Chapter 4  

With the bloodline secured, whether the male matrilineal husband sleeps around or not doesn’t matter  

After Xijin got up and left, she spoke with some elders from the clan for a while before using Mang Er’s drowsiness as an excuse to leave early.  

As she stood to go, she passed through the outer hall, intending to give A Chou a meaningful glance so he could find a reason to follow.  

When she approached, she saw A Chou sitting among some of the younger clan members, chatting.  

At a glance, A Chou stood out—elegant and strikingly handsome, like an immortal descended to earth, making the other young men of similar age appear utterly ordinary in comparison.  

She sighed inwardly—*Too good-looking, no wonder he attracts all those admirers.*  

She suspected Xi Yu secretly harbored feelings for A Chou.  

But she didn’t dwell on it. A Chou was her male matrilineal husband—he wouldn’t dare misbehave.  

If he ever did, she could simply write him a letter of divorce. After all, she already had her bloodline secured—no need to cling to him.  

*With the bloodline settled, the male matrilineal husband can be tossed aside!*  

Just as this thought crossed her mind, she overheard the young men discussing court affairs.  

They said the Emperor had originally fathered many Imperial Sons, with the eldest being named Crown Prince. However, years ago, he had committed some offense and was exiled. Since then, the Emperor had delayed appointing a new Crown Prince, leading to much turmoil. Now, the remaining Imperial Sons had either fallen ill and died or been exiled—one even imprisoned.  

In short, there were no Imperial Sons left—no heirs.  

At this point, the Emperor, filled with regret, remembered his exiled eldest son. And when he thought of the young Imperial Grandson from back then, his heart ached even more.  

One of the young men shook his head dramatically. “When people grow old, they start valuing their descendants. Even the Emperor, despite his lofty position, is still flesh and blood. That’s why they say the bond skips a generation—he’s already cleared the Crown Prince’s name and is now searching for the long-lost Imperial Grandson!”  

Beside him, Si Lang gasped. “If he’s found, wouldn’t the Imperial Grandson become the Grandson of the Emperor?”  

The others nodded eagerly. “Of course! The Imperial Throne has no heir now!”  

As they rambled on excitedly, Second Uncle from the clan frowned and came over to scold them. “You youngsters have no filter—how dare you casually discuss such weighty court matters?”  

Si Lang muttered sheepishly, “We’re just among family, behind closed doors—what’s the harm?”  

Second Uncle sternly replied, “No exceptions! Matters concerning the Emperor demand discretion!”  

The young men hastily agreed, and once Second Uncle moved to another table, the banquet chatter quieted down.  

Xijin gently patted Mang Er’s back, and the child blinked before whimpering pitifully, bursting into tears.  

Hearing this, the group turned to look.  

Xijin said, “Mang Er’s crying—I can’t handle him alone.”  

The clan brothers shot A Chou sympathetic looks.  

While the other men drank and chatted freely, their wives would naturally handle the children indoors. But A Chou, as a male matrilineal husband, had it rough—summoned by his wife to tend to their child.  

Si Lang smirked, clearly amused by A Chou’s predicament.  

Under the mixed gazes of the others, A Chou stood, bid them farewell, took Mang Er from Xijin, and followed her out.  

The couple walked in silence until they left the hall, passed through the crescent moon gate, and entered the narrow passage between the walls. Only then did Xijin finally speak.

She mused, “From what I gather, the imperial family is searching for their Imperial Grandson who was lost among the common people?”

A Chou paused briefly before replying, “That seems to be the case.”

Xijin asked, “And what about you? What are your thoughts now?”

A Chou suddenly turned his head to look at her.  

She had dressed meticulously today—lightly powdered with rouge, her cheeks faintly flushed. The crossed collar of her brocade jacket accentuated her slender neck, standing out vividly against the red walls and blue tiles, more striking than the winter plum blossoms in the corner.  

After gazing at her for a moment, he said, “Should I have any particular thoughts?”  

Xijin snorted, casting him a sidelong glance with her clear, bright eyes. “Shouldn’t you?”  

A Chou raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”  

Xijin lifted her chin. “You should think carefully about your current status!”  

With that, she flicked her sleeve and strode ahead.  

A Chou, holding Mang Er, stood silently by the wall for a long while.  

What did she mean by that?  

***********  

Upon returning home, as soon as they stepped through the gate, Sun Momo and Qiuling came forward to greet them. Sun Momo began listing the various provisions prepared for the household. The New Year’s feast naturally required more lavish fare than usual—three or four large sea bass, each weighing three to five catties, along with generous portions of braised pork in bowls, crab-stuffed oranges, and spring rolls, among other delicacies.  

The Ning family’s New Year’s Eve dinner tradition demanded seven plates and eight bowls piled high on the table—no skimping was allowed for the occasion.  

While A Chou oversaw the courtyard with the servants, Xijin busied herself indoors with inquiries. She asked about the rice wine, to which Sun Momo replied they had procured it from the Sun Family in the eastern part of the city.  

“We usually get ours from the Li Family, but since the 18th of the twelfth lunar month, the queue has been endless. We tried three times but couldn’t get our turn, so we settled for the Sun Family in the east. They say their brew is quite decent too.”  

Xijin asked, “Didn’t Second Aunt mention the other day that her family had ordered seven or eight barrels from her relatives? She said they’d share some with us?”  

Sun Momo nodded. “That’s what she said, but when the delivery arrived, the single barrel was divided among several households and ran out before we got any.”  

Xijin fell silent for a moment before nodding. “Well, it’s all rice wine. How much difference can there be? The Sun Family’s will do.”  

Just then, A Chou entered and caught the tail end of the conversation.  

He glanced at her and said, “The Sun Family’s brew is indeed good. Their recipe is actually the same as the Li Family’s.”  

Xijin ignored his remark and simply said, “Let’s prepare everything. The Hu Family will arrive soon.”  

Everyone nodded and hurried off to the kitchen.  

Before long, the Hu Family arrived—Old Master Hu, accompanied by his son and daughter-in-law, along with a young grandson dressed in a bright red cotton-padded jacket.  

As they entered, Xijin and A Chou went out to welcome them. Xijin warmly greeted them as “Uncle” and took the daughter-in-law’s hand, ushering them inside, while A Chou exchanged pleasantries with Hu Da Bo and his son.  

During the conversation, Xijin presented the little grandson with a red satin-wrapped Top Scholar Silver Ingot.  

They were the family’s Grave Relatives.  

Grave Relatives were those who tended to the family’s ancestral graves. Old Master Hu helped maintain the tombs of Xijin’s parents. Though such families were far beneath their hosts in status, the descendants treated them as kin—a sign of respect for their ancestors.

In truth, the Ning family had plenty of relatives who kept in touch within the clan, so Xijin didn’t need to handle those connections personally. The ones she had to maintain separately were her own maternal relatives and the Grave Relatives, as well as the shop managers and clerks—those were the ones she needed to pay extra attention to during the New Year.

After lunch was served and the guests seen off, she gave Hu Da Bo’s family a token of gratitude wrapped in silver before politely sending them on their way. With that, the matter was finally settled.

By then, Mang Er was already drowsy, and the nursemaid took him to a side room to nap. Sun Momo, along with two maids, tidied up the house inside and out, and soon everything was in order.

Xijin then gave them leave, telling Sun Momo and the others to go out and enjoy the festive decorations or take a nap at home—whatever they pleased.

Once all this was done, Xijin herself felt rather weary and lay down on the bed for a rest. Just then, A Chou came over, intending to lie down as well.

Xijin sensed his movements but kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

But then, as soon as A Chou climbed onto the bed and lifted the brocade quilt, he moved closer to her.

At first, it was subtle, but by the time Xijin realized what was happening, his strong arms were already around her.

She tried to push him away, but today he was more insistent than usual. And he knew exactly where her weaknesses lay—within moments, she was stirred.

Inside and outside the house, all was quiet. It was the New Year, after all—the servants had all gone out, the nursemaid had put Mang Er to sleep, and only the occasional crackle of firecrackers from a neighboring household could be heard.

Both of them were still young, having been married for only three years, and at night, they had energy to spare—indulging in reckless abandon.

At the height of it, Xijin opened her eyes and looked up at the man above her.

Normally, he was tall and slender, with a somewhat lean build. But from this angle, his back was slightly arched, his hips driving with force, his chest muscles taut—utterly masculine.

His usually cool and detached expression was now lost in passion, his thin lips parted as he gasped for breath.

She had known this man for years. He was always quiet, seemingly indifferent to everything, like a block of ice.

The only things that could thaw him were Mang Er—and moments like this.

A mischievous thought crossed Xijin’s mind.

She lifted her arms to wrap around him, then—as if by accident—grabbed a handful of his jet-black hair.

She tugged, hard enough that he certainly felt it.

He paused, bracing himself on either side of her, looking down at her with darkened eyes.

In the midst of their intimacy, he held back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the faint blue veins on his forehead standing out.

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, landing on her skin with a sizzling heat.

Xijin bit her lip and stayed silent.

She understood his meaning well enough—she had pulled his hair, and now he was forcing himself to stop, refusing to move.

There was an unspoken challenge in it.

He was testing her—testing whether she liked it, testing whether she would yield to this veiled coercion.

Xijin smirked coldly. She didn’t let go. Instead, she deliberately tightened her grip.

She wanted to make him suffer.

His scalp stung, and his dark eyes bore into hers, simmering with anger.

This kind of pain was probably enough to make any man lose interest.

Finally, Xijin released him and gave him a shove, trying to push him off.

She did enjoy it—but if he was going to use it against her, then—

She’d just have to quit!

Let’s see who gives in first!

The man’s large hands pressed firmly against her palms, pinning her down on either side—she couldn’t move.  

This helpless position made her flush with irritation. She commanded in a low voice, “Let me go!”  

But A Chou leaned down, murmuring by her ear, “I’m in pain.”  

His scorching breath fanned over her ear, and her delicate face burned as if on fire. Yet she bit her lip stubbornly and turned her face away.  

Enough was enough—she was done with this!  

They already had a child—what did it matter whether she slept with this Male Matrilineal Marriage or not?  

A Chou lowered his voice. “You did that on purpose.”  

Xijin let out a soft scoff. “So you *do* know what pain feels like.”  

A Chou’s gaze fixed on her eyes, studying her intently.  

Xijin: “When your son pulls your hair, you’re endlessly patient. But now, suddenly, you know pain?”  

A Chou watched her in silence, lips pressed tightly together, saying nothing.  

Xijin: “Let me go. Get up already—”  

But A Chou abruptly exerted force.  

Caught off guard, Xijin let out a small gasp.  

Then came the earth-shaking turbulence.  

Xijin felt as if she were drowning, breathless, overwhelmed by an indescribable sensation. She could only clutch his arm tightly.  

Much later, Xijin slowly steadied her breathing, lazily closing her eyes as she savored the lingering aftershocks.  

He stretched out an arm, pulling her into an embrace, holding her tightly as they basked in each other’s warmth.  

But then—almost imperceptibly—she felt something cold.  

She froze for a moment before realizing: it was his Pendant.  

Instantly, all pleasure vanished. She pushed him away with force. “Get up—”  

A Chou stiffened slightly at her shove, but before he could react, she had already broken free.  

Then, with a sudden flounce, like a fish leaping onto shore, she flipped over, turning her back to him.  

A Chou stared at her silhouette—the undulating curves of her side profile, the narrow dip of her soft waist accentuating the alluring swell below.  

A reckless urge surged within him—to tear apart the thin, delicate red Brocade quilt…  

But after a long pause, he finally rose from the bed and pushed open the door.  

Under the eaves, the young maid Suier was still there, fiddling with a Rabbit Lantern—preparations for the upcoming Lantern Festival.  

He spoke. “Why aren’t you out playing?”  

Only then did he notice how hoarse his voice sounded.  

The aftermath of what had just transpired hadn’t yet faded.  

Suier looked up at him with a sweet smile. “I thought I should stay in case the mistress or master needed anything.”  

A Chou understood—Xijin had dangled promises of advancement before her, and the girl was eager to prove herself.  

He gave a slight nod. “Fetch some hot water.”