Helan Ji reached to touch Qixue’s face but stopped just before his fingertips met the lips.
In the end, he only stroked Qixue’s cheek. He directed the nightmare demons to carefully carry Qixue to the bedroom. He also sent one to instruct Eunuch Xue to prepare the carriage. Moments later, Helan Ji arrived at Cuiwei Palace.
He planned to take Sang Xue from Xu Taifei.
Sang Xue should stay by his side.
—
“No!”
After hearing Helan Ji’s request, Xu Taifei said agitatedly, “I won’t let A Xue live in your Chang Le Palace. Your Chang Le Palace is full of poisonous bugs and demons—it’s too terrifying. A Xue would be scared sick there!”
“It’s already been cleared out,” Helan Ji said. “I will treat him well.”
Helan Ji always kept his word. Whatever he promised, he fulfilled. If he said so, he would certainly treat Qixue well—perhaps even better than Xu Taifei did.
Xu Taifei paused, then said reluctantly, “But I can’t be without A Xue. I’m used to him by my side. If he’s not in Cuiwei Palace, I’ll be so lonely.”
“I can’t be without him either,” Helan Ji said. “I need him by my side.”
Xu Taifei looked surprised. “You like A Xue that much?”
Helan Ji didn’t answer directly, saying only, “He likes me. I won’t betray his feelings.”
“That’s true—A Xue really likes you a lot.”
Xu Taifei sighed. Though reluctant, she agreed. “Very well. If A Xue truly wants to move to Chang Le Palace, I won’t stop him. But you must let him come visit me. Don’t block us from seeing each other.”
Helan Ji nodded. “He should visit you.”
“I knew A Xue was loved by all. Of course you’d like him too. I just didn’t expect you’d try to take him from me…”
Xu Taifei grumbled, a hint of pride in her tone. “I have one condition. If A Xue really lives with you, as his ‘brother,’ you must remember your ‘sister’s’ likes and dislikes. I’ll tell you once—listen well. I’ll quiz you later.”
…
And so, Qixue officially moved into Chang Le Palace.
He was naturally overjoyed and deeply grateful to Xu Taifei. Every day, he returned to Cuiwei Palace to visit her, sharing lunch with her before heading back to Chang Le Palace in the afternoon. As long as Helan Ji wasn’t meeting ministers, Qixue stayed by his side.
At night, Qixue burned the midnight oil poring over medical texts and Daoist scriptures, searching for ways to regulate Helan Ji’s body. Unfortunately, he found nothing.
As the essence gradually dissipated, Helan Ji’s complexion grew paler. Qixue worried endlessly, losing even the heart to climb into the dragon bed.
Until one day, while Helan Ji handled confidential state affairs, Qixue dove into the Scripture Pavilion again, looking for a book to read that night. Suddenly, a mild voice came from behind. “A Xue.”
Hearing the familiar male voice, Qixue turned joyfully and met Xuan Yang’s gaze.
Xuan Yang held a whisk, clad in snow-white Daoist robes, his expression kind and compassionate. His gaze on Qixue held extra gentleness. “I came to the palace to deliver medicine and stopped by to see you. I said we’d meet again.”
“This disciple greets the Holy Monarch!”
Qixue was thrilled and moved to kneel, but Xuan Yang gently supported him, preventing it. “Between us, no need for such empty formalities. You don’t have to kneel to me anymore.”
He favored Qixue greatly. But Qixue shook his head repeatedly, saying sincerely and fearfully, “This disciple dares not. Propriety must not be abandoned. How can I meet the Holy Monarch without paying respects?”
Seeing his insistence, Xuan Yang sighed softly. “Very well, as you wish. It’s been a while—how have you been in the palace? Any troubles?”
There were troubles, of course—regulating Helan Ji’s body, and if possible, curing Xu Taifei’s madness to restore her sanity.
But not having seen Xuan Yang for a while, Qixue had missed him. Instead of asking for help right away, he asked with concern, “This disciple is fine in the palace. And You, Holy Monarch? How have You been? Has Xie Shu troubled You?”
Xuan Yang paused, a faint smile in his eyes. He stroked the top of Qixue’s head. “No one’s ever asked how I’ve been. You’re the first, A Xue.”
“Rest assured—no one can trouble me, not even Xie Shu.” His tone was indifferent. He asked Qixue in turn, “And you? Whatever happens, come to me for help. I’ll assist you.”
Qixue’s heart warmed. He sweetly coquetted with Xuan Yang. “The Holy Monarch is so good to this disciple. I truly don’t deserve it.”
“It’s not ‘undeserved’—it’s ‘only right.'”
Xuan Yang raised his hand and indulgently tapped Qixue’s nose. “You’ve done things for me. How could I mistreat you? Tell me.”
“This disciple does have troubles. Please help, Holy Monarch…”
Qixue poured out all his difficulties to Xuan Yang, hoping to cure Helan Ji and Xu Taifei.
But recalling Xuan Yang’s past statement that he disliked Qixue being so soft-hearted in begging for others, Qixue rephrased: Only by curing them could he smoothly bear Helan Ji’s child. Xu Taifei could also help him stand firmer in the palace, making it easier to deal with Xie Shu and Ji Yuheng later.
As expected, Xuan Yang showed no displeasure this time. He nodded. “You’ve done well. Curing them would indeed help you greatly.”
“I’ve met Xu Taifei once. Her madness stems from her soul leaving her body—she lost one soul and one po. To restore her mind, we need to retrieve them. It’s not difficult; I’ll handle it soon.”
“As for Helan Ji’s illness—”
An ancient book suddenly appeared in Xuan Yang’s hand. He gave it to Qixue. “You’ll cure him with this. It will benefit you greatly too.”
“A Xue, have you heard of the Dual Cultivation Method?”
Qixue took the book, surprised. “This disciple has, of course. Could this book be…”
Xuan Yang nodded. “It is a Dual Cultivation Technique.”
The so-called Dual Cultivation Method elevated both parties’ cultivation through intercourse—an ancient Daoist practice.
The Dual Cultivation Method had almost no flaws, its effects overbearingly powerful. A century ago, upon its emergence, it unleashed a reign of bloody terror.
Countless died because of it. Years later, everyone who had handled this technique was dead, and it vanished from the world. Qixue had only read an introduction in his studies but never seen it.
Qixue exclaimed in awe, “This disciple thought this technique was long lost. I never imagined the Holy Monarch still had it.”
Xuan Yang chuckled lightly. “Of course I have it. Do you know who created this technique?”
Qixue blinked. “Could it be You?”
“Not me—Xie Shu.”
Xuan Yang said, “Very interesting, isn’t it? The aloof and transcendent State Preceptor of Dayong actually created such a lascivious Dual Cultivation Method. Why do you think that was?”
No one knew why Xie Shu had created the Dual Cultivation Technique, but Qixue felt it was a manifestation of Xie Shu’s inner depravity. He was just that sort of beast cloaked in human skin.
Regardless, the Dual Cultivation Technique was undeniably very useful. Qixue returned with the ancient book in high spirits and threw himself into studying it for several days. Finally, he felt he had grasped it nearly perfectly—he could dual cultivate with Helan Ji.
Though Xuan Yang hadn’t brought any Baosui Pills this time, Qixue could hardly wait to climb into the dragon bed.
Conveniently, he lived right in Chang Le Palace. The Nightmare Demons wouldn’t be on guard against him, so he could slip into His Majesty’s bedchamber under cover of night and seduce him into a night of passion…
Qixue immediately instructed Dong Yuan to procure a sheer gauze outfit for him, which he planned to wear while seducing Helan Ji.
Just to be safe, he also prepared the Fragrance Pills Ying Niang had given him. If Helan Ji refused to favor him, he would use the pills to stupefy him and force the union.
That night.
Deep into the night, all was still.
Once the candles in Helan Ji’s bedchamber had been extinguished, Qixue slipped into the gauze outfit and draped a peach-pink robe over it. He silently pushed open the door.
The moonlight was dim. Barefoot, he stepped onto the soft carpet. His tender pink toes sank into the plush fibers, his pale insteps gleaming softly, while the elegant lines of his slender calves vanished into the trailing hem.
Drawing near Helan Ji’s bed, Qixue half-knelt and leaned against the edge. He slipped his hand beneath the brocade quilt, groping until he found Helan Ji’s hand.
“Your Majesty…”
He called out to Helan Ji in a sweet, cloying whisper, hooking his little finger and pressing his body close.
“Is Your Majesty asleep? A Xue misses you so much I can’t sleep. Just thinking of Your Majesty makes my heart race. Your Majesty, touch it—see why it’s pounding so fast…”
He pleaded in a lingering, drawn-out manner for Helan Ji’s mercy, drawing his hand out and placing it against his own chest. “Your Majesty, touch A Xue… okay? I… ah!”
Suddenly, a tremendous force yanked him onto the bed. The world spun, and he found himself pinned firmly beneath Helan Ji, staring straight into those dark phoenix eyes.
