Everyone Wants To Harm Me - Chapter 116

It wasn’t until the next morning that I remembered the matter still hadn’t been resolved.

“I am the head of the family,” Yu Chongrui said, putting on his clothes and jade crown, shaking out his sleeves. “I will decide on the matter of taking a concubine. What you two agreed on privately doesn’t count.”

Wasn’t it him who once said a man should consult his wife before taking a concubine?

“Then what do you plan to do?” I asked.

“Feng Yuan’s birthday is in October?” he replied. “Let’s talk about it next month.”

I relayed his reply to Feng Yuan, and she beamed with joy, holding her face in her hands. “Could it be that the young master wants to surprise me for my birthday?”

I hadn’t thought that was his intention…

Feng Yuan waited expectantly for next month’s outcome.

Two days later, Deng Zishe arrived at my house with a dark expression, throwing a pile of books in front of me and Yu Chongrui.

“You two have been married for a year and haven’t consummated your marriage yet? Hurry up!”

Were that many people really concerned about whether we’d consummated or not?

I glanced at the pile of books he’d thrown down. There were excerpts from Lingshu and Yixin Fang, which looked like proper medical texts. Then Essentials of the Jade Chamber, Secret Sutra—these seemed less proper. Dreams of the Floating World, Erotic Plays—were these popular fiction? And why was there a copy of The Tale of the Jade Gentleman?

I hadn’t read The Tale of the Jade Gentleman properly before. Now seemed like a good chance to find out what that cornelian cherry growing on a person really referred to.

Yu Chongrui asked, “What are you going to do with these books?”

“I’m afraid you don’t know how to do it, so I brought these to help you learn!”

I saw his ears turn red. “No need.”

“So you do know?” Deng Zishe looked at him with disdain. “If you do, why haven’t you consummated the marriage after a whole year?”

Yu Chongrui suppressed his blush and said seriously, “Qi Yao’s blood disease hasn’t recovered yet. I can’t let her take risks.”

“I knew you wouldn’t know how to do it,” Deng Zishe sneered. “The world isn’t black and white. Consummating marriage isn’t a matter of either/or. If you’re healthy, there are good ways to consummate it. If you’re not fully recovered, there are still ways to do it. Besides, she’s half recovered now, so why can’t you consummate it?”

Looking at his posture, I half expected him to push us both to the ground and force us to consummate the marriage on the spot.

I thought he was focusing on the wrong issue. Whether Yu Chongrui and I consummated our marriage or not didn’t stop Feng Yuan from marrying her young master as a concubine. She’d already planned to share a husband with the main wife. Ultimately, wasn’t it because he wasn’t strong enough to pry open the corner of the marriage?

Still, I didn’t speak up—because I was curious too: what exactly was this “half-recovered” way to consummate?

“If ordinary couples have something inconvenient at home or don’t want more children, will they not have sex because of it? There are naturally contraceptive methods,” Deng Zishe said with a tone of disappointment. “I’ll prepare an ointment for you that moisturizes, reduces injuries, stops bleeding, and helps muscles regenerate. You’ll be fine!”

“There’s such a powerful ointment that can reduce injuries?” Why hadn’t he told me earlier? “Prepare more for me so I don’t have to wrap myself in cloth strips when practicing sword!”

They both turned to look at me, their expressions subtle.

Later, the two of them found an excuse to send me away. But I understood—these private matters were better discussed man-to-man or woman-to-woman. Like how a mother usually taught her daughter before marriage, not the father or older brother.

I didn’t have a mother, my aunt had passed away, and there were no older married women I was familiar with… Should I write to the princess or Zhenniang? It didn’t seem appropriate to mention such things in a letter…

The princess often wrote to me, and in her letters, she rarely mentioned anything unpleasant but focused on herself and anecdotes from Luoyang. She’d taken a liking to a house in Yude Courtyard and planned to move there after the New Year once the renovations were finished. She wanted to live far away from the palace city.

There were two Jinshi from this year’s spring examination, both around her age and unmarried. She thought they were good matches. But when the third-place winner heard she was looking for a prince consort, he eloped with the innkeeper’s wife. The other one, after passing the imperial examination, went to the temple to fulfill a vow. The Bodhisattva instructed him not to marry before he turned forty, or his career and life would be ruined. If the princess insisted on marriage, he would convert to Buddhism and become a monk to avoid disaster. The princess didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and shared this with me as a joke.

Two months later, she wrote again, telling me angrily that both of these incidents were secretly orchestrated by Yu Dongting. He was a man who said one thing on the surface and another behind the scenes, full of malice. He’d bought the house next door to hers and harassed her regularly. He was shameless and infuriating.

It was the first time I’d seen the princess scold someone, and it was in a letter. You could tell how angry she was. I’d heard from Yu Chongrui that Prince Xin valued his distant cousin very much. At a young age, he was promoted to the third rank, advancing faster than Yu Chongrui himself. If not for his disfigured face, the Yu family might have produced another prime minister.

It was said that since Yu Dongting had been injured, losing one eye and vindicating his ancestors, his temperament had changed. He’d become a ruthless figure in the court, someone no one dared to provoke, though people still scolded him in private. Even the prefect Liu knew his bad reputation. Perhaps his nature had always been this way, but he’d been pretending to suppress it before. I thought the princess couldn’t escape his clutches…

I wasn’t sure what Deng Zishe had said to Yu Chongrui privately, but after more than half a month, there was still no movement from him. I didn’t even know where he’d put the pile of books Deng Zishe had brought. He only left two serious medical books for me to read.

I asked him indirectly, “Is the ointment Brother Deng said he would prepare for me ready? I’m waiting to practice sword with it.”

Sure enough, his ears turned red again, and he looked at me helplessly. “That can’t be used for sword practice.”

In truth, I also thought it was unreasonable. If I were hit on the forehead with a sword, would applying ointment beforehand help? It wasn’t like I was wearing iron armor.

“I know, it’s only for consummating marriage, right?” I teased, wrapping my arms around him. “The doctor said it’s fine…”

“It’s not fine. Even Deng Zishe can’t guarantee it’s completely safe. Other couples, even if they don’t want children, might still go through with it and deal with the consequences. But you…” He held me tightly. “I won’t let you take any risks. Not even a tiny one. I’ve already gone through that kind of heart-pounding fear three times. I don’t want to go through it again.”

I thought about it and realized it wasn’t worth risking my life for consummation. Besides, we could still sleep together at night and kiss during the day. If you rounded it up, we could kiss and hug all day, which was good enough.

“By the way, the Double Ninth Festival is coming soon, that…”

“Don’t even think about it!” He glared at me and lowered his head. “Go to bed!”

I hadn’t even finished my sentence! Why so fierce? All I wanted to say was—couldn’t I at least read a little bit of The Tale of the Jade Gentleman? If I couldn’t watch it in real life, couldn’t I at least read the book?

That year’s Double Ninth Festival, I finally climbed to the top of the hill in Yao Garden to enjoy the view. I rested four or five times along the way. Eventually, I couldn’t climb any further, and Yu Chongrui carried me up. Next year, I would definitely be able to climb it by myself.

When I tried to pin a sprig of cornelian cherry on his lapel, he looked at me oddly and took it off—then tucked it into my hair instead.

After the festival, Mother sent a letter from Piling. When I opened it, I saw a faint red stamp bleeding through the folded paper—it looked like some kind of silver contract.

“Are we short on money again? Did you ask the family for more?”

I managed the household finances then. I clearly remembered we still had a four-figure balance. Governor Liu sent monthly stipends, and we had cleared and cultivated over two hundred mu of terraced farmland on our thousand-qing estate—our expenses were covered.

“No.” Yu Chongrui unfolded the old, yellowed paper contract, revealing the contract in which Feng Yuan’s family sold her. I read through it and discovered that Feng Yuan’s original surname was Ji, and that Mother had purchased her for only thirty taels of silver.

He then pulled out a new house deed and a two-hundred-tael silver note from the drawer, called Feng Yuan over, and said, “Feng Yuan, you’ve been with my mother and me for fifteen years, and the favor from the past has long been repaid. With your intelligence and ability, you should not be just a maid serving tea and water. But I’ve been too busy to care for the family, and I’ve taken your loyalty for granted. I’ve wronged you. Now, I’ll return this contract of sale to you and let you be a proper young woman. From now on, you are no longer a slave. You’re free to go out, buy property, and get married.”

Feng Yuan looked at him, then at me, doubt clouding her eyes. “What do you mean? Master, are you driving me away? Is it because of me…?”

“I’m not driving you away.” Yu Chongrui pushed the house deed and the banknotes toward her. “Last year, when Zhongshu was here, I saw you both were passionate about brewing wine and wanted to make a living from it. This deed is for a shop in Yuanzhou City, with three rooms in the front and back. This money should be enough for you to open a small shop and build it up slowly. If selling wine is difficult, when Zishe’s clinic opens, you can help him treat injuries and make medicine. It will be a good thing. Would you be willing?”

Feng Yuan opened her mouth as if she had swallowed an entire egg, struggling to process it. “Young, young master, you mean to help me open a wine shop? I, I’ll be the boss lady?”

Yu Chongrui nodded.

Feng Yuan’s expression shifted rapidly. Her eyes sparkled with joy one moment, and the next, she frowned, unsure. She was torn between the young master and her love for wine. Which was better?

She couldn’t decide immediately.

After thinking it over for three days, she finally chose to open a wine shop and become the boss lady.

It turned out that wine had been Feng Yuan’s lifelong passion. For it, she could even give up her beloved young master…

Come to think of it, Feng Yuan had rarely mixed up idioms recently, thanks to Brother Zhongshu’s frequent letters since his move to Suzhou. The two exchanged experiences and brewing tips. At first, Feng Yuan asked me to read the letters for her. Later, Brother Zhongshu sent a wealth of wine recipes and books. To understand them, Feng Yuan even began practicing calligraphy. Despite Yu Chongrui’s efforts to encourage her to study for years, it turned out wine was far more captivating than books.

Feng Yuan had always been sharp and capable, and she learned quickly. Brewing wine became her greatest joy, and she worked tirelessly. Within a month, her shop was open. At first, she sold common market wine, then gradually began offering her own home-brewed varieties.

Deng Zishe opened a clinic next to Feng Yuan’s wine shop. Whenever he treated patients with injuries, Feng Yuan often stepped in to help with stitching them up.

She named her first batch of home-brewed wine Fengchun.

More than a decade later, Fengchun wine became a famous specialty of Yuanzhou, sought after in Jingchu and other regions. Even Brother Zhongshu opened a store in Suzhou to distribute it. Feng Yuan unexpectedly became the wealthiest among us. The capital Yu Chongrui had invested in her brought us generous dividends every year. I spent my days happily at home, collecting money—though, that was a later story.

In short, Yu Chongrui had been busy with projects, Feng Yuan was focused on her wine shop, Deng Zishe treated patients and chased after Feng Yuan, and I was occupied with… enjoying life—eating well, sleeping soundly, practicing swordsmanship, and healing my injuries. Everyone’s life had been full and satisfying.

Half a year passed like that.

One day, it was just another ordinary spring day. The weather was warming, time to switch to lighter summer clothes. I went to the silk shop to buy fabric, then stopped by Deng Zishe’s clinic to get my medicine, picking up a small pot of Feng Yuan’s new wine on the way.

When I got home, I tried to cook two dishes for Yu Chongrui, but one was undercooked, and the other was burnt, so I had to ask the cook to redo them.

When Yu Chongrui returned, dinner wasn’t ready.

I poured the wine I had brought from Feng Yuan and said, “Are you thirsty, husband? Try Feng Yuan’s new wine.”

Yu Chongrui suddenly grabbed my hand. “What’s wrong with your wrist? When did you get hurt?”

I turned it over and noticed a small scar on the inside of my wrist, about an inch long. It was probably from when I was busy cooking and hadn’t noticed where I’d scraped it. I hadn’t realized it until now.

But the most important thing was—it had already healed.

It was a thin, dark purple line, raised like a hard scar.

I froze for a moment and scratched at the blood scab with my fingernails.

“What are you doing?” Yu Chongrui quickly stopped me, but I had already scratched the wound, and blood began to seep out.

It was… dark red.

He immediately pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to the wound, shouting to the servant, “Go and get Doctor Deng!”

I could see how nervous he was—more than I was. He kept pressing on the wound, and my hand grew numb from his grip. He didn’t let go until Deng Zishe arrived.

“The city gates are about to close, and you called me here in such a hurry. I thought something serious had happened!” Deng Zishe grumbled when he saw I was fine. Then, he noticed the wound on my wrist and became even angrier. “You called me for this tiny thing? You can handle it yourself…”

He stopped mid-sentence as the blood slowly stopped oozing out, leaving only a small spot of dried blood, no larger than a fingernail.

Deng Zishe quickly took out his medical box, checked me over, pricked his finger to take a blood sample for analysis, and finally said to both me and Yu Chongrui, “Congratulations, you can finally consummate your marriage.”

That was the first thing he thought of?

“The poison in your body is mostly gone now, but your constitution is still weaker than most. If you take care of yourself, you’ll recover gradually. There’s plenty of time, so don’t rush it, take things slow.”

Who’s rushing?

His words made me feel a bit embarrassed and uneasy.

That night, I took a long bath. When I returned to the bedroom, I saw Yu Chongrui sitting by the lamp, reading a book in just a single layer of clothing. I couldn’t help but ask, “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

He put down the book and looked up, his eyes playful. “I’m waiting for you.”

I sensed something different about him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. I felt shy and couldn’t meet his gaze.

“You could’ve waited in bed,” I said. “Why are you sitting here? You’ll catch a cold…”

“It’s brighter here.” He stood up, loosening the belt around his waist. “Don’t you always want to see it? Now, I’ll let you see it clearly.”

That night, I learned many things I hadn’t known—or had gotten completely wrong.

For instance, the cornelian cherry mark I’d longed to see on him—I had actually glimpsed it once before, back at the post station in Heqing County.

Also, Deng Zishe’s ointment really did help reduce injuries.

And Yu Chongrui had once told me that he held back his feelings in front of me, afraid of scaring me. It turned out he wasn’t lying—he did scare me a little, but it was different from what I had imagined.

I had known him for four years, been married to him for a year and a half, but it wasn’t until that night that I realized how shallow my understanding of him had been.

I lay in his arms, and suddenly, something he had never told me came to mind.

“Yu Chongrui,” I asked, looking up at him, “when did you start liking me?”

He half-closed his eyes and looked down at me, his voice low. “Probably from that Shangsi Festival, when you hugged me and talked to me for two hours alone in a room.”

“Ah! That was when I…” My eyes widened. “Then… that jade pendant—did I give that to you too?”

“Of course. You said your father had given it to you, and when you met someone you liked, you’d give it as a token of love.” He seemed a bit upset about it. “But you turned away, refused to recognize me, and tried to take it back.”

“I only did that because…” I didn’t even know how to explain anymore. Forget it. A couple of kisses should smooth things over.

So in the end… I was the one who first seduced him and then abandoned him.