Chapter 23 | Weight of Victory
Victory, Xu Tianlong discovered, was almost as exhausting as war.
The morning after Feng Lianzhu broke her fast, he found himself seated at the main hall table, surrounded by enough paperwork to bury a lesser man. Ledgers. Inventories. Surrender documents. Petitions from merchants whose storefronts had been damaged in the fighting. A formal complaint from the City Lord’s office requesting a detailed account of the battle casualties, damages, prisoners taken. The bureaucracy of conquest was relentless.
He set down his brush and leaned back.
"Yueyao."
She looked up. "Hm?"
"Come here."
Something flickered in her dark amber eyes. Not surprise exactly. More like recognition of a tone she had come to know. She placed her brush carefully beside the inkstone and rose from her seat. The hem of her blue tunic brushed the floor as she crossed the room.
When she reached his side, he turned his chair slightly and parted his knees.
"Kneel."
"We will do it...here?...now?"
"why not, no one is here."
"hmm...yes my husband"
Her breath caught. For a moment she simply stood there, her eyes searching his face. Then she lowered herself to the floor between his legs. The fabric of her tunic pooled around her knees. She looked up at him, waiting.
"Open my trousers."
Her fingers were steady as she reached for the ties of his pants. The cloth fell away, and his cock was already hard, thick and heavy, the head flushed and slick at the tip. She stared at it for a long moment, her lips parting slightly.
"Suck," he said.
She leaned forward. Her hand wrapped around the base first, warm and soft, and he felt the pulse in his shaft against her palm. Then her mouth took him.
Slurp.
The wet sound filled the quiet hall. Her tongue flattened along the underside as she drew him deep, and the heat of her mouth made his thighs tense. She worked him slowly at first, her lips stretched around his girth, her head bobbing in a rhythm that was both eager and controlled.
"Ngh..."
The vibration of her moan traveled up his length. He reached down and threaded his fingers through her hair, just holding. She took him deeper, until the head pressed against the back of her throat, and then she relaxed and took him further.
Gulk.
She swallowed around him, the muscles of her throat working, and he let out a low hiss through his teeth. His other hand gripped the arm of the chair.
"That’s it. Take all of it."
Her eyes, wet and dark, looked up at him as she held him in her throat. Then she pulled back, gasping, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to the head of his cock.
"Mmh...Tianlong"
"Again."
She obeyed. Her mouth returned, and this time she set a faster pace. Her hand pumped the base while her lips worked the upper half, her tongue licking every vein. The wet sounds grew louder, more obscene in the quiet hall.
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
His control was fraying. He could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, the tightening in his balls. He pulled her hair a little harder.
"Yueyao..I’m going to come. Swallow it all."
"Yes.. Mmm.. Yes.. "
She moaned around him, the sound vibrating along his cock. Her hand tightened, and she took him as deep as she could, her nose nearly touching his abdomen.
The climax hit him hard. His cock pulsed, and hot cum spurted into her mouth in thick, heavy bursts. She swallowed, her throat working as she drank him down.
Gulp. Gulp.
He held her there until the last pulse faded, then released his grip on her hair. She pulled back slowly, her lips red and swollen, a smear of white at the corner of her mouth.
"Show me"
He watched as she licked it away with the tip of her tongue.
"Good girl."
A flush spread across her cheeks. She stayed on her knees, her chest rising and falling, waiting.
"Stand up," he said.
She rose, a little unsteady. He reached out and took her hand, guiding her onto his lap. She straddled him, facing him, her knees pressing into the chair on either side of his hips. Her skirt bunched around her thighs.
"Lift your dress," he said. "Push your underwear aside."
She gathered the fabric of her tunic in one hand, lifting it to her waist. With the other, she hooked her fingers into the thin strip of cloth that covered her pussy and pulled it to the side. The scent of her arousal filled the space between them. She was already wet, her pussy glistening in the dim light.
He guided his cock to her entrance and pressed the head against her. Her breath hitched.
"Put it in," he said.
She lowered herself slowly, her pussy swallowing him inch by inch. He watched her face as she took him, her eyes fluttering closed, her mouth falling open.
"Ahh... Tianlong..."
"So tight," he breathed. "Fuck..Paradise..My wife pussy is so fucking tight."
"Ahh.. Mmm.. Yours"
She sank down until he was buried to the hilt, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of her, womb, She was warm and wet and impossibly tight, and he could feel every clench of her inner walls around him.
"Move," he said.
She began to rise and fall, her hips rolling in a slow. Each downward stroke made her gasp, and each upward pull made him groan. He gripped her plump ass with both hands, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The sound of her ass meeting his thighs echoed in the hall. He lifted her slightly, then pulled her down harder, driving deeper.
"Faster."
She obeyed, her movements becoming more frantic. Her breasts bounced beneath her tunic with every rise and fall, and he reached up with one hand to pull the fabric aside. Her nipples were already hard, pink and stiff against the pale skin of her breasts.
He lowered his mouth to one nipple and sucked.
Slurp.
"Ahhn!..Tianlong!"
His tongue circled the tight peak while his other hand worked her ass, guiding her movements. He bit down gently, and she cried out, her pussy clenching around him.
"Keep going," he murmured against her skin. "Ride me harder."
She did. Her pace increased, her hips slamming down onto him with desperate urgency. The head of his cock struck her deepest point over and over, battering against her womb with every thrust.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
His hand came down on her ass with a sharp smack.
Slap.
"Ahh!...Yes!"
He slapped the other cheek, watching the flesh jiggle, watching her eyes go wide with pleasure and pain.
Slap.
"More... please, more...Tianlong"
He gave her more. He lifted her higher, then yanked her down, driving his cock into her pussy with enough force to make the chair creak. She was losing control, her movements becoming erratic, her moans rising in pitch.
"I’m close," she gasped. "Tianlong, I’m so close..."
"Come for me," he said. "Come..Suck my cock."
She shattered. Her body convulsed around him, her pussy clenching as her orgasm ripped through her. A gush of hot fluid sprayed from her pussy, soaking his lap and thighs.
Squirt.. Squirt..Spurtt!!
She screamed his name, her nails digging into his shoulders, her entire body trembling.
The sensation of her release, combined with the tight grip of her pussy, pushed him over the edge. His climax erupted, and he buried himself to the hilt as his hot white semen flooded her womb.
"Ngh... inside... I can feel it...so hot"
He held her close, pumping every last drop into her. She collapsed against his chest, her breath ragged, her body limp with satisfaction.
For a long while, they stayed like that, joined together, her head resting on his shoulder. The silence of the hall returned, broken only by their breathing.
Finally, she stirred. "We should... we should get back to work."
"In a minute."
She laughed softly, the sound muffled against his neck. "The City Lord will be waiting."
"The City Lord can wait a little longer."
She lifted her head and looked at him. There was a new softness in her eyes, a quiet contentment that hadn’t been there before. "You’re impossible."
"And you’re still sitting on my cock."
Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lower lip. "I noticed."
He kissed her lips and helped her off his lap, and they both adjusted their clothing. Lin’s underwear was soaked, and his trousers were damp, but neither of them bothered to change. There was work to be done, and time was precious.
They returned to the table.
Lin sat across from him, her pussy still feel sensitive, her dark hair pulled back in a severe knot, a brush in her hand
"The Feng treasury is worse than we thought," she said, not looking up from the ledger. "They were operating at a deficit for at least a year before the war started. The Pavilion’s money kept them afloat, but it came with conditions. Loan agreements. Resource pledges. They were bleeding out long before we struck the final blow."
"How bad?"
"If we liquidate everything, the mines, the storehouses, the remaining assets we can cover about 60 percent of what they owed. The rest is gone. Bad investments. Corruption. Zhao was a terrible steward of his own clan’s wealth."
Xu set down the report he’d been reading. "Then we don’t liquidate. We rebuild."
Lin looked up. "Rebuild? We just finished destroying them."
"We destroyed their army. We destroyed their leadership. The clan itself is still intact, what was left of it, anyway. If we seize their assets and throw their people into the streets, we create a power vacuum. And power vacuums attract exactly the kind of people we’re trying to fight." He tapped the stack of Pavilion documents Lin had been sorting. "The Black Moon Pavilion would love nothing more than a destabilized city full of desperate, homeless Feng remnants. Easy recruits. Easy pawns."
"So you want to absorb them."
"I want to integrate them. The Feng clan owes us a debt. They can repay it through labor. Through loyalty. Through becoming part of something larger than themselves." He leaned back. "I’m not going to be the young master of a minor clan forever. If I’m going to build something that lasts, I need people. Skilled people. People who have a reason to be grateful."
Lin studied him for a long moment. "You’ve been thinking about this since before the war ended."
"I’ve been thinking about it since I woke up in this body."
Clack.
The brush made a soft sound as she set it down. "The City Lord will want a say in how the Feng assets are distributed. He’ll argue that since the war was fought within his jurisdiction, he has a claim."
"Let him argue. He didn’t fight. He didn’t bleed. He sat in his manor and waited to see who won." Xu picked up a fresh sheet of paper. "Draft a proposal. Offer the City Lord 10 percent of the Feng clan’s liquid assets as a gesture of goodwill. Frame it as a gift, not a concession. If he pushes for more, remind him that the Xu clan just saved his city from a proxy war orchestrated by a secret organization he failed to detect."
"You’re going to blackmail the City Lord."
"I’m going to negotiate with the City Lord."
Lin’s lips curved. It was not quite a smile, but close. "You’re learning."
"This is me."
The morning wore on. Qing’er appeared with a tray of tea and rice cakes, her round face still flushed from the kitchen heat. She’d been brewing medicines for the wounded since before sunrise, her small hands steady despite the long hours. The green glow of her Life Sap had faded, but its effects lingered in the soldiers who were already walking when they should have been bedridden.
"The wounded are stable," she reported, setting the tray down. "Three more guards are back on their feet. The ones with deeper injuries will need another day, maybe two. I’ve been using the yarrow paste you showed me." She hesitated. "Young Master, there’s something else."
"What is it?"
"The supplies are running low. Not just medicine. Everything. Bandages, clean water, food. The granary fire destroyed most of the Feng reserves, and our own stores were depleted during the siege. If we’re going to feed both clans through the winter..."
"I know." Xu had already seen the numbers. "We’ll need to purchase grain from the neighboring towns. Send word to the merchants who fled during the fighting. Offer them tax incentives to return."
"Tax incentives?" Lin raised an eyebrow. "You’re going to reduce taxes?"
"Temporarily. A 6-month exemption for any merchant who reopens their shop before the end of the month. After that, standard rates. The city needs commerce more than it needs revenue right now."
Qing’er jotted a note on a scrap of paper. "I’ll tell the quartermaster."
The afternoon passed in a blur of logistics and negotiations. Xu met with the remaining Feng elders, offering them a choice: swear fealty to the Xu clan or leave Thousand Pines by week’s end. Most chose to stay. He met with the guild representatives, promising stability and protection in exchange for their cooperation. He met with his own guards, promoting those who had distinguished themselves in battle and pensioning those who were too wounded to continue.
By sunset, his hand ached from signing documents and his eyes burned from reading fine print. But the framework was in place. The city was no longer a battlefield. It was a project. And projects, unlike wars, required patience.
He was reviewing the final draft of the City Lord proposal when Lin found him in the main hall.
"There’s something you need to see," she said. Her voice was tight. Controlled. The voice she used when something was wrong.
He looked up. "What?"
"One of the guards found tracks near the eastern wall. Fresh. Someone’s been watching the compound. Specifically, someone’s been watching the wing where Feng Lianzhu is staying."
Xu set the proposal down. "When?"
"Within the last hour. The guard reported it to me directly. I checked the tracks myself, soft-soled boots, professional grade. Not a soldier. An operative."
Crunch.
The wooden chair groaned as he stood. "Show me."
The tracks were barely visible in the fading light. Lin pointed them out with the tip of her boot, shallow impressions in the soft earth near the compound wall, leading to a spot where the stone had been disturbed. Someone had climbed over.
"A scout," Xu said. "Not one of ours."
"The Pavilion?"
"Has to be. The Feng clan is broken. No one else has a reason to spy on us." He studied the tracks. "They were heading toward Feng Lianzhu’s room. If the guard hadn’t spotted them..."
"They’d have killed her."
"They’d have tried." Xu straightened. "Post extra guards around her wing. Rotate them every 4 hours. No one gets near her without my direct authorization."
"And the scout?"
"He’s still out there." Xu looked toward the darkening sky. The sun had slipped below the compound walls, painting the clouds in shades of blood and fire. "Which means the Pavilion knows she’s here. They know she’s talking to us. And they’re scared of what she might say."
Lin’s hand drifted toward the hilt of her sword. "Let them come."
’That’s my wife.’
"Not yet." He turned back toward the compound. "First, I want to know what else Feng Lianzhu knows. She gave us fragments yesterday. Grief and guilt. But there’s more. There has to be."
"You think she’s still hiding something?"
"I think she’s still processing. She’s been a prisoner in her own clan for years, watching everything, saying nothing. That kind of silence builds walls. Walls take time to break." He paused at the door. "But a near-death experience tends to speed things up."
Lin’s expression flickered. "You want to use the assassination attempt."
"I want to let her know it happened. Let her draw her own conclusions about who sent the killer and why." He looked at the darkening sky one last time. "Sometimes the most effective interrogation is the one where you don’t ask any questions."