Chapter 85: The Dual Cultivation That Should Not Be Witnessed

“H-husband, this round, Qing’er didn’t lose.”
A woman’s voice sounded, soft and tender, tinged with both complaint and affection, as if she were playfully coaxing someone. Yet that word “husband” slipped from her lips with a hint of hesitation.
Standing beside Zilian, I listened, feeling something oddly familiar about her voice, as though I’d heard it somewhere before.
The sound of chess pieces dropping onto the board echoed again, the movements hesitant, betraying indecision.
Soon after, laughter rang out from the pear grove, deep and hearty, so pleasant to the ear that it instilled a sense of trust and stability.
“A loss is a loss. You promised me a hundred calls of ‘husband’—don’t go back on your word.”
The man’s voice followed, low and resonant. Compared to his laughter, his words were even deeper, like a jar of wine aged for a thousand years—rich, mellow, and full of character.
I thought to myself, this must be a mature man, surely older, for few men in their twenties or thirties possess such a magnetic voice.
“But Qing’er… Qing’er can’t bring herself to say it.”
The woman’s voice came again, sweet and coquettish, clearly unwilling to give in and call him “husband.”
He chuckled. “Do you remember, by the hot spring on the back side of Yao Mountain, you held me naked?”
“You—you are not allowed to tease me about that again!”
Her voice was low and melodious, thick with playful reproach.
“This isn’t teasing; it’s praise. I cherish those memories dearly. At least then, Qing’er wasn’t so shy around me. Now that we’re married, you still can’t bring yourself to call me ‘husband.’ It makes me wonder if everything by the hot spring was just a dream I had—a beautiful dream.”
“You, you, you—you're too much. I’ve told you countless times, the child is nearly two months old. Can’t you behave yourself for once? Stop saying such embarrassing things—it’s not good if the baby hears!”
She sounded annoyed, angry at her husband’s teasing.
“I must say them. All these words are what I owe you, and now I want to give them back, one by one.”
A startled cry came from the grove, followed by the clatter of chess pieces scattering onto the ground.
Soft gasps and lingering moans drifted out from among the pear trees.
Oh dear! One must not look at what is forbidden.
I raised my hand to shield my eyes, but couldn’t help peeking through my fingers. The stone chessboard was littered with black and white pieces, and the tabletop, once the site of their game, was now occupied by the two. The woman in azure robes, her long hair cascading over the table, looked vaguely familiar. She was pinned by a man in white; his lips traced her neck, one hand slipping inside her clothing, the other eagerly tugging at her sash.
This—this—I truly couldn’t bear to watch, yet I alternated between covering my eyes and sneaking glances. Glancing at Zilian, I saw him smiling, utterly unabashed, moving slowly toward them.
“Master.”
Unable to stand it any longer, I tugged at Zilian’s sleeve and called out.
At that moment, I felt a cold, piercing gaze directed our way. I looked up—the man in white was glaring at me, his eyes full of rage. His gaze was sharp as ice, like a sword; if looks could kill, I’d surely have collapsed on the spot.
We’re doomed. Master got caught spying on a couple in their intimate moment. We’ve been discovered. This time, we’re truly finished. There’s no way we’ll get the medicine now.