Chapter 101: The Handkerchief
The weight on her legs lightened, and Song Hemei wondered at it. She reached out and pressed down on his shoulder, stopping him from getting up.
"What are you fussing about? Go to sleep."
Her sleeve slipped from her shoulder, brushing lightly against his jaw, which made Yu Yeqing's body stiffen even more.
He took a deep breath and tried again to rise, but Song Hemei began to pat his shoulder gently, her voice softening considerably. "Is it uncomfortable resting on me? Should I get a soft cushion for you?"
She asked with such care that it made the amorous thoughts budding in Yu Yeqing feel even more untimely. Her words put him in a position where getting up would seem groundless.
He had no choice but to lie there stiffly.
The scent of her calmed him, yet it also enraptured him. He remembered kissing her flat belly, remembered the sensation of his palm stroking her leg.
In his daze, even his heartbeat felt heavy and muffled, charging recklessly within his chest.
Yet perversely, he was attached to this feeling. Her soothing touch both made his blood surge violently and allowed him to settle down into drowsiness. Perhaps it was because he had held out for too long, or perhaps it was the natural fatigue that came after a full day and night without sleep.
In the end, he drifted off in this bitter-sweet torment. When he awoke again, the sky was already turning dark. The carriage was traveling along the official road, looking for an inn to stop at for the night.
Her hand still rested on his shoulder. He paused, then raised his hand to hook her fingers, interlacing them tightly with his own.
"Awake?"
Song Hemei hadn't been sleeping. She had been resting with her eyes closed. Now, sensing his movement, she held his hand back and gave it a gentle shake.
"Since you're awake, get up. Drink some water. You're sweating. Didn't you feel it when I wiped your face?"
Yu Yeqing immediately sat up, reaching into his robe to pull out his handkerchief, but Song Hemei had already raised her hand, using her own handkerchief to gently dab at his forehead, right in front of him.
She was unbearably gentle, with a glimmer of light in her eyes, not the slightest bit displeased by it.
Yu Yeqing stared at her, lost in the moment. But as she withdrew her hand, she folded the handkerchief and tucked it back into her sleeve.
A flicker passed through his eyes. The stifling sensation that had once weighed on his heart came back to him.
"Why won't you give me the handkerchief?"
Song Hemei was caught off guard by the sudden question and couldn't respond immediately. "Give it to you? Do you plan to wash it and return it to me?"
She thought to herself, He really did come from poverty, being so careful with even a handkerchief.
She waved her hand dismissively. "I have plenty of handkerchiefs. It's fine if I don't want this one. Why should I put you through washing it? I can see you have plenty of official business as it is; don't waste time on such trivial matters."
But Yu Yeqing didn't see it that way at all. He lifted his head, and there was a hint of grievance in his eyes as he looked at her.
"You've never voluntarily given me a handkerchief." He paused, his voice lowering.
"But you gave him one."
Even though he didn't name names, Song Hemei knew who he meant. She thought he was about to dredge up old history, about her youthful infatuation with Shao Wen'ang and all the handkerchiefs she had given him back then.
Song Hemei sat up straight and looked at him seriously. "You know everything about my dealings with him. If you want one, I can give you one from now on. But you're not allowed to bring up that ancient history again."
As she spoke, she pulled out a new one and pressed it into his hand. "Here, here. This is one I usually use. You know my embroidery isn't great, so it's just a plain handkerchief."
The soft fabric touched his palm. Yu Yeqing clenched it tightly.
"I wasn't talking about three years ago."
He lowered his head as if he dared not look at her. "The ones you gave him before—they weren't embroidered by you. But that day at the meal, when you gave him one, I saw it. It was clean, probably one you used yourself. And you even wiped his lips… But later, when you wiped mine, you took the handkerchief back."
His voice was low, his tone ordinary, yet Song Hemei inexplicably felt he was accusing her. She thought about it hard and barely managed to recall that he might be referring to the day of their reunion, when she saw Shao Wen'ang's drool about to drip and suppressed her disgust to wipe his mouth.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were completely indifferent back then. Turns out you still remember such a trivial thing. That handkerchief had his drool on it. Was I supposed to keep it? Of course I gave it to him to deal with."
Mentioning this reminded her of how he had said he wasn't familiar with her. Not familiar, not familiar—and yet he had come to the Shao residence specifically to find her.
She didn't dare imagine: if she hadn't been the one to admit her feelings first, how long would he have kept brooding on his own?
But before she could say anything else, Yu Yeqing didn't seem satisfied with her explanation.
"Then why did you take back the handkerchief you used on me?"
Yu Yeqing still wouldn't look at her, his long lashes hiding all the emotions in his eyes. He knew he shouldn't keep fussing over such small things.
But perhaps it was because she had been indulging him lately, treating him with such leniency, as if nothing he did would make her angry.
It was as if that had given him the courage to ask. There was no need to keep dwelling on the past.
Maybe what he wanted was to hear her say a few more times that she cared about him, to give him a few more promises.
But Song Hemei was baffled. "When did that happen? Were you drooling too?"
That couldn't be right. He was usually so composed; how could he be so undignified?
"It was at the inn on our way back to Changzhou, when we—"
Yu Yeqing didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he lifted his head to look at her, the grievance evident in his eyes.
This time it wasn't about an inanimate object, but about the fact that she couldn't remember something so important.
Song Hemei's heart skipped a beat under his gaze. Anyone would think she had done something to wrong him.
She furrowed her brows and thought hard, looking at his red lips, until she finally remembered.
It was after he had kissed her, and his lips had gotten stained with her rouge. He was about to go coax Lianzhu, so she wiped his lips for him.
Yes, she hadn't given him that handkerchief back then; she had kept it herself…
As she marveled at his attention to such small details, she realized that she herself would carefully put away things like that. Suddenly, she understood why it mattered to him.
Song Hemei shifted closer, leaning into his space. "I remember now. So you still care about this."
She snuggled into his arms, watching his pupils tremble slightly at her movement, and feeling quite pleased, she pecked his lips.
"When I gave it to Shao Wen'ang, it was because I was disgusted and didn't want it. But I didn't give it to you because… I wasn't disgusted by it."
She blinked, drawing out her words in a soft, syrupy tone. "Do you understand what I mean?"
Yu Yeqing's Adam's apple bobbed. He had heard words that pleased him even more than a few reassurances or promises.
The impulse that had stirred before sleep now rushed through his chest and turned downward. He took a deep breath, and in the end, he pulled her close, locking her in his arms. Without waiting for her reaction, he kissed her directly.
It was a close, pressing intimacy, lips and tongues entangling in pull and probe, matching the wild pounding of his heart in joy. He stole her breath, pressing her body down bit by bit.
Song Hemei's mind spun. When her back touched the soft cushion of the carriage, she suddenly jolted awake from the trance of letting him take over, and hurriedly pushed against his chest.
Their lips parted. She panted softly, this time it was her turn to protest.
"We're still in the carriage! Not allowed!"
The driver outside wasn't one of their own. When they had done it before, they hadn't been exactly quiet. If they did it here and the driver heard, she would never be able to show her face again.
In her memory, Yu Yeqing was always restrained, rarely taking the initiative. Fortunately, it was the same now.
As soon as she spoke, he stopped, burying his face in her arms and breathing heavily. Also… she could clearly feel his intent, pressing against her. She didn't move, letting him hold her, but still asked considerately, "Are you okay?"
Yu Yeqing's voice came out muffled from her embrace, as if being asked such a question embarrassed him as well. "I'm fine."
Song Hemei's fingers tightened on his shoulder, her lashes fluttering wildly. She whispered, "Then hold on a little longer. We'll talk when we get to the inn."
After she said that, she clearly heard Yu Yeqing swallow, then he answered with a low "Mm."
Not long after, the carriage gradually came to a stop in front of an inn. Yu Yeqing pulled her up ahead of time and straightened her dress. He got off first, then held up the curtain for her and extended his arm for her to lean on as she descended, leaving the innkeeper's greeter with nothing to do.
Song Hemei steadied herself, walking into the inn while following their tightly clasped hands with her eyes, slowly moving her gaze upward.
His profile revealed the inherent aloofness in his bones, as if a proper man like him wouldn't even hold hands with her in public. But not only did he do that, he also said to the innkeeper, "Do you have a quiet room? I don't like noise."
Song Hemei immediately lowered her head, her heart racing. Thinking about what they were about to do, even the word "noise" seemed to take on an intimate, amorous hue.
The innkeeper naturally defended his establishment, saying that when the inn was built, they had added several extra layers to the walls, so even if someone snored like thunder next door, it wouldn't disturb the neighboring room's sleep.
Yu Yeqing nodded, paid the money, and then took her hand, following the attendant upstairs.
Song Hemei swallowed. Even though they had done this many times, she was always nervous. Maybe it was because they were different from other couples—they rarely got to be intimate in the same place.
Before entering the room, Song Hemei set aside her embarrassment. She called Chunhui over and gave a few instructions, then walked in with her ears burning. The door closed, leaving only the two of them.
Yu Yeqing looked down at her, his tall frame blocking the light from outside. His voice was hoarse. "Shall we start now?"
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