MTSAMAPOC Chapter 33

“It seems you didn’t finish your tasks today. Have you thought about what you’ll face?” Jiang Shouzhuo said, pointing with her shoe to a small box under the table. “Take it out.”

Ying Wutu immediately recognized it—it was the “gunpowder box” he’d taken from the guard.

But there was no gunpowder inside, just a bunch of whips and other instruments.

As expected, he would be beaten.

Familiar with the routine, he opened the box, searching through it with trembling hands for the second-thinnest whip, but it seemed buried at the bottom.

His arms, injured from fetching water during the day, made his hands tremble.

“That scared? It’s not your first beating. Who are you putting on a show for?” Jiang Shouzhuo noticed his trembling hands.

Ying Wutu stopped searching, looking at his uncontrollably shaking hands. Quickly rolling up his sleeves, he pitifully looked at her, “It’s because these bruises hurt so much.”

He raised his arms to show her the bruises.

Jiang Shouzhuo saw them and asked, “You’re saying your hands tremble from pain, not fear? So you’re not afraid of being beaten?”

Ying Wutu whimpered, lowering his hands. He felt his act of pity had failed, as she showed no sympathy, even mocking him.

“Also scared. If the slave is scared, can he avoid being beaten?” Ying Wutu slowly lowered his sleeves, seeing her in a good mood, he tried to plead.

“Did you finish your tasks?” she countered.

A rhetorical question.

Ying Wutu remained silent, continuing to dig through the box.

“You see, if you’d finished your tasks, you wouldn’t be punished. Isn’t this your own doing?” she leaned back, planning to whip him twice before taking him to bed. But seeing his arms covered in bruises, she felt a strange sensation—not quite pity, but deciding he’d suffered enough today, she changed her mind.

Finally finding the whip, Ying Wutu handed it to her, then began to undress.

He wondered how many lashes she would give.

He was starving.

Afterwards, would he stay here or be sent back to the woodshed?

So hungry…

Could he eat something before being beaten?

His mind wandered as he removed his shirt.

Taking the whip, she folded it in her hand.

“Why are there bruises on your chest and waist too?” she asked, setting the whip on the table. The housekeeper had reported his actions, and no one had bullied him. How did he get those bruises?

More pitiful than ever.

Closing his eyes, he waited for the whip, but answered quickly, “My hands are too weak to use the winch, so I used my arms. When my arms hurt too much, I used my upper body, bruising my chest and waist.”

Jiang Shouzhuo saw him looking up pitifully, explaining, reminding her of a hunting dog she once had.

Whenever she shot an arrow and hit the target, the hunting dog would sprint away.

Returning with the prey in its mouth, the dog would place it at her feet, looking up at her expectantly, waiting for praise.

At this point, Jiang Shouzhuo would lower her bow, roughly pat the dog’s head, and praise, “Good dog.”

The hunting dog would wag its tail excitedly.

After the hunting dog died, she didn’t go hunting much anymore, nor did she do such things.

But now…

Jiang Shouzhuo reached out her hand, saying to the little rabbit, “Come here.”

Ying Wutu was a bit scared. What was the wicked woman reaching out for?

Quickly replaying his words in his mind, he realized he’d accidentally referred to himself as “I” instead of “slave.”

He was about to be slapped.

Oh no, the wicked woman’s slap would knock him out cold.

Well, getting knocked out might be better; she wouldn’t whip him then, right?

But she had threatened to whip him even if he died.

Even unconscious, he might not escape her clutches.

After all, she was so wicked.

Ying Wutu crawled forward on his knees, closing his eyes tightly, bracing for a slap—

But no slap came.

Instead, she patted his head, stroking his hair twice.

“You’re quite clever.” Jiang Shouzhuo retracted her hand, feeling more like the little rabbit was a dog.

She’d never denied the little rabbit was a clever opponent; otherwise, he wouldn’t have held his own against her on the battlefield for six months.

Hearing this, Ying Wutu’s lips curled up slightly, his eyes opening a bit, looking at the wicked woman with a gaze shifting from fear to surprise to… pride.

She praised him!

He knew it!

When he figured out how to fetch water, he knew!

She’d be curious how he managed with crippled hands, and when she asked, he’d tell her, and she’d praise him!

Being praised felt so good.

If he had a tail, it would be wagging furiously.

“Proud of yourself? Think praise means you won’t be beaten? Choose, where do you want to be hit?” Jiang Shouzhuo didn’t understand what he was proud of; did he guess she softened?

She didn’t like being predictable.

“Anywhere’s fine.” Ying Wutu felt lightheaded; it didn’t matter where.

He was happy.

Seeing him still smiling, she grew annoyed, thinking he’d guessed her thoughts, raising the whip high—

But she didn’t bring it down.

The little rabbit was already covered in bruises, a pitiful sight.

Whipping him more would ruin her enjoyment.

She also feared he’d die from the pain.

Ying Wutu waited, shivering, but no whip fell.

Seeing him tremble, she placed the whip on the table, asking, “Afraid now? Then why were you smiling?”

She thought he trembled from fear.

“Just…” Ying Wutu slowly opened his eyes, seeing the whip on the table, a glimmer of hope, “because the master praised the slave.”

Was she not going to whip him?

Honestly sharing his thoughts, hoping not to anger her.

“Praise makes you happy?” Jiang Shouzhuo, realizing her thoughts weren’t guessed, felt her anger dissipate.

Strange, she’d never calmed so quickly.

“Of course.” Ying Wutu couldn’t help but feel giddy.

Jiang Shouzhuo averted her gaze, finding the little rabbit adorable again.

Enough thinking, adorable or cunning, tonight she would “feast”!

“I’ve decided to change your punishment. Go to the bed,” Jiang Shouzhuo ordered, standing up.

Ying Wutu didn’t dare smile this time. He blinked, following her gaze to the bed.

A punishment on the bed?

He felt uneasy.

“The slave…”

“Hurry up!” Jiang Shouzhuo commanded. Seeing him still kneeling, she hoisted him onto her shoulder, carrying him to the bed.

The iron ball dragged on the ground, and Ying Wutu’s waist, already injured, ached against her shoulder.

“Not even started, and you’re already making noise?” Jiang Shouzhuo dropped him onto the bed, straddling him, and began undressing.

Ying Wutu’s face turned red with urgency. “No… it’s not possible…”

“Resisting again? Want another slap?”

Last time he resisted, he was slapped.

Jiang Shouzhuo didn’t mind giving him another one.

“Ugh…” Ying Wutu stopped struggling, lowering his eyes, remaining silent.

He was “incapable,” not because of her.

Explanations were futile, and resistance was pointless; she would soon find out herself.

“Now you’re obedient. Please me, and I’ll give you some medicine,” Jiang Shouzhuo stripped him quickly. “Why do you look more flushed than before? What have you been up to?”

Ying Wutu turned his face away, avoiding her lewd words.

“Still shy? Didn’t your last wish before death involve offering yourself to me? Now your wish can be granted.” Jiang Shouzhuo tried several times but couldn’t proceed. Growing angry, she slapped him hard.

“Ah—”

Ying Wutu had never screamed so loudly.

Not when others broke his finger, not when she beat him, not when she severed his tendons. Never this loud.

He felt she would break him.

Oh right, he was already broken.

Now he was just more broken.

“Still screaming? You useless thing, what’s wrong with you?” Jiang Shouzhuo had never encountered this before.

Ying Wutu could explain now. It was so painful that his voice was shaking when he spoke: “Because I really can’t do it anymore…”

So that’s what he meant by “incapable” earlier.

Jiang Shouzhu looked helpless. She could only settle for the second best. She turned and lay down, and ordered: “It’s your turn, you useless thing. If this still can’t make me happy, I will hang you on a tree and whip you.”

 

“Mm…” Ying Wutu slowly got up. If he had to choose, he’d prefer this; at least he wouldn’t risk carrying her child. Despite being at her mercy now, he hoped to seek revenge one day and didn’t want to bear his enemy’s child.

And…

The wicked woman had abundant energy. He’d seen two men limping out of her room earlier. With his current bruised state, he feared she’d play him to death.

Reflecting, Ying Wutu felt grateful to the fifth prince. Thanks to the prince’s medicine, he escaped disaster tonight.

“Don’t bite me. If you do, I’ll pierce your tongue and chain it,” Jiang Shouzhuo threatened, recalling her dream of the little rabbit biting her.

Ying Wutu nodded obediently.

It was his first time doing such a thing, starting cautiously then growing bolder.

His wrists, bruised and gripped by her, hurt.

He felt pain from her grip, and he wanted to take revenge on her, so he ate a lot…

But what kind of revenge was this?

It’s just working harder.

Soon, Ying Wutu felt the consequences. A burning pressure built in his stomach, filling him with emptiness and discomfort. He wanted to do something, to feel warmth, but…

He touched himself with his other hand that was not held, but it still didn’t work.

Nothing worked.

But he wanted it.

Hearing her joyous sounds, he craved that happiness, wanting to feel it too.

She had so much joy, couldn’t she share a little?

But he couldn’t achieve it. He was incapable.

Only able to watch and listen, unable to feel.

Though he felt his pain and frustration, why couldn’t he?

“Ugh…”

Again it ended.

Boldly resting on her lap, tears soaked his cheeks, but he felt her warmth.

Her warmth, thanks to his efforts.

Yet she couldn’t share even a bit with him.

He continued to despise himself: No wonder his father, when alive, always scolded him as a worthless and contemptible thing.

His father was right; he truly was.

Ying Wutu finally had a good night’s sleep.

Not just because of the comfortable bed and ample fire in the room, but because… he slept in her embrace.

Her embrace was always so warm and reliable.

If only the wicked woman didn’t beat people.

Morning came.

Jiang Shouzhuo woke up first, seeing the little greedy rabbit still asleep. She opened the door, stretched lazily, and saw the housekeeper standing at the door, signaling with her eyes.

While changing clothes, she noticed something on the ground and walked over to check.

It was the shirt the little rabbit had removed while kneeling yesterday.

Something fell out of the shirt.

It was a crumpled piece of paper.

Opening it, she saw the words she had written.

Wasn’t this the paper bird?

She had casually written it to tease him, so why did the little rabbit keep it? And keep it close? Judging by the marks, had he even tried to fold it back into a bird?

Jiang Shouzhuo chuckled. So he did.

He loves me that much.

Jiang Shouzhuo didn’t wake the exhausted little rabbit. She quickly folded the paper back into a bird.

She placed the paper bird back on the shirt and left in her court attire.

When Ying Wutu woke, it was already dawn.

Oh no, he was late. He hadn’t swept the yard yet and would surely be caught by the housekeeper. Not punished last night, could he escape today?

What if the wicked woman settled the score together, wouldn’t he lose a layer of skin?

Sigh, he was doomed.

He scrambled off the bed, his pants thrown in the corner, his shirt on the floor. As he picked up his shirt, he saw the… paper bird.

The wicked woman had folded it?

Who else dared enter her room?

It had to be her.

She saw he kept her paper bird.

Ying Wutu lowered his eyes, his thoughts swirling, recalling last night’s desires and tangled emotions…

“Awake?” the housekeeper’s voice suddenly called from outside. She had heard him get up; the dragging iron ball made a distinct noise, but she hesitated to enter, worried he wasn’t dressed.

After all… the young mistress wouldn’t have kept him overnight just for company.

Ying Wutu shuddered, any lingering thoughts vanished. He hurriedly dressed and opened the door, saying quietly, “The slave will go to work…”

Feeling guilty, he knew he was late.

“Wait,” the housekeeper said.

Ying Wutu’s heart sank—was he to be punished first?

“The young mistress instructed me. You did well last night and can have some leftovers. Follow me.” The housekeeper led the way, stopping at the yard entrance when Ying Wutu hesitated. She urged expressionlessly, “Hurry up.”

Ying Wutu followed quickly.

He couldn’t help but feel a secret joy.

Not just because he finally had food after a day and night of hunger, but… he had been praised by the wicked woman again.

The wicked woman was really “wicked”! Always praising people!

He couldn’t help but laugh.

The housekeeper, walking ahead, heard his laughter and felt goosebumps. Had the young mistress tortured him mad?

Why was he laughing?

The dining hall was empty, but a table in the corner held a spread of dishes.

Ying Wutu looked around, spotting the abundant food, but knowing it wasn’t his “leftovers.”

So where were his leftovers? Even looking in the corners, he saw no bowl.

The housekeeper pointed to the table, “Go eat.”

Ying Wutu was even more stunned this time. He pointed to himself and asked, “All of this is for me?”

The housekeeper, matter-of-factly, said, “Yes, the young mistress instructed. Eat and then stay in your woodshed. No work today, and no wandering around.” Then she left.

Ying Wutu walked to the table.

Does the Jiang family call this leftovers?

It was as good as what he had during his three days of recovery. Judging by the time, it was well past the servants’ breakfast. Did they make this just for him?

Did he really perform well last night? Did the wicked woman reward him because she was satisfied?

Could it be that as long as he was obedient and listened to her, he wouldn’t be beaten and could live better?

But… she’s the enemy.

Ying Wutu shook his head forcefully, deciding to eat. He was starving after a day and a night, and needed to fill up.

The dining hall was empty. He stuffed food into his mouth, thinking: Better eat enough. Who knows when the next meal will be? And with a full belly, he’d have the energy to please her tonight. Last night, he was too exhausted…

Wait!

Ying Wutu put down his spoon, blinking.

What was he thinking just now?

How could he think of pleasing her voluntarily?

Think of the dead clansmen, think of the captured ruler!

Anger rose within him again. He despised himself for being so despicable.

He went from eating joyfully to eating angrily.

As if he were not eating food, but drinking her blood, eating her flesh.

No…

Last night, he drank and ate her.

Clearly happy, and she even happier.

Why was he thinking this again!

Ying Wutu gulped down a mouthful of hot porridge, trying to drown out the strange thoughts.

The hot porridge warmed his throat, esophagus, and stomach, and his lower abdomen felt a warmth.

He thought of last night’s heat.

If only… the fifth prince hadn’t given him the medicine.

Ying Wutu slammed his bowl on the table. This time, he was truly angry at himself.

He had told himself not to think about it, so why was he still thinking!

Unable to eat anymore, he secretly tucked the remaining three buns into his clothes and returned to the broken woodshed.

He hid the buns in a corner for when he’d be hungry again.

Lying back on the hard ground, he took out the paper bird from his sleeve.

It was as if he were admiring a rare treasure.

But it was just a paper bird she had casually folded.

He couldn’t bear to unfold it, but he remembered what was written inside. He murmured to himself, “I am Jiang Shouzhuo’s little rabbit.”

He laughed foolishly after saying it.

Wondering what the wicked woman would have him do today.