Forbidden to Bully the Storybook’s Heroine – Chapter 18

Give Murong Qing a Beating

Song Muyun was truly sleepy. Cradled in Jiang Yao’s arms, it wasn’t long before she fell into a deep slumber. Her eyes were gently closed, and perhaps because of Jiang Yao’s body heat, a blush spread across both her cheeks. Jiang Yao wasn’t asleep. She pulled back a little, lowered her head, and poked Song Muyun’s face. It was soft and smooth—it felt so good to the touch!

“Muyun?”

“Young Miss Song?”

She called out twice but received no response. The person in her arms was already fast asleep.

Jiang Yao let out a breath of relief. Carefully, so very carefully, she slipped out of the embrace, leaving Song Muyun alone in the bedding. Then she tucked the corners of the quilt in for her, meticulous in every detail, until she was wrapped up like a silkworm chrysalis¹. Only then did she turn and leave without a sound.

At this time, Murong Qing should be on his way to his post. He was currently working at the Ministry of Personnel², and his route would take him through a deserted alley.

For safety, Jiang Yao put on the night-traveling clothes³ she hadn’t worn in a long time, even binding her chest. She was already tall and slender, and now, wrapped in black from head to toe with only a pair of sharp eyes showing, it would be difficult for anyone to recognize her as a woman.

Then… she slipped into the alley, threw a burlap sack over the head of the completely unprepared Murong Qing as he passed by, and gave him a beating.

As a prince, Murong Qing naturally had shadow guards⁴ with him. But he was conceited about his status, believing no one would dare be disrespectful to him, so he only brought one. Wasn’t knocking him out an easy-peasy matter?

Jiang Yao specifically struck Murong Qing in places that wouldn’t be visible. The man on the ground cursed endlessly, using his status to threaten her. She heard him but paid it no mind, remaining silent as she beat him until he could no longer shout, leaving him with nothing but one pained groan after another. Only then did she feel a bit better. Finally, she gave Murong Qing’s ass a vicious kick, followed by a hand-knife⁵ chop to his shoulder, successfully knocking him unconscious. Then, avoiding all eyes and ears, she quietly departed.

She changed back into the dress she was wearing today and hurried back to Yueshang House.

The people at Yueshang House really didn’t know how to do things, arranging Song Muyun’s courtyard so far away. The walk was killing her.

Before going in, she glanced up at the sky. She had been gone for less than half a shichen⁶; the person inside shouldn’t be awake yet.

With another creak, Jiang Yao gingerly pushed open the wooden door, trying her best to make as little noise as possible. But what met her eyes was the figure of someone sitting dazedly on the wooden bed.

Jiang Yao froze. A moment ago, she had been hunched over like a thief, trying to sneak back in. Now, she could only straighten up in a clumsy attempt to hide what she’d been doing⁷. She gave a light cough, strode inside, closed the door, and walked to the bedside.

Song Muyun’s gaze had been on her the entire time, watching her close the door, watching her approach the bed, but she didn’t say a word. She just stared at her, dazed and not quite awake.

A little cute. Jiang Yao’s hands were itching. She couldn’t help but curl her fingers a couple of times, but she was too embarrassed to act on it. She just asked, “Why are you awake?”

Song Muyun had clearly just woken up not long ago, a hazy mist of confusion still clouding her eyes. Hearing the question, she tilted her head and replied obediently, “I was a little cold, so I woke up.”

Jiang Yao looked at her thin quilt. It was indeed cold enough for that.

She took off her outer robe again, slipped into the quilt, and casually wrapped an arm around Song Muyun, pulling the still-groggy person into her embrace. She guided her to lie down, her voice uncharacteristically gentle as she coaxed, “Then you won’t be cold with me holding you. Go back to sleep for a while.”

Song Muyun hadn’t gotten enough sleep to begin with; she had only woken up abruptly because she was cold and realized the person beside her was gone. Now, being held in a warm body, she barely thought about it and fell asleep with ease.

Jiang Yao’s hand rested on Song Muyun’s supple, slender waist, patting it lightly now and then. As she patted, drowsiness crept up on her, and she too drifted off to sleep.

When she woke again, the day had already grown warm. It was likely wushi⁸, the warmest time of day.

The moment Jiang Yao opened her eyes, she felt sore all over and couldn’t help but let out a soft hiss.

It startled the person in her arms.

Song Muyun had already been awake, but she had been afraid of waking Jiang Yao, so she had stayed obediently in her embrace without moving, her face flushed red, until Jiang Yao woke up and made a sound of pain.

The person in her arms looked up, her delicate features etched with a bit of nervousness. “What’s wrong? Where are you uncomfortable?”

Jiang Yao’s face was a mask of misery. Where was she uncomfortable?

She was uncomfortable all over!

This wooden bed was so hard, and who knows why they didn’t pad it with a few layers of cotton wadding. She couldn’t get used to sleeping on it at all. It was killing her.

Jiang Yao struggled to sit up, forgetting that she was still holding Song Muyun, and ended up pulling Song Muyun up into a sitting position in her arms as well.

Their posture was intimate, like two lovers waking up together.

Being lifted up like that, Song Muyun’s face was pressed against Jiang Yao’s soft chest. Her originally snow-white ears turned red again, the picture of extreme shyness.

Jiang Yao didn’t see anything wrong with the position, but Song Muyun did. She didn’t say anything, though. Since she was a guest of Yueshang House, a little closeness was… acceptable.

“This bed is too hard. My back hurts from sleeping on it.”

Jiang Yao complained in a low voice, her face scrunched up.

Song Muyun’s slender, snow-white fingers immediately landed on her waist, her voice tinged with an inexplicable apology. “Let me rub it for you. I’m sorry, I wasn’t considerate enough.”

The first time she had slept on such a hard wooden bed, she had also woken up aching all over, but she hadn’t considered Jiang Yao.

Jiang Yao had grown up in the Jiang Residence with brocade clothes and jade food⁹; she definitely wouldn’t be used to this. It was her oversight.

Feeling a measure of self-blame, Song Muyun began to gently rub Jiang Yao’s sore waist.

Her fingers were soft, and the pressure was so comfortable it could make a person sigh in contentment. Jiang Yao heard the self-reproach in her voice, and the arm around her inexplicably tightened. She leaned her whole body against Song Muyun’s shoulder, hugging her. “It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt that much. Just keep rubbing for me. It feels so good.”

She had practiced martial arts since she was young and often overtrained, resulting in an aching back and sore waist. She was long used to this feeling.

Song Muyun, however, was made to blush by her frequent displays of intimacy. She said softly, “Then lie on your stomach, and I’ll give you a proper massage.”

She had learned a little, to help make her mother more comfortable.

Jiang Yao obediently lay on her stomach, her back to Song Muyun. Her waist was similarly slender and lean, exuding a kind of supple strength.

Song Muyun sat on the edge of the bed and gently massaged her, occasionally asking, “Does it hurt? Is the pressure too much? Let me know if it’s uncomfortable…”

She was the very picture of a virtuous wife and good mother.

Throughout the whole process, Jiang Yao could only manage comfortable grunts and moans. After enjoying it for a while, she flipped over to lie on her back and pulled Song Muyun down to lie with her, her voice filled with leisure. “It’s really nice being with you.”

It was a complete, inexplicable comfort, a feeling she never had with anyone else.

Song Muyun was only concerned about her body. Even as she was pulled down, she didn’t forget to ask, “Does your body still hurt? Should I rub it for you some more?”

Jiang Yao shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Let’s lie here for a bit, then we’ll go eat. You must be hungry, right?”

As she asked, her hand, behaving quite unruly, went directly to touch Song Muyun’s stomach.

She pressed it twice without a trace of awkwardness, then withdrew her hand as if nothing had happened. “You really are hungry. What do you want to eat?”

Song Muyun’s face was already so red that she had pulled the quilt up to half-cover it. Her voice came out muffled. “Anything is fine. I’ll listen to Young Miss Jiang.”

Jiang Yao patted her, slightly displeased. “I already told you to just call me Jiang Yao. Why are you still being so distant?”

Today, the two of them had slept in the same bed. She felt that she and Song Muyun could, at the very least, be considered friends who could call each other by name.

Jiang Yao turned her head to look, waiting until Song Muyun, clutching the corner of the quilt, hesitated before softly calling her name. Only then did she become happy again.

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The author has something to say:

The word count is a bit high, I plan to cut it down, so I’m taking a day off tomorrow. Please forgive me, I’ll make it up after the novel goes VIP QAQ

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