Yan Yihuan had always thought that Shen Zhaoquan, despite being a high-ranking figure in the palace, was a kind and amiable man. After just a few encounters, he couldn’t help but have a favorable impression of him.
But just now, while to outsiders it might have seemed like a polite invitation to depart, only Yan Yihuan himself could feel the underlying compulsion in it.
With a sullen expression, he was practically herded out the door. Seeing several carriages parked outside the second gate, he quickly made up his mind in the span of a few steps. No matter which one he was going to ride in, he absolutely would not share a ride with the Emperor. Yet, how could Shen Zhaoquan not anticipate what he was thinking?
Shen Zhaoquan only had to give a single glance, and several attending eunuchs surrounded him. Without laying a single finger on him, they effortlessly steered the reluctant Yan Yihuan towards the imperial carriage, before he was pulled inside the carriage.
They were all in on it!
The moment he was pulled in, he was still fuming in silence, already thinking about how he was going to question him. But as soon as the curtain of the carriage was lowered, plunging the interior into sudden darkness, Li Xuanming pulled the unprepared Yan Yihuan straight into his arms, and a suffocating, deep kiss followed without pause.
Even Li Xuanming himself was taken aback by the depth of his own desire.
From the day Yan Yihuan was kidnapped during the Qiyuan Festival to this moment, barely two months had passed. It cannot be considered a very long time.
This appointment of the Grand Historian had met with fierce opposition from Grand Chancellor Cui Yan, but Li Xuanming still insisted on summoning him back, even sending Ming Zhang to deliver the edict in person.
Li Xuanming was not unaware that his current position was far from as stable as it appeared on the surface. After all, no one could have predicted that the late emperor, who was still in his prime, would choke to death on a mere jujube pit.
During that night of chaos and panic, it had been the Chief Eunuch at the time who was attending the late emperor. In his panic, he rushed off to fetch the imperial physician. At that moment, Shen Zhaoquan, who was also on duty in the inner chambers, quickly sent a messenger to the Eastern Palace, notifying him just as he was about to retire for the night.
Then, he immediately sealed off the emperor’s chambers and sent Han Zhen to forcefully leave the palace and bring Grand Chancellor Cui Yan, who had always supported him, into the palace to maintain control. In a single night, the empire had quietly changed hands without a sound. The suddenness not only caught Li Xuanming himself off guard, but also disrupted the plans of all those who coveted the throne, making them itch to act, their ambition barely restrained.
But he was no longer willing nor able to wait. A year ago, in the Residence of King Yan, he had personally overheard King Yan discussing plans with his eldest son about arranging a marriage for Yan Yihuan as soon as possible. Li Xuanming knew that if he hesitated any longer, Yan Yihuan would never be his.
The turmoil in his heart made the kiss grow fiercer. The man beneath him began to struggle, but the more he resisted, the deeper Li Xuanming plundered.
Yan Yihuan had never imagined that he would dare to do such a thing in broad daylight while surrounded by many ceremonial guards[mfn]仪仗 (Yízhàng)
[/mfn]. The thought that the imperial carriage hadn’t even left the gates of Hanlin Academy yet, filled him with so much shame and fury that he struggled even harder.
The imperial carriage was spacious enough for a person to lie flat. Yan Yihuan had been seated in Li Xuanming’s lap, but when he kept resisting, Li Xuanming simply flipped him over and pinned him down onto the cushioned seat. Yan Yihuan’s official cap tumbled from his head, rolling aside with a soft clatter. The nape of his neck was seized in a firm grip, pinning him utterly still.
His neatly coiled hair was now a disheveled mess, glossy black strands spilling loose. One of his clenched fists was held down firmly by his wrist and pressed above him. The hand restraining him had gone white at the knuckles. Between lips and teeth, only muffled whimpers could be heard.
From head to toe, only one of his legs could still move freely. As the sense of suffocation began to build, Yan Yihuan couldn’t help but kick out wildly. A low table in the carriage was knocked askew, causing the teacup on top of it to roll in a circle before falling to the floor with a dull clatter.
The cup didn’t break, but it rolled to the front of the carriage and hit the floorboard with a thud, the sound clearly audible.
Shen Zhaoquan, who was sitting outside the carriage and resting with his eyes closed, slowly opened his eyes. He looked back slightly, then suddenly lifted his hand and ordered,
“The weather’s quite fine today. No need to rush back to the palace. Go slower.”
The sound of the wheels noticeably slowed. Li Xuanming lifted his eyelids and finally let go of Yan Yihuan, whose cheeks were now flushed red. The moment he felt the pressure ease, Yan Yihuan rolled over and clung to the edge of the soft couch, lips parted and gasping for breath, his vision still slightly dark.
Although the pressure had eased, he remained pinned beneath him. A thumb brushed the corner of his lips, sliding down along his jaw to his neck, rubbing lightly over the pulsing vein that throbbed with his racing heartbeat.
“It’s only been a short while since we last met, yet you’ve already forgotten how[mfn]t/n: I think he means forgotten how to kiss[/mfn]?”
Yan Yihuan had just barely caught his breath when he heard that and immediately glared at him. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to confront him for deceiving him, and now he was being teased like this?
But the moment his gaze landed on the dragon embroidery glaring back at him, Yan Yihuan suddenly remembered that the person before him was no longer Zhao Chufeng whom he could scold at will, but one robed in imperial dragon robes, the sovereign of heaven and earth, the reigning Emperor, Li Xuanming.
The shift in Yan Yihuan’s expression didn’t escape Li Xuanming’s notice. He couldn’t help but let out a low laugh and leaned down again. Yan Yihuan’s hands subconsciously pushed against the approaching chest, but the moment his palm touched the dragon’s head embroidered on the robe, a jolt ran through his heart. He hesitated, then timidly curled his fingers back.
“Don’t…”
He dared not speak, dared not scold, much less raise a hand at him. Yan Yihuan held it in for a long time, only daring to tentatively utter a single word. But in the next second, his body stiffened. He clearly felt something hard press against him.
“You-you-you… Get off me!”
Yan Yihuan was so startled that his tongue twisted, and he no longer cared whether the man before him was Li Xuanming or Zhao Chufeng. He propped himself up forcefully, “We are in a carriage, as the emperor, you shouldn’t be this… this…”
He didn’t dare utter the word “lecherous”. Taking advantage of the moment when Li Xuanming loosened his grip slightly, he wriggled himself halfway out from under him,
“Besides, I’m still wearing my official robes. You are also… how improper this is.”
“Official robes?” Li Xuanming looked him up and down. The outfit indeed dulled some of his usual casual air, adding instead a hint of restraint that made Li Xuanming’s heart itch, “If you think it’s inappropriate to wear the official robe, then Zhen will help you take them off, alright?”
“No!”
With a deft tug of those long fingers, the front of his robe slipped loose and hung limply. Just as Yan Yihuan scrambled to cover the drooping hem, the ties of his inner garment were easily undone as well.
In his fluster, he failed to cover anything properly. One shoulder slipped free, and the cold air made him shiver instinctively.
Even the most formal official robes, when half-draped over the body like this, no longer looked proper. Li Xuanming lowered his head and breathed in deeply at the crook of Yan Yihuan’s neck, instantly feeling the tension ripple through the body in his arms.
“You’ve been applying that ointment every day, right?” The skin beneath his palm was smooth and soft. After these past few days of good food and care, the effect was showing. “You’re no longer as thin and pale as the day I saw you outside the capital.”
“So that day…?” Yan Yihuan’s heart sank. He cursed himself for being a fool. No wonder when he asked Song Qingyan if he had any lotion applied after bathing, the man stammered and changed the subject. It turned out everyone had known something was off, but no one was willing to tell him.
“Your Majesty is the supreme ruler of all under heaven. It is inappropriate to indulge in such carnal pleasures in broad daylight. Moreover, there are many attendants and guards outside this imperial carriage, probably amounting to a hundred people. If anyone were to hear something, it would tarnish Your Majesty’s… hiss!”
A sudden faint itch and sting at his chest made Yan Yihuan draw in a sharp breath. Li Xuanming pinched and twisted it with the tip of his finger, deliberately interrupting Yan Yihuan’s attempt to stall with chatter,
“It seems that your days in Hanlin Academy weren’t spent in vain, but Zhen will remind you that the imperial carriage is about to pass through a main street, there will soon be more than just palace attendants and guards outside.” As he spoke, Li Xuanming let go of him and gave him a signal with his eyes. Yan Yihuan moved to the window and quietly lifted a corner of the curtain. A wine shop came into view, its owner and staff were all kneeling outside the door. He could even clearly see a tear in a staff’s headscarf.
Yan Yihuan quickly let go of the curtain, and his face flushed bright red. At the same time, he felt something around his ankle, then he was suddenly pulled backwards and fell face-down onto the soft cushion. The cry that almost escaped his lips was hastily muffled by his own hand.
“That’s right, good boy.” Li Xuanming leaned down and whispered in Yan Yihuan’s ear, “Everyone saw you get onto the imperial carriage, so no matter how good you feel, you can’t make a sound.”
Yan Yihuan’s scalp tensed, and he let out a soft moan, unintentionally revealing that faint thread of anticipation buried deep in his heart. As it turned out, no matter how reluctant he was, he still longed for that soul-devouring sensation that only came from being in Li Xuanming’s hands, and his whole body went limp.
As Yan Yihuan let out soft, breathy hums with each movement, he suddenly heard a faint, crisp jingling sound. He didn’t pay it much attention at first, until the next moment, when something warm and wet pressed against his lips, rubbing back and forth.
Yan Yihuan furrowed his brows and reluctantly cracked one eye open, then immediately froze in shock. His body jolted upright, only to be forcefully pinned back down. The hand that had been moving so leisurely just moments ago suddenly picked up speed. At that point, Yan Yihuan couldn’t spare a thought for anything else. All he could do was clamp his hand tightly over his mouth, eyes wide with fear as he stared at the all-too-familiar object in Li Xuanming’s hand.
It was a jade lotus root carved from warm jade. At some point[mfn]At some point (of time): This implies that it’s the same lotus root from earlier in the story.[/mfn], a small hole had been made at its base, through which hung an apricot-yellow silk tassel. A silver bell was attached too, trembling softly and letting out a series of crisp, delicate chimes.
The author has something to say:
Yihuan: I’m furious, I’m resentful, I’m scared, but… but it feels so good…
