Chapter 3: To Achieve Perfect Dough, You Must Knead and Rest It Three Times
At the break of dawn, a faint light filled the bridal tent.
On the brocade couch, Suo Canzhi lay on her side, her disheveled hair resembling the wild, vigorous grass of spring.
Her exquisitely beautiful face was partially hidden among the tangled dark strands, her brows slightly furrowed, with faint traces of tears at the corners of her eyes.
A soft, thin quilt draped over her body, slipping from her shoulder to reveal a patch of smooth, jade-like skin.
On that delicate flesh were fresh bruises, turning her tender shoulder the color of blue-and-white porcelain.
It was the fifth watch of the early morning, when roosters crow, but on the Gobi desert there were no roosters, and thus no crowing. Still, Suo Canzhi opened her eyes around that time.
Her eyelids twitched slightly before her eyes slowly opened.
Her hazy gaze took a long moment to clear, and then she recalled everything from the previous night, unable to quite define the tangled emotions stirring within her.
From that moment on, she was no longer the girl she once was.
Behind her, a heated breath blew steadily against her smooth back. Suo Canzhi dared not turn around.
She pressed her lips together and endured for a long while, gradually steadying her breath before struggling to rise.
But the moment she moved, a wave of soreness swept through her body, causing her to grit her teeth in pain.
The night before, she had summoned Yang Can dressed in her finest attire. While part of it was because she had no plain clothes suitable for mourning on the wedding journey, there was also a deeper intention.
She knew that what had happened that night could never be exposed to the light of day. Yet, it was a crucial moment marking her transformation from a tender girl into a woman.
She did not want her life to be filled with regrets; she wished to preserve as many beautiful memories of that moment as possible.
But now, the only impressions left were those of brutality and savagery.
Suo Canzhi understood that the man was deliberately tormenting her out of resentment.
Biting her lip, she stubbornly tried to stand again, her brows knitting together at the slightest movement, but she forced herself to endure and struggled to her feet.
After dressing and checking herself over to find no further abnormalities, she tiptoed out of the bridal tent.
As the tent flap gently closed behind her, Yang Can, who had been feigning sleep, suddenly opened his eyes.
He rolled over, grabbed the candleholder on the bedside table, swiftly snapped the candle in half, and placed the pointed brass candlestick within easy reach before dressing hurriedly.
Once dressed, seeing no one rushing in to silence him, he seized the candleholder and dashed toward the tent entrance…
…
Yang Can had unexpectedly entered this world three years ago.
This realm was not a part of his original timeline, but its history and geography closely resembled the period before the Sui and Tang dynasties, or the late Northern and Southern dynasties in his own world. It seemed he had crossed into a parallel dimension.
Before this, Yang Can had worked in IT, a skill utterly useless here.
Alone and unfamiliar, he suffered greatly upon arrival. Near starvation, he was luckily taken in by a horse ranch.
This ranch belonged to the Yu family, one of the eight powerful clans in Longshang, specifically the Tianshui branch. Yang Can worked there as a horse herder for two and a half years.
Half a year ago, a young man riding at full speed suddenly collapsed before him, coughing up dark purple blood.
Yang Can hastily gathered some veterinary herbs, brewed them into a paste, and forced it down the man's throat. Unexpectedly, the dying horse was revived.
That man was Yu Chengye, the eldest son of the Yu family’s main branch.
Yu Chengye had been ambushed during a hunt, struck by a poisoned arrow, and fled for his life, only to be rescued by Yang Can.
…
The young master, impressed by Yang Can’s unusual demeanor and indebted for saving his life, took him on as a personal retainer.
From then on, Yang Can’s fortunes changed; he thought that by aligning with the eldest son of a powerful clan, he could command the winds and rains.
But the winds blew too fiercely, the rains fell too hard, and the tree was uprooted…
Yang Can never believed Suo Canzhi’s claims about being “second only to the ruler.” Such a grand conspiracy was impossible—her family would never have spared his life.
The problem was, he could no longer rely on the clan’s power.
Because, no matter how innocent he was, the undeniable fact was that he had lain with the Yu family’s eldest son’s wife.
To the family, this was a death sentence in itself.
Now, if he wanted to survive, he could only depend on himself.
…
Suo Canzhi staggered out of the bridal tent.
In the sunlight, Old Mother Tu sat cross-legged before the main tent, seemingly never needing sleep.
Suo Canzhi immediately softened her footsteps, striving to make her movements as light and natural as they had been before last night.
Yet she still walked like a mermaid newly washed ashore.
“Old Mother Tu…”
Suo Canzhi faltered as she approached, clearing her hoarse throat softly. “You may act now.”
There was no ripple of emotion in the young beauty’s heart.
The old saying, “A day as husband and wife is a bond for a hundred days,” was a mockery.
Whenever she thought of that brute who had ravaged her all night like a beast, Suo Canzhi wished he would just die immediately.
For the sake of their child—who would be that man’s flesh and blood—she was already showing the greatest kindness by not taking matters into her own hands.
“Act? Act how?” Old Mother Tu turned to her, bewildered.
Suo Canzhi was equally puzzled by the question and stammered, “Didn’t you say that once the plan succeeds, we would…”
Old Mother Tu suddenly realized, snorting with irritation. “The plan succeeded? Are you sure just one night’s union was enough to conceive?”
Who said it was only once?
Three times, four times…
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