Yan Yihuan was shaken dizzy. One hand struggled to push Li Xuanming away, while the other arm was caught between his teeth, relying on the sting of pain to keep his mind clear.
“Yihuan?” Xu Xinyao’s voice came from outside, sounding anxious. He knocked a few more times, “Your voice sounds off. Are you feeling unwell?”
Each knock landed like a heavy blow on his chest. The more afraid Yan Yihuan was of making a sound, the rougher Li Xuanming became. His strong fingers dug deep into Yan Yihuan’s waist, making it impossible to break free.
The fear of being discovered at any moment engulfed him. He was panicked to the core, yet every thrust felt sharper and clearer than usual.
Yan Yihuan gave up resisting. He clamped both hands tightly over his mouth and nose, eyes brimming with tears as he looked up at Li Xuanming, silently pleading for him to stop for a moment.
“Yihuan?” The longer he stayed silent, the more anxious the person outside became. Not only did Xu Xinyao not leave, he started knocking again, “Are you alright?”
As the door handle rattled, the frantic movements gradually slowed. Yan Yihuan released his hands and tried hard to steady his breathing. When his racing heart finally eased a little, he quickly turned toward the door and said,
“I’m fine, Big Brother Xu— mm!” The moment he uttered those words, Yan Yihuan was thrust into completely, fitting together perfectly. He gritted his teeth and glared resentfully at the deliberate act, then hurriedly added, “I just feel really tired today. Let’s talk tomorrow morning!”
“Really…?” Xu Xinyao outside the door clearly sounded hesitant. But since Yan Yihuan obviously didn’t want to open the door, he couldn’t just barge in. He could only say, “Alright then. I have something important to discuss with you tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay!”
Yan Yihuan had no mind for whatever important matter that might be. He was staring blankly as Li Xuanming caught his wrist and pulled it downward, pressing it against his own abdomen.
His hand was guided over smooth skin when something unexpected pressed against his palm. Yan Yihuan, confused, lifted his upper body slightly and looked down at where his hand rested. He even unconsciously kneaded it a few times.
That touch stirred a strange yet intoxicating sensation in Li Xuanming, and the low sound that escaped his throat made Yan Yihuan’s nerves jolt as if struck by lightning. In that instant, he suddenly realized what that firmness beneath his hand was.
“Tell me. Who’s in there?”
Li Xuanming’s hand wrapped completely around the back of Yan Yihuan’s, tightening little by little. When Yihuan tried to pull his hand away, his movement only made the shape beneath even clearer.
“…”
Yan Yihuan gave up struggling. His eyes were still filled with tears, his lower lip caught tightly between his teeth as he turned his head away, refusing to answer such a humiliating question. Yet his trembling lashes betrayed the turmoil within him.
Li Xuanming’s lips curved faintly. More than this moment, what truly occupied his mind was the marriage proposal reported by Youluo Jian earlier that day.
He glanced back over his shoulder, then leaned down slowly.
“Why did you bring Xu Xinyao back? You’ve agreed to it?”
Agreed to what?
That slow, unhurried pace made Yan Yihuan close his eyes without thinking, letting himself be completely absorbed in the moment, not wanting to bother with whatever question had just been asked.
“Agree…” His expression was already flushed and unfocused. With a hint of impatience, he moved slightly on his own and muttered, “To what? Big Brother Xu’s gone by now, just… hurry up.”
In the past, if he had dawdled like this, a storm would have followed. Yan Yihuan would even have gritted his teeth, bracing himself for what was coming.
But for some reason, not only was it different from usual, but the surroundings seemed to have turned cold in an instant. Yan Yihuan’s heart skipped a beat, and he snapped his eyes open.
The person who should have been sharing this intimate moment with him was now staring straight at him. The desire in their eyes was fading bit by bit, replaced by a coldness that filled their expression.
What… what’s happening?
Yan Yihuan instinctively sensed danger. Lately, he had been so spoiled that he often acted without restraint, and even when the emperor scolded him, he had thought it playful.
But now, he suddenly realized that the emperor’s previous “sternness” had been nothing compared to this. The weight of authority pressed down on him like a thousand tons, so overwhelming that he hadn’t even noticed he was holding his breath.
His first instinct was to flee. Yan Yihuan tried to move back in fear, but a sudden force pinned him firmly in place. Then his jaw was gripped tightly, and even his fingers were caught in a vice-like hold.
“Yan Yihuan, what do you take Zhen for?”
The voice carried not a trace of desire, each word seemed forced from between clenched teeth, sending a chill through Yan Yihuan.
“Mm…mm…!”
His cheek hurt so much! Yan Yihuan didn’t understand what was happening. He gripped Li Xuanming’s wrists, hoping he would loosen his hold, but the pressure didn’t lessen. In fact, the harder he tried, the more it hurt.
Yan Yihuan realized that the emperor wanted an answer from him, but how was he supposed to respond?
“Of… of course as the Son of Heaven.”
He was the supreme ruler. This answer was sure to be correct.
But then why was Li Xuanming still staring at him like that? The faint light of expectation in his eyes was gradually dimming.
“Ke… so that’s all it is,” he murmured, half to Yan Yihuan, half to himself. It was just like that day during the Qiyuan Festival. Beneath the ancient tree, his answer had been just as pure, without a trace of deception.
But it was precisely that purity that cut the deepest.
“Yan Yihuan, then what do you think Zhen takes you as?”
Yan Yihuan froze. He wasn’t a hostage?
At most, he was a favored hostage, someone the emperor took a liking to, or perhaps even a pet of sorts?
Even with his usual lack of restraint, Yan Yihuan knew he couldn’t say such thoughts aloud. He stammered softly, lowering his eyes, not daring to meet those eyes that he always found himself helplessly drawn into.
“Zhen understands now.”
The sudden release of his jaw made the pain vanish, but instead of relief, Yan Yihuan felt a pang of unease. Instinctively, he grabbed the arms that were about to leave, not even knowing why, but his intuition simply refused to let him go.
His sweat-dampened body gradually cooled as the atmosphere chilled. A light breeze from somewhere made him shiver, and the next moment, a thick embroidered quilt was tossed over him.
“Zhaoquan.”
No matter how cold his heart felt, Li Xuanming still remembered that Yan Yihuan shouldn’t catch a chill and, just like usual, helped him bathe.
Yan Yihuan no longer dared to enjoy it freely. Although he didn’t avoid the act, he remained stiff through the bath and was then tucked back into the quilt.
Once under the covers, he habitually shifted inward, making room for Li Xuanming. Yet he remained silent, leaving the room without even a glance back.
With a loud bang of the door closing, Yan Yihuan, never having experienced such cold treatment, felt as if a huge piece of him had been hollowed out. He clenched the quilt tightly, a sudden, inexplicable ache stirring in his chest.
He paused, pressing a hand to his heart in an attempt to soothe the pain, but couldn’t figure out why it had come so suddenly.
Why did everything just turn so frighteningly wrong? He tried to replay the events in his mind but still couldn’t pinpoint where he had said or done anything wrong.
As the old saying goes, being with the emperor is like being with a tiger, and indeed, it was.
The sky was moonless, and the dark night seemed endlessly long.
A few paces away, Li Xuanming stopped and looked towards a shadow under the opposite eaves. A figure stepped out from there. Compared to Li Xuanming’s composed demeanor, Xu Xinyao’s body trembled slightly, uncertain and hesitant.
“You… did you just come out of Yihuan’s room?”
The author has something to say:
Shh~ babies, some things are meant to be felt, not described~
