Chapter 59: Disheveled
He pressed his fingertips into her soft palm, his own palm covering the back of her hand, but she did not respond.
The Song Hemei before him had turned her head slightly to the other side, showing no sign of waking. Recalling what she had just said, Yu Yeqing hesitated for a moment, then ultimately rose first.
But standing like this before the bed, looking at her, it only made his breath catch. She lay sunk into the bedding, her entire body drained of strength. From the knees down, there was no covering; her calves rested on the edge of the bed. All the dishevelment reminded him of what had just happened, and seemed to say that because of his lack of restraint, she had lost her vitality.
He felt that he might have gone too far. Regret coalesced in his chest, refusing to dissipate. He took two deep breaths, forcing himself to look away, and tried to find the washroom.
When he returned, he brought hot water and a cloth. Song Hemei had already fallen into deep sleep, lying on her side. Her disordered garments still hung on her body, exposing most of her smooth back.
Yu Yeqing swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. For a moment, he didn't know where to start.
He considered carrying her to the bathtub, but worried it would wake her. Instead, he washed the cloth himself, sat down on the edge of the bed, took her hand, and began wiping from her fingertips to her palm, and then her entire forearm.
Apart from that, he gently wiped her cheeks and neck, her forehead and the backs of her ears. But when it came to going lower, the situation became tricky.
His gaze shifted to the sash at her waist. He paused, then stiffly reached out, gently pulling her to lie flat. Bit by bit, he tugged at the sash, and the plain white nightgown slipped off like petals being peeled away, fully revealing a scene he had not witnessed even during the most intense moments earlier.
His breathing grew heavy. It was extremely difficult for him to concentrate. He closed his eyes, but the softness beneath his fingertips made it even harder to bear.
He had never seen a woman's body before. Even with his sister, after their parents died, she had always bathed herself. And even three years ago, he had never seen her this completely.
But now she was deep in sleep, quiet, defenseless against everything. It was as if no matter what he did to her, she would silently endure.
His heart trembled uncontrollably. When his palm finally rested on her lower abdomen, he paused, hesitated. In the end, he took a deep breath, lifted her leg by the knee, and began to wipe downward, only to suddenly draw from her a muffled groan. She spoke: "Stop messing around."
Song Hemei's voice was muffled; her eyes only opened a sliver before closing again.
Yu Yeqing's hand froze. He looked at her in the candlelight and asked in a low voice, "Me?"
Who had she mistaken him for? Lianzhu? Or—
She was still groggy, as if she hadn't yet woken from a dream: "Young Master Yu, what time is it? Aren't you leaving yet?"
Yu Yeqing could feel his heart suddenly settle back down. A numb, warm sensation broke through his chest, spreading little by little.
He didn't speak, still keeping his eyes closed. Ignoring her instinctive avoidance, he pressed down on her knee and carefully wiped her clean.
When everything was finally done, a thin sheen of sweat had formed on his back. His gaze swept over and saw a clean mattress pad placed on the table nearby.
She had prepared everything thoroughly: the hot water kept warm in the washroom, the fresh mattress pad set aside.
What had she been thinking when she arranged all this? Planning to entertain him well so that he would no longer hold grudges?
He lowered his eyes. After putting everything in order, he went to bathe himself. When he returned, Song Hemei had already turned her back to him, fast asleep in the clean bedding. He did not leave. Instead, he lifted the thin quilt and climbed onto the bed, reached out and circled her waist, pulling her entire body into his embrace.
The person in his arms was much more slender than him. The girl raised with care in a wealthy family—every inch of her was delicate and soft. His arm resting on her, he had to restrain his strength, afraid of hurting her or waking her.
Three years ago, even if he had the thought, he wouldn't have had the guts to overstep. But now he could disregard all that, holding her tightly, his lips pressed to the back of her neck, the clear fragrance of her body lingering around his nose.
Some things, if never experienced, you can't even imagine what they taste like, even in dreams.
Actually, he had dreamed of her before.
In his dream, in his own room, she sat on a round stool at the table, resting her chin on her hand, looking at him. Her eyes held a naive yet cruel smile. She said to him, "What to do, Young Master Yu? Now you're kind of redundant."
In the dream, he was clearly standing in front of her, yet he still felt that bone-deep pain, the suffocation of water covering his mouth and nose tightly restraining him.
He saw her curl her lips at him. As she slightly tilted her head, watching him trapped in pain and on the verge of drowning, the red earring at her earlobe swayed lightly. She said with relief, "Then many thanks, Young Master Yu."
Song Hemei was woken by the force of being held tightly.
She hadn't slept so soundly in a long time. She guessed that after a great indulgence, people always sleep deeply. After all, three years ago, after every time, she could sleep very well in that shabby room of Yu Yeqing's.
But three years ago, she had never been woken up by being hugged so tightly.
She opened her eyes. Outside, it was already broad daylight; she had no idea what time it was. The hand around her lower abdomen was still transmitting warmth. She instinctively reached out to pull at it, only to realize that in her movement, her arm could rub directly against her side ribs. She suddenly realized with alarm that she was completely bare.
Song Hemei's mind buzzed instantly, but no matter how she tried to recall, she couldn't remember how she had ended up like this.
And when her hand fell on the forearm embracing her waist, she discovered another thing.
Yu Yeqing's clothes were fully in place.
This man—was he so inconsiderate? How could he only think to dress himself?
She felt her whole body seem to burn, especially when she realized that she was completely exposed, her back pressed tightly against Yu Yeqing's chest.
She couldn't tell whether it was shame or anger. She wanted to get up while he was still asleep, but found that even in sleep, his strength was so great that she couldn't break free no matter how she struggled.
Unable to bear it any longer, she simply jabbed her elbow backward. She heard a muffled groan from behind her, but the arm around her waist tightened in response.
Even when hurt, he still had to hold her tight?
Song Hemei didn't know what to say. She had to hastily withdraw her arm, cleared her throat slightly, and said in an innocent tone, "What's wrong, Young Master Yu? Did you have a nightmare?"
Her voice reached his ears. Yu Yeqing opened his eyes.
Before him was her fair ear and smooth neck. The shallow marks from last night had already faded, but the warmth in his arms was still distinct.
His Adam's apple rolled unconsciously. He paused, realizing he couldn't continue like this. He loosened his arm, turned onto his back, and raised a hand to his chest.
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
Song Hemei, with his withdrawal, was able to lie side by side with him.
Above her was the familiar canopy of her bed. In her movements, aside from feeling some soreness in her waist and legs, she also noticed that her body was dry and clean, and the quilt covering her was the set she had prepared earlier.
She swallowed. At this moment, she couldn't care whether he saw through her. She only asked, "Did a maid come in?"
"No."
Song Hemei was not ready to let it go: "Did I go bathe myself last night?"
"That was probably your intention," Yu Yeqing said in a normal tone. "But after you said that, you fell asleep."
Song Hemei closed her eyes. Every inch of comfortable dryness she felt on her body corresponded to a proportional amount of shame.
She gritted her teeth, wanting to find someone to blame: "Why didn't you wake me?"
"I did. You didn't wake up."
Song Hemei's tone turned impatient: "Then why didn't you call a maid? It's not like I'm so destitute that I don't even have a maidservant."
A tickle rose in his chest. Yu Yeqing unconsciously curved his lips slightly and said unhurriedly, "You wanted the people around you to see?"
He deliberately paused his tone: "Do you know what you looked like when you fell asleep last night?"
Song Hemei quickly grabbed his wrist, cutting him off: "Alright, alright, you don't need to go into detail."
She took a deep breath and forced out a few words from between her lips: "Then should I thank Lord Yu for being so considerate?"
"There's no need for thanks, but Second Miss repaying kindness with enmity is hardly the act of a gentleman."
Song Hemei wouldn't accept his words: "I was just trying to wake you. You were holding me so tight—how was I supposed to know what was wrong with you?"
Yu Yeqing lowered his eyes and didn't speak further.
He had indeed dreamed of her again, but unlike before, in last night's dream, she had fallen into the river with him. In his heart, there was only one thought: hold on to her, never let go, in life or death.
But now awake, as reason returned, he felt some regret.
It shouldn't be like this. If that day really came, they shouldn't both die together. Even more so, it was selfish to hope that she would perish with him.
Song Hemei, seeing that he wasn't speaking, assumed his taciturn nature had kicked in again. She reached up and tugged at the thin quilt. The longer she lay there, the more uncomfortable she felt being so exposed.
She bit her lip: "Since you already helped me, why didn't you put my clothes back on? You made sure to dress yourself neatly."
Yu Yeqing spoke at this point: "That nightgown of yours was dirty, especially the hem—it had—"
"I know, I know…" Song Hemei pinched his arm again, quickly cutting him off. "But this is my boudoir. Couldn't you find any clothes of mine?"
Yu Yeqing paused in his tone and coughed lightly: "I forgot."
Song Hemei was angered into laughter. What was there to forget?
She had fallen asleep first last night, but he had done quite a bit: remembered to bathe, change the bedding, come back and hold her through the night—but he forgot to just find her a piece of clothing?
She said nothing more, feeling only like turning over and facing away from him.
But considering her current state, if she really turned over, it wouldn't be clear whether she was trying to turn her back to him or inviting him.
Yu Yeqing spoke again: "I originally considered leaving your undergarment on, but you hadn't been wearing one."
She could feel him turning his head, his hot gaze falling on her side cheek: "Why weren't you wearing one? Were you waiting for me?"
She had no good answer for that. Who wears an undergarment after bathing?
But last night, she had been too nervous, and since she knew what they would do when they met, it wasn't a proper social call—how could she have remembered to put on an undergarment?
She pressed her lips together, but before she could think of a response, there was a knock at the door.
"Madam, are you awake? It's late. This servant is here to help you dress."
Get instant access to all chapters now.
Post a Comment