Chapter 163: Zhao Cheng Doesn't Care About Him

The painted boat made one full circuit and returned to the original shore where it started.

The night had grown deep.

The number of sightseers along the bank had not diminished much. Some sat directly on the ground, conversing freely about this and that, using the water ripples, moonlight, and lamplight as their backdrop, appearing quite unrestrained and carefree.

Fan Xiao and the others were still not content.

But the child Zhou Yuanqi began to yawn.

Cheng Zhao also felt sleepy.

"We'll leave first," Zhou Yuanshen said. "Everyone need not see us off."

A wooden plank was laid down. Zhou Yuanshen stood in the middle, first helping Zhou Yuanqi down, then reaching for Cheng Zhao.

The three of them landed steadily on the shore. The plank was drawn back, and the painted boat continued to glide, stirring the water.

Helian Xuan stood by the window, watching them silently as they walked away, without uttering a word.

Someone consoled him: "The Duke of Chen merely had a lucky win. If they played another round, he might not repeat his Trick of the Twin Fishing Rods."

Helian Xuan smiled faintly.

His smile did not reach his eyes.

Cheng Chao glanced over in that direction. But he did not walk over, nor did he wish to discuss the affairs of Cheng Zhao and her husband with the Prince of Andong.

In Cheng Chao's view, the discord between himself and his younger sister was a family matter.

Family matters were of utmost importance and could not be shared with any outsider, not even with a close friend like the Prince.

Cheng Chao would complain about Cheng Zhao to his elder brothers and sisters, and he would also curse her in his heart, but he rarely voiced his grievances to outsiders.

On the rare occasions he spoke a few words to the Prince of Andong, leading the Prince to think he was on his side, Cheng Chao felt caught in an awkward position.

He needed to have a stand.

And his stand was naturally his sister.

The trio from the Ducal Mansion of Chen headed home, but they separated into two carriages.

It was because Zhou Yuanshen said, "Yuanqi, sit with me. I have something to ask you alone."

Zhou Yuanqi, either feeling guilty or something else, immediately refused: "I have nothing to answer. If you want to interrogate me, take it to the magistrate's office."

He quickly climbed into another carriage, avoiding Zhou Yuanshen.

The other carriage also carried Cheng Zhao's maidservants.

"Is he deliberately provoking me just to shake me off?" Zhou Yuanqi couldn't help but suspect.

But he didn't say it out loud.

Once he voiced his suspicion, it would seem as if he had fallen for the trick, undermining his authority. He intended to become Grand Chancellor and the foremost scholar of the realm someday; how could he act foolishly? If he truly had been thrown off by a provocation, he had no choice but to swallow his anger in silence.

The carriage rumbled forward. No lantern was lit inside, and the compartment was pitch dark.

Initially, Zhou Yuanshen and Cheng Zhao sat facing each other.

After they had traveled some distance, he moved over and sat down beside her.

Cheng Zhao was caught between exasperation and amusement.

"Why did you move over?" she asked. "Aren't you refusing to speak to me?"

Zhou Yuanshen gently grasped her chin and turned her face toward him.

His kiss landed softly on her lips.

Cheng Zhao did not pull away.

She let out a soft snort.

"Cheng Zhao, I just needed to sort out some things," he said.

"What things do you need to sort out? Why must you sulk about it?" Cheng Zhao said.

She hadn't been angry at first. But as she thought about his recent words and actions, an inexplicable rage surged within her, growing fiercer the more she spoke.

"We talked about this before. I don't want to rehash the past," he said.

"What did we talk about?"

"You said that you only wanted to be the Duchess of Chen," Zhou Yuanshen said. "Even if I were no longer the Duke, you'd still only want to be the Duchess."

Cheng Zhao fell silent.

She had indeed said those words.

"I was muddled for a while, Cheng Zhao. You didn't do anything wrong. I simply forgot what you once said," he said.

Cheng Zhao didn't know how to respond.

She was silent for a long while before saying, "Isn't that good, Lord Duke? You won't easily find a more understanding, generous, and magnanimous wife than me."

Zhou Yuanshen gave a short laugh.

It was a scoff, mixed with bitterness, a peculiar smile.

"Am I wrong?" Cheng Zhao pressed on.

"... No," Zhou Yuanshen said.

Cheng Zhao still seethed with indignation.

Men were insatiable, always wanting more. When young, they craved affection and wanted their wives to be deeply devoted. As they aged and their wives grew old, they would then complain about their jealousy and possessiveness.

Marriage was meant to unite two families, with both sides supporting each other.

If he sought deep passion in his wife, resentment would surely grow later, accusing her of being too fiery and controlling.

Cheng Zhao had always known what it meant to be a wife, and she understood what a titled noblewoman should be. She had done nothing wrong.

"Cheng Zhao."

"Hm?"

"Cheng Zhao."

Cheng Zhao looked at him. In the dark carriage, she could only make out his silhouette.

He called her again, "Cheng Zhao."

Cheng Zhao immediately reached up to cover his mouth. "Don't call me like that!"

Zhou Yuanshen pulled her into his arms.

Cheng Zhao tried to struggle, but she ended up straddling his lap.

He embraced her even more easily, holding her tightly, pressing her firmly against him.

Men naturally radiated heat, and two cups of wine had heightened his warmth; he was like a brazier. Even his clothes felt hot, let alone the breath he exhaled.

"Cheng Zhao," he whispered by her ear again.

Cheng Zhao bent her head and kissed him, silencing his words.

Don't call her name anymore.

As if she mattered so much.

If he kept this up, she feared she would be dragged into his emotional whirlpool.

She didn't want to end up covered in wounds.

Zhou Yuanshen supported the back of her head and deepened the kiss.

Cheng Zhao's body went half limp, and she let him kiss her, soft and yielding.

"Should we take the long way around half the city back home?" he murmured.

Through a haze, Cheng Zhao heard herself answer, "Yes."

The experience this time proved even better than before. Cheng Zhao was almost swept away by sheer pleasure.

When they returned to the Camellia Courtyard late in the night, they bathed together. She leaned quietly against Zhou Yuanshen.

Zhou Yuanshen said, "Cheng Zhao, from now on I won't be greedy anymore. Just the two of us this way—it's good enough."

"Mm."

Cheng Zhao seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"So starting now, I'll come to you twice a month, as you once suggested. The rest of the time, I'll sleep elsewhere," he said.

Cheng Zhao asked, "Aren't you upset?"

"Husband and wife—it seems this is how most households are. I have no reason to be troubled," he said.

"If this isn't a sarcastic remark, then I'll go along with it," Cheng Zhao said.

Zhou Yuanshen hummed in acknowledgment.

He looked down at her expression, which had turned noticeably relaxed. His fingers tightened slightly, just like his constricted heart.

He kissed her.

Cheng Zhao, having gotten what she wanted, was unexpectedly gentle and docile. She returned his kiss as if to satiate him and then send him on his way.

She did not like his excessive involvement in her life.

A proper wife's life was about managing the household, raising children, and overseeing servants.

On Cheng Zhao's side, there were attendants to wait on her and ways to amuse herself.

She lacked a child, but a husband had never been part of the Camellia Courtyard's daily affairs.

Zhou Yuanshen told himself he could manage.

Life merely had to return to how it was before.

He was also very occupied with his official duties, with too many tasks demanding his attention. Once he busied himself and grew distant from the inner chambers, he would not be so angry about her coldness any more, nor would he feel such resentment or discontent.

It was better to pull himself out now, before he fell too deeply.

He kissed her.

His actions carried an air of determination.

Finally, Zhou Yuanshen bit down fiercely on Cheng Zhao's lip, as if intending to leave a tooth mark there, ending his longing and returning everything to the way it was before—the normal, so-called ordinary marriage of a noble house.

The next day, as usual, he rose early to attend the morning court.

In the afternoon, he had to go to the Capital Garrison Camp.

This trip to the Garrison Camp would only last three days, since he would accompany the Emperor on a hunting trip at the end of June.

He went first to bid farewell to his mother. Then he turned toward the Camellia Courtyard. But halfway there, he remembered that she would probably think it was an intrusion and fault him for meddling.

Zhou Yuanshen changed direction and headed to his outer study instead.

He sent Mingyu, his senior maidservant, to inform Cheng Zhao.

It was merely a notification—just to let her know where he was, fulfilling his duty as a husband.

Not that Cheng Zhao would care anyway.