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In the Nineteenth Year of Jian'an, Zhuge Liang arranged for Guan Yu to stay behind while Zhang Fei and Zhao Yun led troops to rendezvous with Liu Bei in Bashu.
Zhuge Liang served as the strategist general of the Shu Army and also took on responsibilities at the Grand Marshal's Office.
That night, the candlelight flickered in the tent.
Huang Yueying lay in bed, quietly gazing at the top of the tent. Through the curtain, she softly instructed, "Yu Xi, tell me again about the time when my husband fought at the Red Cliffs Battle!"
"My lady, you are ill; you should rest more..." Yu Xi advised with concern.
"Just speak. I can't help but wonder what he is doing right now..." Huang Yueying replied, her voice catching in her throat.
Outside the tent, the young attendant had no choice but to recount once more the stories he had told countless times before.
Huang Yueying closed her eyes, her body trembling with fever from typhoid. She listened as the attendant spoke of her husband’s passionate debates with scholars in Eastern Wu; how he had borrowed arrows with laughter and song during the famous incident... In her dazed state, she could only see his blurred figure before her, gently waving a feather fan, clad in a moonlight-blue brocade robe, reminiscent of the fleeting shadow of a blooming night-blooming cereus in the courtyard.
"You have suffered," he sighed softly, and then the vision shattered.
In a daze, she suddenly heard Zhuge Liang's voice lingering by her ear: "A Chou, you must be blaming me in your heart, right?"
Huang Yueying jolted awake to find Zhuge Liang sitting by her bedside, his warm hand gently stroking her face. She instinctively grasped his hand and said, "You have dedicated your life to assisting a wise ruler and restoring order to the world. Although we are often apart now, all I can do is ensure you wear clothes that I have personally washed every day..."
"How can you say that? In this cold weather, my clothes could easily be left for the maids to wash. Why must you do everything yourself? Now that you are so ill, how can I feel at ease?" His eyes were filled with guilt, yet she feigned nonchalance and said, "If you truly care for me, why not marry a sister for me soon?"
Zhuge Liang was taken aback, but he soon heard the silent boy behind him finally speak up, "Sir, the lady's illness this time is not entirely due to the cold. Much of it comes from hearing those idle gossip outside, saying she has yet to bear any children, which has caused her heart to be troubled..."
"Yu Xi!" Huang Yueying urgently interrupted him, but Zhuge Liang released his hand and gently picked up the feather fan by the bedside, caressing its surface. "A Chou, do you really want me to marry another woman because of the issue of heirs?"
Huang Yueying's expression dimmed for a moment. After a long pause, she pouted like a child and murmured, "It's better than in the future when you blame me for not leaving you any descendants and casting me out of the the Zhuge Family!"
Upon hearing this, Zhuge Liang seemed to genuinely ponder her words. Huang Yueying looked into his eyes, but the hope in her gaze gradually faded.
Suddenly, a faint smile spread from his brow to his eyes.
Huang Yueying felt a tightening around her waist and realized that he had pulled her onto his lap.
"A Chou, answer me honestly. If I were to marry another woman and treat her as I do you, would you feel jealous?"
"What good would my jealousy do? At most, I would hide in my tent and secretly draw a little figure to curse you to be even busier than now and curse her to be unable to conceive. Then we’ll see who dares to laugh at me for being a barren hen!" She said indignantly, her voice thick with nasal congestion from her illness, sounding somewhat childish and endearing.
Zhuge Liang's eyes slowly turned crescent-shaped. "A Chou, I truly love you like this! All these years, I've always worried that you might regret it deep down and sever your feelings for me, returning to that girl who only loved wooden figures and dogs in her youth..."
"I actually wish I were just a simple farmer from Longzhong instead of this useless Lady Zhuge..."
Before she could finish her sentence, he pulled her into the quilt.
"Sir..." she exclaimed in surprise, wanting to remind him that the boy was still outside. However, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Yu Xi had quietly left at some point and had even closed the door softly behind him.
Meanwhile, his hand had slipped like a nimble little snake beneath her thin garment, his cold fingertips touching her heated skin, as gentle kisses traced from her forehead down to her neck.
"Sir..." she said, both shy and anxious, "I am still unwell; be careful not to catch my illness..."
Zhuge Liang chuckled softly, biting her lower lip, his voice low and teasing: "Who was it just now that complained I neglected my delicate wife, causing you to be mocked for having no children?"
At a loss for words, she could only let him fan the flames of desire. Her already heated body felt as if it had been completely ignited, and her hands unknowingly climbed up to his shoulders.
Until the brilliant fireworks exploded before her eyes, she heard his soft breath whispering: "A Chou, in this world, all I need is you!"
The next morning, when she awoke, only the familiar scent of him lingered by her pillow.
"Madam, I just saw the master writing a letter to adopt the son of the lord into his family. He said the letter would be placed under your pillow. Next time you hear those idle rumors, you can send someone to deliver the letter to Jiangdong. He also mentioned that you should not trouble him with talk of taking a concubine; how could he ever find another woman as uniquely beautiful as you?"
"Bah!" she pouted playfully, reaching under her pillow to pull out the letter still carrying the scent of ink, a smile lighting up her eyes.
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