Hot flashes

Zhou Heng stayed in the study for a long time, feeling his muscles and bones were a bit stiff, so he strolled to the back garden to bask in the sun.

The old plum trees by the pond have passed their peak bloom, with a few scattered petals hanging on the branches, creating a unique and desolate beauty.

He was staring blankly at the pond, thinking that if he could draw in fresh water to create a circulation system, it might be nice to grow some lotus flowers, when he heard a series of light footsteps and a woman's whisper.

Looking up, I saw two young girls dressed as second-class maids in the Marquis's mansion hurrying along the corridor, carrying some fabric and a sewing basket, seemingly busy with some work.

The two spoke in hushed tones, and words such as "Lord Marquis," "new clothes," and "rushing to finish" could be faintly heard.

Zhou Heng hadn't paid any attention and was about to look away when he saw one of the round-faced maids pull out a half-finished, dark-colored nightgown fabric with embroidered cloud patterns from the sewing basket. She said to another, "Granny Li said the cloud pattern needs to be moved half an inch to the left to fit the Marquis's size..."

Zhou Heng was very familiar with the style and color of those nightgowns—Xiao Jue often wore this kind of garment.

His gaze unconsciously fell on the delicate stitches and the understated yet luxurious dark patterns.

Just then, the round-faced maid somehow slipped, and the nightgown fabric and several small items in the sewing basket scattered to the ground with a "clatter," among which was a palm-sized, brightly colored booklet with slightly curled edges.

The booklet cover had no words, only a drawing of a pair of mandarin ducks cuddling together. The lines were simple, yet they conveyed a sense of ambiguity. Zhou Heng had seen this style of art many times in modern times, and he immediately guessed what it was.

The two maids panicked immediately, and the round-faced maid blushed bright red as she frantically tried to pick it up.

Zhou Heng wasn't far away, and the booklet happened to fall at his feet. As if possessed, he bent down and picked it up.

It felt slightly heavy in his hand, the paper quality was so-so, but the printing was clear. He subconsciously turned to a page—and sure enough!

Inside are painted erotic pictures. The style is not particularly refined, but the poses are bold and explicit, and there are accompanying explanatory texts.

Zhou Heng: "..."

The two maids were so frightened that they knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly: "Mr. Zhou, please forgive us! We didn't mean to! This, this is... it's a book we were reading in private, which offended your eyes. Please, sir, have mercy and don't tell the Marquis and Granny Li!"

Zhou Heng held the hot potato-like booklet in his hand, looking at the two trembling maids on the ground. They were only fifteen or sixteen years old, which would be considered middle school students in modern times.

His heart softened, and he was about to speak when a familiar voice, its tone unreadable, came from behind him:

"What are you doing?"

Zhou Heng froze, nearly dropping the booklet in his hand.

He turned around abruptly and saw that Xiao Jue was already standing a few steps behind him, dressed in black casual clothes, with a tall and straight posture. His gaze swept calmly over him, then fell on the brightly colored booklet in his hand, the contents of which were easy to read at a glance, and finally glanced at the trembling maid kneeling on the ground.

The two maids were so frightened that they couldn't even beg for mercy and could only keep kowtowing.

Xiao Jue values ​​rules above all else. If he knew that the maids were secretly spreading such obscene things in the mansion, the two young girls would probably be punished.

In a flash, Zhou Heng gritted his teeth, took half a step forward, stuffed the booklet into his arms, forced a stiff smile, and said to Xiao Jue, "N-nothing... I... I was sunbathing here, and this book... is mine. I accidentally dropped it on the ground, and they picked it up for me."

As soon as he said it, he realized it was full of holes—who reads this kind of book while sunbathing?

Xiao Jue's gaze lingered for a moment on his forced composure, then swept over his slightly bulging front of his shirt where the booklet was hidden. His eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, but he didn't expose him immediately.

Upon hearing this, the two maids on the ground looked up at Zhou Heng in astonishment. When they met his wink, they hurriedly lowered their heads and dared not utter a sound.

"Your book?" Xiao Jue asked slowly, his tone calm and even. "What book? Let me see."

Zhou Heng felt the booklet in his arms suddenly become incredibly hot. He steeled himself, reluctantly took the booklet out again, but held it tightly in his hand, not handing it over. His face flushed red, and his eyes darted around: "It's... just an ordinary... miscellaneous book... nothing interesting..."

Xiao Jue looked at his attempt to cover up his misunderstanding, a faint trace of tenderness flashed in the depths of his eyes, but his face remained expressionless.

He reached out, not to take the book, but to gently brush away a tiny flower petal that had somehow gotten stuck to Zhou Heng's shoulder.

"Since it's your book, keep it safe." Xiao Jue's voice was devoid of emotion. "In the future... do not read it in broad daylight."

Zhou Heng nodded vigorously: "Yes, yes, yes."

Xiao Jue grunted in acknowledgment, then turned to the two maids still kneeling on the ground, his tone regaining its usual sternness: "What are you all standing there for? Go do what you're supposed to be doing."

The two maids, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, glanced at Zhou Heng with a mixture of gratitude and fear, thanked him repeatedly, picked up the scattered fabric and needles, and hurriedly retreated.

Only Xiao Jue and Zhou Heng remained in the garden, along with the still-hot booklet in Zhou Heng's hand.

The atmosphere became somewhat tense for a moment. Zhou Heng lowered his head, staring at the tips of his shoes.

Xiao Jue walked up to him and took his free hand in his.

"What would you like for lunch?" Xiao Jue asked, as if the awkward moment from just now had never happened.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Heng instinctively replied, "...Anything is fine."

"Then let the kitchen make the stuffed tofu and steamed fish you said you wanted last time," Xiao Jue said, leading him back inside. "Let's go back inside, it's windy."

His hands were warm and dry, with thin calluses. Zhou Heng was being led by him, his other hand still clutching the book, his steps somewhat unsteady.

Even after returning to Dingbei Residence, Xiao Jue didn't mention the booklet again. At lunchtime, he even personally removed the fish bones from his fish and put the tender fish meat into his bowl.

Zhou Heng lost his appetite, sensing that something was brewing beneath Xiao Jue's calm exterior. Sure enough, after the evening rest, Xiao Jue, as usual, pulled him into his arms, but whispered in the darkness:

"What do you plan to do with that booklet?"

Zhou Heng stiffened and mumbled, "...Find a place to throw it away tomorrow, or burn it."

"It's a waste to burn it." Xiao Jue's voice was close to his ear, his warm breath brushing against him. "How about... we try it?"

Zhou Heng: "!!!"

He turned his head sharply, meeting Xiao Jue's deep eyes in the dim light. There, a familiar, heart-pounding flame flickered, along with a hint of mischievous laughter.

"You...you knew perfectly well that it wasn't mine!" Zhou Heng blurted out, both ashamed and anxious.

"I know," Xiao Jue admitted readily, tightening his arms around him and pulling him firmly into his embrace. He chuckled softly, "But didn't you say it was yours? Since it's yours, it wouldn't hurt for me to take a look... right?"

Zhou Heng then realized that they were waiting for him here!

He was both angry and annoyed, so he opened his mouth and bit Xiao Jue's shoulder.

Xiao Jue grunted, not annoyed at all, but with a deeper smile in his eyes. He rolled over and pinned him down, kissing his incessantly protesting lips, and mumbled, "Let me see... what my Ah Heng's private collection of 'miscellaneous books' teaches..."

That night, Zhou Heng was once again thoroughly "tortured".

Xiao Jue seemed to be deliberately trying to confirm something, sometimes pressing him with questions like "Is that how it is in the book?" and sometimes chuckling at him in a low voice for "secretly keeping good books to study alone." This made Zhou Heng both ashamed and angry, and in the end he could only cry and beg for mercy, promising that he would never dare to pick up things randomly or take the blame for others again before Xiao Jue would let it go.

Afterwards, Zhou Heng was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. As Xiao Jue cleaned him up and carried him back to bed, he vaguely heard Xiao Jue whisper in his ear, his voice hoarse with a hint of indulgence:

"It's good to be soft-hearted, but you don't have to take everything on yourself. There are rules in the manor."

Zhou Heng gave a muffled "hmm," snuggled closer to him, and fell into a deep sleep.