as full as his for her.
Unable to get an answer, he could only see a pair of watery eyes hesitating beneath him, gradually tainted with guilt and resolve.
Xie Heng let out a self-mocking laugh, then, drunk, forcefully pushed into her mouth.
They had kissed many times before, and Shen Yunshu often thought secretly that his kissing technique was excellent, as if instinctive, able to hold her in a kiss for a long time without boredom.
But this time, the kiss was completely unrestrained—rough and urgent, lacking the usual gentle tenderness.
His breath was crushed by him, mixed with the scent of wine invading her mouth. Because of the haste, their lips and teeth clashed, causing her pain, and a coppery sweetness filled her mouth.
She tried to tell him to stop, but her lips and tongue were captured, unable to make a sound except for muffled moans.
Entangled, he rolled with her to the innermost part of the bed.
The room had a warm stove burning, and the floor dragon was also lit, yet cold chills ran through Shen Yunshu’s body. She thought that if he continued losing control, it would be hard to stop. When he finally released her lips and kissed downward, she quietly urged him, “Xie Heng, don’t do this. When you sober up, we can talk properly…”
“Talk properly?”
He let out a low grunt, refusing to listen: she was leaving him, so what was there left to talk about?
Angrily, Xie Heng bit her delicate collarbone. Hearing her low cry of pain, he hurriedly loosened his bite—after all, he still couldn’t bear to truly hurt her.
He gave up on her collarbone, turning instead to the even more tempting parts waiting for his attention.
Seeing that he not only ignored her words but was seriously busy with her body, biting and removing the obstructing clothes one by one,
The three-layered skirt of clear mountain hues flew in the air, falling onto the bed among the messy pile of clothes.
Even though he already knew her beautiful figure, Xie Heng was momentarily dazed at this moment.
Her loose hairpin piled at the nape of her neck, black hair like clouds, making her skin appear even paler than snow, tinged faintly with blush from her shyness.
Snapping back to himself, he lowered his head eagerly to please her.
This way of pleasing was learned from the books she had gifted him.
Although those few books tormented him with wicked desires back then, now he was grateful for them because they taught him many joys of married life.
For example, not only could a wife please her husband, but a husband could also please his wife.
Shen Yunshu’s two hands were finally freed, originally wrapped naked around him. However, in the next moment, a strange sensation spiraled upward from where his lips had left, causing her to shiver.
A soft moan slipped from her lips. She propped herself up to look, but all she could see was the dark crown of his hair.
Unable to push him away or break free, she could only lie down weakly, biting her lips and futilely clutching the quilt beneath her.
Her long, fair neck stretched into a straight line. Her clear and beautiful brows were veiled by a layer of haze, like a lake shrouded in morning mist, rippling with shallow waves as her passion stirred.
Xie Heng finally released her and returned to her gaze.
Shen Yunshu looked up at him, her hands lightly pressed against his chest—not so much pushing him away—
His lips were wet, his eyes moist, the corners reddened, drunken haze dimming his sight.
The fierce look just now vanished without a trace. He changed, licking the honey-like shine from his lips, leaning down to plead, “Wife, please give me.”
In her daze, Shen Yunshu recalled how every time he got her to break her principles, he used the same method.
Like that time she showed him many illicit books. After reading them, his heart burned with desire, and he stormed into her bed, pulling her hands forcefully while pleading miserably, “Please, sister, take pity on me…”
Or that time she brought up divorce, and for a moment he drooped his head in agreement, only to suddenly kiss her, refusing the divorce and from that day on calling her “Wife.”
He obviously knew this was his trump card—once he used this tactic, it was hard for her to refuse.
Indeed, this time was no different. Maybe it was the redness in his eyes that made him look pitiful, or the wine that deepened his gaze, or how desperately he had just tried to please her, letting her feel how scared he was of losing her.
Once again, she softened.
And she knew clearly that he was drunk and unsteady, so even if she refused, he couldn’t force himself on her.
She didn’t want their precious moment to be something forced.
So, even though after tonight the emperor would doubt her more, and palace rumors would spread, she still slowly withdrew her hand from his body, slipped the hairpin from her hair, and threw it away. Then, she hooked her arm around his neck,
pulled him down, and lightly pressed a kiss onto his lips.
His expression froze, then joy burst forth from his eyes. The moment her lips left his, his big hand dove into her soft black hair, clutching it and kissing her fiercely.
It was like a person wandering the desert for a long time, nearly collapsing under the scorching sun, finally spotting a clear spring—losing all rationality and composure, desperate to soak in its coolness, afraid it would vanish the next moment.
This was completely different from what Shen Yunshu had imagined.
The man who just begged her with red eyes and a low voice suddenly became so fierce.
While studying at the Pei family, Shen Yunshu heard the tutor praise him for exceptional intelligence, saying that as long as he focused, he could understand thoroughly and integrate knowledge.
She had shown him those books a long time ago and then stopped making him read them. She never expected he remembered so well and could use that knowledge so skillfully.
He was still so young, with amazing endurance, seemingly tireless.
The one begging now was her.
Suddenly, he stopped.
Shen Yunshu thought it was over, but then she heard him say, “Sorry, wife, I forgot, I’m much heavier than you. It must be uncomfortable pressing on you like this…”
Then he hugged her tighter, flipped over, reversing their positions. But he didn’t let her down. Instead, one hand pressed on her soft waist, the other clasped the nape of her neck, pulling her to rest her head in his shoulder hollow, listening to her delicate, broken sobs forced out by him…
Shen Yunshu, dignified and reserved for nearly twenty years, never thought she would lose her composure to this little wolf dog.
She sweat a lot, her neck and arms drenched in fine perspiration.
He was the same—breathing moist, his body sticky, yet stubbornly holding her, unwilling to part.
She tried to shift away, but he only hugged her tighter.
“I won’t. I want you to bear my children.” It was as if the tighter he held her, the greater the chance she would become pregnant.
He refused to let go. Unable to move, Shen Yunshu grabbed a nearby quilt and covered their bodies.
Exhausted to the extreme but unable to move, she soon fell asleep.
In her fading consciousness, she still worried about their entangled bodies not separating, so she forced herself to stay awake and urged him once more, “Go fetch water, okay?”
This time, he finally moved, wrapping his arm around her waist and sitting up.
Shen Yunshu was forced to sit with him, her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders.
But then he stopped moving again. His large hand caressed circles on her waist.
She gradually sensed something was wrong. Nothing was right inside her body, something was wrong with being with him.
Her sleepy eyes snapped wide open. Shen Yunshu forced herself upright to look at him. “You…”
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