Chapter 29: Acknowledging the Master
The next morning, when the sky was still pitch-black without a trace of light, Jiang Chenghan was roused from sleep by his long-ingrained biological clock.
He opened his eyes. The dragon-and-phoenix wedding candles on the table hadn't yet burned out, casting a dim yellow glow inside the bed curtains.
Blinking to fully wake up, Jiang Chenghan did not rise immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and glanced down at Yan Jingshu, who was still fast asleep, pillowed on his arm.
He had initially thought he would struggle to adjust to sharing a bed with someone, yet last night he had slept soundly. Now, holding Yan Jingshu’s warm, soft body, he found it incredibly comfortable, and his hand resting on Yan Jingshu’s shoulder unconsciously stroked lightly a couple of times.
Looking down again, he saw Yan Jingshu’s lashes resting peacefully, his cheeks flushed, his sleeping face serene and untroubled. His gaze drifted lower, past the slightly open collar, where against snow-white skin, vivid red marks dotted his chest and collarbones.
Recognizing them as his own handiwork, Jiang Chenghan awkwardly averted his eyes, though his mind involuntarily replayed the events that had unfolded within the confines of these bed curtains just hours earlier…
At twenty-three, he was in the prime of youth—strong, vigorous, and full of energy. With a fragrant, soft body in his arms and lingering traces of their earlier intimacy in the air, his body uncontrollably stirred once more.
Realizing his reaction, Jiang Chenghan immediately wanted to get up. But Yan Jingshu lay in his embrace, still resting on his arm. Any movement might wake him up, so he froze, not daring to budge. He shut his eyes and silently recited military stratagems in his mind, hoping to distract himself and regain composure.
Just then, Yan Jingshu shifted slightly. With only two thin layers of fabric separating them, the soft warmth pressed against him made Jiang Chenghan’s barely cooled desire flare up again, his body stiffening instantly.
Perhaps finding the sensation uncomfortable, Yan Jingshu frowned faintly in his sleep. Jiang Chenghan watched him intently, relieved when he only fluttered his lashes without waking.
But the next moment, Yan Jingshu’s low, slightly nasal voice murmured drowsily inside the bed curtains, “Mmm… what time is it…?”
Jiang Chenghan softened his voice and replied, “It’s just past mao shi (5-7 am). Still early, go back to sleep.”
“…Mmm.” Yan Jingshu hummed in acknowledgment, clearly not intending to rise. His eyes remained closed, but he mumbled a reminder to Jiang Chenghan, “…The autumn mornings are chilly. Add an extra layer when you practice martial arts… don’t catch cold.” With that, he turned over, his back to Jiang Chenghan, and shifted to rest on a pillow instead.
Now freed, Jiang Chenghan gazed at Yan Jingshu’s retreating figure, his eyes reflecting the same surprise he had felt back at the Duke’s residence when tasting those “hometown dishes”—how did Yan Jingshu know he trained at this hour every morning?
His gaze grew complex and contemplative. He wanted to ask, but Yan Jingshu had already fallen back into deep slumber, and he couldn’t bring himself to wake him.
No matter, now that he’s married to me, there will be plenty of time to figure it out later.
Setting aside his doubts for now, Jiang Chenghan carefully slipped out of bed. Remembering Yan Jingshu’s reminder, he took an outer robe from the wardrobe and put it on before leaving the room.
Yan Jingshu woke up over an hour later, by which time the sky was fully bright. Still half-asleep, he instinctively reached out beside him, only to find the space empty. He paused, then abruptly sat up, eyes flying open.
Pushing aside the bed curtains, the sight of the bridal chamber’s festive red decorations reassured him, and the panic in his eyes slowly faded.
Realizing last night hadn’t been a dream, Yan Jingshu exhaled softly, his expression easing into one of contentment.
In his past life, due to various reasons, he and Jiang Chenghan had lived as husband and wife for over a year without ever sharing a bed—meeting only a handful of times each month. It wasn’t until after his grandmother’s passing that he resolved to let go of his reservations and build a proper life with Jiang Chenghan.
But because he insisted on observing a year of mourning for his grandmother, they never consummated their marriage. Then, mere months later—before the mourning period even ended, Jiang Chenghan met with disaster…
Life’s unpredictability was something Yan Jingshu understood all too well. He refused to relive the regrets of his past life. Though Jiang Chenghan had wanted to take things slow, Yan Jingshu couldn’t wait.
Fortunately, Jiang Chenghan couldn’t bear to refuse him in the end. Remembering their intimacy last night, Yan Jingshu’s cheeks warmed, his eyes glistening slightly.
Jiang Chenghan had been gentle and attentive throughout, carefully cleaning and applying ointment afterward, leaving Yan Jingshu refreshed and comfortable. Now, aside from slight soreness in his waist, he felt no discomfort.
Seeing the late hour through the window, Yan Jingshu got out of bed. Maids waiting outside entered with warm water and towels to help him wash and dress.
Once ready, Yan Jingshu instructed them to prepare breakfast, then stepped out to find Jiang Chenghan practicing martial arts in the central courtyard.
Bathed in sunlight, Jiang Chenghan’s sharp brows and bright eyes, his tightly pressed lips, and his resolute expression exuded steady determination. Sweat trailed down his sun-bronzed skin, tracing the hard line of his jaw. His powerful muscles, taut with each controlled movement, strained against his thin shirt, radiating raw strength and untamed vigor.
Even after countless such sights in his past life, Yan Jingshu’s heart still pounded wildly, unable to tear his gaze away.
Finally, Jiang Chenghan noticed him from the corner of his eye and stopped, walking over with a smile. “You’re awake—”
“Yes.” Yan Jingshu smiled back, handing him a towel to wipe his sweat. “Are you hungry? I’ve asked the maids to serve breakfast. Shall we eat?”
Jiang Chenghan shook his head. “You go ahead. I’ll wash up and change first.” His clothes were drenched and clinging uncomfortably, and he doubted Yan Jingshu would appreciate the state he was in.
After the intimacy they’d shared last night, Yan Jingshu hardly minded, but he worried Jiang Chenghan might catch cold. “Alright. There’s hot water in the kitchen, mix it with cold water before using. I’ll fetch fresh clothes for you.”
“Thank you.” Jiang Chenghan could have easily used cold water, but he couldn’t refuse Yan Jingshu’s thoughtfulness.
Yan Jingshu said nothing more, and the two returned to the inner courtyard together. Jiang Chenghan to the kitchen for water, Yan Jingshu to their room to pick out a full set of clothes.
In the bathing room, Jiang Chenghan had already stripped and was pouring water over himself, his back to the door. Yan Jingshu paused in the doorway at the sight of the scratches and bite marks littering his shoulders and back.
“…I’m sorry. Let me apply some medicine for you.” Regretful, Yan Jingshu reached out to lightly touch the marks.
Jiang Chenghan spun around, catching his wrist with a wry smile. “It’s nothing. No need for medicine, just a few scratches. They’ll fade by tomorrow. But your touch tickles.”
Yan Jingshu’s eyes widened slightly. After all this time, he hadn’t known Jiang Chenghan was ticklish. He flexed his fingers teasingly but relented under Jiang Chenghan’s pleading look.
Relieved that Yan Jingshu didn’t press further, Jiang Chenghan swiftly dried himself, dressed in the fresh clothes, and went to the main hall where Yan Jingshu was waiting.
The round table in the center of the hall was already laden with breakfast—a large pot of rice porridge, a plate of steamed buns (each the size of a fist), and five dishes of meat and vegetables.
“You may leave. We don’t need service here.” Knowing Jiang Chenghan disliked being waited on during meals, Yan Jingshu dismissed the maids, leaving just the two of them.
As Yan Jingshu sat, Jiang Chenghan swiftly served him a bowl of porridge. Yan Jingshu accepted it without ceremony and began eating. Both were genuinely hungry after last night’s exertions and the late hour, so they ate in comfortable silence, occasionally serving each other dishes.
Raised in an aristocratic household, Yan Jingshu ate with refined, deliberate slowness. Jiang Chenghan, by contrast, devoured buns in a few bites, but his larger appetite meant they finished around the same time.
After the meal, they lingered briefly before Yan Jingshu instructed the maids to summon all the household servants to the front hall.
Between the temporary help assigned by the general’s residence, the two rough laborers Jiang Chenghan had hired, and Yan Jingshu’s dowry attendants, the household now had over a dozen servants—all of whom needed to be properly introduced.
Once the maids reported everyone had assembled, Jiang Chenghan and Yan Jingshu headed to the front hall together.
“You met these two last night, and this is QiaoMomo—all sent by Madam Jiang to assist me,” Jiang Chenghan said, pointing to two young maids and a middle-aged woman standing together.
Yan Jingshu nodded, smiling at the trio. “You’ve worked hard these past days.” He signaled his maid to hand them pre-prepared red envelopes.
Overjoyed, the three immediately bowed in gratitude.
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