Chapter 60 -

Chapter 60: Chapter

Yimei started to pull her hand back, figuring she had gathered enough proof for the Grandmaster. But before her fingers could leave, Zhengyu’s hand shot out. His fingers gripped her wrist tightly, stopping her in place.

Yimei blinked, surprised. She looked up and saw his dark eyes burning with a hot, desperate confusion. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, and his entire face was completely flushed red.

"Don’t..." Zhengyu rasped out, his voice thick, strained, and painfully raw. He swallowed hard, looking away in deep shame before forcing his burning eyes back to hers. "...Don’t stop."

Yimei arched a brow, her surprise quickly melting into a wicked, teasing glint. "Oh? I thought the mighty Young Master wanted me to get away from him."

"I’m... uncomfortable," he mumbled through gritted teeth, his pride shattering into a million pieces as he tightened his grip on her wrist. The sudden, unfinished friction had left him aching and burning with a restless, agonizing heat he couldn’t control.

Yimei stared at his red face, a slow, knowing smile touching her lips. She looked down at where her hand had been, then clicked her tongue playfully.

"Fine," she whispered softly. "You owe me a massive favor for this, husband."

With a swift, bold movement, Yimei reached down and pushed aside his lower robes, fully revealing his rigid manhood to her eyes. Zhengyu let out a sharp gasp, his body going completely rigid as the cool air hit his bare skin, He tried to pull the fabric back, but his trembling fingers lacked the strength to fight her.

Yimei didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her soft, warm hand firmly around him, picking up the steady rhythm right where she left off.

Zhengyu’s head fell back against the wooden headboard. His eyes squeezed shut, and a deep, helpless moan ripped from his throat. All of his icy arrogance and his stubborn pride melted away under the sweet, torturous friction of her palm moving up and down.

She stroked him steadily, her thumb pressing against the sensitive tip, watching the way his chest heaved and the way he bit his lower lip hard to muffle his heavy, ragged breathing. Every time her hand slid down, he grew thicker, harder, and throbbed violently in her grip.

"Yimei..." he choked out, his voice a broken whisper as he was left completely at her mercy.

Yimei leaned in close, her breath warm against his burning ear, loving every second of breaking his tough exterior. "Just relax, husband," she murmured, her hand never slowing down. "Let your devoted wife take care of you."

Zhengyu’s hips jerked off the bed as his body completely gave in. A low moan tore from his throat as he finally hit his limit, shaking softly under her touch. Warm, thick liquid burst over her fingers and his skin as he let go.

Yimei stopped stroking him, her breathing a little fast as she looked down at the messy white liquid covering her hand and his lap. She tilted her head, watching it quietly with a curious look on her face.

Zhengyu lay back against the wall, breathing hard as his chest heaved up and down. As the intense feeling passed, a heavy wave of pure shame washed over him. He quickly pulled the blanket over his lower body and turned his face sharply toward the wall, far too embarrassed to look at her.

Without saying a word, Yimei picked up the warm, wet cloth from the bowl on the side table. She pulled the blanket back just enough to wipe every bit of the sticky liquid off his skin, her hands gentle and calm.

Once he was completely clean, she draped his dry gray robe back over his lap to cover him up properly. She then washed her own sticky hands in the bowl of water, wiping them clean with the cloth.

She turned around to look at him. Zhengyu was still staring hard at the wall, his face bright red and his ears burning hot as he wrapped his arms tightly across his chest in complete silence.

"Well," Yimei said casually, her voice completely smooth as if nothing strange had happened. "I’ll go tell Grandmaster Zhang that your lower nerves work just fine."

Zhengyu gritted his teeth, letting out a soft, embarrassed growl, but he kept his eyes locked on the wall, totally defeated.

Yimei picked up the tray with the empty medicine bowl, gave his back a sweet, satisfied smile, and walked out into the hallway.

Over the next few days, the heavy mountain snow began to melt, replaced by a cool, crisp sun that warmed the quiet cottage yard. Inside, the hours passed in a comfortable, steady rhythm.

While Grandmaster Zhang spent his mornings treating Zhengyu’s legs with silver needles and pungent herb wraps, Yimei spent her time in the sunlit kitchen and courtyard with Old Madame Zhang. They sat side by side at the low wooden table, peeling dried roots, chopping medicinal herbs, and preparing simple, warm meals.

Madame Zhang proved to be a talkative, gentle host. As her hands worked deftly with a small iron knife, her face lit up with proud nostalgia.

"My daughter was just like you, little Yimei," the old woman said with a soft chuckle, sweeping a pile of sliced roots into a woven basket. "Headstrong, smart, and always looking beyond these quiet mountains. Years ago, she packed her bags and headed straight for the capital. Everyone said she was crazy, but look at her now, she owns a fine, busy inn right near the main trading district! She writes to us every month and sends sweet cakes when the transport carriages pass through."

Yimei smiled sweetly, carefully laying out strips of ginger to dry on a flat wicker tray. "She sounds remarkable, Madame. It takes real courage to build something of her own in a grand city."

"It does, it does," Madame Zhang agreed warmly, patting Yimei’s hand. "That’s why A-Cheng works so hard cutting wood and helping his father . Grandmaster Zhang has agreed to send him to the capital next spring. He’ll study under the senior physicians at the imperial pharmacy and finally become a full physician."

Just outside the open door, A-Cheng looked up from his work, sweeping sawdust off his apron with a proud, shy grin as he listened to his mother brag about him.

"The capital is a fast, dangerous place," Yimei murmured softly, her eyes glittering with hidden depth as she looked toward the mountains. "When A-Cheng goes, he will certainly make you proud."

After dinner, Yimei began stacking the empty porcelain bowls, preparing to carry them back into the warm kitchen.

Before she could take a step, A-Cheng hurried into the hall, looking slightly flushed and apologetic. "Sister Yimei!" he called out softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m so sorry, but a few of the village boys just came by the gate. A sheep got loose up near the eastern ridge, and they need my help to haul it back before dark."

Yimei set the bowls down, turning to him with an easy smile. "Go on, then. Don’t keep them waiting in the cold."

"The thing is..." A-Cheng hesitated, glancing down the dark hallway toward the guest room. "I won’t be back in time to give Brother Zhengyu his night decoction, or help him wash up before bed. Would you mind taking care of him tonight?"

Yimei’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but she quickly smoothed it over with a gentle nod. "Of course, A-Cheng. Go ahead, I’ll take care of my husband."

"Thank you!" A-Cheng grinned with relief, waving as he darted out the front door into the chilly evening air.

Yimei stood alone in the hallway, letting out a slow, heavy breath.

Ever since that morning when she had checked his nerve response and left him completely shattered in bed, she had deliberately kept her distance. She hadn’t stepped inside his room to feed him his bitter medicine, nor had she offered to clean his face or change his clothes. She had dumped all those duties entirely onto A-Cheng, figuring it was safer and far less humiliating for Zhengyu’s fragile pride, if another man handled his daily care.

She had enjoyed pushing his buttons, but even she recognized when a man had been pushed straight to his limit.

Well, Yimei thought, heading into the kitchen to pour the dark, steaming liquid into a wooden bowl. So much for giving him space.

She picked up the tray, along with a small basin of warm water and a fresh cloth, and walked back down the quiet corridor.