Jinbao Marries a Wife

Jin Bao, all shiny and slippery, stood nervously in front of Que Siming.

When he came to pay his respects early in the morning, the first thing Que Siming asked was, “Did you take a bath last night?”

The boy, being honest, shook his head since he hadn’t bathed.

As a result, he was kicked into the pond with a comment from the doctor: “Come see me after you’ve bathed.”

Jin Bao could only climb out, go back, take a thorough bath, and then return to pay his respects.

The doctor, satisfied by the fresh scent, nodded and, lounging with his legs crossed and sipping fragrant tea, said to Jin Bao, “Let me explain the rules for serving me.”

“Yes, I’ll write them down,” Jin Bao said, pulling out paper and a pen, ready to take notes. He had poor memory and was careless. He had learned the ropes while serving his previous young master, but this was a new master, so he had to be extra careful.

This was actually a suggestion from Zhao Cai. Last night, he went to Zhao Cai for advice, avoiding the embarrassment of being caught out, and exaggerated the difficulty of serving Que Siming’s eccentricities. Zhao Cai had then given him many pointers.

In reality, Jin Bao was quite adept at serving people.

When he was at the Jin residence, he handled the young master’s daily needs. There were two reasons: first, to avoid having maidservants around the young master due to his lecherous nature, which made the madam worried about problems; second, Zhao Cai was lazy and never did anything he could avoid, so Jin Bao had to handle all the chores that fell within his responsibilities.

As long as he could remember Que Siming’s special requirements, he should be able to serve him well and avoid unnecessary trouble.

Que Siming glanced at him and said, “First, you must wash yourself clean every day. Change your clothes inside and out daily. You must not have any odor, and your hands must always be clean. If they get dirty, wash them immediately.”

As soon as the first rule was stated, Jin Bao’s face fell halfway.

Why is he so particular, like a woman? Even young ladies don’t bathe every day. Boiling water, pouring it, cleaning up—it takes at least an hour. It’s so troublesome, and unlike at the Jin residence, he has to do all these things himself here. At this rate, he wouldn’t have time to do anything else.

Unfortunately, he only dared to grumble inwardly and not speak out loud. He thought that the doctor couldn’t have a dog’s nose; if he only bathed every two or three days and had no odor, it probably wouldn’t be noticeable.

The doctor continued, “Second, you are not to touch anyone unless absolutely necessary. If you do, you must wash your hands immediately. Otherwise, you are not allowed to touch me.”

Jin Bao was fuming inside but nodded continuously on the surface.

“Third, you will wash the clothes I change out of every day. No one else is allowed to touch them. Su Yin has set up a separate kitchen for me. You will supervise the cooking and serve me the food. No one else is allowed to handle it. Everything I eat, wear, live with, and use must be completely clean, including you. Understood?”

Jin Bao kept nodding vigorously, not thinking too much about which of Que Siming’s needs he would fall under. He just pretended to take notes, actually writing only the words “Poor but Clean.”

“You will now live in the room next to mine and must be available at all times.”

“Yes.”

“Then go cook for me now.”

“Yes, what would the doctor like to eat? I will go right away.”

Que Siming handed him a piece of paper, “Follow the instructions on this.”

Jin Bao shoved the paper and pen into his bosom and dashed out without wanting to stay a moment longer.

He didn’t know why, but standing in front of Que Siming felt like being stared at by a wolf. He had a sense that the other might pounce on him at any moment, as if Que Siming was very displeased with him.

If he was dissatisfied, why not just dismiss him? Was this some kind of test for perseverance?

Jin Bao couldn’t understand. He wished he could switch places with Zhao Cai. Previously, he had complained about his young master’s constant trouble, but now he felt that dealing with Que Siming was far worse.

As expected, Young Master Su had specially arranged a kitchen for Que Siming, with all new pots, pans, and utensils, and even new cooks.

When Jin Bao entered the kitchen, he saw two cooks chatting.

It was still not mealtime, so the kitchen was relatively idle.

Jin Bao handed the paper to the cook assigned to Que Siming and then chatted with the other cook at the door. He disliked staying inside because of the grease and smoke.

The other cook, highly curious, started gossiping about Que Siming.

“Ah, you wouldn’t believe how picky this master is. Every night, three servants have to prepare bathwater for him. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“It can’t be too cold or too hot. The speed has to be just right. If he’s not satisfied with the water temperature, he makes them start over.”

Jin Bao grimaced, “I’m really unlucky. I’ve been assigned to serve him, and now he wants me to bathe every day too. How many men bathe daily? Isn’t that too much?”

“Exactly. You’re really unlucky, little brother. Look inside—do you know who’s there? A famous chef from Dali. When he was at Yixian Lou, a single dish could earn ten taels of silver. Since he’s been brought here, he’s been crying every day, saying he’s never met such a picky person. For example, the garlic in the stir-fry can’t be smashed; it has to be peeled and sliced into rounds.”

Jin Bao’s jaw nearly dropped, feeling his scalp tingle, “How can someone be like this? Isn’t there something wrong with him?”

“How could he not be sick to act like this? It’s simply insane!”

Jin Bao nodded vigorously in agreement, feeling that his future was in jeopardy. “He must be seriously ill. And look, wearing that eerie mask even in the middle of summer, and not taking it off at night—if you bump into him on a dark path, you’d be scared to death. I guess he must be horribly disfigured or something. Otherwise, why would he wear that thing?”

“Who knows? It’s all very mysterious.”

Jin Bao, still seeking advice, asked, “Brother, have you heard anything else about him—”

Just then, he noticed the cook’s face go pale as if seeing a ghost.

Jin Bao whipped around to see that Que Siming was standing under a tree nearby, smiling at them with his lips curved up.

Jin Bao was so frightened that he nearly collapsed. How could the doctor, with his skill, silently appear behind him without him noticing?

Seeing that something was wrong, the cook bolted and vanished in a flash.

Que Siming walked over to Jin Bao, who was so terrified he crouched on the ground, blinking up at him.

“I told you to supervise him cooking, and instead, you had time to chat. Did you enjoy your chat?”

Jin Bao’s face turned deathly pale. He didn’t know how long Que Siming had been behind him or how much he had heard. If he had overheard everything…

Que Siming immediately answered the question Jin Bao was too afraid to ask, “Am I insane? And seriously ill? Disfigured or ugly? Could I scare people at night?” Que Siming bent down, looking at the cowering Jin Bao from above, and elegantly revealed his white teeth in a smile. “It’s touching how concerned you are about me.”

Jin Bao fell to his knees, “Doctor, doctor, I know I was wrong. I was wrong, I was foolish. Please… punish me… even beating me is fine… Doctor, I truly know I was wrong.”

Que Siming straightened up. “It seems the food is ready. Bring it over.”

Jin Bao was stunned. Was this how it was going to be?

“Hurry up.”

Jin Bao quickly got up from the ground and served the fragrant dishes into Que Siming’s dining room.

Que Siming sat at the table, leisurely picking up his chopsticks and eating.

Jin Bao stood by his side, not daring to make a sound.

Soon, Que Siming finished eating but made no move to leave, continuing to sit and then pointing to the chair beside him. “Come over, it’s time for you to eat.”

Jin Bao was taken aback and somewhat flattered. “Uh, Doctor, I dare not.”

“Come here when I tell you to.”

Jin Bao had no choice but to sit beside him, awkwardly picking up his chopsticks.

There were still many dishes left on the table, and Que Siming had barely touched them.

The doctor warmly encouraged him, “Eat up, don’t waste any of this food.”

Normally, this would be seen as polite conversation, and Jin Bao initially thought so too. But he quickly realized how wrong he was.

As soon as he finished eating and planned to put down his chopsticks, the doctor stopped him. “You’re not done yet.”

“Doctor, I’m full.”

“Full? Did I tell you to be full? Keep eating.”

Jin Bao was stunned, wondering if it wasn’t up to him to decide whether he was full or not.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to keep eating.

When hungry, the food was delicious; when full, it became unbearable. His face had turned the color of the dishes, and his hand holding the chopsticks was shaking uncontrollably.

The doctor watched him with a smiling face. “Eat more, you’re not done yet. Aren’t you the one who loves meat the most?”

Jin Bao was too focused on trying to mentally digest the food to listen to what Que Siming said. His stomach was so full he couldn’t move.

With a pained expression, Jin Bao looked at Que Siming. “Doctor, please spare me. I really can’t eat anymore. It’s all the way up to my throat.”

Que Siming chuckled a couple of times, causing Jin Bao’s heart to race even more.

“Really can’t eat anymore?”

“Really can’t.”

“Do you understand now to be obedient?”

“Yes, I won’t dare again.”

“Mm.” The doctor nodded approvingly, then got up, took a small porcelain bottle from the cupboard, and poured out a pill for him. “Take this, it aids digestion.”

Jin Bao hesitated, looking at the pill that resembled rabbit droppings, unwilling to take it.

Que Siming’s smile almost faltered, prompting Jin Bao to quickly grab the pill and swallow it.

After swallowing, he slumped in his chair, groaning from being so full, only to realize that the ordeal wasn’t over. For the entire afternoon, he ran to the bathroom over and over again, his stomach churning with relentless diarrhea. His face turned pale, and his legs grew weak from the strain. He continued until nightfall, with nothing left to come out, finally giving him some relief. The bathroom felt like it was on fire. Jin Bao couldn’t even sit, only able to lie on his bed and exhale through his nose.

He regretted talking so much, realizing now that publicly discussing someone behind their back had its consequences.

He worried desperately about leaving any incriminating evidence for Que Siming to use against him, and it was only the first day.

The day had been exhausting, and not only was his body tired, but his mind was also drained. Just as his stomach had finally calmed down, he was about to doze off on the bed when the door was suddenly kicked open with a loud bang.

Startled awake, Jin Bao turned to see Que Siming, the tormentor, standing there.

Jin Bao nearly cried out, “Doctor, please spare me…”

Que Siming looked at him with a smirk, signaling behind him. “Come in, and be quick about it.”

Several servants quickly entered, setting up a bath tub and filling it with water.

“You haven’t bathed yet, have you? Didn’t I tell you this morning? Aren’t you afraid of smelling terrible?”

Jin Bao rolled his eyes. “Doctor, I’m exhausted. Can I wash tomorrow after a good rest?”

“No, do you know what happens when you don’t listen?”

Jin Bao mustered what little strength he had, slowly getting up with great effort.

Que Siming dismissed the servants and casually took a seat in a chair. “You have quite the attitude. Do you need me to assist you with undressing? Hurry up and take your clothes off.”

“I’m on it, but Doctor, you…”

Jin Bao gestured as if inviting Que Siming to make himself comfortable. Unfortunately, the doctor showed no sign of moving and added, “If I don’t watch you, you might end up chatting with the mosquitoes, right?”

Jin Bao had no retort, so he covered his rear and slowly shuffled to the back of the tub, mustering the courage to undress before quickly jumping into the tub.

Que Siming narrowed his eyes, watching the smooth shoulders of Jin Bao exposed above the water. It felt like a small, persistent itch in his mind.

Soaking in the hot water was indeed a pleasure, if not for the unsettling presence of someone staring intensely.

Jin Bao often wondered what such intelligent people were thinking. He couldn’t fathom what profound purpose could be behind watching someone bathe.

Being watched so closely felt unnervingly strange, especially from someone who had tormented him so thoroughly today. He doubted he’d ever forget it.

Deciding to shut his eyes and wipe his body with a towel, Jin Bao thought that if he could hide underwater, he would have stayed submerged until the end.

After a while, Que Siming suddenly spoke, “Are you curious about my mask?”

Jin Bao was startled and quickly opened his eyes, stammering, “No… I don’t dare…”

Que Siming smiled slightly. “I can show it to you.”

Jin Bao swallowed nervously, recalling past experiences, and shook his head. “I don’t dare… I’m not curious.”

“It’s nothing big. I can really show you,” Que Siming said, appearing quite sincere.

Jin Bao was somewhat tempted. He was indeed curious; everyone knew that Que Siming wore a mask, which had become his trademark. Many versions of speculation existed about why, but no one had ever seen his real face. It was one of the martial arts world’s mysteries. He was curious but had refrained due to Que Siming’s intimidating presence.

Jin Bao reasoned that if the doctor was offering to show him, it should be fine, and he hoped no further misfortune would come his way.

Que Siming stood up and moved closer, his slender fingers touching the mask.

Jin Bao grabbed the edge of the tub with both hands, lifting his chin and eagerly staring, waiting for the truth.

The pale mask began to peel away from his curly front hair.