Jiang Chun straightened her face, spoke coldly: “Uncle Zhang’s meaning, I understand. It’s just that perhaps Uncle Zhang doesn’t know—ever since my grandmother stripped my father of all his assets and drove him out of the house, the two families have almost cut ties completely. Everyone lives their own lives. Don’t say my father can’t control my grandmother—even my grandmother, she can’t control my father.”
Without waiting for Zhang Fang to respond, she directly waved her hand in a big gesture, spoke nonchalantly: “Please go back and tell your old madam—if my grandmother sends a matchmaker to the door again, no need to give my father any face, just have someone beat the matchmaker out with sticks, that’s fine. My father isn’t afraid of losing face, and won’t blame your family.”
Zhang Fang was secretly delighted, but on the surface he still put on a difficult expression: “This isn’t very proper, is it?”
As expected, this sea-patrolling night-demon is the one to talk to. See how decisively she speaks—this directly saves the Qiu family from all future worries.
The Qiu family says they’re considering Jiang He’s face, but in truth, Jiang He’s face isn’t worth much.
The reason they didn’t directly throw the matchmaker out was only because they had concerns about Jiang Chun, the sea-patrolling night-demon.
They didn’t think Jiang He’s face was worth much, but Jiang Chun definitely wouldn’t think the same way. What if she felt the Qiu family had made her father lose face and came to the Qiu family to stir up trouble?
Everyone in the Qiu family tied together wouldn’t last three punches and two kicks from her.
And besides, they’re related by marriage—even if they got beaten up by her, it would be for nothing.
With Zheng Yi, that uncle-in-law, stuck in the middle, the Qiu family couldn’t report to the authorities, nor could they make her pay silver. Wouldn’t they just be beaten for nothing?
Jiang Chun slanted her eyes to look at him, snorted and laughed: “What’s not proper about it? Is my father’s face more important, or your family’s young lady’s reputation more important?”
She added: “Besides, my father and my grandmother have long since had nothing to do with each other. If she loses her face, that’s her business, has nothing to do with my father. Others won’t laugh at him either.”
Pausing a moment, she let out a cold snort from her nostrils: “I’d like to see who has the guts to laugh at my father!”
Zhang Fang’s face immediately broke into a broad smile: “With Biaoguniang’s words, we now have a plan to follow!”
Then he gave Jiang Chun a burst of lavish praise: “It’s got to be Biaoguniang! Biaogu Laoye really had good foresight, letting you be the guardian of the kitchen stove. With you managing the household, the Jiang family will only get more and more prosperous.”
Then he pointed at the gift box placed on the table, smiled and said: “Our old madam heard that Biaogu Laoye’s health has been a bit weak, so she asked me to bring over some medicinal herbs others gifted her, to give to Biaoguniang. We hope Biaoguniang won’t mind.”
Jiang Chun naturally wouldn’t mind—there’s no such thing as cheap medicinal herbs these days.
She smiled and said: “Receiving your old madam’s good things.”
Saying this, she called out toward the outside: “Dad, pack a sack of radishes, let Uncle Zhang take them back later.”
Then she turned to Zhang Fang and smiled: “Grown in our own fields, nothing fancy, just for your old madam to have a taste.”
Relatives, after all, ought to pay attention to courtesy and reciprocity.
Zhang Fang naturally wouldn’t refuse a relative’s return gift on behalf of his master’s family. He used the mule cart to haul a sack of radishes back to the town.
Jiang Chun opened the gift box on the table and saw that the medicinal herbs inside were all ones she recognized—one package of Huangqi (Astragalus), one package of Danggui (Angelica Sinensis), one package of longan, and one package of goji berries.
She pinched a longan in her hand, peeled off the skin, and stuffed it into her mouth to taste—it was quite sweet.
So she peeled another, and on a whim, stuffed it into Song Shi’an’s mouth, her words muffled: “Try it, it’s pretty sweet.”
Then she grabbed a handful, brought it outside, and stuffed them into Jiang He’s hands while he was examining the mule cart.
When she came back inside, seeing that Song Shi’an had finished eating one, she peeled another and brought it up to his mouth.
Song Shi’an turned his head away, saying: “You eat it yourself. If I want to eat, I’ll peel it myself.”
Jiang Chun stubbornly held up her hand, mumbling: “This thing replenishes qi and blood. My qi and blood are full, body all warm and toasty, no need to supplement. Dad doesn’t need it either. We’re just tasting it for the flavor. The rest is all for you to eat.”
Song Shi’an lifted his eyes, fixedly looking at her for a moment, then finally opened his lips, took the longan from her hand into his mouth.
In the process, his lips inevitably brushed against Jiang Chun’s fingertips—the warm, soft touch made a tingling sensation run down Jiang Chun’s spine.
She leaned over, bumped her shoulder against his, and whispered: “When we get the heater back tomorrow, we’ll have to sleep in separate blankets. Tonight is the last time we can cuddle to sleep…”
Song Shi’an was originally sitting on the edge of the kang. When she bumped him like this, he directly toppled over onto the kang.
This made Jiang Chun burst out laughing. She teased, with a knowing look: “Husband, how come you just fall over with a push? You’re too easy to push.”
Song Shi’an propped himself up on the kang, glared at her, and snapped: “Why didn’t you use a bit more strength and knock me straight outside the wall?”
Jiang Chun scooted closer, grinning doggedly as she massaged his shoulders, smiling as she said: “How could I bear to? Husband, you’re my heart and liver treasure.”
Song Shi’an batted her paw away, gave a soft snort: “All you know is flowery words all day long.”
Jiang Chun leaned in close to his ear, whispered: “I actually want to have a good real fight with you—blades drawn and weapons clashing kind of fight—but it’s just a pity your body can’t handle it yet.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
He closed his eyes, helplessly said: “In broad daylight, could you say less of this kind of filthy talk?”
Jiang Chun latched onto this, grinning: “Husband means I can say it at night? Alright, alright, I’ll listen to husband.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
He nearly laughed in exasperation.
This woman, her head is filled with nothing proper—whatever he says, she can always twist it back to this topic.
He really didn’t know what to say to her.
But that being said, when it got to nighttime, when she was in the blankets twisting and writhing like a twisted dough, humming and mumbling, begging him to kiss her, in the end, he still couldn’t hold out.
Song Shi’an reached out, cupped the back of Jiang Chun’s head, brought his mouth close, and seized her red lips.
He held her lips in his mouth, patiently sucking, biting, licking for quite a while, then pried open her teeth with his tongue, extending it into her mouth, tangling and entwining with her tongue.
Then, learning from what she did earlier, his lips caught hold of her tongue, sucked it in, then spat it out, spat it out then sucked it back in, going back and forth, over and over again.
Leaving Jiang Chun breathless, gasping for air, her body twisting even more like a twisted dough.
And the more she bathed in it, the more insatiable her desire became.
She pulled open the tie of her small inner garment, pressed his head downward, hinting that he should kiss somewhere else.
Song Shi’an let go of her lips and tongue, but didn’t follow her expectation to move to her front—instead, he started kissing her neck.
Light and dense sucking fell upon the side of her neck. Jiang Chun closed her eyes, petal-like lips slightly open, intermittently letting out fine, broken sounds, clearly enjoying herself immensely.
Song Shi’an lingered at her neck for quite a while before slowly moving down.
The pink grapes fell into his mouth. Jiang Chun grabbed the mattress with one hand, but her body couldn’t help but arch up, sending herself higher.
Her other hand fumbled to grab one of his hands and covered it over her other side.
Song Shi’an’s phoenix eyes suddenly widened round.
But he didn’t pull his hand away—instead, as if without a teacher, he instinctively mastered the dough-kneading and grape-plucking techniques.
Two lines progressing simultaneously, mouth and hand working together. Jiang Chun was so delighted she nearly ascended to immortality on the spot.
After everything ended, Jiang Chun reached out and pulled the exhausted Song Shi’an into her arms, letting his head rest against her front.
Her fingers combed through the long hair scattered across the bed, one stroke at a time, as she said with lingering meaning: “Really wish husband’s body would recover sooner, so I can eat meat to my heart’s content.”
Song Shi’an had kissed too intensely just now, using too much force. At this moment, both his mouth and tongue felt a little numb.
He let out a weak hum and said: “You insatiable creature… even if my body recovers, sooner or later I’ll be wrung dry by you.”
Jiang Chun tugged lightly at his earlobe in disapproval: “Nonsense. How could I, who cares so much for husband’s health, ever demand without restraint? At most, once every three days.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
Once every three days and that’s not called demanding without restraint?
He didn’t say anything wrong—she truly was an insatiable creature.
Fortunately, before his disaster, his body had been strong, steadfastly practicing martial arts daily, so he likely wouldn’t be unable to satisfy her.
He came from an aristocratic family, and the men he’d seen all had three wives, four concubines, and a pile of bed servants. He’d never felt there was anything wrong with that.
But now, he was full of doubts: they kept so many women—how could their bodies withstand it?
No wonder in every family, there were always long-lived old ladies, but hardly any long-lived old men.
Their lifespans were all drained away on women’s bellies.
The reason his brother-in-law, Emperor Qingchun, was able to live to eighty years old was probably all thanks to having only his elder sister in the imperial harem.
Otherwise, how could he have the chance to hold an eighty-year-old birthday banquet? He’d have long since become the late emperor.
Looks like if he wanted to live a long life, he absolutely must not take concubines or bed servants.
Ahem, even if not for the sake of longevity, he wouldn’t dare take concubines or bed servants.
With Jiang Chun’s violent temper, if he dared to take concubines or bed servants, she’d beat both him and those so-called concubines and bed servants half to death, then tear down the roof of the Song family’s house.
And that would still be considered light.
He even suspected that she’d wait for him to fall asleep and directly castrate him.
After all, her pig-castrating skills were famous, even better than her master Jiang He’s. Whichever family in the village wanted to castrate pigs, they were all happy to find her.
Song Shi’an shifted his butt uneasily. He didn’t know if it was just his imagination from scaring himself, but he actually felt a bit chilly down below.