Chapter 25

The light in the bedchamber was dim, with doors and windows tightly shut, leaving only a single lamp flickering in the corner to faintly illuminate the bed behind the curtains.

Helan Ji pinned Qixue beneath him. He wore no hair crown, his ink-black hair cascading down, his brooding brows and eyes tinged with the darkness of night, his pale skin frosty white, exuding an eerie, ghostly allure.

Qixue lay meekly below him, his heart racing with both shyness and anxiety. He offered no resistance as Helan Ji gripped his wrists, even deliberately shrugging his outer robe open further to tease out the seductive lines of his body.

The peach-pink garment splayed across the brocade like scattered petals, blooming vibrantly and revealing its delicate, alluring core.

The sheer gauze draped over his stunning flesh. Beneath the thin fabric, his slender waist was so narrow it could be spanned by a single hand, his soft skin as white as if soaked in milk, accented by two small ruby nipple studs against cherry-pink mounds like milk jelly—gorgeous beyond imagination.

Helan Ji’s gaze lingered on the nipple studs for a moment before shifting to Qixue’s face.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He echoed Qixue’s excuse in a flat tone, releasing his hold and lifting the edge of the gauze robe. “So you came to see me dressed like this?”

A faint blush colored Qixue’s delicate features. He had indeed intended to seduce Helan Ji—it was obvious to anyone—but having it plainly called out in that indifferent voice left him somewhat embarrassed.

“Doesn’t it look good?”

Qixue wheedled softly, reaching out with both hands to eagerly cling to Helan Ji’s chest and abdomen, undoing the fastenings of his inner robe to reveal firm pectoral muscles. “I’d only dress like this for Your Majesty… Do you like it, Your Majesty? A Xue just wants Your Majesty to like A Xue more…”

He tilted his head up, aiming to kiss Helan Ji’s Adam’s apple, but Helan Ji pinched his chin before he could get close.

“You don’t need to win my favor this way.”

Helan Ji lowered his eyes, smoothing the stray locks from Qixue’s cheek and gently stroking his long hair.

“I keep you by my side not to make you my catamite. Xu Taifei likes you, and so do I. If you’re willing, I’ll be your brother and dote on you just the same. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

He scooped Qixue up, averting his gaze from the other’s alluring body as he pulled the outer robe closed. But Qixue melted bonelessly into his arms, wrapping around his lean, powerful waist and pressing his flushed lips forward.

“Your Majesty misunderstands. I’m not deliberately trying to please you. I do this for myself.”

“I like Your Majesty, I covet Your Majesty, so I dressed like this to tempt you… I don’t want Your Majesty as my brother, but as my husband. Can’t that happen?”

A rich fragrance lingered in Helan Ji’s breath. Stunned by Qixue’s confession, he froze, allowing Qixue to seize the moment and kiss his thin lips.

The instant their lips met, Helan Ji snapped back to awareness and gripped Qixue’s lower back fiercely.

He had never been intimate with anyone before. The sensation was utterly foreign to him, especially since the one kissing him was Qixue—the very person he had once fantasized about in his dreams—sending electric tingles surging through him.

The soft, wet sounds filled the silent bedchamber. Qixue’s eyes grew hazy from the kiss, and he slumped softly into Helan Ji’s arms, murmuring tenderly amid their entwined lips and tongues, “Your Majesty…”

His voice was light and sweet, falling on the ear like a shiver-inducing melody.

Helan Ji kissed him for a long time, until Qixue’s face was flushed crimson and his lips glistened with moisture. Only then did he release him, a strand of sticky, passion-laden saliva trailing between their lips.

Qixue breathed raggedly through parted lips, his eyes brimming with tears from the intensity of the kiss, beads of sweat dampening his temples like rain-kissed flower stems—delicate and pitiable.

Cuddled intimately against Helan Ji, Qixue sensed the emperor’s arousal and felt a surge of joy.

He was thrilled not only that his beauty trap was working but also that, despite Helan Ji’s frail health, he was perfectly capable in this regard. It turned out the emperor avoided concubines not because of infertility, but for other reasons. With enough effort, Qixue was certain he could conceive the emperor’s child.

“Your Majesty, A Xue likes you so much…”

Qixue murmured softly, his gaze dazed, poised to take things further—only for Helan Ji to push him away the next moment, his voice hoarse. “Go back.”

“Your Majesty?” Qixue’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re… you’re sending me away?”

Helan Ji said nothing. Incredulous, Qixue dragged his languid body upright and clutched at the emperor’s robe. “Why won’t Your Majesty have me? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me, Your Majesty. I’ll change, I swear. Please don’t reject A Xue…”

His expression was pained, full of grievance as he pleaded. He couldn’t understand it—Helan Ji had clearly been moved by him. Why refuse at the crucial moment? What had he done to displease the emperor?

Sensing Qixue’s panic and sorrow, Helan Ji pulled him into his arms. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I… have a secret affliction. I can’t touch you.”

A secret affliction? What kind? Your Majesty clearly had no issue…

Qixue refused to believe it, his tone tinged with petulance. “What secret affliction could Your Majesty have?”

Helan Ji stroked the top of his head. “If I told you, you’d fear me.”

“I wouldn’t… How do you know I’d be scared if you haven’t even told me?”

Qixue gazed at Helan Ji, determined to hear the truth. But Helan Ji dodged the question. “Go rest properly. From now on, you’re my younger brother. Tomorrow, I’ll select a royal title for you. You can choose the characters yourself.”

His lashes lowered, his expression cold. If Qixue hadn’t felt the emperor’s fervor during their kiss, he might have believed Helan Ji harbored no desire for him at all.

Qixue didn’t understand why Helan Ji rejected him despite his obvious attraction, but he couldn’t give up on dual cultivation with him. It seemed he’d have to enact Plan B: slip Fragrance Pills into the incense burner to knock out His Majesty, then sneak back for their union.

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty… A Xue takes his leave.”

Qixue feigned a aggrieved look but seethed inwardly with reluctance as he slid off the bed and straightened his peach-pink robe at the edge.

Helan Ji sat on the bed, silently watching Qixue tie his sash. The faint glow of the rubies glimmered through the gauze. Having glimpsed the breathtaking allure beneath, he could never forget it.

His throat bobbed. The Nightmare Demon lurking in the shadows sensed the deep throbbing of his heart. Without awaiting orders, it slithered out from the cracks and blocked Qixue’s path.

Qixue turned back in delighted surprise. “Does Your Majesty not want me to leave after all?”

Helan Ji fell silent, ordering the Nightmare Demon to withdraw at once. “I didn’t mean that.”

Qixue’s mind raced, quickly deducing why the Nightmare Demon had appeared: it had simply followed His Majesty’s desires. The emperor didn’t truly want him gone; some reason prevented him from keeping Qixue.

In Qixue’s view, no reason outweighed Helan Ji’s health and heirs. The Dual Cultivation Technique worked best with mutual willingness. Knocking him out would diminish its effect—better if he were awake.

With that thought, Qixue rallied, eager to persuade him again.

“If Your Majesty didn’t want me to leave, why not say so? I’m bold; I won’t be scared. How could I fear Your Majesty?”

Qixue gazed at Helan Ji with affectionate longing, his eyes soft and seductive. In a coquettish voice, he said, “I know Your Majesty isn’t indifferent to me. So why refuse me?”

“You’ve never known man-woman relations, so you don’t understand the pleasure. I want Your Majesty to experience that bliss—and from me…”

Helan Ji’s gaze suddenly fixed on him. “So you know how pleasurable it is? You’ve experienced it?”

“I…” Qixue panicked at the counterquestion, realizing he’d slipped up.

“Of course not.” He forced calm, smiling at Helan Ji. “I’ve just read books, so I know a bit more than Your Majesty.”

His expression betrayed no flaw, but his inner panic and the scent of deceit darkened Helan Ji’s gaze.

Helan Ji rose from the bed and tugged open Qixue’s gauze robe, exposing the radiant ruby nipple studs. “A gift from your former lover?”

“I…”

Qixue’s heart raced, terrified Helan Ji would uncover his ties to Wei Huai. “It was… I myself…”

“Tell the truth. Don’t lie to me.”

Helan Ji lifted Qixue’s chin, forcing eye contact. “I dislike being deceived.”

Qixue bit his lip, hesitating, then admitted, “I did have a lover, and these nipple studs are from him. But we’re long over. If Your Majesty despises me for not being a virgin, I’ll leave now and never bother you again.”

He pushed Helan Ji’s hand away and headed for the door. No footsteps followed.

Was chastity that important?

Qixue didn’t understand or care, but he knew most humans prized it highly.

Unfortunately, His Majesty was one of them. It was his own slip-up; he couldn’t become the emperor’s favored consort. He’d have to rely on drugging him…

Suddenly, something felt wrong. His calf was gripped by something.

Looking down, a black tendril coiled around his leg, like a squid’s tentacle but as thick as a bowl, soft black flesh dripping viscous fluid that soaked his leg slickly.

What demon was this?!

Qixue’s heart jolted, fearing for Helan Ji as he reached for the Jade Token to summon the Buddha Ghost. But turning, he saw the bizarre tentacle extended from beneath Helan Ji’s robe.

There wasn’t just one—dozens emerged from behind Helan Ji, thick and thin, writhing menacingly. The thickest had seized Qixue.

Stunned, Qixue watched more tentacles snake toward him, binding his wrists and ankles, cradling his waist and buttocks, lifting him up.

One slender, playful tendril teasingly brushed his cheek, leaving thick, musky fluid.

Like a sacrificial offering, he was borne back before Helan Ji.

The night was bleak. Helan Ji, cloaked in black, his handsome yet brooding features pale and shadowed, had writhing, slimy flesh coiling at his feet—grotesque and nauseating.

He leaned in slightly, his cold hand caressing Qixue’s brow. “You say you love me, that you won’t fear me. Is that true?”

“This is my true form. If you want my child, you must endure them.”

“I gave you a chance to leave, but you didn’t take it. Now, I won’t let you go.”

Aside from lacking a beloved, this was another reason Helan Ji shunned heirs.

For revenge, he’d practiced witchcraft since age ten. Years later, it backlashed: shortening his life and fusing his body with the Nightmare Demon. This allowed his command over it but barred him from stopping.

He could couple normally with his human body, but it wouldn’t impregnate. For conception, he needed this inhuman form, irrigating with these monstrous limbs…

Who would share intimacy with such a monster?

He hadn’t wanted Sang Xue to see this ugliness, so he’d sent him away. Sang Xue was the only one who might love him—if even he recoiled, Helan Ji didn’t know what to do.

But hearing of Qixue’s past lover and seeing him leave unleashed his instincts, dragging Qixue back.

Perhaps from unwillingness to let him go… or jealousy, craving Qixue to accept all of him.

The friskiest small tendril toyed with the vivid ruby studs.

Ding…

The ruby danced against the black flesh, emitting a faint metallic scrape.

Fluid made it gleam, lustrous even in the dim light, reflecting in Helan Ji’s eyes.

Suddenly, the tendril coiled around the gem and tugged upward.

“Y-Your… Majesty!”

Qixue’s voice pitched high, breaking into tiny whimpers.

He shed tears, his beautiful face crying like a pear blossom in the rain, his entire body trembling: “Your Majesty, please spare A Xue…”

The way he cried was utterly pitiable, and he looked terribly afraid, but Helan Ji sensed his emotions through the Nightmare Demon and discovered that the reason for his tears wasn’t fear at all—it was… overwhelming pleasure.

Just as Qixue had said, he wasn’t afraid of Helan Ji. There was surprise in his heart, panic, and a mind thrown into turmoil, but absolutely no fear.

Once he recovered from that wave of sensation, Qixue sniffled, gazing at Helan Ji through tear-blurred eyes, filled with tender affection.

“I love Your Majesty with all my heart—I won’t be afraid of you no matter what. Do you believe me now, Your Majesty?”

“No matter what you do to me, it’s fine. No matter what you look like, I love you… and I love Your Majesty’s…”

He shyly kissed one of the slender tentacles. In an instant, Helan Ji’s pupils contracted slightly, and all the tentacles surged with excitement, wrapping around Qixue’s body.

…

The single flame on the candlestick went out.

The bedchamber plunged into complete darkness, with only the moonlight outside filtering through the lattice windows, faintly outlining the contours of the bed curtains.

The crumpled gauze robe lay on the rug, soaked through beyond recognition.

“Mm… Your Majesty…”

Behind the bed curtains, Qixue lay slumped against the pillow, his refined features streaked with tears. He reached to grasp the curtain, but his fingers fell limply.

His lips parted, exhaling hot breaths wearily. Every breath seemed filled with the musky, sweet scent from the tentacles. Helan Ji embraced him from behind and pulled him back.

Helan Ji’s stamina far exceeded Qixue’s imagination. Wasn’t His Majesty supposed to be frail? Where exactly was he frail?

In his dazed state, Qixue had long forgotten the incantations of the Dual Cultivation Technique—even the very concept of dual cultivation slipped his mind. He simply let Helan Ji manipulate him as he pleased.

He was so tired now, so thirsty. He just wanted to go back, drink some water, and rest. But his belly felt so full he couldn’t drink anything, so he’d just go sleep. He really couldn’t take anymore; he was so sleepy…

Qixue crawled toward the edge on trembling limbs, only for a tentacle to coil around his ankle and drag him back.

Helan Ji held him close, his long fingers pressing against Qixue’s swollen abdomen, and kissed him again.

Qixue cried even as they kissed, begging Helan Ji for mercy: “Your Majesty, I really can’t anymore. Please spare me…”

He cried so pitifully, but Helan Ji had no intention of letting him off easily.

Sensing Qixue’s emotions, Helan Ji knew he hadn’t reached total collapse yet. “Spare you? I know you can take more. Why should I spare you?”

In response, two ruby-like gems arced through the air, swaying ceaselessly.

…

Dawn broke.

It was the usual hour for Helan Ji’s morning rising, and Eunuch Xue waited outside the bedchamber door with over a dozen young eunuchs.

Though he knew His Majesty was deeply suspicious and never allowed eunuchs to attend him personally—all his daily needs handled by the Nightmare Demon—the protocols must be observed. Eunuch Xue still brought people every day to wait, at least to hand over items if needed.

But today, after waiting outside for half the morning, with the time for morning court approaching, there was still no sound from inside.

This had happened before, always when His Majesty was too ill to rise. Eunuch Xue grew anxious. He sent a young eunuch hurrying to the Imperial Hospital for an imperial physician while dispatching another to inform the front court that there would be no audience today.

Eunuch Xue pushed open the door and entered the bedchamber alone to check on Helan Ji’s condition. But as soon as he stepped in, a thick, decadent fragrance hit him, startling Eunuch Xue.

“Your Majesty?”

He approached the bed softly and saw the gauze robe and peach-pink robe on the rug. He had a vague idea of what had happened.

This peach-pink robe was one His Majesty had instructed him to prepare for Young Master Sang Xue. His Majesty paid close attention to everything concerning Young Master Sang, even personally approving every furnishing in the room—though he didn’t want Young Master Sang to know, so this old servant had kept silent.

At that moment, a pale hand emerged from the bed curtains, parting them slightly. The fragrance grew even thicker.

“Xue Ming.”

Helan Ji’s hoarse, low voice came from within, weary but mostly sated: “I overslept this morning, so no morning court today. But I have an imperial decree to issue. Go summon the Hanlin scholars to draft it.”

Eunuch Xue bowed respectfully. “Please give your orders, Your Majesty.”

“The son of the Sang family, Sang Xue, is gentle and virtuous, refined and wise, worthy of the position of Noble Consort.” Helan Ji said. “As for the specific title, I’ll ask his preference once he wakes.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Eunuch Xue acknowledged the order, then cautiously added: “This servant knows Young Master Sang is exceptional and deserves any reward. But granting him the rank of Noble Consort right away—might that be too high? The ministers may object…”

“They have no say in ‘no.’ Not making Sang Xue the Empress outright is already giving them face.”

Helan Ji held the sleeping Qixue and said coolly: “Advise them to abandon any thoughts of sending women into the palace. From now on, I have only Sang Xue. He will be my Empress soon enough.”