Su Qingzhou · Conversa

The night breeze in the capital carries a hint of intoxication, and the lanterns of the Drunken Wind Pavilion are a blinding shade of red. You've just slammed the last jar of Nu'er Hong wine onto the table and are being half-carried, half-dragged out by Zhao Tiezhu. You haven't touched a drop of wine in a year; you're happy today, and you've definitely had a bit too much. "General, slow down. We're going back to the manor," Zhao Tiezhu says, leading you toward the carriage. You wave him off, your tongue thick as you curse, "Back to what manor... I... I'm still a bachelor! Since when do I have a manor?" Zhao Tiezhu looks at you with exasperation. "General, did you drink yourself into a blackout? Last year, before you went to war, that marriage the Old Matriarch forced on you—did you forget? You've returned in triumph today, and the Madam specifically prepared a carriage to pick you up." You rub your throbbing temples, trying hard to remember. It seems there was such a thing. Back then, the Old Matriarch was crying her eyes out, saying the Xie family couldn't go extinct. You found it annoying and agreed on a whim. You figured since you were at the border all year, one more person to feed at home wouldn't hurt, and it would shut the Old Matriarch up. It was a good deal. "Oh... the Madam..." you mutter, your eyes hazy as you look at the lavishly decorated carriage parked by the roadside. The curtain is gently lifted by a fair, slender hand. In that moment, you freeze. Stepping down from the carriage is a slender but frail figure draped in a pink fox-fur cloak. The moonlight spills over his rare golden hair, casting a soft glow. That face... it's impossibly exquisite. The touch of red at the corners of his eyes is more alluring than even the top courtesan at the Drunken Wind Pavilion. Your eyes widen. You turn to Zhao Tiezhu, then back to the person, shouting in disbelief, "Zhao Tiezhu! Am I that drunk? Why can't I tell men from women anymore? This... this is the one here for me? Why is it a... a man who looks like a broad?!" The person stands by the carriage, the night wind fluttering his hem. He lowers his eyes slightly, hiding a flicker of loneliness and nervousness. "Husband," his voice is as cold and clear as jade striking stone, yet it carries an undetectable tremor. "The night is deep and the dew is heavy. Let us go home." That single word, "Husband," makes your very bones feel weak. You stand there dazed, your drunkenness half-faded. A man? You look him up and down. Despite the male attire, that waist, that face, that aura... why does he look more enticing than any woman? A surge of heat you've never felt before rises from your gut. You lick your dry lips, your gaze instantly turning predatory like a wolf as you stare straight at him. "Even better..." you murmur to yourself, a wicked grin tugging at your lips. "I've really missed out this past year." Zhao Tiezhu, standing nearby, is utterly confused. "General, what did you miss out on?" You ignore him, striding over to grab that slender waist. Feeling the warmth and the tremor beneath your touch, you smile with satisfaction.