Mo Zhu had drunk quite a bit of wine, the alcohol making his head throb and his steps unsteady. His tolerance wasn’t particularly high, and he rarely indulged in such things.
Taking advantage of the banquet’s commotion, Mo Zhu found a quiet corner to sit, rubbing his temples as the alcohol’s effects churned uncomfortably within him. His mind was foggy, and his body felt heavy—nothing seemed quite right.
In his dazed state, he sensed someone settling beside him. Mo Zhu turned his head slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he didn’t speak first.
It was Sui Ji.
He lowered his head, idly swirling a cup of wine in his hand before speaking softly, "Had too much?"
"Mn." Mo Zhu responded indifferently, his tone neither warm nor cold.
Sui Ji didn’t take offense. Instead, he handed Mo Zhu a teacup. "It’s salted—helps with the drunkenness."
"Thanks."
Mo Zhu didn’t refuse, downing it in one go.
The spot he’d chosen was secluded, tucked away from the crowd. The two tall figures sitting in the cramped corner made the space feel even narrower.
Sui Ji gazed at the distant wedding festivities, the lively scene reflected in his eyes, leaving only a hollow ache in his chest. "I owe you an apology. When I asked Yu Zhiling to accompany me into the Demon Abyss, I had ulterior motives. I wanted to use her help to kill You Zhou. I knew only she had the power to do it."
Mo Zhu’s expression remained unchanged. "The one you should apologize to isn’t me. It’s my master."
Sui Ji chuckled bitterly, lowering his head. "You’re right."
Mo Zhu closed his eyes, massaging his temples. The alcohol’s grip hadn’t loosened, not even after the salted water.
After a long silence, Sui Ji spoke again, his voice distant. "My wedding with Ning was just as grand. We invited so many people back then."
Mo Zhu’s hand stilled, but he said nothing, only glancing at him.
Sui Ji’s gaze was unfocused, lost in thought as he murmured absently, "Mo Zhu… you two are fortunate."
Mo Zhu frowned slightly, understanding what he meant. In the past, he might have responded with a cold retort, but now, after everything that had happened, those words no longer came easily.
Sui Ji exhaled softly, then stood, clapping Mo Zhu on the shoulder.
"Enough talking. Just… be happy. I’ll go back to the banquet. If you can’t handle more wine, don’t force yourself. You still have to go back to her tonight."
With that, he left, disappearing quickly into the crowd.
Mo Zhu looked down at the teacup in his hand. After a long moment, he set it aside and rose.
He returned to the banquet, drinking cup after cup until his cheeks burned crimson and his vision swam. Xiang Wuxue, standing closest to him, noticed his unsteadiness and quickly intervened.
"He rarely drinks—his tolerance is low. He still has to return to Xiao Wu later. Let’s not push him too hard."
With Xiang Wuxue and the others shielding him, Mo Zhu managed to avoid dozens more cups. But by the time the banquet ended and the guests had dispersed, he was barely standing. As he turned to leave, his vision blurred, and he nearly collapsed, barely catching himself against a stone pillar.
Wedding banquets were meant for celebration, and using spiritual energy to dispel alcohol was forbidden. He had genuinely downed over a hundred cups.
Staggering step by step, Mo Zhu rubbed his temples as he made his way to the inner courtyard. Red silk ribbons adorned every tree along the path, a joyful sight—proof of their union today.
The marriage vows had been exchanged, the ceremony completed. They were now truly, rightfully, husband and wife.
Mo Zhu paused outside the door. The thin curtain couldn’t block the warm, golden light spilling from within. He heard no sounds, didn’t know what Yu Zhiling was doing, but he knew she was there.
She was inside. In their home.
His hand rested on the door handle. He’d entered this room countless times, yet today, for the first time, his nerves tightened.
After steadying himself outside for a long moment, he finally pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it softly behind him. He walked past the beaded curtain, his gaze settling on the faint silhouette within.
Mo Zhu stood by the bed, staring for a long while before he finally confirmed—
She was asleep.
The weight of the phoenix crown and hairpins must have been too much, preventing her from lying down properly. Instead, she had dozed off sitting against the headboard. Yu Zhiling had drunk some wine too, though her tolerance was far better than Mo Zhu’s. She wasn’t drunk, but the drowsiness was undeniable.
Mo Zhu chuckled softly, kneeling to grasp her ankle and gently remove her shoes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a dark brown wooden box tucked by the bed. His head spun as he reached for it, the object blurring in his vision.
He opened the box, squinting at its contents. At first glance, all he could make out was something red. Rubbing his temples, he tried to clear the haze, pulling out… a garment.
He was no stranger to undressing Yu Zhiling—he’d done it many times, peeling away each layer, from the outermost robes to the innermost. She favored green, so most of her undergarments were of that color.
But this red fabric was made of ling silk—light, sheer, and impossibly soft. A single bolt could fetch thousands of spirit stones. The design seemed like a long underrobe, but the translucent gauze left little to the imagination.
Mo Zhu wondered if he was hallucinating. Frowning, he shook his head. There was no way Yu Zhiling would own something like this.
Just as he opened his eyes to take another look, the garment was abruptly snatched from his hands. He blinked up dazedly at Yu Zhiling, now sitting upright on the bed.
Yu Zhiling hastily stuffed the robe back into the box, her cheeks burning. She hadn’t expected Mei Qiongge to leave it hidden under the bed, let alone for Mo Zhu to find it.
Mo Zhu stared blankly. "Shizun?"
"Ah?"
Yu Zhiling turned to him, flustered, meeting his dark, hazy eyes. Mo Zhu knelt on one knee, his face flushed, gaze glazed, the scent of wine thick around him. He looked moments away from passing out.
"You… you’re drunk?" she asked hesitantly.
A pointless question—his state was obvious.
Mo Zhu swayed as he stood. Yu Zhiling moved to steady him, but before she could, the tall young man suddenly lurched forward, pinning her to the bed.
"Ah—Mo Zhu!"
The phoenix crown dug into her, but thankfully the soft bedding cushioned the impact.
"Shizun, Shizun… you’re so beautiful."
Mo Zhu cradled the back of her head, lifting it slightly to keep her from the hard headboard. His other hand traced the delicate arch of her painted brows, his touch tender, his gaze overflowing with warmth. His fingertips wandered from her brows to the teardrop adornment on her forehead, then down the bridge of her nose, finally brushing the corner of her phoenix eyes.
Yu Zhiling squirmed. "Mo Zhu, you’re drunk. Let me get you something to sober up."
But Mo Zhu was beyond reason. His throat moved as he stared at her, murmuring, "So beautiful… everything about you is beautiful."
Yu Zhiling rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I know. But you reek of wine. Let’s go bathe, alright?"
Mo Zhu tilted his head, sniffing his own sleeve, then grimaced. "Smells bad."
Yu Zhiling scratched his chin lightly: "So you do know it smells bad, huh? The alcohol is too strong. Let’s drink the wedding wine, then go bathe, alright?"
Perhaps his fastidiousness had kicked in, or maybe the words "wedding wine" had snapped him back to awareness, but Mo Zhu sobered up slightly, pushing himself upright and pulling Yu Zhiling up with him.
"Master, I’ll get the wine."
He stood, his steps unsteady as he made his way to the table, picking up the two prepared cups of wine and bringing them over.
The young man was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Yu Zhiling had never seen him wear anything but black before, but tonight, he was dressed in a vibrant red robe embroidered with intricate golden patterns.
His dark hair was tied up with an elegant jade crown, and his handsome features, flushed from the alcohol, took on a bewitching allure under the crimson fabric. His cheeks were rosy, as if lightly dusted with rouge.
Yu Zhiling arched a brow, watching as Mo Zhu approached and handed her the wedding wine.
"Master, drink."
She took the cup, linking arms with him as they downed the wine together.
The moment the last drop was gone, Mo Zhu set the cups aside on the bedside table and immediately slumped against Yu Zhiling, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
"Master, Master..."
He nuzzled her throat, his hands instinctively working to undo her sash.
Seeing him slip back into drunkenness, Yu Zhiling pressed a hand to his chest. "Wait—bathe first."
The words jolted him awake again. Mo Zhu shook his head. "Right, bathe."
The hot spring had already been prepared. Once they reached the bathing chamber, Mo Zhu wasted no time undressing Yu Zhiling, removing her jewelry and layers of wedding robes with surprising efficiency despite his intoxication. She couldn’t help but laugh at how adorably earnest he was.
As he peeled away the last of her garments, her slender, porcelain-like figure was revealed.
Mo Zhu’s throat bobbed, his gaze unwavering as it traced over her.
Yu Zhiling didn’t bother covering herself, stepping into the spring without hesitation and beckoning from the corner. "Come on in."
Obedient for once, Mo Zhu swiftly shed his own clothes, their garments tangled together in a heap on the floor.
He plunged into the water, closing the distance between them in an instant, pinning her against the edge before descending to kiss her neck.
The ticklish brush of his hair made Yu Zhiling giggle. She pushed at his head playfully. "You’re drunk—are you even up for this?"
Mo Zhu answered not with words but action, proving his capability as he deepened the kiss. The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue, sweet rather than bitter.
She expected him to take his time as he usually did, but tonight, he was impatient, lifting her leg without preamble. Yu Zhiling gasped, her protests muffled as pleasure overtook her.
Lost in the haze of alcohol, Mo Zhu was deaf to her words. Later, when she slapped his shoulder, whimpering about the rough edge of the spring scraping her back, he flipped her over—though they never left the water.
The sound of splashing mingled with their ragged breaths, and Yu Zhiling felt drunk herself, bracing her arms against the rim of the spring as her forehead pressed into them, her body trembling with each relentless thrust.
She couldn’t recall how late they’d carried on, only that the wind had picked up around midnight, slamming a window shut with a sharp crack that startled her awake. Blinking drowsily, she found herself cradled in Mo Zhu’s arms, already back in the bedchamber.
He drew the bed curtains around them, mouth trailing along her throat as Yu Zhiling melted back into the haze.
By dawn, the air inside the canopy was thick with the scent of their passion. The red silk quilt lay crumpled on the floor, its dried stains barely noticeable.
Within the bed, Yu Zhiling lay curled on her side, Mo Zhu wrapped around her from behind.
His chin rested atop her head, arms encircling her completely. His lashes were lowered as if asleep, yet one hand still massaged her abdomen, channeling warm spiritual energy to soothe her soreness.
Only a thin sheet covered them—thankfully, it was June, and the night wasn’t cold.
After a while, Yu Zhiling shifted, glancing at the arm draped over her waist. His lean forearm rested there, his broad palm gently kneading her stomach as he continued to ease her discomfort with his energy.
"Mo Zhu, are you still feeling unwell?" She tilted her head back, nuzzling his jaw. "Has the alcohol worn off?"
Mo Zhu opened his eyes, throat working before he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Just a little longer," he murmured hoarsely.
Yu Zhiling turned in his arms to face him.
"How much did you drink?"
"Too much." Mo Zhu cupped her face, leaning in until their foreheads touched, his voice laced with a whine. "Master, I was too rough last night. Does it hurt?"
Yu Zhiling kicked him under the sheet. "Hypocrite! You ask after you’ve had your way!"
Mo Zhu only clung tighter, pleading. "My fault—I was drunk."
"People say drunken men can’t perform!"
"I was drunk," he admitted shamelessly. "But I couldn’t help it—the moment I touch you, I lose control."
Yu Zhiling laughed, wrestling with him briefly before exhaustion won out. She nudged his leg. "Do you have plans today?"
"Not for the next few days. I’m all yours."
She pouted. "To play with or to sleep with?"
"Both." Mo Zhu grinned, utterly shameless. "Play with you by day, sleep with you by night."
Disgusting little snake.
Yu Zhiling pinched his cheeks, stretching them. "What about the surprise you promised me in the back mountain? What did you build?"
Mo Zhu’s eyes darkened. He caught her wrist, pressing a kiss to it. "A golden house."
Yu Zhiling shoved him. "Get lost!"
Unfazed, Mo Zhu chuckled, undeterred by her swatting. "You’ll love it, Master."
