Qixue softly called out “husband” and arduously turned his head to gaze at Ji Yuheng. His eyes were as tender as water, his expression like honey dew among flower branches—viscous, dripping into silken threads, exuding the sweetness of fully ripened softness.
Ji Yuheng gazed back at him, seemingly momentarily stunned, and made no reply for a time.
His robes were impeccably neat, the silk sleeves falling onto Qixue’s sweat-dampened back, bringing a slight coolness. Yet the palm within the sleeve burned scorching hot, and with Qixue’s cry of “husband,” it grew even hotter in an instant. With astonishing force, it clamped tightly around Qixue’s waist.
His five fingers sank into the tender flesh, leaving plump marks from the pinching. Qixue let out a soft cry, begging Ji Yuheng to be gentle, but Ji Yuheng seemed not to hear a thing. His arms, like iron vices, tightened around Qixue—and then—
“Ah!”
Qixue suddenly screamed, losing himself as he collapsed into Ji Yuheng’s embrace.
“No… this won’t do… ah!”
Tears welled in his eyes as he ceaselessly begged Ji Yuheng for mercy. But just as he had shown no mercy when tormenting Ji Yuheng earlier, now that it was Ji Yuheng’s turn to take control, there was no pity to be had. He directly pushed Qixue toward the peak.
Ji Yuheng had gone utterly mad. He spread his long fingers and pressed down on Qixue’s lower back, forcing his waist downward.
Yet he also made Qixue arch his head back, lifting his chest to kiss him. Qixue was like a tightly drawn bow; if not for the flexibility of his waist, he would have long been snapped in two.
Even the bed curtains trembled and swayed.
When night reached its darkest hour, the candle flames in the Crown Prince’s Bedroom extinguished. A little eunuch gathered the wicks, intending to enter the bedchamber to relight them, but he was startled by the sweet, low moans emanating from within. His face flushed red as he hastily retreated.
The damp brocade quilt emanated a bewitching, rich fragrance.
Qixue trembled all over as he sat on the table, his hands braced behind him against the surface. Ji Yuheng knelt before him.
His two arms shook terribly, as if they might collapse powerlessly at any moment. His pink toes curled tightly; Ji Yuheng held his two snow-white calves, the grip slick with dense sweat.
“Yun Qi, stop…”
Qixue’s voice was feeble. He had sweated so much that his body was slick everywhere, as if coated in fine pearl luster—stunningly beautiful. Only his throat felt dry, his voice a little hoarse.
Tears continued to stream endlessly from the corners of his eyes. Sobbing, he pleaded with Ji Yuheng, “Stop now, no more—haah, too deep…”
“You got it wrong again, my dear.”
Ji Yuheng lifted his head. Water glistened on his lips, a faint blush colored his jade-like face, and he smiled as he said, “You should call me ‘husband.'”
“Husband, I was wrong, don’t torment me like this anymore, it’s really too…”
Qixue finally couldn’t hold out. He collapsed limply onto the table, but Ji Yuheng’s hands gripped his knees, and a warm tongue lapped at his calf.
He was clearly a gentleman of jade purity and pine-like chastity, yet to Qixue in this moment, he seemed utterly wicked.
His ten fingers were wicked, his lips and tongue wicked—his entire being a embodiment of lascivious evil. His naturally beloved constitution, adored by small animals, became the tool for his misdeeds. Qixue was toyed with until he was on the verge of death, nearly drowning in this ultimate tide of desire.
The warm embrace became a prison confining him; the once gentle, faint scent now thick and turbid. Qixue grew so weary that his rabbit ears and tail emerged, and he drifted into a hazy slumber.
…
Even in his dreams, Qixue was not entirely at peace.
In the middle of the night, he vaguely awoke several times, but not having slept enough, he lingered in a delirious half-dream, half-awake state, feeling as if Ji Yuheng were still toying with him.
Even after he fell asleep, Ji Yuheng did not let him go, though his movements were very gentle—enough to make Qixue feel very comfortable without fully waking him.
“My dear…”
Ji Yuheng kissed his rabbit ears and softly coaxed, “Sleep, your husband is right here by your side.”
His tone was so gentle and doting that Qixue’s heart melted, softening into spring water. Even if Ji Yuheng had committed the gravest wrong, Qixue would forgive him now.
Fine…
Qixue draped his soft ears over Ji Yuheng’s neck, lulled into a daze, and sank back into dreams.
The next morning at dawn.
Qixue woke early, feeling all the fatigue from the night before swept away. He was refreshed in both body and mind.
When he sat up, he was still a bit dazed. Unexpectedly, he felt no soreness anywhere on his body. But after sensing the massive surge in his Demon Power, he understood: Ji Yuheng’s Primordial Yang was truly a peerless tonic for him—the more he consumed, the greater the benefit.
There was even so much Primordial Yang that it wasn’t fully digested yet; his belly felt full and taut.
Qixue touched his abdomen and looked at Ji Yuheng beside him, who was still deep in slumber—a rare sight. This seemed to be the first time he had seen his sleeping face.
Ji Yuheng had removed his outer robe and wore only his inner garments. His brows and eyes held a gentle expression, one hand tightly grasping Qixue’s—even in sleep, he wouldn’t let go.
How much did he like him…
Qixue’s heart sweetened. He reached out a finger to trace the contours of Ji Yuheng’s brows and eyes, brushing over the faint dark circles beneath.
As Helan Ji had said, Ji Yuheng toiled day and night with state affairs, overworking himself. That was why he had decreed a few days’ rest for him; otherwise, he would have risen early, with no chance to sleep beside Qixue.
But what time was it now? If His Majesty woke and found him gone, would he panic and grow fearful, afraid that he had vanished again?
The thought of Helan Ji possibly searching everywhere for him made Qixue anxious—not just for his health, but also lest someone discover them at the East Palace and expose his affair with Ji Yuheng.
Qixue could sit still no longer. He immediately crawled down from the foot of the bed, picked up his undergarments and skirt from the floor, and hastily pulled them on.
But halfway through dressing, a pair of hands suddenly reached from behind, gently pulling him into an embrace.
“Mother Concubine…”
Ji Yuheng had woken. He softly called to him, reluctant as he asked, “Must you leave right now? Can’t you stay with me a little longer?”
Qixue shook his head and quietly told him, “I snuck out. His Majesty has no idea where I went. If he can’t find me, he’ll be terribly worried. I need to hurry back to him—I can’t let him fret.”
“Yes, I understand…”
Ji Yuheng released his hand and responded softly, waves of heavy disappointment surging in his heart.
Just last night, in the heat of their passion, Qixue had tenderly called him “husband,” and he had intimately addressed Qixue as “my dear”—like the most loving of spouses.
Yet he was not Qixue’s true husband. Qixue’s husband was another—his former cousin-in-law, now his Father Emperor, the most exalted ruler of the Dayong Kingdom. How could he contend with the Son of Heaven?
Ji Yuheng’s heart filled with bitterness. He lifted the brocade quilt and got out of bed, picked up Qixue’s scattered garments, knelt at his feet, and gently helped him dress. He even cradled his snowy foot and personally slipped on his silk shoes.
His eyes lowered, hiding all his hurt and pain, he quietly served Qixue until the end. Only then did he softly say, “Take care on the road, Mother Concubine.”
He thought he had concealed it perfectly, but how could Qixue not see his sourness? The more restrained he was, the more Qixue’s heart ached for him—because he knew Ji Yuheng was holding back out of consideration for his feelings.
Qixue couldn’t help but hug him. “Don’t be sad. You know I like you very much… I’ll come find you again.”
Did that mean waiting until Father Emperor rested, then sneaking away for a secret tryst, granting him just one night of fleeting pleasure?
Ji Yuheng’s heart tore in agony. On one hand, he despised himself utterly for feeling such pain—Qixue deigning to favor him was already his fortune in three lifetimes; he shouldn’t crave more. On the other, he deeply loved Qixue, knew Qixue loved him, and greed was his instinct—he couldn’t bear being merely Qixue’s casual dalliance.
No, no… He was already a sinner; he couldn’t err again, putting Mother Concubine in a difficult position because of him.
Ji Yuheng placed his hand over his arm and viciously dug into the unhealed wound, using the pain to jolt himself back to calm. He smiled at Qixue. “I’ll wait for you, Mother Concubine.”
Qixue started, noticing Ji Yuheng’s face suddenly pale. He couldn’t help reaching to touch his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
Ji Yuheng’s forehead was icy cool, yet beaded with cold sweat. Worried he was unwell, Qixue immediately steadied his arm. “The floor is cold—get up quickly, don’t kneel.”
Ji Yuheng yanked his hand back sharply, lest Qixue touch the blood on his arm. “I’m fine, Mother Concubine. No need to worry. I’ve just been laboring tirelessly these days; I feel a bit weak upon rising, that’s all.”
Qixue looked guilty, wondering if consuming too much of Ji Yuheng’s Primordial Yang had left him weak in the morning. “Should I call the imperial physician to check your pulse?”
“Alright, I will.”
Ji Yuheng gave a faint smile and urged Qixue to hurry back to Chang Le Palace. Though worried for Ji Yuheng, Qixue felt Helan Ji’s side was more pressing, so he nodded. “Alright then, I’m going back first. I’ll find a chance to see you again.”
He transformed back into Rabbit Tuan and used the Earth Escape Technique to slip away secretly, returning to Chang Le Palace.
Rabbit Tuan poked his little head out from the ground, hiding behind a pillar to peek around. He saw that neither Helan Ji nor Eunuch Xue was in Chang Le Palace. The palace maids and eunuchs showed no panic; they methodically swept and cleaned the grand hall.
Good—at least His Majesty hadn’t relapsed due to his disappearance.
Rabbit Tuan quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Everything else was fine; what worried him most was Helan Ji’s health.
But soon he sensed something amiss: All along his underground path, he hadn’t heard any sounds of searching in the palace. Everything was calm as usual. Did that mean… His Majesty knew where he was?
Rabbit Tuan’s heart jolted with a bad premonition. He first hurried back to his residence in Chenglu Palace to check for Helan Ji, but he wasn’t there—only Luxiangqiu curled in her nest, snoring away.
Had His Majesty gone to the East Palace?
Realizing the possibility, Rabbit Tuan’s scalp tingled. He immediately turned back toward Mingguang Palace.
Upon arriving at Mingguang Palace, he saw the Emperor’s palanquin. Palace maids and eunuchs trembled as they knelt everywhere. A bloody scent wafted from the grand hall.
Several unconscious eunuchs and East Palace guards were dragged out, their backs bloodied from flogging, leaving messy trails of blood on the ground.
Rabbit Tuan’s heart pounded as he stealthily infiltrated the palace hall. There sat Helan Ji on the main seat, coldly glaring down at everyone—including Ji Yuheng kneeling at the lower head.
This was a Helan Ji he had never seen before.
The young Emperor’s face was pale, devoid of anger or even much expression. Yet merely sitting there, it was as if he perched on a throne piled from mountains of corpses and seas of blood—chilling to the bone.
He spoke: “Last night, demons infiltrated the East Palace, yet you were so negligent, detecting nothing. How exactly have you been protecting the Crown Prince?”
Everyone fell deathly silent, prostrating deeply—not even daring to beg for mercy.
Helan Ji’s gaze slowly swept over the palace servants, lingering on the personal guards. Eunuch Xue understood and beckoned. Zhu Yan Guards with long staffs stepped forward and pinned the guards to the ground.
Ji Yuheng’s expression shifted slightly. He kneeled forward to Helan Ji and pleaded, “Father Emperor, this has nothing to do with them. It was this son’s failure in discipline. Please, Father Emperor, show mercy and spare them—”
Before he finished, Helan Ji’s heavy slap struck his face.
“Of course I know you failed in discipline.”
Helan Ji said coldly, “They are at fault, but your wrong is greater. Your lax oversight of your trusted guards led to their negligence.”
“However, my own fault is the gravest. It was my failure to discipline you that brought you to this state. Not only must you be punished, I must be punished even more.”
With that, he drew a short dagger from his sleeve and viciously carved a chunk of flesh from his arm. Blood gushed forth at once.
