Chapter 24

The gazes, whether respectful or frivolous, had long ceased to surprise her; she remained calm and composed. In the end, when it came to her beauty, Huang Rong carried a quiet pride tinged with arrogance.

She gazed intently at her husband Guo Jing, surrounded by the gathered heroes not far away. After more than thirty years of marriage, the endearingly honest and straightforward image of Guo Jing in his youth had been blurred beyond recognition by the trials of the martial world. Now, he was increasingly decisive, steady, and commanding, revered by all as a “Great Hero.”

“But, Brother Jing, when you’re by Rong’er’s side, are you the Great Hero Guo admired by thousands, or are you Rong’er’s lover and husband? Being a great hero means belonging to many, but Brother Jing can only belong to Rong’er alone…” Huang Rong suddenly thought of Guo’er and Xiao Longnü. That pair of star-crossed lovers had endured countless hardships and defied worldly prejudices to finally be together. Their deep affection and perfect harmony made them the envy of many. Now living in seclusion, detached from worldly affairs, enjoying marital bliss and growing old together in happiness—wasn’t that also one of life’s great joys?

“Brother Jing would never think like Guo’er. Worrying about the nation and its people—that’s what makes a Great Hero!”

Huang Rong was filled with resentment and melancholy, with no outlet for her feelings. She picked up the wine cup on the table, tilted her head back, and downed three bowls in quick succession. Those seated nearby, seeing her boldness, cheered loudly and hurriedly poured more wine to toast her. Even though Huang Rong had a considerable capacity for alcohol, she couldn’t withstand the relentless urging. After several rounds, her pretty face flushed red, enhancing her radiant beauty. Her starry eyes grew hazy and unfocused, as if about to brim with tears. A few soft moans stirred her ample bosom, and her entire being exuded a captivating allure.

Among them, some who couldn’t restrain themselves dropped their wine cups with a clatter, their hearts scratched and clawed by temptation, wishing they could immediately pounce and embrace this seductive beauty for a passionate tryst.

Guo Jing, seeing his beloved wife drunk from afar, grew worried. He bowed and apologized to everyone, squeezing through the crowd to Huang Rong’s side. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around her slender waist and leaned close to her ear, whispering softly, “Rong’er, you’re drunk. Let me help you inside to rest.”

Huang Rong murmured softly, burying her head in her husband’s chest. Guo Jing supported his wife and smiled at the crowd, saying, “My wife cannot hold her liquor. Please allow me to help her rest.”

The heroes all responded, “Madam Guo has been weary for days; she should rest early. Please go ahead, Great Hero Guo.” “I possess a secret hangover remedy and wish to offer it to Madam Guo.” “Madam Guo is a heroine who rivals any man. We must all take her as an example and drink until we’re drunk tonight…”

Amid the clamor and endless chatter, they automatically cleared a path for them. Huang Rong leaned sideways against her husband’s broad shoulder, exuding the delicate languor of intoxication. Her slender waist swayed gently, her full hips rocking slightly, as she moved away with endless allure. Behind her, countless eyes fixated on her plump, round buttocks, and many secretly swallowed their saliva.

Guo Jing passed through halls and chambers, taking a while before finally helping Huang Rong into the inner room to lie down. He let down the beaded curtain and was about to cover her with a quilt when he suddenly heard Huang Rong murmuring in her sleep: “Father, don’t go, don’t leave Rong’er behind.”

“Brother Zhou, are you leaving too? What about Yinggu…”

“Guo’er, Miss Long…”

Her rambling words likely came from dreams where she saw these closest kin, dear friends, and beloved juniors leaving her one by one. During the day, she could force herself to endure, but in dreams, her true feelings emerged. Hearing this, Guo Jing’s heart filled with tenderness. He thought to himself that Rong’er had been working too hard these days, and he had been so busy with military preparations that he rarely offered her gentle words of concern. He, Guo Jing, truly… owed her so much.

Guo Jing gazed lovingly at his wife, who lay sleeping like a begonia in spring. His thick, solid hand stroked her dark hair, his eyes wandering from her flushed cheeks and slightly trembling red lips to her high, full chest. A surge of heat rose uncontrollably from his lower abdomen. Remembering that they hadn’t shared marital intimacy for months, he was suddenly overcome with desire, and his breathing grew noticeably heavier.

His hands began to move, gently caressing his beloved wife’s delicate face and her fair, swan-like neck. He paused briefly, as if handling the world’s most exquisite artwork, before carefully climbing to her towering peaks. He began kneading them with moderate pressure. As his grip tightened, Huang Rong’s ripe, voluptuous body responded. She stirred restlessly, her cherry lips murmuring something, her fragrant tongue occasionally darting out as if licking. Guo Jing chuckled softly, thinking to himself that Rong’er must have been enduring for a long time too.

Without hesitation, he somewhat roughly tore open Huang Rong’s bodice. His large hand reached in, stripping her upper body down to just a bright yellow undergarment. The thin, gauze-like inner garment could hardly conceal her flesh tones. Her body, as fair and smooth as condensed milk, was laid bare, creating a scene of boundless spring allure. So stimulated, Guo Jing could no longer restrain himself. He mounted her, pressing Huang Rong beneath him. With both hands, he tore aside the undergarment and unhesitatingly grasped the twin peaks that haunted the dreams of countless men. Their smoothness, fullness, and astonishing elasticity made even Guo Jing, a veteran of many bedroom battles with his wife, marvel: Rong’er’s breasts were truly the finest in the world.

Guo Jing’s large hands kneaded his wife’s beautiful breasts. Even his iron palms, unmatched by any, could barely encompass their fullness. Much of the smooth, glistening flesh overflowed from his grasp, and the red cherries at the tips occasionally peeked out from between his fingers. By now, Huang Rong’s low murmurs had gradually turned into moaning gasps, and her body’s responsive writhing became more pronounced. When Guo Jing lowered his head and took one of the pink, alluring, bright red nipples into his mouth, she let out a low cry. Her arms involuntarily wrapped around Guo Jing’s neck, her chin tilted back, her head shaking slightly, her dark hair gradually falling into disarray.

Guo Jing knew his beloved wife was aroused. Encouraged, he redoubled his efforts, sucking and licking both nipples with great relish, alternating between sucking, nibbling, and teasing. This caused Huang Rong beneath him to writhe like a water snake, her moaning breaths growing louder. Guo Jing’s large hands were not idle either; they snaked downward, stroking over her fair, flat stomach, moving bit by bit lower, approaching the enticing triangular region, the fragrant grassy paradise. A damp heat emanated from between his fingers—Huang Rong’s lower flower cave was already flooded.

Seeing the moment was ripe, Guo Jing was about to probe with his fingers when a faint sound of footsteps reached his ears. His martial arts had reached the pinnacle of mastery, and even though he was consumed by lust, his senses remained sharp. He heard the footsteps approach from afar and stop outside the courtyard door. The person seemed hesitant, pacing back and forth a few times before finally calling out: “Great Hero Guo! Great Hero Guo!”

The voice was familiar—it was Military Envoy Liu, who served as a military advisor under Lü Wende. Guo Jing felt annoyed, thinking to himself that tonight would likely end here. He looked apologetically at Huang Rong, only to see his wife had turned her head aside and fallen asleep. Guo Jing sighed, covered his wife’s clothes, pulled the quilt over her, and said gently, “Rong’er, rest early. I’ll be back soon.”

He then got out of bed, walked outside, and asked, “Lord Liu, I am here. What guidance do you have for me?”

Military Envoy Liu said, “Commander Lü has urgent military matters to discuss and earnestly requests Great Hero Guo to come to the command post.”

“Very well, please!”

“Please!”

The footsteps gradually faded away until all was silent. On the canopy bed, Huang Rong felt a single tear slip from her eye.

Section Two: Old Man Sun

The next morning, Huang Rong was awakened by an increasingly urgent need to urinate. She opened her eyes and saw that the sun was already high in the sky. It seemed the drunken haze of the previous night had caused her to sleep past sunrise. She glanced at the bed and realized Guo Jing had not come to sleep there last night; he was likely detained at the marshal’s residence, leaving her with a faint sense of melancholy.

The urge to urinate struck her, and she habitually reached under the bed, only to find it empty. It turned out that the diligent maids in the Guo residence, seeing her still asleep and not wanting to disturb her, had taken the liberty of removing the chamber pot from under the bed for cleaning, knowing her fondness for cleanliness. It had not yet been returned.

Huang Rong had slept so deeply she hadn’t noticed, a fact that embarrassed her as a martial arts expert. Left with no choice, she got up, the urge growing stronger. Abandoning any pretense of dignity, she quickly freshened up and hurried out toward the privy in the residence. Along the way, servants and maids stopped to greet her, and Huang Rong, mindful of her status as the lady of the house, paused to nod in acknowledgment, which delayed her somewhat.

Clenching her bladder tightly, her steps grew unsteady. Just as she was about to reach her destination, she saw thick smoke billowing ahead, the air thick with a foul stench. Frowning, Huang Rong asked a nearby maid, “What’s going on over there? All this smoke and stench?”

The maid replied, “They’re cleaning the privy today and burning mugwort to mask the smell.”

Huang Rong nodded, inwardly groaning. Of all times, they had to clean the privy now. She knew that since Xiangyang City had been besieged, it had been tightly blockaded, and months of waste from the entire city had accumulated. Now that the enemy had retreated, nearby farmers who tilled the land had come with ox carts, carrying buckets and poles to collect the manure.

Wealthy households also took the opportunity to clear their cesspools, a mutually beneficial arrangement. Huang Rong’s timing couldn’t have been worse, coinciding with the Guo residence’s privy cleaning. Desperate and with nowhere to relieve herself, the usually resourceful female strategist found herself utterly helpless against her own bladder. If word got out, it would surely be a laughingstock.

Huang Rong smiled bitterly to herself and suddenly recalled a disused woodshed on the west side of the residence’s back gate. She could use it for a quick relief. Making up her mind, she didn’t hesitate and dashed off swiftly. Fortunately, it was a secluded corner rarely visited, so she encountered no one along the way.

She arrived shortly, pushed open the wooden door, and bolted it behind her. Inside, she saw a pile of dry firewood, half a person’s height, stacked neatly against the east wall. The servants had kept it clean, with no dust in sight. Without further thought, she ran over, untied her trousers, lifted the hem of her pleated skirt, and squatted her plump, fair buttocks down. As her inner thighs relaxed, a stream of golden urine splashed out, relieving the pressure in her bladder. The comfort was so overwhelming she couldn’t help but moan, “So comfortable!”

Unbeknownst to Huang Rong, behind that pile of firewood beside her, a pair of bloodshot eyes was fixed intently on her urine-splattered private area, unblinking.

Old Man Sun was an ordinary laborer in the Guo residence, tasked with carrying water and firewood. He was short in stature, with a lecherous appearance and a wrinkled, walnut-like face. Though only fifty-three or fifty-four, he looked more like seventy-five or seventy-six. Yet the old man was robust, with the strength and stamina of a vigorous forty-year-old. A native of Xiangyang, Old Man Sun hailed from a city that, due to its strategic terrain, had been a contested battleground since ancient times, repeatedly ravaged by war.

In these turbulent times, the warlike Mongol invaders had besieged the city year after year. Old Man Sun’s ancestors were simple, honest farmers from the surrounding villages. When the Mongols came, they failed to hide in time and were beheaded. His family fled into the city, scraping by as hired help, living in dire poverty. At over fifty, Old Man Sun remained a bachelor. Had the Guo residence’s steward not taken pity on his honesty and age when hiring, he might have starved on the streets before long.

Thus, Old Man Sun was deeply grateful and worked with exceptional diligence. Moreover, the Guo household treated its servants generously, providing food and lodging along with a monthly stipend of a few strings of cash. During festivals, aside from red envelopes, they’d also provide new seasonal clothes. In such chaotic times, where else could one find such a good home?

As the saying goes, “When well-fed and warm, lustful thoughts arise.” This proved true for Old Man Sun. Since becoming a servant in the Guo residence, living in spacious quarters, eating fine grains, and performing light labor, his cheeks had filled out, and his restless heart began to stir. He thought he couldn’t remain a bachelor forever.

So, on an auspicious day, he dressed up in new clothes and sought out the matchmaker woman from the back street, known for her silver tongue. He told her he was no longer young but had saved some money and wished for her to use her persuasive skills to arrange a marriage—not with an older woman, but with a tender maiden of sixteen. The matchmaker, knowing his background well, didn’t mock him openly since he was a client, but privately spread the story as a joke.

Soon, all the servants in the Guo residence knew of it. Some frivolous ones teased him to his face for being improper at his age, an old ox craving tender grass. Old Man Sun didn’t get angry; only when the teasing grew too much would he turn red-faced and swear, “I’ll marry a beautiful young wife to shame you all!”

Hearing this, everyone burst into laughter. Among the older women, maids, and servant girls in the residence, some laughed at him, while others pitied him. A few with flirtatious natures would tease him with suggestive remarks when they met. The old man took it seriously, thinking these sisters and girls fancied him, and began responding with cheeky banter of his own.

Those who knew their place and feared the Guo family’s rules spat at him and ignored him thereafter. But some loose women, finding him amusing, would lightly provoke him. Old Man Sun, having gained some verbal advantages, felt his heart burn with desire and couldn’t resist getting handsy. Those women were equally wanton—today letting him pinch their buttocks, tomorrow allowing him to grope their breasts under some pretext. They’d glare at him with feigned indignation and scold him, yet secretly felt a stir of passion. Old Man Sun, clever enough, noticed the springtime glint in their eyes when they glared and the coquettish smiles on their lips when they scolded. Delighted, he clung to them even more persistently.

Some, worn down by his pestering, would lead him to secluded spots, disrobe, and engage in passionate trysts. Each was astonished by the size and vigor of the old man’s member, his stamina and prowess rivaling that of a young man. He’d often leave them utterly defeated, crying out in surrender. Afterward, with swollen, sore privates, they’d limp away. The next time they saw him, they’d flee like mice spotting an old cat, none daring to take him on again.

Deprived of his pleasures, Old Man Sun grew restless and even considered visiting brothels. But his purse was thin, his funds meager. Going for a fling would only invite ridicule, and worse, he might be beaten and thrown out—losing face and risking his frail body. With no other options, he forced himself to endure. Yet every day, seeing the residence’s alluring maids and servant girls, swaying their slender waists before his eyes, the wicked fire in his heart raged like a stormy sea.

Helpless, he…