The bathtub behind the folding screen was steaming pleasantly.
A Mei walked over and dipped her hand into the water to test the temperature. It was just right.
The faint rustle of fabric could be heard from behind the screen.
An Sheng had barely taken a few sips of tea when, from where he sat, he saw several articles of clothing draped over the screen one after another.
Then a soft, delicate voice drifted into his ears.
“Husband, what’s taking you so long? Come over here.”
An Sheng’s hand paused mid-motion. He set down his teacup, rose, and walked toward the screen.
As soon as he stepped behind it, A Mei turned at the sound and smiled sweetly at him. “Husband, hurry up and take off your clothes. I’m not waiting for you—I’ve already gotten in.”
As she spoke, A Mei removed the last of her undergarments without the slightest hesitation, displaying without reserve the soft, graceful curves unique to a woman before her husband. Ignoring An Sheng’s fevered gaze, she stepped into the bathtub.
An Sheng’s expression changed at once. His eyes flickered as he wantonly surveyed A Mei’s body.
But A Mei had her head lowered and did not notice. After going several days without a bath, she sighed in bliss as the hot water soothed every inch of her body.
The gaze was simply too intense to ignore. When A Mei finally sensed it and looked up, she met those deep, roiling black eyes.
That fiercely possessive stare seemed almost ready to devour her whole…
How could she not understand what her husband was thinking? Ever since they had begun traveling by night as well, the two of them had been eating and sleeping in the carriage. An Sheng was busy enough as it was, and there was even less privacy in the carriage, so they had not been intimate for several days.
Now, faced with her husband’s naked, undisguised gaze, brimming with desire, even A Mei—whose shyness and embarrassment had long since faded after so much time as his wife—could not help blushing and feeling her heart race.
She pursed her lips and cast him a coy, bashful glance. “Oh, husband, don’t look at me like that. Let’s take a bath first.”
An Sheng seemed to murmur a faint assent.
Then he reached out, removed his clothes, and stepped into the tub.
The next moment, a soft little hand brushed against him.
A Mei placed her hand on An Sheng’s chest, her slender neck lowered shyly as she spoke in a quiet voice. “Let A Mei attend to you while you bathe.”
An Sheng curved his lips as he looked at her. Suddenly, he let out a soft chuckle. He first gently brushed his warm palm across her brows and eyes, then spread his arms and reclined lazily against the tub, his gaze flickering.
“How could I let you do that? I should be the one attending to my wife.”
A Mei blinked. “But I want to attend to you, husband.”
An Sheng felt his breathing falter for an instant. He drew a deep breath. “Very well, then. I’ll trouble you, my wife.”
And so A Mei began conscientiously washing him.
But before long, her hands grew sore. Ever since they had married—especially after moving into their new residence—An Sheng had spoiled her thoroughly. Servants surrounded her, and there were always maids or An Sheng himself to wait on her. When had she ever done any work? Her body had grown so pampered and delicate that even the slightest chore left her tired.
In the end, A Mei simply tossed aside the cloth in her hand and leaned limply against An Sheng’s chest.
“I’m not scrubbing anymore. My hands are sore. Husband, you wash A Mei instead.”
An Sheng suddenly laughed, his brows and eyes softening with tenderness. He made no attempt to conceal the gentlest, most moving affection in his heart, and the viciousness, brutality, and bloodlust buried within him vanished beneath his outward appearance without a trace.
The sudden change left A Mei staring at him in a daze.
After a long moment, she could not help murmuring, “You look so handsome when you’re happy, husband, and so gentle. You don’t seem like the Commissioner of the Inner Factory everyone fears, not even a little.”
An Sheng pulled A Mei’s wet, slippery body into his arms. Their skin pressed together, and he let out a satisfied sigh. He had always been enamored with that soft, warm sensation. Then his large hands began slowly caressing and kneading her body.
He sighed wistfully. “You’re the only one in the world who could say something like that to me, my wife.”
A Mei blinked and was about to say more, but his aimless yet suggestive caresses made her laugh and squirm. She could only change the subject.
“Haha, husband, that tickles. Just use the cloth to wash me.”
How could An Sheng possibly agree? He smiled with such sincerity that he seemed utterly harmless—almost sanctimonious.
“Using the cloth makes it difficult for me to control my strength. I’d better use my hands. Be good, my wife. Don’t move around. Let me wash you properly.”
