Zhuang blinked away the remnants of sleep as the sound of birds singing filled the air. A soft tingle ran across her stomach, and when she looked down, she saw Xiuying’s elegant finger tracing lazy circles on her skin.
“Good morning,” Xiuying greeted with a smile, her voice as smooth and warm as honey. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Zhuang’s lips. “How are you feeling today?”
Zhuang’s cheeks warmed at the tenderness in Xiuying’s tone. “Better,” she replied softly. “Thanks to Mei Lin and Nianhua’s help. They’ve been… kinder than I expected.”
Xiuying’s expression brightened, her lips curving into a fond smile as her thoughts drifted briefly to her other wives. “They’re good women,” she said, her gaze softening with affection. “I’m glad they’ve made you feel welcome.”
Zhuang nodded, though there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Xiuying noticed it but chose not to press. Instead, she brushed a strand of hair from Zhuang’s face, tucking it gently behind her ear.
“I’ll be leaving for a few weeks,” she said, her tone becoming more serious. Zhuang’s eyes widened slightly at the announcement, but she stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. “The other wives will be here if you need anything. Remember, they’re your sisters now, so no fighting.”
Zhuang let out a soft huff, her lips quirking in amusement. “I’ll try,” she murmured, though the hint of playfulness in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Xiuying.
Xiuying chuckled, brushing her thumb across Zhuang’s cheek. “You can leave the domain whenever you like, but this is your home too,” she said firmly, her gaze locking with Zhuang’s. “And please—no more suicide missions. Get yourself new friends, ones who don’t drag you into trouble.”
Zhuang bit her lip, guilt flickering across her face as she remembered the events that had nearly cost her life. “I’ll try,” she repeated, this time more earnestly.
Xiuying nodded, satisfied with her response for now. She leaned in again, pressing her forehead gently against Zhuang’s. “I mean it, Zhuang. I don’t want to lose you.”
Zhuang’s heart clenched at the raw emotion in Xiuying’s voice. She reached up, resting her hand over Xiuying’s. “You won’t,” she promised softly. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Xiuying smiled, relief and hope dancing in her eyes. She kissed Zhuang again, deeper this time, as if sealing the promise between them. When she pulled back, she lingered for a moment, her hand tracing the curve of Zhuang’s jaw.
“Good,” she said simply.
Zhuang frowned slightly, biting her lip as she leaned back against the pillows. “I thought... maybe we’d have more time together.”
Xiuying’s expression softened, her fingers still tracing lazy circles on her skin. “Duty calls, my love. There are things I must handle, but I’ll return as quickly as I can.” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Zhuang’s ear as she whispered, “And when I do, I want to see you thriving here. No more sadness, no more reckless ventures.”
Zhuang tilted her head to look at Xiuying, her eyes glistening with emotion. “I’ll try... for you.”
Xiuying chuckled, low and warm, her gaze filled with affection. “Good girl.” She pressed a lingering kiss on Zhuang’s forehead, then her lips. The kiss deepened, filled with longing, as if Xiuying were memorising the taste of her before their time apart.
When they parted, Zhuang’s cheeks were flushed. She grabbed Xiuying’s wrist, her voice trembling. “Just... don’t take too long, okay? I don’t know if I can handle missing you again.”
Xiuying’s gaze darkened, and she placed her hand over Zhuang’s. “You’re stronger than you think, Zhuang. And I’ll always come back to you.” She stood from the bed, adjusting her robes with a graceful sweep. “But I mean what I said—listen to Mei Lin and Nianhua, and give yourself time to heal and settle.”
Zhuang nodded reluctantly, her hands gripping the sheets as she watched Xiuying prepare to leave. She hesitated, then said, “I’ll miss you.”
Xiuying turned back, her smile tinged with mischief. “Good. Missing me will make our reunion all the sweeter.” With a final, lingering glance, she left the room, leaving Zhuang alone with her thoughts.
As the door closed behind her, Zhuang lay back, her fingers tracing the spot where Xiuying’s hand had rested. Her heart was heavy, but there was a flicker of determination in her chest. She will make Xiuying proud, no matter how hard it felt.
The sound of footsteps brought Zhuang out of her thoughts, and moments later, Mei Lin poked her head into the room, carrying a tray with breakfast. “Good morning! Hungry?”
Zhuang smiled faintly, sitting up and gesturing for Mei Lin to come in. “Famished. Let’s see if your cooking lives up to Xiuying’s praise.”
Mei Lin grinned, setting the tray down. “Oh, you’ll be begging for seconds.”
As the morning sunlight streamed through the windows, Zhuang felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something beautiful.
*
Zhuang’s stroll through the domain had been peaceful until the ground beneath her feet trembled with rhythmic thuds. Her heart leaped into her throat as panic surged through her. Her first thought was an invasion—a threat to the sanctuary she was slowly beginning to accept as home. She instinctively turned toward Mei Lin, who was walking beside her, but to her shock, the mischievous woman simply grabbed her hand and laughed, pulling her toward the source of the noise.
“Mei Lin, what’s going on? Shouldn’t we—” Zhuang started, her voice tinged with alarm.
“Relax, Zhuang!” She interrupted, her grin widening as she quickened their pace. “You’re going to love this.”
The closer they got to the noise, the more the scene unfolded before them. In the distance, the towering figure of the giantess moved with surprising grace and power. She was locked in an elegant sparring match with Yexiao, whose movements were just as fluid and calculated. The clash of their weapons reverberated through the air, accompanied by the thundering of Yulan’s heavy strides.
Zhuang froze in awe and disbelief as she watched the two women. It was a mesmerizing dance of skill and strength. Their attacks and defences were magnificent.
Mei Lin leaned closer to Zhuang, her voice playful. “Who do you think will win? My money’s on Yexiao. She usually does.”
Before Zhuang could reply, Yulan abruptly halted her attack, her massive frame ready for war as she turned to glare at Mei Lin. Her piercing eyes narrowed, and with a dramatic swing, she pointed her sword directly at the second wife.
“How about you spar with me, Doctor?” Yulan’s deep voice was tinged with mock seriousness.
Mei Lin immediately shook her head, a playful smirk spreading across her face. “Oh, no, no. I value my life far too much to step into the ring with you,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender.
Yulan let out a hearty laugh, lowering her sword. “Coward,” she teased, before turning her attention back to Yexiao.
Zhuang couldn’t help but smile at their banter, her earlier fear melting away into an unexpected sense of belonging. These women—so fierce and full of life—were unlike anyone she had ever known. It was chaotic, unpredictable, but strangely comforting. She glanced at Mei Lin, who was still grinning cheekily, and couldn’t help but ask, “Do things like this happen often around here?”
Mei Lin shot her a wink. “You have no idea.”
*
The wives were gathered around the pavilion table, the soft hum of birds singing blended with the gentle rustle of the breeze. Plates of steaming dishes, fresh fruits, and fragrant teas adorned the table, filling the air with delicious aromas. Laughter and chatter flowed easily among them, but Nianhua’s sharp voice cut through as her gaze settled on Yulan, who was casually sipping wine from a large goblet.
“Wine is bad for you,” she remarked, her tone laced with disapproval. She shook her head, clearly exasperated.
Yulan paused, raising a brow at Nianhua with a teasing smirk. “Yes, it’s bad for the one who is pregnant,” she quipped, her voice filled with dry humor.
Nianhua huffed, her cheeks puffing slightly as she crossed her arms in a mock pout. “Always with the jokes,” she muttered, but her scolding tone lacked bite. Instead, she turned her attention to her daughter, who was happily perched on Mei Lin’s lap. The little girl giggled as Mei Lin deftly fed her bites from her plate.
Mei Lin, as always, had a cup of her signature herbal tea in hand. The bitter aroma wafted toward Nianhua, who wrinkled her nose in mild irritation. “I don’t know how you drink that,” Xiuying always complained about it too, shooting Mei Lin a look of playful disgust.
Mei Lin chuckled softly, the edge of her cup brushing her lips. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Zhuang, who had been quietly observing the lively group with a faint smile. Setting her cup down, Mei Lin tilted her head slightly and asked, “What do you like to drink, Miss Ye?”
Zhuang blinked at the sudden attention but quickly recovered. She leaned back with a smirk tugging at her lips and replied, “Morning dew.”
Nianhua gasped audibly, her eyes widening in shock. “Stay out of my garden!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of genuine indignation and mock outrage.
The table erupted into laughter, even Yulan letting out a hearty chuckle as she drained the rest of her wine. Zhuang couldn’t help but grin as she watched Nianhua fume, though there was no real anger behind it.
Mei Lin gave Zhuang an approving look. “I like her sense of humour,” she said, taking another sip of her tea.
“Be careful,” Lihua interjected, smirking as she flew across the table, landing on Zhuang’s head. “My mommies women may look like angels, but they’re all a bit territorial.”
“Territorial?” Nianhua shot back, her pout returning. “Says the one who can’t share her mango juice with anyone.”
“Not fair, mommy,” the little pixie pouted, making the wives chuckle.
As the teasing and laughter continued, Zhuang felt warmth settle in her chest. It was a strange yet comforting realisation—these women, with their quirks and banter, were becoming something akin to family. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she belonged.
