AYM Chapter 34

While still frozen in shock, he was suddenly picked up sideways. Yan Yihuan let out a startled Ah! and started trembling,

 

“Your Majesty, I… no, this humble one really cannot continue anymore, it hurts, it really still hurts!”

 

“So disobedient.” Li Xuanming placed him down on the bed. When he lifted his gaze, he was met with Yan Yihuan’s slightly panicked eyes.,“Then tell me, where does it still hurt?”

 

“My waist, my waist hurts!” Yan Yihuan lowered his head and shifted his body slightly away. He didn’t dare admit that that place still throbbed faintly.

 

Suddenly, a pair of hands gripped both sides of his waist. The familiar, terrifying sensation made Yan Yihuan stiffen. Just as he was about to wriggle free, those hands found the sorest spot on his lower back and began kneading it, firm but not forceful, just enough to ease the ache in an instant.

 

It felt very comfortable, but it was also very improper.

 

On one hand, Yan Yihuan was so comfortable he didn’t want to move, but on the other hand, he felt it was improper as the one massaging him was, after all, the emperor himself. He tried to move away a few times but failed, so he finally just gave up entirely and simply laid down to enjoy it.

 

Probably because he hadn’t slept well last night, he let out a few soft hums in response to the pressure of the hands from time to time, and his previously tense body gradually relaxed, his eyes grew so heavy he could barely keep them open. 

 

“A… a bit more to the side, yeah, right there…” Yan Yihuan mumbled softly, then seemed to suddenly remember who was massaging him and quickly added,

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

 

Li Xuanming found it rather amusing. Just a moment ago, Yan Yihuan had been scared out of his wits, but now after tasting a bit of comfort, he was already getting greedy for more. Yesterday, Li Xuanming had indeed worried he might overthink things, so he simply hadn’t given him the chance to.

 

But looking at Yan Yihuan, who was already drowsy and half-asleep, Li Xuanming felt that he had worried too much. This clearly wasn’t someone prone to overthinking.

 

As he kneaded Yan Yihuan’s waist, his gaze drifted down from the young man’s face. The fabric of his robe was no ordinary material, although it looked thin and light, it was warm and soft to the touch, and it draped closely to the body, outlining every curve of the figure lying face down.

 

His waist was taut and lean, as if all the flesh had gathered there. Li Xuanming recalled seeing it earlier that morning while Yan Yihuan was still fast asleep, it had indeed been a little red and swollen.

 

He reached out to the small side table by the bed and picked up a bottle with one hand, while the other lifted the hem of Yan Yihuan’s robe.

 

Yan Yihuan, whose head was already heavy and about to drift into sleep, vaguely felt something was off, the hand seemed to be moving lower and lower.

 

Avoiding it was almost instinctive, but that instinct was quickly overridden as the hand that had just been gently kneading him suddenly pressed down with force. Yan Yihuan tried to get up, but was held firmly in place. 

 

“Don’t move.”

 

The familiar scent of medicinal herbs slowly and lightly drifted into his nose. Yan Yihuan knew exactly what was about to happen. He had been unconscious during all the previous times, but this time, he was fully awake. 

 

If it were Zhao Chufeng, Yan Yihuan would’ve flipped over and put up a fight without hesitation. But the one pressing down on him now was the current emperor. He bit down hard on his lower lip, clutched the bedding beneath him tightly, and endured every inch of the ointment being applied with complete clarity. With each motion, an occasional muffled groan escaped him.

 

“That…that should be enough…”

 

Yan Yihuan asked softly. It had already been quite some time, so why wasn’t he done yet, “Any more and I’ll start to hurt.”

 

“Hmm?” Li Xuanming looked up and saw Yan Yihuan had turned his head to him, eyes brimming with moisture, part cautious, part ashamed, and part deliberately ingratiating as he stared at him with a pleading expression.

 

Why does he[mfn]Referring to Yan Yihuan[/mfn] still not understand that a gaze like that would do nothing but awaken his own[mfn]Referring to Li Xuanming. This sentence is kinda in Li Xuanming’s POV, but it’s not an inner thought. (if you get what I mean😅)[/mfn] desire?

 

“Where does it hurt, here?”

 

“Ah, you…”

 

The deliberate movement made anger rise in Yan Yihuan’s chest. What emperor, what Son of Heaven, this guy is just that scoundrel who used to call himself Zhao Chufeng!

 

“I don’t need any more medicine.” Yan Yihuan struggled to get up, but the moment he lifted his waist, he was caught around the middle and lifted effortlessly, making it seem as if he were willingly yielding.

 

The hand was no longer as gentle as before. A flash of lightning struck through Yan Yihuan’s mind, and the nearly maddening sensation from last night surged back. His eyes snapped wide open, and his lips, already flushed and full, instantly parted.

 

Since the carriage ride yesterday until he had slipped into a drowsy sleep without knowing when, Yan Yihuan had lost count of how many times they had done it. His body had become so sensitive that he could barely control himself, until in the end, nothing came out anymore but tears.

 

But maddening as the sensation was, it was equally intoxicating. Yan Yihuan’s resistance was ruthlessly suppressed, and before long, his body gave in, moving in response.

 

Seeing that Yan Yihuan was gradually getting into it, Li Xuanming slowed down instead. Noticing the slight frown of dissatisfaction on Yan Yihuan’s face and the desire gleaming in his eyes, he suddenly loosened his grip and gave him a light pat on the rear.

 

“All done.”

 

“Wh… what do you mean all done?”

 

Yan Yihuan felt as if he’d suddenly stepped into thin air in a dream, his heart dropped, aching worse than a cat’s scratch. Almost instinctively, he leaned a little closer into Li Xuanming’s embrace.

 

This small move nearly broke Li Xuanming’s composure. He took a deep breath and released him, “Get up. Zhen still has state matters to attend to.”

 

Yan Yihuan’s mind nearly couldn’t catch up. A faint flush still lingered at the corner of the emperor’s eyes, yet his expression was so stern it sent a chill through Yan Yihuan’s heart, causing any frustration or desire to vanish without a trace. 

 

Li Xuanming stood up from the bed and took a few steps before he suddenly turned his head back and raised his chin slightly towards Yan Yihuan, who was still sitting dazed on the bed, 

 

“Grand Historian Yan, what are you still dazed for? Go put on your official robes and follow me.”

 

The attendant had already poured tea for Ming Zhang three times. The emperor had said he would meet with him in the study this afternoon, but even after all this time, he still hadn’t shown up.

 

In broad daylight, His Majesty had actually shut the doors of the bedchamber tight. Even the palace staff were waiting outside. Shen Zhaoquan claimed the emperor was taking a nap, but Ming Zhang hadn’t seen any sign of Yan Yihuan either, so he had a few guesses as to what was going on.

 

Still, without a word from the emperor, he dared not leave. Another incense stick’s time passed before Shen Zhaoquan suddenly pushed the door open and politely informed him, 

 

“His Majesty is here.”

 

Ming Zhang hurriedly lowered his head in greeting. A sweep of bright yellow robes passed before him, and just as he was about to rise, a pair of slightly hurried footsteps entered his field of vision.

 

He looked up to see Yan Yihuan rushing in with one hand holding his official cap in place. The moment he saw Ming Zhang, his eyes lit up and he smiled so broadly his cheeks puffed out.

 

“Greetings, Lord Ming!”

 

He probably hadn’t looked in a mirror as his hair was a little disheveled with a few strands falling from under the hat and brushing against his cheek. The tips of his ears were still flushed red. After being swept a glance by the emperor, he immediately stopped smiling and lowered his head obediently, though he still snuck a quick wink in Ming Zhang’s direction.

 

At Li Xuanming’s signal, he took a seat at a small table beside the imperial desk, sitting up properly and preparing to record seriously.

 

A faint medicinal scent drifted through the air. Ming Zhang glanced at Yan Yihuan then nodded slightly, 

 

“Your Majesty, what this minister wishes to discuss is about Youluo Jian.”

 

Youluo Jian? What is Youluo Jian? How do you even write that? 

 

Yan Yihuan hadn’t expected to hit a roadblock right at the start. He looked up questioningly, only to see the emperor frown slightly and say, 

 

“Yan Yihuan, step outside first.”

 

Author’s note:

Little Yihuan: What do you mean ‘all done’?? I’m not done yet!