Liu Yuanxun’s words had barely left his mouth when Ning Bi froze in place.
For so many years, the weight of the crimes pinned on her had been as heavy as a mountain, and the debt of a hundred thousand had left her gasping for breath. She hadn’t dared to look toward the future at all, clinging desperately to the belief that she could overturn her case if she just held on with that one last breath. Only then could she endure the long decade under such crushing burdens.
Yet Liu Yuanxun’s words plunged her into an unprecedented confusion.
Yes, the person she had longed for all those years had finally appeared, and someone finally cared about the truths she had thirsted for. But what came after?
No matter the outcome, her ten years were gone forever, and her family was dead…
How was she supposed to move forward from here?
…
It was the road home, after all, so Ling Ting kept the horse at a leisurely pace. The carriage wheels rolled forward slowly, and in the ensuing silence, Liu Yuanxun gradually felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness wash over him.
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier. He propped his head up, determined to stay awake until they reached the estate, but then someone drew near at his side.
His shoulder was gently supported, and without thinking, he rested his head on Gu Lianzhao’s shoulder.
Liu Yuanxun blinked his eyes open in a daze, realizing he was pillowed on Gu Lianzhao’s shoulder. He murmured softly, “Thank you, A’Qiao…”
Gu Lianzhao gave a low hum in response and said nothing more, allowing Liu Yuanxun’s light breaths to brush against his neck. He turned his head to gaze at the carriage curtain, which flipped up occasionally with the jolts of the road, quietly watching the sparse flow of people outside.
Back at the estate, Ning Bi was temporarily settled in the servants’ quarters.
She was a noblewoman by birth, after all. Not only could she read and write, but her embroidery skills were outstanding as well. In such a vast princely estate, there was surely a place for her.
They had just finished dinner when Ling Qing came in carrying medicine.
Liu Yuanxun swallowed the nauseatingly bitter draught, and it took quite a while for his furrowed brow to relax.
Ling Qing sat on a stool, propping her chin as she watched him drink. Casually, she asked, “Master, is Miss Ning Bi going to stay with us in the estate from now on?”
Liu Yuanxun shook his head. “Just temporarily. If the case has no loose ends, she’ll have to return to Lamp Melody Alley. If there’s someone else pulling strings behind the scenes, she’ll need to find her own path forward.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Ling Qing said. “Master, one of our embroiderers was talking about resigning recently to go home and nurse her child, so that position is open now. I saw the pouch Miss Ning Bi embroidered earlier—she says her skills are just passable, but that’s her being modest. I’d like to keep her here to make clothes for the prince.”
Liu Yuanxun smiled faintly but didn’t agree, changing the subject instead. “How many is this for Chen Niang?”
Ling Qing replied, “This should be her second. Her mother-in-law passed away around New Year’s, and with no one to care for the child at home, she plans to go back. She has embroidery skills anyway, so she can pick up some small jobs and get by.”
Liu Yuanxun nodded. “She’s been with the estate for some years now, and several of the outfits she’s made suit me perfectly. If she insists on leaving, take five taels of silver from my personal funds and give them to her. It’ll be a fitting end to our association.”
Ling Qing grinned. “Chen Niang will be over the moon—she’s short on cash right now.”
Liu Yuanxun opened his mouth to reply but covered it with a hand to stifle a yawn instead.
Ling Qing realized he was exhausted and stood to clear away the remnants, intending to let him rest.
Ling Qing carried out the tray with the bowl in its steamer basket. Ling Ting went off to prepare hot water for washing up.
Once the sound of the door opening and closing echoed from the entrance, only Liu Yuanxun and Gu Lianzhao remained in the room.
Liu Yuanxun shed his outer robe, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed wearily onto the bed. “A’Qiao, you’ve been on the go all day too. Get some early rest tonight. We’ll talk about tomorrow once you’re refreshed.”
Gu Lianzhao first washed his hands in the copper basin on one side, then walked slowly to the bedside and sat down beside him. “I’m not tired. You, on the other hand…”
He reached out and took hold of Liu Yuanxun’s wrist. “Lord Ling will need some time to fetch the water. If you’re worn out, just close your eyes and rest. I’ll use my true qi to circulate your blood and qi.”
With so many matters piling up these past few days, Liu Yuanxun did indeed need to replenish his energy, so he didn’t refuse. He extended his wrist listlessly, his face showing clear signs of fatigue.
As soon as the pure yang internal energy entered his body, Liu Yuanxun let out a low, contented groan of comfort, his eyes narrowing in satisfaction. He looked utterly at ease.
The candlelight flickered softly in the room, its warm yellow glow softening the pale white of the moonlight. It cast a particularly appealing light over the man on the bed.
Gu Lianzhao held his wrist, channeling internal energy while chatting idly. “Who is this Chen Niang the prince mentioned?”
With his eyes closed, Liu Yuanxun answered in a voice so low it seemed he might drift off any second. “The estate’s embroiderer. About half the clothes I wear bear her needlework.”
Gu Lianzhao pressed, “Just an ordinary embroiderer?”
Liu Yuanxun gave a soft hum of affirmation.
Gu Lianzhao let out an almost inaudible sigh and fell silent.
From any angle, Liu Yuanxun was an impeccable good man.
He not only remembered the names of the estate’s servants but also inquired after their family matters. He gave them bonuses during festivals, and even upon leaving, they received a few taels as severance.
Anyone who encountered such a master would count themselves extraordinarily fortunate.
Yet it was precisely this fortune that made him so hard to let go of—and impossible to truly hold onto.
“Prince…” Gu Lianzhao called to him softly.
It took Liu Yuanxun a long moment to mumble a vague response.
“Have you ever liked anyone?” Gu Lianzhao asked.
There was no reply from Liu Yuanxun. Gu Lianzhao lowered his gaze to the pale wrist in his hand, listening to the steady breaths beside his ear. He didn’t need to look up to know Liu Yuanxun had fallen fast asleep.
One hand still gripping Liu Yuanxun’s wrist, his other unconsciously reached for the dagger at his waist—only to touch a looped jade pendant instead, the one he’d just “tricked” off Liu Yuanxun.
He didn’t touch him further, merely caressing the jade gently.
As he stroked it, he thought of Liu Yuanxun’s skin—such a similar feel, equally smooth and cool, though Liu Yuanxun’s body was far softer.
A man made of jade should be enshrined high above, gazing down upon the world, bestowing his selfless kindness equally on all.
Liu Yuanxun wasn’t suited to being monopolized, for his boundless love would drive mad anyone who sought to possess him.
Yet Gu Lianzhao wanted him all to himself. He felt that only once the people and things of this world truly belonged to him could he give his heart without reservation.
Gu Lianzhao’s gaze dropped, his heart churning with irritation, while the man on the bed remained oblivious, sleeping more deeply by the minute.
His true qi stirred Liu Yuanxun’s blood and qi, bringing a faint flush to his cheeks. With his body warmed, Gu Lianzhao’s pull lessened. Liu Yuanxun shifted slightly a couple of times, each movement away from Gu Lianzhao.
A twinge of resentment stirred in Gu Lianzhao’s heart. He ran only three small heavenly cycles before withdrawing his hand. Then he watched coldly as the blush faded from Liu Yuanxun’s face, and the cold-fearing man scooted back into his embrace.
Gu Lianzhao sat sideways on the bed’s edge, letting Liu Yuanxun’s face rest toward his thigh. His long black hair spilled across the bed, and Gu Lianzhao picked up the strands, combing them slowly from root to tip.
Ling Ting entered just in time to witness the scene.
The atmosphere around the bed was too idyllic. Liu Yuanxun lay curled quietly at Gu Lianzhao’s side, face turned toward him, his sleeping expression serene and peaceful.
Gu Lianzhao sat casually on the edge, his broad shoulders and long legs relaxed, one hand stroking Liu Yuanxun’s long hair as if petting an elegant, luxurious cat.
Steam rose from the hot water basin in Ling Ting’s hands, but his heart grew colder inch by inch.
No matter how many times he saw such a sight, no matter how much mental preparation he’d made, he couldn’t stay calm the instant it hit him.
By the usual routine, once Liu Yuanxun was asleep, Ling Ting would lay out a cloth, gently wipe his face and neck, then wash and massage his feet to circulate blood in his lower body. Only after tending to him thoroughly would Ling Ting retire to the next room.
But now, with an attendant consort at Liu Yuanxun’s side, those tasks were no longer his to decide.
He kept his eyes down, away from the bed, and said softly, “Since the prince is asleep, I won’t disturb him.”
Gu Lianzhao glanced at him impassively. “Whenever the prince slept before, didn’t you always prepare a cloth to wipe him down? Why today, of all days, are you suddenly so concerned about letting him rest?”
Ling Ting stiffened, at a loss for a reply.
Gu Lianzhao wasn’t in a hurry. He merely continued stroking Liu Yuanxun’s hair, drawing him a bit closer to his thigh.
Over the past month, Liu Yuanxun had grown accustomed to his scent and didn’t resist the proximity. He merely tucked his neck in obediently and slept on soundly.
With three people in the room, anyone could see that Ling Ting was the odd one out.
Ling Ting swallowed his bitterness, set the copper basin of hot water on the nearby stand, and murmured, “Then… I’ll leave it to Lord Gu.”
Gu Lianzhao acknowledged him with a sound but didn’t move, his eyes fixed on Ling Ting until he passed behind the screen. Only then did Gu Lianzhao rise, shed his outer clothes and trousers, and grab a towel from beside the basin. He soaked and wrung it out.
Without the warmth, Liu Yuanxun burrowed into the bedding. In the brief moment Gu Lianzhao stepped away, only a crown of black hair remained peeking out.
The sight of him greedily seeking heat yet fearing the cold brought a faint smile to Gu Lianzhao’s lips—but thinking of the true reason for that fear, the smile faded.
He parted Liu Yuanxun’s undergarment, exposing his frail, pale chest. A chill touched his skin, furrowing Liu Yuanxun’s brow in discomfort, but soon he was enveloped in a warm embrace.
The warm cloth gently wiped across his face, then trailed down his jade-like neck. Though Gu Lianzhao was doing nothing improper through the cloth, touching his skin like this set his heart racing, his control over his strength slipping.
A slight prick of discomfort roused Liu Yuanxun. He blinked his eyes open in confusion, forcing himself to focus on the figure before him. In the flickering lamplight, he saw it was Gu Lianzhao tending to him.
Accustomed to such service, in his half-awake haze, he couldn’t distinguish between Gu Lianzhao and Ling Ting. So he simply murmured softly, “A’Qiao…”
Aren’t you going to sleep yet?
That was what he’d meant to ask.
But he was far too exhausted—waking at all was a surprise. After uttering the name, he closed his eyes again, feeling nothing but cozy warmth and bliss.
That single call, however, set Gu Lianzhao on edge.
Normally, Liu Yuanxun lay on the bed with eyes shut, like a jade doll without sensation. Touching or kissing him felt like toying with an exquisite plaything.
Gu Lianzhao had thought that was enough.
But just as he lay content, reveling in the exquisite pleasure of cradling the Profound Moon in his arms, Liu Yuanxun suddenly opened his eyes and called out to him.
That single call raised the bar on his enjoyment even higher. All at once, he realized that toying with an insensate doll was no fun at all. No, he wanted him to open his eyes, to gaze right at him and see clearly who it was that held him close and kissed him. He wanted to hear that soft voice call out his own name…
Now this was the true taste of heaven on earth.
