Recklessly Breaking a Delicate Branch - Chapter 24

The entanglement had lasted nearly an entire day, to the extent that Jiang Wanshu remained in a deep, comatose sleep until well past the next morning.

Zhou Yan had summoned several Mongolian physicians from the grasslands to diagnose her. Their consensus was unanimous: Jiang Wanshu was simply exhausted.

The men of the grasslands were unlike those of the Central Plains; their physiques were naturally robust and tall. His “delicate princess” had been raised in luxury, never lifting a finger for chores; there was no way she could endure the ministrations of a man whose physical stamina far exceeded that of ordinary people.

Sleeping for an entire day was, for her, perfectly normal.

The physician cautioned him that the next time they shared a bed, he must not let it last as long. Given the lady’s constitution, even if he found it hard to restrain himself, twice a day was the proper limit.

Zhou Yan’s face had darkened with irritation upon hearing this, his lips thinning as he gazed at the girl on the bed.

Where is the joy in that?

At least, fortunately, Jiang Wanshu’s body had suffered no lasting harm.

Due to the previous day’s exertions, Zhou Yan was much more disciplined when night fell again. As she remained in her deep slumber, he did not lay a finger on her, contenting himself with pulling her into his arms and falling into a heavy sleep.

As today was one of the most magnificent festivals on the grasslands, and since Jiang Wanshu had married into the tribe, she ought to move about and familiarize herself with her surroundings. However, because he was naturally unwilling to let those close to him toil, Zhou Yan rose very early.

The morning sunlight, tinged with a slight chill, filtered into the white felt tent. Inside the vast space, Zhou Yan was at the side, organizing the items needed for the White Lhamo Festival.

He picked up the candles and incense treasures from the table, placing them one by one into an exquisitely woven wooden basket.

At the far end of the small table stood a wooden clothes rack draped with a set of ethnic female attire. On a wooden chair beneath it lay vibrant and expensive jewelry of agate, turquoise, and coral.

These were the accessories Zhou Yan had selected for Jiang Wanshu. He had asked his elder sister, who told him that women loved agates with such brilliant colors.

Because of her previous actions, he felt he had to teach her a lesson. In his fury that day, when he had taken her, he told her they would remain on the grasslands forever.

A man of the grasslands keeps his word; he would never go back on it.

Furthermore, he had tribal duties to attend to and would have to report for duty starting the day after tomorrow.

Just as Zhou Yan’s hand touched the now-cleared tabletop, he heard a soft moan coming from the soft bed he had specially prepared for his “delicate flower.” He turned his head.

Inadvertently, he saw the girl’s snowy-white legs rubbing slightly against the soft brocade quilt. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her beautiful eyebrows were knit together as if she were uncomfortable. Seeing this, Zhou Yan approached her.

According to the physicians, she was supposed to wake today.

The man’s hand lightly brushed over her small hand resting on the quilt, attempting to wake her.

His hand was cold, unlike the warmth of the girl clutching the quilt. The intersection of extreme cold and heat caused Jiang Wanshu, who was currently trapped in a nightmare, to bolt upright in shock.

In the vast tent, Jiang Wanshu sat up abruptly. Looking at the unfamiliar surroundings in a daze, she realized her situation, and tears began to fall silently.

Crystal droplets blurred her vision. Jiang Wanshu clutched the inner garment the man had clumsily put on her, her heart aching with unbearable pain.

Tears dripped onto the brocade quilt, staining the embroidered flower hearts. Fragmented memories surged back; wanting to escape, she threw back the velvet quilt covering her upper body and stood up by the bedside, refusing to endure any longer.

Unexpectedly, before her legs could even straighten, she collapsed to the floor in the next second.

She sat on the ground in a pathetic state, staring at everything around her.

The man, who was only ten paces away behind a screen, rushed over the moment he heard the commotion.

From behind the large screen embroidered with grassland mountains, the man’s figure instantly entered her sight.

Zhou Yan looked anxious. He grabbed her under her right arm, attempting to lift her up, but Jiang Wanshu slapped his arm away in rejection, making it clear she would not let him continue.

Pitying the body he had bruised and battered, Zhou Yan did not force her. Instead, he took the velvet quilt from the bed, placed his hands beneath it, and respectfully pushed the quilt toward her.

“You’ve just woken up; your body is still weak. It wouldn’t be good if you caught a chill,” Zhou Yan said, trying to appeal to her with reason and emotion. “My hands are under the quilt, so even if I carry you, there is no direct contact. In your condition, you should wait a bit longer. Let me carry you back to bed, alright?”

He tried his best to emulate the demeanor of a refined gentleman from the Central Plains, using his hand to move the fur of the quilt to gently nudge her snowy-white wrist. She pushed him away without mercy.

She looked at him without a word, her autumn-water eyes misted with tears, staring at him with silent resentment.

He tried to touch her again, only to be pushed away once more. His temperament was naturally fiery, and with her repeated, harsh rejections—coupled with the fear that she truly would catch a cold if this continued—he began to lose his patience.

His face darkened. He simply dropped the quilt, wrapped his long arms directly around her waist and hips, and hauled her onto the bed. Jiang Wanshu wept piteously, her tears inevitably staining the man’s thick arms.

Seeing these tears, Zhou Yan found it hard to stay angry. He pulled a corner of the quilt and wrapped it tightly around her.

She was now bundled into a chubby little ball, which made Zhou Yan chuckle despite himself.

“Wanwan, do you know you look like a zongzi—a fragrant rice dumpling stuffed with fillings—just waiting to be eaten?”

Zhou Yan laughed, his peach-blossom eyes curving slightly.

Jiang Wanshu was not satisfied with his reaction. She wanted to choke this man who had stolen her purity, but knowing her strength was limited, she forced herself to endure.

She looked up at his handsome face, knowing full well that this man responded to the “soft” approach rather than the “hard” one.

He had merely been provoked into deciding she could no longer live in the Central Plains; it was not the end of the world. Life was long, and there would be many opportunities to escape in the future.

At worst, life would just be a bit harder; she had already expected as much.

She treated those pains as if she had been bitten by a dog; once she healed herself, they would fade with time.

However, for now, she had no desire to acknowledge him. As a precious golden flower, she had never tripped so spectacularly over a single person.

She wasn’t lashing out, but that didn’t mean she agreed with his actions.

In a fit of pique, she threw open the velvet quilt he had wrapped around her, exposing her thinly clad body to the cold draft.

The consequence of this was that Zhou Yan, who had turned to prepare breakfast, immediately fixed his gaze back on her.

He walked into the tent carrying a bowl of steaming hot goat milk tea. Through the rising mist, he saw the girl’s pale, thin silhouette.

“Come, drink this milk tea to warm your body.”

Winters on the grasslands were always much colder than in the Central Plains. Even Zhou Yan, who was far stronger than the average man, was wearing more layers than usual.

Seeing her use such a “spoiled” way of acting out—tossing off the quilt—Zhou Yan’s face undoubtedly darkened.

He hurriedly set the milk tea on the small bedside table and grabbed the quilt again, forcibly draping it over her shoulders.

Jiang Wanshu knitted her brows and struggled against his approach, but how could she be a match for the man recognized as the strongest warrior on the grasslands?

Once she realized the futility of it, she stopped wasting her energy. Instead, she grew quiet, tilting her noble head and wearing a wilting, unhappy expression, refusing to look at him.

However, this resulted in her resting firmly against Zhou Yan’s chest. With the “warm jade” in his arms, Zhou Yan instantly recalled the soul-stirring experience of the night before last. His hand drifted to a spot three inches below her chest, feeling a stir of temptation.

But remembering that she hadn’t eaten for a whole day, he restrained himself. He picked up the milk tea again and said, “Drink this.”

She still didn’t respond or move, just sat there silently.

His patience was limited. Predicting the “hardness” that might follow in the next second, the smile on Zhou Yan’s lips grew more playful.

While Jiang Wanshu was looking at him with disdain for his foolish grin, Zhou Yan leaned down and, in an instant, pressed his lips against her soft mouth with a loud “pop.”

The fragrance of the girl’s delicate skin swirled around his nose. Zhou Yan instinctively pinned her hands within his own—his arm easily encircling her waist—and deepened the kiss.

A man raised on martial arts knew how to control his strength perfectly. Even during this deep, lingering kiss intended to flirt, his other hand held the bowl of milk tea steadily, not spilling a single drop.

He didn’t let her go until she was truly out of breath.

Satisfied, the man felt refreshed and his attitude toward her improved.

Jiang Wanshu did not appreciate it. Under his direct gaze, she reached out and brazenly wiped her pink lips—now swollen from his kiss—looking at him as if he were a man-eating demon.

Zhou Yan didn’t take offense. Instead, he held the milk tea before her again.

This time, his lips were upturned, but his tone brooked no argument: “Drink it, or I’ll feed it to you myself.”

Having experienced their physical union, Jiang Wanshu immediately understood the hidden meaning in his words. With eyes red from crying, she scrutinized his expression.

Behind the smile in his eyes was a hint of sternness and a fleeting madness. Jiang Wanshu did not doubt for a second that if she didn’t drink it, he really would “feed” her personally. She hurriedly took the bowl and gulped it down without even tasting it.

A bowl of hot tea in the stomach on a winter morning did indeed warm her significantly, and she felt the discomfort in her body ease slightly.

Zhou Yan glanced at her and felt quite pleased. “Wouldn’t it have been better to be obedient earlier? Then you could have avoided that ‘disgusting’ kiss.”

He never beat around the bush with her. Even though he knew she disliked his proximity, his speech remained as blunt and boisterous as ever.

Jiang Wanshu still ignored him, not even giving him a “harrumph.”

Finding this boring, Zhou Yan took the empty bowl and prepared to head to the main kitchen tent to prepare food for her.

He knew she had been exhausted the day before, so he had gone to his sister’s home early that morning to slaughter a sheep. Now that she was awake, he had to roast it while it was fresh. If it wasn’t fresh, it wouldn’t taste good.

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