Blossom

Dou Zhao had visited once before and found the farmstead in Daxing to be quite tidy. After a quick glance, she was respectfully ushered by the stewardess into the main room of the upper courtyard, while Song Mo went to the study.

Seeing the main room clean and bright, she instructed Su Xin before taking a nap in the inner chamber.

Upon waking, she felt thoroughly refreshed. Though her body was still somewhat languid, her spirits were greatly lifted.

Raising her head, Dou Zhao saw Song Mo sitting by the window on the heated brick bed, examining something by the fading daylight, with the bed table strewn with various papers.

Only then did she realize it was already dusk, and the inner chamber held only her and Song Mo.

Before she could speak, Song Mo, whose senses were far keener than most, turned to her with a smile and asked, "Are you hungry? You only had half a bowl of porridge before leaving. I didn’t wake you since you were sleeping so soundly." Then he called out to the servants outside, "Bring in the chicken soup from the stove!"

She was familiar with the aloof and indifferent Song Mo, the decisive and even ruthless Song Mo, but she had never seen this side of him—gentle, considerate, bright, and refreshing... How many facets did Song Mo possess?

Dou Zhao watched him with keen interest.

Song Mo, however, shuffled over in his slippers and asked, "What’s the matter?"

He knew he had been a bit reckless that morning, but the feeling had been too wonderful, and he had allowed himself that indulgence. Now, he couldn’t help but worry about Dou Zhao’s condition.

Her delicate passage was still slightly swollen...

The thought flashed through his mind, causing his face to flush slightly, while his heart swelled with emotion, and his body grew uncontrollably warm.

He quickly pushed these thoughts aside.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he couldn’t resist stroking Dou Zhao’s forehead.

Even though she had been reborn and was a year older than Song Mo, he always treated her like a child—pinching her hands or caressing her face as if soothing a small animal. It both amused and slightly delighted her to experience this occasional pampering.

But recalling how, whenever she showed the slightest pleasure, Song Mo would preen like a proud Persian cat—not only holding his tail high with pride but also pressing his advantage until she was utterly overwhelmed and begging for mercy—she decided not to tell him.

"What were you doing?" Dou Zhao asked, a faint, unconscious smile playing on her lips as she sat up, hugging the quilt. "Why didn’t you light the lamp?"

"Didn’t want to wake you," Song Mo replied, stroking her cheek once more before tucking the quilt around her. "I found a map and was studying where those bandits might flee." Just then, Gan Lu brought in the chicken soup.

Song Mo took it from her. "Let me feed you."

It wasn’t as if she were ill and immobile.

Dou Zhao quickly said, "I can manage on my own!"

Song Mo didn’t insist, instead placing a large bolster behind her for support.

The chicken soup was rich and fragrant, warming her from within with the first sip.

"The soup is delicious," Dou Zhao said, scooping a spoonful and offering it to Song Mo. "Try some!"

Song Mo looked down at the spoon in the sweet white porcelain, his expression pausing slightly.

Many noble families adhered to separate dining, and the Dou family was no exception.

How had she absentmindedly offered him a spoonful?

Thinking of this, Dou Zhao sighed inwardly.

Whenever she recalled Song Mo’s fate in his past life, her heart ached faintly.But in this lifetime, Song Mo hadn't encountered those distressing matters. She ought to change this habit of hers—whenever there was something good, she always thought of saving it for Song Mo, feeling he had suffered too much...

Dou Zhao was about to withdraw her hand when Song Mo lowered his head and drank the chicken soup.

"The taste is really quite good," he said with a smile, turning to Gan Lu who was serving them. "Who made this? Reward her with two premium Red Envelopes."

Gan Lu, being an unmarried young girl, was happy yet somewhat bashful seeing Song Mo and Dou Zhao so affectionate. Blushing, she replied, "It was made by a woman from the farmstead called Sister Three-Stone." She then curtsied and added, "This servant will immediately convey the Young Lord's words and reward her with two premium Red Envelopes."

Song Mo nodded, his expression calm but his demeanor cheerful. Turning to Dou Zhao, he said, "Let me have a couple more sips."

"Oh!" Dou Zhao handed him the bowl.

"No need," Song Mo said. "Just scoop a couple of spoonfuls for me to taste."

He spoke so seriously that Dou Zhao, suspecting nothing, fed him two spoonfuls before realizing something was amiss. If he wanted more soup, he could simply have another bowl. Why drink from hers? Her portion was already small—a few more spoonfuls and it would be empty.

Just as Dou Zhao was about to hand him the bowl, Song Mo suddenly said, "The taste really is excellent!" Then he called to the maidservant, "Bring in another bowl."

When had she become so stingy? Overthinking a mere bowl of chicken soup?

Dou Zhao couldn't help but reflect on herself. Being of a straightforward nature, she quickly dismissed this trivial matter from her mind.

After they finished the soup, the maids entered to set up the evening meal.

Song Mo then said, "Shall we stay overnight at the farmstead? The outer courtyard is just overseeing repairs for a fire-damaged building—that's Tao Qizhong's responsibility. As for the inner courtyard, it's just daily provisions. It's not like they'll starve if you don't issue the Tallies for one day, right?"

Dou Zhao was both amused and exasperated. She wanted to say, "Young Lord, if I stay here tonight, The Duke of England's Mansion will have gone two days without issuing Tallies!"

But these were minor matters.

What truly concerned her was being far from oversight, alone with him, fearing he might take liberties...

Before she could voice her thoughts, Song Mo seemed to read her mind. He chuckled softly and whispered in her ear, "Indulging in pleasures goes against the principles of health preservation. Even if you occasionally indulge, surely you can't always be like this? With your delicate constitution, I'd be powerless anyway..." He even winked at her.

Dou Zhao's heart skipped a beat.

She inwardly scolded herself.

She really had let Song Mo muddle her thoughts.

Why hadn't she thought of using "health preservation" as an excuse to deter him?

Considering how short the intervals between their intimate moments were, she couldn't help but doubt his claim of being "powerless." She wondered if it was because Song Mo, having newly discovered these pleasures, was—as he put it—allowing himself some indulgence... For a moment, she felt caught in a dilemma.

"Alright, I was just teasing you," Song Mo said, noticing her expression and adopting a more serious tone. "Actually, I still have unfinished business—we should return tomorrow."

She really had let Song Mo confuse her!

If Song Mo fooled around during official duties, even as a treacherous official in his past life, he couldn't have maintained the emperor's favor for over a decade relying solely on his Merit for Supporting the Ascension.Dou Zhao nodded.

Song Mo smiled faintly, his smile as clean and bright as moonlight.

Once again, Dou Zhao felt she had been overthinking.

The two dined in silence. After the meal, Song Mo went to the study, summoned Lu Ming, closed the door, and played a few rounds of Go. Seeing it was getting late, he returned to the inner chamber.

Dou Zhao had already rearranged the room. A new flower vase had been placed on the kang table, holding a few chrysanthemum branches, instantly lending a warm and cozy atmosphere to the room.

Marriage really does make a difference.

Song Mo smiled as Dou Zhao attended to his washing up. Then they went to bed together.

Dou Zhao asked him how things were progressing.

"I've given all the necessary instructions," Song Mo replied. "There shouldn't be any major mishaps."

Since they were mobilizing people from the farmstead, there were bound to be many unsavory matters involved. Naturally, Dou Zhao didn’t press for details.

But Song Mo complained, "We should sleep back-to-back. Lying side by side like this lets cold air seep into the blankets."

It was only a few months into the year, yet he was already talking about cold air creeping under the covers...

But everyone has their own habits. They had just married and needed time to adjust.

Dou Zhao obediently turned over.

The youthful Song Mo. His back wasn’t particularly broad, but it was lean, warm, and he didn’t fidget much—it felt quite nice to lean against.

Dou Zhao closed her eyes and soon began to feel drowsy.

But then Song Mo turned over behind her.

Dou Zhao found herself nestled in Song Mo’s arms.

"Who said anything about sleeping back-to-back?" he muttered softly, pulling her close. "This feels much better." Then he nuzzled against her, as if settling into a comfortable position, and grew still.

Dou Zhao was both exasperated and amused.

But then Song Mo’s hand slipped inside her robe...

"Song Yantang!" Dou Zhao scolded, grabbing his wandering hand to stop him.

How had she so easily trusted Song Mo?

"Shou Gu, you’re so big here, so soft and fragrant... I can’t even hold it all in one hand... I love it..." he whispered in her ear.

Was this even human speech?

Dou Zhao’s face burned.

Then she felt the change in Song Mo’s body.

She stiffened instantly.

"How can you go back on your word!"

After their earlier passion, her body still ached slightly.

"I know you haven’t fully recovered yet," Song Mo murmured, gently kissing her earlobe. "I just want to hold you... Don’t move around..."

How feverish he was—something only she would ever know in this lifetime.

She truly didn’t dare move.

And Song Mo indeed made no further advances.

Gradually, Dou Zhao’s body relaxed.

Sensing her softness, Song Mo was overjoyed.

He truly had no intention of pressing further, but his body had other ideas.

If Dou Zhao had remained as stiff as a rock, how could he have borne it?

Hadn’t she said that being together should make them both feel comfortable?

He too wanted their time together to be happy and carefree.

Song Mo kissed her earlobes, her neck, her shoulders, even lifting her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her fingertips...

The feeling of being cherished and adored melted Dou Zhao’s resistance completely.

By the time Song Mo indulged again in the places he loved, Dou Zhao had little strength left to refuse. Of course, this was also because Song Mo didn’t push things further.

Song Mo smirked slyly.

There was no rush—they still had decades of good times ahead...Song Mo thought to himself, breathing in Dou Zhao's fragrance and feeling the smoothness and softness of her skin. Gradually, his mood relaxed, and he drifted into slumber.

The next morning, when Dou Zhao woke up, she found herself and Song Mo nestled together like two spoons.

Song Mo's hand still stubbornly cupped the fullness of her chest.

Dou Zhao couldn’t help but laugh.

Though there had been some moments along the way, Song Mo had indeed not taken advantage of her.

He had kept his promise to her.

That was what mattered most to her.

Dou Zhao was in high spirits.

She called out loudly to Song Mo, "Time to get up! We need to return to the Duke of England's Mansion."

By mid-morning, two carriages sped out from the Daxing farmstead.