The master bedroom was exceptionally spacious. On its eastern side stood a large bed made of rosewood, intricately carved with flowing clouds, countless lotus blossoms, and leaping carp. It was spread with a red satin mattress embroidered with gold ruyi patterns and floral motifs, soft and plush, all imbued with the subtle fragrance of asarum and orchids.
Lin Jinlou carried Xianglan to the bed and, with one hand, stripped off her cloak embroidered with butterflies flitting among flowers, revealing a stretch of pale, delicate neck. His throat tightened, and he couldn’t resist lowering his head to kiss it. Gathering her long hair to one side, he began to remove the rest of her clothing, teasing, "Why wear so many layers? It’s midsummer—thick clothes will stifle you. I’ve had several sets of soft gauze and silk made for you because I care. Change into them and serve me—it’ll be more amusing."
His words cut like a sharp blade. Xianglan felt deeply humiliated, her face wooden as she lay motionless on the bed.
Lin Jinlou had already removed her undergarments. In the candlelight, her body appeared like sculpted ice and jade—slender and graceful, with elegantly shaped peaks on her chest, crowned with tender pink buds. Against the crimson bedding, she exuded an almost bewitching allure.
Breathing heavily, Lin Jinlou bent to suckle those pink buds while his other hand caressed her long, luminous legs, exploring the soft, delicate junction between them with deliberate pressure.
Xianglan shuddered violently, trembling like a frightened kitten. Tears welled uncontrollably, streaming down into her thick hair.
Lin Jinlou’s blood surged. The girl beneath him was like a half-bloomed flower—fragrant, sweet, and exquisitely tender, as if carved from jade. Though he had known many women, none possessed skin so smooth as congealed cream or a presence as subtly fragrant as orchids.
Xianglan opened her tear-filled eyes to see Lin Jinlou swiftly shed his clothes, revealing a robust, muscular frame that seemed even more intimidating than when fully dressed. Panting, his scorching body pressed against hers. Xianglan tensed like a drawn bow. A flicker of pity stirred in Lin Jinlou’s heart as his fingers probed deeper. "If only you had been this obedient earlier," he murmured. "I would have honored you as a Concubine and never treated you poorly." But just as passion mounted, Xianglan stated flatly, "It’s all the same vulgar business. Finish it quickly if you must."
Lin Jinlou froze, the earlier tenderness icing over in his chest. His expression vanished, replaced by a dark rage rising in his throat. "You wretched woman!" he cursed, slapping her across the face.
Xianglan’s head snapped to the side, her ears ringing and cheek burning, yet the pain somehow brought her a strange relief.
Fury blazed through Lin Jinlou. As one favored by fortune, accustomed to commanding wind and rain, women ought to orbit around him—pleasing him when he was amused, discarded when he was not. He had shown exceptional patience with this woman, repeatedly saving her and her father’s lives. Yet she repaid him with such ingratitude, openly shaming him! Not just an ungrateful wretch, but a heartless harlot! Did she think he didn’t know whom she pined for? That spineless Song Ke! Even her maid’s name—Hua Shan, "Painted Fan"—betrayed her obsession. Hadn’t she named the girl after a fan gifted by Song Ke? The very thought sickened him. Song Ke was nothing in his eyes!He had intended to put on his clothes and leave without a second thought. Not to mention outside, even within the Hall of Knowing Spring, countless women were eagerly awaiting his presence. But the girl beneath him was truly beautiful, like flawless jade, forever carrying an air of unattainable elegance.
Lin Jinlou suddenly laughed, reaching out to pinch Xianglan’s chin, forcing her to turn her face and meet his gaze. He spoke slowly, "Are you still thinking about Song Ke? Well, three months ago, he married the daughter of Duke Xian in the capital. I even personally attended the wedding to offer my congratulations. It was quite the spectacle—the bridal procession filled an entire street, and all the influential nobles and ministers were there. Song Ke married a highborn lady and is now riding high on his success. I wonder how he’d feel knowing the woman he once fancied is now being enjoyed by me... Little Xianglan, what do you think? Would he care or not?"
Xianglan lay rigidly, her face devoid of any expression, only her eyes brimming with tears that fell like rolling melon seeds. Song Ke—she thought of her husband from her past life. In that life, when she married him, the bridal procession stretched far beyond a single street; "ten miles of red dowry" would not have been an exaggeration. When he lifted her bridal veil, he softly called her "my lady," his cheeks slightly flushed, a warm smile curling at the corners of his lips. That smile was exactly the same as when they met again in this life.
But in this life, he had married a noble daughter, while she lay on a cold bed, reduced to a plaything.
She understood that from then on, they were strangers, so she had locked Song Ke firmly away in the depths of her heart. Why, then, did Lin Jinlou have to so cruelly dredge up this unspoken affection?
Lin Jinlou despised Xianglan for shedding tears of sorrow and despair over Song Ke. He roughly kissed her lips, parted her legs, and slowly pressed his rigid member inside. Xianglan struggled from the pain and discomfort, but Lin Jinlou subdued her effortlessly. She felt as if she were being torn apart below, trembling all over from the agony, sobbing and crying out.
A long time later, Lin Jinlou finally finished, burying his head in Xianglan’s neck as he breathed heavily. After a moment, he lifted his head and met Xianglan’s eyes, swollen like walnuts. Though he had been satisfied, seeing Xianglan’s lifeless expression rekindled his anger. He rolled off the bed and strode to the crabapple-wood table to pour himself a cup of cold tea.
After drinking, he sat back on the bed, intending to call a maid to bring water. Raising the candle higher, he noticed the nearly dried bloodstains on Xianglan’s legs. His anger subsided slightly, and he asked, "Staring blankly like that, what are you thinking about?"
Xianglan closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
Seeing her like this, Lin Jinlou’s temper flared again. He sneered, "You were the one who begged me to save your father. Who are you putting on this act for now? Or have you never been a servant and don’t know how to serve someone? Here I am, a living person, having to pour my own tea?"
Xianglan opened her eyes, forced herself to sit up, silently pulled her cloak over herself, and, enduring the pain, trembled as she got out of bed to pour Lin Jinlou another cup of tea.
Lin Jinlou snorted coldly and swept his hand, sending the teacup flying. It shattered noisily on the floor. He threw on his clothes and stormed out, the door slamming shut with a loud "thud."
Xianglan, wracked with pain, staggered and collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the quilt.Suddenly, there came the sound of soft footsteps. Someone gently patted her back and whispered, "Xianglan? Xianglan? Get up and wash yourself."
Xianglan looked up and saw it was Chunling. It turned out Chunling was on duty today. She had been sleeping groggily in the side room when she suddenly heard the sound of a cup shattering. Not daring to act rashly, she waited until Lin Jinlou had slammed the door and left before throwing on her clothes and coming over. She saw Xianglan with disheveled hair, swollen red eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and a prominently swollen patch on her face—clearly, she had been struck.
Chunling gasped and hurried to fetch half a pot of warm water from the small tea room at the back. She poured it into a copper basin, soaked a towel, and began wiping Xianglan's face. Xianglan shook her head, took the towel, and slowly wiped herself. Chunling sighed, sat down beside Xianglan, and said, "Listen, let me offer you some advice. The Eldest Master has a bad temper and is somewhat promiscuous, but he's also generous and knows how to cherish people. Didn't he dote on Concubine Lan to the point of spoiling her? Not only did he fill her room with curios and decorations, but he even gave her shops. He's had his eye on you for a long time. Since things have come to this, why stubbornly resist? Say a few sweet words to please the Eldest Master, and you'll have a better life."
Xianglan lowered her eyelids and said hoarsely, "You don't understand. I could live a life of servility to please others, but kneeling and surviving like that can only be endured for a while. If I have to live like that forever, I'd rather die. It's better to let him dislike me from the start. Someday, I'll find a way out."
Chunling was stunned. She wanted to say more, but her lips moved without a word coming out. She could only shake her head, take the basin, and go to change the water. When she returned a moment later, she brought ointment to apply to Xianglan's wounds, but Xianglan refused. Instead, she wrapped herself in the bedsheet and lay down haphazardly, and for now, that was the end of it.
As for Lin Jinlou, he had stormed out in a rage, slamming the door behind him, his anger boiling up to his head. That foolish woman Chen Xianglan was utterly unreasonable, despite her clever appearance. At his young age, he had already become a fourth-rank general with command over heavy troops—such achievements could be counted on one hand. Perhaps after the New Year, he would be promoted again. His family's wealth far surpassed that of the Song family. What did he lack in terms of wealth, power, or status? Powerful officials in the court, nobles, even imperial relatives were eager to marry their daughters to him. Chen Xianglan was beautiful, but her stubborn, mule-like temperament was truly unappealing. There were plenty of women more charming and gentle than her, swarming around him like flies to honey, using all their tricks to keep him by their side. He simply couldn't swallow this insult. Was he, Lin Jinlou, someone to be treated with indifference and disdain? And especially not by an insignificant little woman. He was determined to make her submit, to turn her into a docile, purring kitten by his side.
Lin Jinlou stood in the courtyard, rubbing his temples. He noticed that all the rooms, big and small, had their lights extinguished, except for one small room in the western wing. It turned out Luanr hadn't slept yet. Still upset over Lin Jinlou's scolding, she hadn't removed her makeup or changed her clothes. She lay stiffly on the bed, covering her face with a handkerchief in a sulk. Cunxin had come to persuade her a few times but was scolded away.
Cunxin didn't dare to advise anymore. She sat on a small stool, leaning against the wall, dozing off.Just then, the door crashed open with a violent shove, jolting Cunxin awake. Luanr hastily removed the handkerchief from her face and sat up. Lin Jinlou strode in with a dark expression, wearing only a silk robe that hung open to reveal his muscular chest. Both Luanr and Cunxin stared, mouths agape, and it took them a moment to recover. Cunxin hurriedly busied herself preparing tea.
Though inwardly overjoyed, Luanr deliberately put on a displeased expression. Sitting on the bed, she knitted her slender brows and dabbed at the corner of her eye with her handkerchief, letting out a couple of sobs. "You just finished scolding me," she said. "Why aren't you off embracing your beautiful new favorite instead of rushing over here?"
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