Chapter 133: Gu Tingxiao’s Lack of Restraint
“My dowry is 666 yuan, plus the betrothal gift of 999, and the settlement fund my mother gave me is 1,160.”
“Then there’s the 600 you sent me over the last few months, plus this 480.”
“The total is 3,905 yuan.”
Gu Tingxiao was stunned. He hadn’t expected them to have such a massive sum; he’d assumed they had 2,000 at the very most.
Sheng Wanyan thought of something and started rummaging through her dowry box once more. “And this 60 yuan is what I managed to save from working this past year.”
In truth, that 60 yuan was a gift from Mother Sheng, but Wanyan wanted a plausible excuse to keep it in their working capital.
“So, our little family has a total of 3,965 yuan to start our lives.”
Wanyan was quite proud of herself. She was an expert at saving, having not spent a single penny of the monthly allowance Gu Tingxiao had sent her before the wedding.
Gu Tingxiao realized it the moment she spoke. His heart sank slightly. Had she kept every cent he sent just so she could return it? Was she trying to maintain a clear line between them—ready to cut ties completely if he ever did something wrong?
He had to admit, he found the thought a little chilling. She was a woman who didn’t like emotional messiness or uncertainty. He took a deep breath, realizing his little wife could be quite heartless when she wanted to be.
“Wife, keep your dowry money for yourself,” he said firmly. He had no intention of using her personal funds to support the household; it would make him feel incompetent. If he couldn’t support his own family on his salary, what kind of man was he?
Sheng Wanyan didn’t mention her translation royalties. She decided to wait until they left the Capital. Before they returned to the military base, Mother Gu would likely settle the family property division; if Wanyan brought up her private income now, it might cause a stir. She wanted the separation of assets to go smoothly so they could live a comfortable life.
She nodded and tucked the money and coupons back into her box. The moment she latched it, she felt Gu Tingxiao’s unmasked gaze on her.
“Wife… we should rest.”
His eyes never left her. He turned down the bed, lifted a corner of the quilt, and stood there waiting for her.
Wanyan felt a wave of resignation. Fine, then.
She climbed into bed and lay flat, hands folded over her stomach, staring at the ceiling. Gu Tingxiao blew out the oil lamp, plunging the room into darkness before sliding in beside her. The atmosphere turned thick and awkward. Wanyan waited for what felt like an eternity, her eyelids finally beginning to droop.
Just as she drifted off, Gu Tingxiao turned and pulled her into his arms. She jolted awake, frozen in his grip. When she didn’t push him away, he turned over and pressed himself over her.
“Wanyan…”
His voice was a low, hoarse rasp. His hand wrapped tightly around her waist, his fingertips trembling against her skin.
“I—mmm—”
Before she could get a word out, he captured her mouth in a deep kiss. His rough, calloused hands began to wander, and Wanyan felt a rush of goosebumps. They gripped each other’s hands tightly, their silhouettes overlapping against the window in the moonlight.
“Wanyan…”
She held onto his arm as if it were a lifeline. Gu Tingxiao was patient, moving with a surprising gentleness despite the sweat breaking out on his forehead. He kept his eyes fixed on her face, ready to stop the moment she showed even a hint of discomfort.
“It hurts…” she whispered, her eyes rimming with red. That flushed, vulnerable look was Gu Tingxiao’s total undoing.
“Wanyan, is it okay?”
He was at his limit, but he refused to cross the line until she gave him the sign. Wanyan’s face burned a deep crimson as she nodded, her grip on his arm tightening.
With her tacit consent, Gu Tingxiao finally let go of his restraint. He pressed into her, closing every gap between them.
“Mmh…” He let out a low, stifled groan, his pupils constricting as his hands shook. Wanyan bit his shoulder to keep from crying out, her strength fading as she was pinned beneath him.
It was a night of unbridled passion.
The next morning, Wanyan woke up to an empty space beside her. The quilt was still warm, so he couldn’t have been gone long. As she tried to sit up, every muscle in her body ached. Recalling Gu Tingxiao’s relentless lack of self-control, she briefly entertained the idea of requesting separate bedrooms.
“Hiss…”
Wanyan winced, clutching her waist. She pulled back the quilt and saw the dense map of red marks across her chest. She really wanted to slap him. The man was like a fighter jet—once he started, he had no concept of fatigue. He’d spent the entire night like a crazed bird, asking for more without stop.
Gu Tingxiao walked in carrying breakfast. Seeing her awake, he quickly retrieved the clothes she was to wear.
“Wife, let me help you get dressed.”
Wanyan was still fuming; she wasn’t about to let him touch her. What if he turned into a beast again? “Get out. I’ll do it myself.”
“You’re not feeling well, let me help,” he said, his voice dripping with a flattering, apologetic tone. Wanyan didn’t buy it and snatched the clothes from him.
“I said I’ll do it. Turn around.”
Seeing she wasn’t going to budge, Gu Tingxiao turned his back obediently, though his ears were perked, focused entirely on the rustle of fabric behind him. Wanyan moved slowly, every shift of her limbs bringing a fresh sting of soreness. She hadn’t been allowed to rest until nearly four in the morning.
Gu Tingxiao listened to the soft gasps of pain behind him. Ignoring the risk of another scolding, he turned around and reached for her shirt.
“You! Why did you turn around?”
“Let me help. You’re in pain.”
“I don’t need—”
“Be good. Just let me do it.”
He took the garment from her hands and began to dress her. Wanyan realized she couldn’t win this battle, so she closed her eyes and let him handle it, her face glowing with a mix of embarrassment and shyness.
As he worked, Gu Tingxiao’s gaze darkened when he saw the marks he had left. Her skin was so delicate that even the slightest pressure left a trace. I need to be gentler, he thought. She’s far too fragile; it would be a disaster if she actually got fed up with me.
He finished buttoning her up, completely unaware of the murderous look she was giving him.
“I cleaned you up and applied some ointment last night,” he said, his “straight-man” pragmatism overriding any tact. “It won’t hurt in a couple of days. It was my fault. I’ll be more careful next time.”
Wanyan’s face turned redder than a beet. She couldn’t believe he was actually standing there, reciting the details of her “medication” to her face.
