Ever since that braised pork was served, the situation had evolved into a routine where the food was in the pot and the meals were in the bedroom. During the day, Qin Hongmian and Gan Baobao would catch up on sleep while Murong Fu practiced his internal energy, slipping out through a hidden compartment to cook up all sorts of delicacies for the two ladies.
Because Qin Hongmian and Gan Baobao had to frequently visit the physician, the lack of sleep left both beauties looking haggard, which only made them appear all the more delicate and pitiable. Every evening, Murong Fu would be helped up by Qin Hongmian, while Gan Baobao would softly call out, "Brother Fu, time for your medicine."
Murong Fu would groan as he sat up, punctuated by a few weak, listless coughs—a sight that would make anyone think he was at death's door. Once the lamp was extinguished, Gan Baobao would climb into bed. Sister Gan and Sister Qin took their places on either side. In the pitch-black room, Murong Fu’s left and right hands were already claimed by two slender, jade-like hands. Yes, despite being mere teenagers, they had already begun holding hands.
"Brother Fu, continue the story of Zhang Sheng and Cui Yingying," Qin Hongmian urged, eager for more of *The Romance of the Western Chamber*.
"Yes, Brother Fu, hurry! Zhang Sheng has fallen ill with lovesickness; what happened next?"
At first, Murong Fu had slept on the outside, with the three of them lying in bed like stiff corpses, cramped and awkward. Murong Fu had suggested telling stories to pass the time. *The Injustice to Dou E* was his first choice; after all, tragedies were often the most moving, and the telling of it had earned plenty of tears from the two women. Especially during the scene of the summer snow and the blood splashing three yards high, the two beauties had been so gripped by indignation and grief that they had gritted their teeth, leaving quite a few pinch marks on Murong Fu’s waist.
Though the two beauties appeared delicate, they certainly didn't hold back when pinching his waist. When Murong Fu complained, they remained unrepentant. "Hmph, who told you to tell such a miserable story?" Yet, after they spoke in unison, they would immediately break into soft laughter.
They had been hesitant to call him "Brother Fu" at first, but over time, they found themselves doing so involuntarily. As for their sleeping arrangement—or, rather, their knowledge of bed etiquette—Qin Hongmian had initially stayed as far from Murong Fu as possible. But later, to hear the stories better, she would seize the moment Gan Baobao went to blow out the lamp to pull Murong Fu into the middle, leaving Gan Baobao to sleep on the edge.
Gan Baobao wasn't happy about Qin Hongmian’s maneuvering; it felt as though a treasure was being shared by her sister. But whenever she pursed her lips to express her dissatisfaction, Brother Fu would already be deep into his story, and she could only lie back obediently to listen. After all, she had never heard such tales before, and they were simply too captivating. Eventually, Gan Baobao grew accustomed to sleeping on the edge.
In the past, whenever they reached a particularly moving part, the two beauties would instinctively grab Murong Fu’s arms or pinch his waist. Later on, as soon as the lamp was out, they would voluntarily place their hands in his, because behind closed doors, Brother Fu always insisted that holding hands was better than having his waist pinched. One day, Murong Fu even suspended his storytelling because of a sore waist; sure enough, the next day, those fair, tender hands were back in his grasp.
Sometimes the two beauties would secretly think that this little scoundrel was getting bolder by the inch—not only did he want to hold hands, but he would also knead them in his palm. Yet, if Gan Baobao and Qin Hongmian happened to catch each other’s eyes, they would feel too shy to bring it up. They could only wonder in their hearts if their sister/junior sister had also had her hands kneaded by that little scoundrel.
"So, Zhang Sheng fell ill with lovesickness. When Cui Yingying learned of it, she could not bear the pain in her heart, so she sent Hongniang to deliver a message, arranging the secret plan to deliver the cure..."
Murong Fu spoke slowly, detailing the delivery of the medicine. (Five thousand words omitted here. What? You say it wasn't in the original version of *The Romance of the Western Chamber*? In this era, Murong Fu was the original author, and if the original author says it’s there, it’s there.)
At first, Qin Hongmian and Gan Baobao listened with great interest, but as he went on, their faces flushed bright red, and they felt as if a fire had ignited within their bodies, consuming them completely. Inch by inch, as Murong Fu recounted the tale, it was as if they were present at the very moment Cui Yingying delivered the cure to Zhang Sheng. They imagined themselves as the infinitely bashful Cui Yingying, and Murong Fu as the Zhang Sheng savoring the medicine. Both beauties squeezed their eyes shut, leaving only Murong Fu’s eyes shining with a piercing light in the darkness.
On the river, the wind picked up. The two small boats on the water began to sway, the breeze brushing over the river and the vessels alike. Wine jars on the boats shattered, the fragrance of wine drifting through the air as the river water splashed against the hulls. For a moment, it was unclear if the river was too turbulent or if the wine was simply too intoxicating; the air was thick with a bewitching scent.
"Brother Fu is too wicked! I can never again believe his lie about only being thirteen. What thirteen-year-old could possibly be this worldly? And he was so detailed—it’s as if he’s seen every inch of my body."
"Bah, this little scoundrel... he’s making me feel so uncomfortable! And with my sister (junior sister) right here, how dare he!"
None of the three realized that the thoughts running through the two beauties' minds were identical, right down to the order in which they occurred.
"Eh, what is that scent? So sweet, so fragrant~" After finishing his story, Murong Fu sniffed the air, as if trying to catch the scent.
"Hmph!" (Both spoke in unison.)
Two pairs of hands simultaneously pinched Murong Fu’s waist.
"Ah! Easy, easy! My waist!"