BDSMST -Chapter 6 The Taste of Hunger — The Young Heir’s First Compromise

Gu Xuan was awakened by the aroma of food.

He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. His whole body felt limp, as if the bones had been pulled out of him. Slowly opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was the familiar hole in the roof, a shaft of sunlight pouring through it, a little too bright.

He moved his fingers and realized he was lying on the same pile of straw from the night before. Draped over him was a clean outer robe carrying a faint scent of soapberry… wasn’t that the wicked woman’s?

He jerked upright. The sudden motion made his head spin so badly he nearly collapsed again.

Inside the house, Chunxing was crouched by the brazier, cooking something in a broken clay pot. The tempting fragrance wafted from it.

It was a smell he had never encountered before—a blend of wild greens and the mellow scent of grain. It wasn’t rich or heavy, but like a gentle hand scratching at his hollow stomach, waking the starving beast inside him and making it roar wildly once more.

“You’re awake?” Chunxing turned when she heard him move, worry evident on her face. “How do you feel? Do you want some water?”

Gu Xuan didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to the clay pot. His throat felt dry as sandpaper as he swallowed hard. His voice came out hoarse: “…What are you cooking?”

“Wild greens Madam just dug up… and a little bit of the broken rice we brought,” Chunxing said softly. “Madam said if you don’t eat, your body won’t hold up, so she told me to make you some porridge.”

Madam said?

That wicked woman had finally given in?

A flicker of smug satisfaction rose in Gu Xuan’s chest. He knew it—she wouldn’t dare truly starve him. He was the heir of the Marquisate, after all!

Clearing his throat, he resumed his lofty posture, lifting his chin. “Hmph. Good that she knows better. Hurry and serve me a bowl! Add more sugar. I don’t like bland food!”

Chunxing looked troubled. “Young Lord… we… we don’t have sugar.”

“No sugar?” Gu Xuan frowned immediately. “Then what about meat floss? Don’t tell me you don’t have that either? How am I supposed to eat something this plain?”

Chunxing lowered her head further. “We… don’t have any.”

Gu Xuan’s expression darkened at once. He stared at the watery, flavorless-looking wild vegetable porridge. The small spark of triumph inside him vanished instantly. This wasn’t yielding—it was charity!

Just then, Jiang Suisui’s voice came from the doorway.

“Awake?”

She stood against the light, holding a hoe still smeared with mud. The sunlight outlined her figure, making her look less like a marquisate’s lady and more like a farmer long accustomed to the fields. Yet the cool composure about her set her apart entirely.

She walked in, leaned the hoe against the wall, glanced at Gu Xuan, then at the pot of porridge. “Since you’re awake, get up and eat.”

Gu Xuan stiffened his neck and snorted. “I’m not eating that.”

“Oh?” Jiang Suisui raised a brow, unsurprised. “What would you like instead? Eight-treasure duck? Crystal pork trotter? Sorry, we don’t have those here. Or perhaps you’d like to continue your hunger strike? That’s fine too. No one’s stopping you.”

With that, she took a chipped bowl from Chunxing, ladled herself half a bowl of porridge, and sat at the broken table, drinking it leisurely.

She sipped slowly, her posture graceful, as though she were tasting nectar rather than plain wild vegetable porridge.

Grrr…

Gu Xuan’s stomach growled loudly at the worst possible moment. The sound echoed clearly in the quiet room. His face flushed bright red.

Jiang Suisui acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing and continued drinking her porridge.

Chunxing grew anxious watching him. Holding a bowl of porridge, she stepped closer and coaxed gently, “Young Lord, please eat a little. It’s fragrant—I’ve tasted it myself.”

Fragrant?

Gu Xuan stared stubbornly at the thin porridge in the bowl. Green leaves of wild vegetables floated on the cloudy rice broth. It looked as plain and shabby as could be. His dignity, his pride, screamed at him not to eat. If he did, wouldn’t that mean admitting defeat to that wicked woman?

But his body was crying out even louder. The aroma seeped into his nose, invaded his senses, and drove him nearly mad.

He shut his eyes, yet images of roasted taro and wild vegetable porridge filled his mind. He tried to recall the delicacies he had eaten at the Marquisate, but those flavors had turned vague and distant. Only this humble fragrance, so close at hand, felt vividly real.

Hungry…

So hungry…

If he didn’t eat, he really might die…

If he died, he would never see Father again. He would never return to the Marquisate. He would never… never eat again.

After a fierce battle within himself, Gu Xuan suddenly opened his eyes. Instead of taking the bowl from Chunxing, he lunged with surprising speed toward the hard corn bun he had thrown into the corner the night before.

It had lain on the ground for a full day and night, coated in dust, even harder and drier than before.

Yet Gu Xuan seized it as if it were priceless treasure. Without caring about the dirt, he stuffed it straight into his mouth and bit down fiercely.

The bun was cold and tough, grating against his teeth. Its coarse texture scraped his tongue and throat, difficult to swallow.

But when that rough, unpalatable mouthful finally slid into his hollow stomach, it brought an indescribable sense of solidity.

Tears fell from Gu Xuan’s eyes without warning.

Crying, he wolfed down the filthy bun, choking as he ate too fast. His eyes rolled back as he thumped his chest desperately.

Chunxing panicked. She hurriedly thrust the bowl toward him. “Young Lord, slow down! Have some porridge! Drink to wash it down!”

Gu Xuan snatched the bowl and gulped it greedily, heedless of the heat. The warm rice porridge slid down his dry throat into his tormented stomach. Warmth spread instantly through his limbs.

He felt alive again.

The bowl was empty in no time. He even licked the rim, reluctant to waste a drop.

Throughout it all, Jiang Suisui watched quietly, her face expressionless. No ridicule, no pity, no smug “I told you so.”

Only after he finished did she stand, walk over, take the empty bowl from his hands, and ladle him another half bowl.

“Eat,” she said calmly, setting it before him. “You’ll need strength if you plan to keep opposing me.”

Gu Xuan looked at the second bowl of porridge, then at the woman who had already turned away to tidy the farming tools. His emotions were tangled beyond words. He had lost—utterly and completely.

Yet when he lifted the bowl again and inhaled the faint scent of rice, he felt that this simple porridge tasted better than anything he had ever eaten before.

For the first time in his life, he had truly understood hunger.

And for the first time, toward that wicked woman, he felt something other than hatred—something complicated and hard to name.

Lowering his head, he sipped the porridge slowly this time. Not wolfing it down, but savoring it with almost reverent care.

He knew that from the moment he picked up that corn bun, something had already changed.