Chi Ying was trembling all over, her voice nearly failing her. “Your… Your Highness, are you unwell? I will call someone to fetch a physician…”

Yan Xuecuī opened his eyes at that moment. Bloodshot veins spiderwebbed across those once-grey and hollow pupils. He looked like a trapped beast, filled with a restless irritability and a malevolence suppressed to its absolute limit.

There was also something else in his gaze that Chi Ying couldn’t decipher—something that looked like a desperate craving.

She didn’t know if this was a precursor to madness. Perhaps Prince Zhao truly was the violent, unpredictable lunatic the rumors claimed.

Ignoring the pain in her wrist, Chi Ying was about to cry out for Auntie Fangchun, but the man suddenly loosened his grip. His voice was weary and raspy. “Do not call anyone in.”

The sound was like soft snow falling against a silk screen, possessing a brittle, fragmented quality that strangely managed to dispel a fraction of her terror.

“Your Highness, you…”

Yan Xuecuī closed his eyes, slowly forcing himself to calm down.

He had initially believed he wouldn’t be easily moved by this woman. Yet, when she lay beside his pillow, her warm, steady breath spiraling into his ears and her tranquil neroli fragrance filling his senses, the restlessness in his blood became nearly impossible to restrain—especially when she was so close, yet untouched.

The moment his fingertips gripped the warm skin of her wrist, the uncontrollable thirst beneath his flesh was slowly soothed. Light began to pour into the dark, hollow territory of his mind, filling his barren senses.

But the craving in his heart was like a desolate canyon; every nerve was screaming for more.

After a long silence, he heard his own voice, thick with unrestrained desire. “Forgive me… Can I hold you for a moment?”

Chi Ying froze, her heart seemingly skipping a beat.

Hold… hold him for a moment?

Was it meant literally, or was he changing his mind about the consummation?

Yan Xuecuī clearly sensed the girl’s hesitation. A self-mocking smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I heard that when the imperial decree first arrived at your estate, you were unwilling to marry me. You even proclaimed you would ‘rather die than marry.’ It is no wonder you are reluctant to be close to me. I do not blame you; it is I who am forcing the impossible.”

Chi Ying’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. A chill rushed up her spine.

Given Chi Yingyue’s personality, she likely had said such things. But now that she had usurped her sister’s identity, she had to provide an explanation. Otherwise, that phrase “rather die than marry” was enough to convict her of the crime of insubordination.

Realizing this, Chi Ying’s back was slick with cold sweat. Her legs went weak, and she nearly slid off the bed to kneel and beg for mercy, but her wrist was still caught in his immovable grip.

Chi Ying had no choice but to brace herself and explain. “Your Highness, this concubine was listening to baseless gossip that day. I did not know Your Highness was such a man of noble grace. I was confused for a moment and perhaps said some foolish things, but I never intended any disrespect. Having been carefully taught by my parents, I have long regretted my past actions and changed my ways. Now that I am married to Your Highness, my heart is naturally tied to you. I respect you, I adore you… my heart and eyes hold only you. I beg Your Highness for forgiveness…”

She broke into tears, her voice trembling so violently it was clear she was terrified to her core.

If anyone else had spoken such words of repentance before him, he would have found it incredibly grating. He would have wanted to snap their neck just to stop the noise.

Yet, her voice was soft and clear, like a spring flowing over barren land—a silent, nourishing presence. It actually made him want to keep listening.

Just as it had been at the dinner table today; she didn’t know his rules and had tirelessly introduced every dish to him. He hadn’t found it annoying; instead, he had found it profoundly soothing.

Yan Xuecuī toyed with the slender, delicate wrist in his hand, thinking of the hidden guard’s report.

For the past two or three years, Madam Yin had been searching for a suitor for her daughter. She frequently took her out to banquets and gatherings hosted by the noble ladies of the capital, intending to choose a son-in-law from a high-ranking family.

Later, when Emperor Yongcheng was selecting consorts for the princes, this girl from a declining Marquis estate wasn’t high-ranking enough to be a primary consort, but she was more than qualified to be a side consort. Thus, she was on the list.

The palace scouts had reported that when Emperor Yongcheng made the final decision on the Princess Consort for Prince Zhao, the Empress and Consort Li were both present. Someone must have been pushing things behind the scenes.

The Emperor likely considered that because he was blind, a daughter of a prominent family would be “wronged” by the marriage. A legitimate daughter of a minor Marquis was a perfect choice.

Compared to the other princesses who came from prestigious clans, the Marquis of Changyuan’s estate was weak. Chi Mingxiang currently served only as a rank 5b official—a Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial. He offered no political benefit to Prince Zhao. This choice suited the other consorts and princes perfectly.

The Empress had no sons of her own, but it was highly likely that Consort Li had plotted for her son, Prince Xuan, to dump the least significant girl on him.

Training and mental preparation usually happened in the months before the wedding. That would explain why Chi Yingyue’s temperament changed so drastically after the marriage. She must be carrying a mission, plotting carefully in secret.

The only thing he couldn’t figure out was how Consort Li or Prince Xuan, Yan Yunshēn, had managed to train a woman whose voice and touch were so perfectly suited to his specific tastes.

He hadn’t even known what kind of woman he liked until now. It was truly intriguing.

Yan Xuecuī let out a light chuckle. “The Princess is being too serious. If I wanted to pursue the matter of your past comments, why would I wait until tonight?”

Chi Ying: “…”

He’s the one who brought it up just to play both sides.

This man was always like this—appearing gentle and easy-going, yet his words were always laced with hidden edges that caught her off guard.

She was now in a dilemma. Her wrist was pinned by him; while the grip wasn’t heavy, she couldn’t break free. Nor did she dare to, as that would only confirm her rejection and loathing of him.

Yan Xuecuī let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, his voice thick with a distinct rasp. “My old illness flared up just now. Did I scare you?”

Chi Ying asked immediately, “What old illness is it, Your Highness? Do I need to call Physician Lin?”

“It is no matter,” Yan Xuecuī replied. “I am used to it.”

He called it an “old illness,” and perhaps it could be considered a disease.

Physician Lin had once mentioned a favored consort of the late Emperor. She was deeply loved and often served as his “red sleeves adding incense” companion. However, because she monopolized the Emperor’s time, she drew the jealousy of the harem. After being framed and losing the Emperor’s favor, she spent her nights alone and eventually developed a form of madness.

Lin had read those medical records and remembered them well. The consort had confessed she didn’t intend to monopolize favor, but she had an extreme craving for the Emperor’s embrace and touch. Even half a day apart filled her with intense anxiety and restlessness.

Initially, the late Emperor was enamored with her, but the affairs of state were heavy, and he couldn’t stay in the harem forever. Her desire grew into a toxic craving. When the favor finally vanished, she wept every night and could not sleep, eventually succumbing to her madness and dying in misery.

Yan Xuecuī sensed that his symptoms were very similar to that consort’s.

With his emotions dysregulated for so long, his mental state was deteriorating. He knew he had a shameful desire deep in his heart—a craving for warmth, for someone to be by his side.

But as a prince, he had faced nothing but endless struggle and betrayal since birth. Before the cold dragon throne, there was no such thing as family or brotherhood. He felt only suspicion and loathing for everything around him.

Physician Lin had even dared to suggest he find a woman he liked to take to his bed, but he felt a physiological loathing for the women who schemed to climb into his bed for favor.

Only before this woman could he not restrain the craving growing in his blood. He actually felt the urge to be close to her.

Seeing the sweat on the man’s forehead, Chi Ying hurriedly used her handkerchief to wipe it away.

Since he refused the physician, she asked tentatively, “Is there anything this concubine can do for Your Highness?”

Yan Xuecuī pursed his lips, appearing exhausted, and did not answer.

Chi Ying suddenly remembered his request to “hold him for a moment.” Could that really be the cure?

Though she was unwilling to be intimate, she knew in her heart that if he, the mighty Prince Zhao, truly wanted to take her by force, she would have no way to escape.

Furthermore, seeing him struggle with such restraint—the way he gripped her wrist without further violation—and having just sworn to “adore and admire” him…

Thinking of this, Chi Ying felt even more embarrassed. But after hesitating over and over, she finally leaned down and gently wrapped her arms around the man’s waist.

In that instant, she clearly felt his body shudder.

Her heart began to race. She instinctively tried to pull back, thinking she should just let go, but a heavy weight suddenly pressed against her lower back. The man tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her into his embrace.

Chi Ying’s mind went blank. She was caught in his arms before she could react.

The man’s breath was heavy and hot. Even through their relatively thick sleepwear, she could clearly feel the violent rise and fall of his chest. A searing heat surged between them.

Chi Ying’s face was beet-red. Her whole body was rigid. Every breath she took was accompanied by a heartbeat as loud as a drum.

Pressed against his overly firm and powerful chest, she didn’t know where to put her hands or feet. She could only grip the quilt tightly. The position was incredibly uncomfortable, and the heat made it hard to breathe. She tried to shift slightly.

The man seemed to realize this and slightly loosened his grip. Sensing a small gap, Chi Ying thought he no longer needed her and let out a secret sigh of relief. But as she moved to pull away, his hand suddenly pinned her shoulder. Before she could react, his heavy, burning body flipped over, hovering above her.

Chi Ying’s rigid back hit the mattress. Her long, thick eyelashes trembled uncontrollably.

The man buried his face in the curve of her neck. His hot, rapid breaths fell against her ear, sending shivers through her entire body and turning her limbs to water.

NOTES

Honey Trap (美人计 – Meirenji): A scheme using a beautiful woman to entrap a man.

Red sleeves adding incense (红袖添香 – Hongxiu Tianxiang): A romanticized image of a beautiful woman keeping a scholar company while he studies.

Footnotes:

Red sleeves adding incense (红袖添香): A classical literary trope representing the ideal companion for a cultured man.

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