chsdbacks Chapter 409 I can't wait any longer, this young master wants to consummate the marriage right n
Chapter 409 I can't wait any longer, this young master wants to consummate the marriage right n
Meanwhile, at the foot of the neighboring mountain, in a peaceful little village.
As dusk settled, wisps of smoke rose from the low eaves, carried away by the evening breeze, and blended into the orange-red glow of the sunset on the horizon.
The village is small, with only a dozen or so households, scattered in a charmingly haphazard way in the mountain valley.
The bluestone path meanders and twists, with several old locust trees planted on both sides, their branches and leaves rustling in the evening breeze.
In a very ordinary farmhouse, a young girl dressed in coarse cloth is busy in the yard.
She rolled up her sleeves, revealing a section of her fair and slender forearm, and carried water back from the well with both hands on a carrying pole.
The wooden bucket was full of water, and it swayed gently on her shoulder without spilling a single drop.
She put down the carrying pole, picked up the wood-chopping knife, and squatted down next to the woodpile in the corner of the yard to chop wood.
The axe fell, and the firewood split open with a crisp sound; the movement was swift and clean, without a single wasted effort.
After chopping firewood, she walked to the wooden basin by the well, squatted down, and began to wash clothes.
The soap froth bubbled between her fingers, shimmering with tiny lights in the twilight.
Her appearance was delicate and pretty, not the kind of stunning beauty, but a kind of clean and pleasing beauty, like a clear mountain spring.
Her eyebrows were curved, her nose was small, and her lips were slightly pursed, carrying a hint of stubbornness.
The elderly father sat on a wooden bench in the yard, holding a hunting knife, processing the game he had just brought back from the mountain.
The pheasant's feathers had already been plucked clean. He skillfully gutted it, removing its internal organs with steady and efficient movements.
The mother was watering and weeding in the small vegetable garden next to the yard.
She bent over, scooped up water with a gourd ladle in her hand, and poured it onto the vegetable roots spoonful by spoonful.
The lush green vegetables gleamed with a fresh, tender sheen in the twilight.
The family of three, each busy with their own things, occasionally look up to exchange a few words, enjoying each other's company.
The father picked up the cleaned pheasant, held it up to the sunlight, and nodded in satisfaction.
He looked up and called out to the girl.
"Ah Yao! Father has prepared this pheasant. Go to the kitchen and stew it."
The girl stopped washing the clothes and turned her head.
She looked at the plump pheasant in her father's hand, smiled sweetly, and revealed a row of pearly teeth.
"it is good."
She stood up, wiped her hands on her apron, walked over to her father, and took the pheasant.
The pheasant was still very fresh, with firm skin and meat, and a faint sheen of oil.
She carried the pheasant and walked towards the kitchen.
The kitchen was small; the stove was made of earth, and the pots were cast iron, blackened by smoke.
She skillfully placed the pheasant on the cutting board, picked up the machete, and with swift strokes, chopped the pheasant into evenly sized pieces.
The knife skills were fast and precise, and the sound of bones breaking was crisp and clear.
She put the chicken pieces into the pot, added water and salt, covered the pot with the lid, squatted down, and added firewood to the stove.
The firelight shone on her face, making her delicate features appear flushed, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.
My mother came out of the vegetable garden, holding a bunch of bright green vegetables in her hands, with wet mud still clinging to the roots.
She went to the well, washed the vegetables clean, shook off the water, went into the kitchen, and placed them on the stove.
Watching Ayao's busy figure, she smiled and said, "Ayao, you've worked hard. Eat more meat later to nourish your body."
Ayao raised her head, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and smiled.
"It's not hard work."
As dusk deepened, the fire in the stove burned brighter and brighter, and the soup in the pot bubbled and boiled, its aroma wafting out from the gaps in the lid and filling the entire courtyard.
A voice suddenly came from outside the door, very soft, with a hint of lazy laughter.
Is anyone there?
The family of three were stunned for a moment.
The father put down his hunting knife, the mother stopped what she was doing, and Ayao stood up from the stove and looked towards the courtyard gate.
Outside the courtyard gate stood one man and three women, four people in total.
The man stood at the front, wearing a moon-white robe with a jade belt around his waist, and holding a folding fan with a plum blossom painted on its surface.
His face was handsome, with a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and a lazy, nonchalant air of nobility between his brows.
Three women stood behind him. One was dressed in a moon-white close-fitting outfit, with a long sword hanging at her waist. The scabbard was snow-white and inlaid with pale blue gemstones.
Her face was stunningly beautiful, her temperament was aloof and cold, and her gaze was calm and still, revealing no emotion whatsoever.
She was dressed in a plain white dress with a matching cloak, her features gentle and kind, with a faint smile on her lips.
The last one was dressed in a dark blue outfit, his hand on the hilt of his sword, his face cold and his eyes sharp as knives.
The old man and his mother exchanged a glance, a hint of tension and unease flashing in their eyes.
They had lived their whole lives in the mountains and had never seen such a person before.
The demeanor of that man and three women clearly indicated they were not ordinary people.
The old man steeled himself and stepped forward, bending over with a humble smile plastered on his face.
"Young master, may I ask who you are looking for?"
The young master snapped his folding fan shut with a sharp "snap".
He smiled, his voice gentle, like a spring breeze.
"I'm not looking for anyone; I was just passing by and smelled the aroma of meat, so I thought I'd stop here for a bite to eat. Is that alright?"
The aloof woman behind him spoke softly, her voice low but each word clear.
"Our young master won't eat your food for free; he'll pay you."
The old man and his mother exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with hesitation and tension.
They could tell at a glance that this young master came from a wealthy family and was not someone to be trifled with; for a moment, they didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse.
Refusing would surely bring disaster. They couldn't afford to offend someone like that.
The old man nodded shakily, his voice hoarse.
"Of course. Please come inside, young master..."
The young master's smile grew even brighter. He opened his folding fan again, waved it gently twice, and swaggered into the courtyard.
He walked around, looking around casually, as if he were at home.
"Thank you very much."
He strode into the house, his pace neither hurried nor slow.
Three women followed behind him, their steps light and silent.
Ayao stood at the kitchen doorway, looking at the man and three women, her brows furrowing slightly.
Her gaze lingered on the young man's face for a moment, then shifted to the long sword at the cold and beautiful woman's waist, before quickly looking away again.
The old man turned around and called out to Ayao.
"Ayao, bring out the wine from home again later and treat the guests well."
Ayao nodded, her voice calm.
"Okay, I understand, Father."
She turned and went into the kitchen, lifted the pot lid, stirred the soup in the pot with a spoon, and then put the lid back on.
Then she went to the corner of the kitchen, lifted a wooden plank on the floor, revealing the dark cellar below.
She climbed down the wooden ladder and took out a wine jar from inside.
The wine jar was made of coarse pottery, sealed with a red cloth, and covered with mud, indicating that it had been buried for many years.
The food was served.
A pot of stewed pheasant, a plate of stir-fried greens, a dish of pickled vegetables, and a bowl of steamed egg custard—simple and unpretentious, yet steaming hot and fragrant.
The old man and his mother carried the food to the table, their hands trembling, the bowls and chopsticks clattering.
The young master sat swaggeringly at the head of the dining table, leaning back in his chair with a languid air, as if he were at home.
The stunningly beautiful woman stood behind him, her slender hands resting on his shoulders, gently kneading them.
The gentle woman squatted down at his feet, gently massaging his calves with her hands.
The aloof and beautiful woman stood to the side, her hand on the hilt of her sword, expressionless and silent, like a sword stuck in the ground.
The old man didn't dare to lift his head; his back was soaked with sweat, and cold sweat streamed down his spine.
He carried the food to the young master with trembling hands, his voice barely audible.
"Young master, the meal is ready. Please enjoy your meal."
The young master glanced down at the food on the table, nodded, and a smile appeared on his lips.
"It smells wonderful. Excellent craftsmanship! Who made it?"
The old man lowered his head, and his voice became even softer.
"It was...it was made by my youngest daughter."
The young master nodded, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes.
"Excellent, excellent. Your daughter's cooking is even better than my chef's."
The old man waved his hands repeatedly, his voice trembling with tension.
"You flatter me, sir, you flatter me..."
The young master glanced at the wine jar on the table and raised an eyebrow.
Do you have any alcohol?
The old man nodded hurriedly, his voice urgent.
"Yes, yes! I've already sent my daughter to pick it up!"
He turned his head and called out towards the kitchen.
"Ah Yao! Has the wine been brought?"
Ayao walked in carrying a wine jar.
The wine jar wasn't large; she held it in both hands and placed it steadily on the table.
Her voice was very soft, and you couldn't tell what emotion she was saying.
"Father, I've brought it."
The old man finally breathed a sigh of relief, turned around, and introduced the young master.
"Young master, this is wine I brewed myself. Please try it and see if you like it."
The young master lowered his head, looked at the rough earthenware wine jar, and patted the jar, making a dull "thump-thump" sound. He smiled casually.
"What's the name of this wine? What's it made of?"
The old man answered truthfully.
"Young master, this wine is called Mountain Red. It's brewed with glutinous rice grown on our own and wild fruits from the mountains. It's not worth much, so please don't be offended."
The young master nodded, his gaze falling on the wine jar, and the smile on his lips deepened.
"This wine... isn't poisoned, is it?"
The old man was startled, his whole body trembled, and he waved his hands repeatedly, his voice changing into a different tone.
"No, no! How could it possibly be poisonous? Young master, your words have truly frightened this old man!"
The young master sighed, his tone helpless, as if he were complaining.
"You know, someone of my high status is always targeted by people who want to frame me, like those who might poison my drinks from time to time. I can't do anything about it."
The old man nodded hurriedly, his voice urgent.
"Yes, yes, I understand, I understand..."
The young master leaned back in his chair and tapped his finger lightly on the table.
"Then you drink first. I'll drink after you're done."
Without hesitation, the old man quickly grabbed a bowl, poured in some wine, and drank it all in one gulp.
He choked on the wine, coughed twice, and said with a flushed face, "Young master, you see, it's not poisoned, is it?"
The young master smiled and nodded, then gently patted his folding fan in his palm.
"It really wasn't poisonous."
He picked up his chopsticks, about to take some food, when his gaze suddenly fell on A-Yao.
Ayao stood by the table, hands at her sides, head bowed, like a quiet flower blooming in the dust.
The young master's eyes suddenly lit up, his chopsticks stopped in mid-air, and a meaningful smile slowly appeared on his lips.
"Your daughter is not only so skilled, but also very beautiful."
The old man was stunned for a moment, and the smile on his face froze.
His lips trembled twice, and he quickly waved his hand.
"My daughter is of coarse appearance; how could she possibly catch your eye, young master..."
The young master smiled, a faint smile carrying an undeniable certainty.
"Not at all, your daughter is indeed beautiful, and I quite like her. How about this—I've decided to take her as my concubine, what do you think?"
The old man's eyes widened suddenly, his pupils filled with extreme shock and fear!
He opened his mouth, making a "hoarse" sound in his throat, but couldn't squeeze out a single word!
The mother stood to one side, her face ashen, her body trembling violently, her lips quivering, unable to speak, her eyes filled with despair!
Ayao's expression suddenly changed!
She looked up at the young master, a flash of anger in her eyes.
She bit her lip, her voice trembling slightly with barely suppressed anger.
"Young master, please don't joke! I'm just an ordinary peasant girl, unworthy of you!"
The young master's face suddenly darkened, like the sky before a storm.
"What? Are you looking down on me?"
No sooner had he finished speaking than the aloof woman behind him suddenly drew her long sword from her waist!
"Zheng—!!!"
The sword gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the twilight, its blade pointing directly at the old man!
The old man trembled with fright, and knelt on the ground with a thud, his forehead touching the ground, his voice hoarse and broken!
"Young master, please don't be angry! We...we truly are not worthy of your presence!"
The mother's eyes rolled back, and she fainted, her body collapsing limply to the ground.
The young master's face was cold, his voice as icy as a knife, each word as if carved from beneath a layer of ice.
"You have no choice but to agree to this marriage today, whether you like it or not! Otherwise, I'll slaughter your entire village!"
The old man's vision went black, his body swayed, and he almost fainted.
His heart was ice-cold.
He knew that he could not escape this misfortune after all.
He's really messed with the King of Hell!
Ayao glared angrily, her eyes burning with fury, her voice rising eight octaves with rage!
"You're shameless! I'll take you to the authorities and bring you to justice!"
The young master laughed, a soft laugh that carried an arrogant, condescending air.
"Excuse me, but in this place, I am the law!"
He suddenly threw the chopsticks in his hand to the ground, making a crisp "smack" sound!
"I can't wait any longer! This young master wants to consummate our marriage right now!"
He suddenly stood up and lunged at A Yao!
His movements were as fast as lightning, and he reached out with both hands to grab A Yao's shoulders!
next moment--
A tremendous, vast aura erupted from A Yao's body!
The aura was like a mountain collapsing, a tsunami, or a raging wind surging from a bottomless abyss, instantly engulfing the entire hut!
The candle flame flickered violently, almost going out!
The bowls and chopsticks on the table were blown away by the blast and crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces!
The old man was thrown to the ground by the blast wave, and scrambled to the corner of the wall, staring wide-eyed at his daughter with disbelief and shock in his eyes!
Ayao raised her head, and her once clear and gentle eyes were now burning with a cold, silvery light, as sharp as two swords!
Her hair danced without wind, and her coarse cloth dress fluttered in the air currents!
A cold smile slowly curved her lips.
There was no smile in that curve, only a chilling killing intent.
And an aura of superiority and arrogance that emanates from the very core of them!
"A mere spoiled brat dares to set his sights on me?"
Her voice was no longer the gentle and weak tone it had been before, but rather ethereal and cold, like a wind drifting in from beyond the heavens!
The young master suddenly stopped, suspended in mid-air, as if someone had struck his pressure points.
His eyes widened in disbelief, his pupils filled with utter shock and disbelief!
He opened his mouth, making a "hoarse" sound from his throat!
"You—you—!!!"
Ayao raised her right hand, fingers together, palm down, aiming at the young master.
"die."