Chapter 835: Shock

Goblin: Spicy chapter warning.

---

Song Qingshu’s eyes widened in astonishment. Though he was thoroughly enjoying the sweetness and softness of Gebi’s lips, he still pushed her away and looked down at her with a serious expression. “What are you doing?”  

Gebi smiled faintly. “This is my way of repaying you for avenging my husband.”  

A dark line seemed to form over Song Qingshu’s head. “Brother Tang Kuo and I swore an oath of brotherhood. Avenging him is only right—there’s no need for any repayment. How can I possibly accept this… this kind of payment?”  

“Your nobility in being willing to avenge Wogula speaks to your honorable character. But as his wife, I cannot be so ungrateful as to let you take such risks without compensation.” Natural modesty made Gebi’s cheeks grow hotter, yet strangely, her heart remained calm.  

“Madam, you really don’t need to do this. You have your reasons, and I have my principles. If I truly wanted to take advantage of your vulnerability to possess you, I could have used the matter of revenge to pressure you long ago—believe me, I’ve done such things before.” Visions of Nan Lan and Luo Bing’s resentful gazes flashed through his mind. “So I genuinely want to help you.”  

Song Qingshu wore an expression of righteous dignity, as if bathed in a halo of justice—until Gebi’s next words shattered it completely:  

“That night… wasn’t that taking advantage of me?”  

Her jade-like cheeks burned as she continued, “You needn’t rush to refuse. My reasons for doing this go beyond avenging my husband. There’s another consideration.”  

“What consideration?” Song Qingshu asked awkwardly.  

Gebi parted her red lips, hesitating before whispering shyly, “I also wish to preserve a trace of Wogula’s bloodline.”  

Song Qingshu blinked in confusion. “But Brother Tang Kuo is already—”  

“Which is why I’m asking you.” Gebi was both embarrassed and exasperated. ‘This man is usually so sharp-witted—why is he being so dense now?’  

“Even if… even if you were to conceive, how would that child have anything to do with Brother Tang Kuo?” Song Qingshu felt his brain short-circuiting.  

Gebi looked up at him. “Do you remember what you promised me on the way to the Pucha residence?”  

Song Qingshu searched his memory, then suddenly recalled her request—that any child they had together must bear the Tang Kuo name. At the time, he had assumed his identity was still hidden and had agreed without much thought.  

“As long as the child carries the Tang Kuo name, no one will question their lineage. They will naturally be seen as Wogula’s descendants,” Gebi explained.  

Song Qingshu frowned. “You want ‘my’ son to take another man’s surname?” Over the years, he had been intimate with many women, but as a transmigrator caught in a turbulent era, he had subconsciously avoided fathering children. Each time, he refined his essence into Qi, ensuring most of his releases were “blank shots.” Of course, accidents happened—like that time with Huang Rong… In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t been thinking about refining anything.  

If Gebi were to conceive, this might very well be his first child. The idea made him reluctant.  

Gebi rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing. “I must remind you, young master, that I am another man’s wife. You get to enjoy boundless pleasures without any responsibility—where else would you find such a deal? And yet you won’t agree to this one small request?”  

“Ah…” Her words made him realize he was indeed being unreasonable—enjoying the benefits while pretending to take the high ground. “Fine. But you must promise me one thing in return. If, when the child grows up, they wish to reclaim their true lineage, you won’t stop them.”  

Gebi hesitated. By the time any child came of age, at least a decade or two would have passed—enough to satisfy societal expectations. And if necessary, they could always have grandchildren to continue the Tang Kuo line.  

“Very well!”  

Only then did Song Qingshu realize something was off. “Wait, how did we start discussing children? I wasn’t even planning to take advantage of you.”  

Gebi gave him a reproachful look. “Young master, I’ve already offered myself to this extent. Must you still make things difficult for me?”  

Song Qingshu studied her carefully. Gebi was breathtakingly beautiful, her snow-white mourning robes accentuating her flawless skin—it was hard to tell which was paler. With tear stains on her cheeks, she looked utterly pitiable. His heart softened, and he pulled her into his arms.  

“I don’t want to possess you through some transaction. It feels too much like exploitation.”  

Gebi sighed softly. “You weren’t nearly this principled that night.”  

“You dare tease me?” Flushing, Song Qingshu instinctively swatted her rounded backside. The crisp ‘smack’ left them both frozen in shock.  

“I… I should go.” Gebi suddenly felt flustered.  

Seeing the shy, hesitant beauty in her mourning attire, Song Qingshu’s heart stirred. He pulled her back. “Madam, you were so bold earlier—why retreat now?”  

“Young master…” Her voice trembled.  

“Call me ‘husband’,” he commanded.  

Gebi glared at him. “You’re not my husband. I won’t.”  

“But you were the one who suggested I continue impersonating him,” Song Qingshu teased.  

Gebi grew flustered. “When did I say that?”  

Leaning close, he whispered, “You asked me to father your child—a child who would bear the Tang Kuo name. But if ‘Tang Kuo Bian’ were to disappear now, and you turned up pregnant, wouldn’t everyone assume the child was illegitimate?”  

Gebi punched him lightly. “What kind of father calls his own child a b*stard?”  

“Does Madam also agree that I am the child’s father?” Song Qingshu’s heart also stirred with excitement.

Gebi’s red lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated. In the end, she nodded softly, “Mm.”

Song Qingshu laughed heartily, swept her up by the waist, and carried her toward the bed. Gebi turned pale with fright: “It’s already daylight.”

Glancing at the faintly brightening window, Song Qingshu replied carelessly, “It’s still early. There’s plenty of time.”

Gebi’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “B-but… I’m still wearing these mourning clothes. If the young master desires me, wait until I finish observing filial piety for Wugula… then… then I’ll give myself to you.”

Song Qingshu looked down at the beauty in his arms, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “It’s precisely because you’re wearing these clothes that it feels even better.”

Gebi froze for a moment before realizing his meaning. Flustered and ashamed, she protested, “How can you face your sworn brother like this?”

“You know very well that Brother Tang Kuo willingly gave you to me. Why would he mind now?” Song Qingshu raised his head and murmured solemnly, “Brother Tang Kuo, if your spirit watches over us, bear witness—from now on, I will cherish her, protect her, and never let her suffer harm. I will make her happier than ever before…”

Before he could finish, Gebi covered his mouth with her hand. “Enough, enough. Don’t mention him now.”

“But you were the one who brought him up,” Song Qingshu teased.

Gebi’s face flushed crimson as she buried it against his chest, refusing to look at him. 

Song Qingshu only laughed more delightedly, carrying her step by step toward the bed. 

This time, she offered no further resistance.

Gently laying her down, Song Qingshu was amused by her shy expression. “Madam, it’s not like we’ve never been intimate before. Why are you so bashful?”

“That night… you weren’t like this,” Gebi turned her face away, unable to meet his gaze.

“Which version does Madam prefer?” Song Qingshu leaned in, pressing light k!sses along her cheek before whispering in her ear.

“Of course… of course, my husband’s.” Feeling his scorching breath against her skin, Gebi tensed like a bride on her wedding night.

“But I am your husband now,” Song Qingshu murmured, his fingers trailing down her slender neck as he loosened the top of her robe, revealing a glimpse of snowy cleavage.

“You’re not…” Gebi breathed weakly.

“I am. From now on, I am your man, your husband.” With that, he captured her luscious lips in a searing k!ss.

Gebi let out a soft m0an, her body stiffening momentarily before melting against him, her breaths growing uneven. 

Song Qingshu k!ssed her deeply while his hands roamed freely, sending shivers down her spine.

“Don’t… not like this…” she murmured incoherently. 

Song Qingshu chuckled and lifted her skirt.

Gebi squeezed her thighs together shyly. “Take off these clothes… It feels strange.”

“Absolutely not!” He exhaled hotly against her ear. “A widow in mourning attire is the most alluring.”

“You’re truly a scoundrel!” Gebi struck his chest with a delicate fist, but her protest was cut short as Song Qingshu parted her legs and thrust his throbbing shaft inside.

“Mmm~” Her body clenched tightly. 

That night, believing him to be her husband, she hadn’t noticed—but now, knowing his true identity, she felt every inch of his overwhelming size.

“Between me and Brother Tang Kuo, who’s bigger?” Song Qingshu teased wickedly.

Gebi flushed and turned her face away, refusing to answer.

“Your silence says it all. That night, you admitted I felt stronger than usual.” He moved slowly, relishing the sight of her in snow-white mourning robes, her face a mix of shyness and reluctant pleasure.

“Stop tormenting me…Ngh~” Gebi suddenly sat up, wrapping her arms around him and biting his shoulder hard.

Song Qingshu laughed when he felt her wetness spill against him, driving into her with even greater abandon.

Pah! Pah! Pah!

“Mnn…Hmng~”

Dizzy from the relentless rhythm, Gebi never imagined she’d willingly surrender to a man other than her husband.

Seeing her mourning robes crumpled beneath her, guilt gnawed at her—yet knowing her husband had orchestrated this left her torn.

‘Forget it… Let this be for his lineage.’ She wrapped her legs around him, arching her hips to take him deeper, praying it would aid conception.

Time blurred. When she felt utterly spent, the man atop her finally reached his peak, filling her w0mb with scalding hot liquid. 

Pah! Pah! Pah!

“Hmph!”

“Nghhh…ahng~”

Exhausted but determined, Gebi tilted her hips to welcome every last drop shoot deeper inside…

*****

Meanwhile.

Wanyan Ping was stunned. Her imperial brother had killed his only son, Prince Wei! 

The Laundry Courtyard had launched a frantic investigation, keeping her busy all night. Seizing a rare moment of freedom, she slipped out of the palace—she had to warn her sister and brother-in-law before they unknowingly provoked the emperor’s wrath.

The servants of the Tang Kuo residence knew Wanyan Ping well. As the mistress’s younger sister and a frequent visitor, they treated her like family, letting her pass unchallenged.

Since that night in the ravine with her brother-in-law, guilt had made her avoid the couple, burying herself in work—until today’s crisis forced her to visit.

Entering the estate, she hesitated. With her sister and brother-in-law estranged, whom should she approach first? Deciding on her sister to avoid suspicion, she was dismayed to find her absent.

Steeling herself, she headed toward her brother-in-law’s quarters, heart fluttering. ‘Has he missed me? If he tries to pull me into his arms, should I refuse?’

Nearing his room, strange noises reached her ears. Now a woman of experience, she recognized them instantly.

Hearing her sister’s m0an, a pang of jealousy struck—they’ve reconciled.

Shame quickly followed. ‘Shouldn’t I be happy for them?’ The thought eased her heart.

She turned to leave, intending to wait in the hall—but curiosity gnawed at her. ‘How is my sister with him… compared to me?’

Despite their bond, the urge to compare proved irresistible. After a long internal struggle, she tiptoed to the window, vowing, ‘Just one look, then I’ll go.’

Trembling, she pierced a hole in the paper and peered inside. Her sister’s breathtaking beauty made her sigh—‘she’s always been lovelier than me.’

Then, her body turned to ice.

‘Who is that man on top of my sister?!’