Chapter 30

After the world spun around her, Qingwu clutched his neck tightly. Her body trembled slightly as they pressed together, yet she feigned composure and asked, "What are you doing?"

Pei Muci’s face bloomed with a smile. His thin lips curved upward as he leaned into her ear, whispering seductively, "Physician Du said Your Highness has a knot of frustration in your heart that needs to be eased."

"Is this how you intend to ease it?" Qingwu looked toward the window. In the broad daylight, she felt it was somewhat improper.

"Your Highness." Pei Muci spoke as if he had been fed a potent decoction. He firmly gripped her chin, his tone light and indifferent, "Do you want it?"

His usual tone was devoid of inflection, bordering on cold. But at this moment, his voice sounded as if it were being pulled by a heavy force—hoarse, carrying an undisguised longing.

Qingwu’s blood rushed to her head. For the moment, she could not spare a thought for anything else; her breathing quickened in time with her heartbeat. She wanted to close her legs to ward off the shameful, ticklish itch, but her mind was filled with the sight of him lowering himself so willingly. The yearning in her heart was like a sluice gate opening for spring waters. In this situation, she kept warning herself to keep her wits about her, not to let her head be turned by his beauty.

Unfortunately, it was of little use. She shifted her legs from his waist, granting him space to move.

Pei Muci understood her intention. Supporting her waist with one hand, he tore off his outer robe, revealing the silk fabric that clung to his frame.

Qingwu was dissatisfied, staring at him.

Pei Muci lifted his knee to support her and continued to remove his inner garment. Qingwu finally curved her lips into a cunning arc of triumph, breaking into a laugh through her tears.

Pei Muci’s fingertips moved downward, feeling for the sash at her waist, and with a light flick, he untied it. "Let this servant serve Your Highness, shall I?"

He lifted her with ease, tossed her onto the bed with measured force, and buried his face against her. Her pale pink silk gown lay discarded by the bedside. Pei Muci raised his head, licking the moisture from his lips. "Is Your Highness afraid?"

Qingwu rested a foot on his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to lean in and kiss her. She shook violently. Pei Muci turned his face, the corners of his eyes lifting. *With just this much, how could you dare to tease me every day?*

Qingwu lay on the bed, limbs limp, a puddle of water, her eyes rimmed with a wine-red mist. She pursed her lips, finding it hard to speak. If she told him she had been plagued by a dream for so long, would she seem overly dramatic? Moreover, Pei Muci’s movements were far more gentle and attentive than in her dreams; why was she still afraid?

"Let me catch my breath!" Qingwu gritted her teeth, grinding them together.

Pei Muci let out a low, husky laugh. From the pile of wrinkled clothes on the floor, he pulled out a strip of purple smoke-green silk, stretching it between his palms. Whether intentional or not, the scene before her gradually merged with her dream.

Qingwu’s upper body spasmed, beyond her control.

Pei Muci knelt halfway before her. Seeming to understand her fear, he rubbed her cheek comfortingly. Then, with the webbing of his hands, he held the silk ribbon and blindfolded himself. His vision was not entirely blocked; through the paper-thin fabric, he could still discern the faint, graceful contours of her form.

Qingwu was stunned, her gaze filled with confusion as she sat up to face him. Pei Muci kept his head bowed, wrapping the remaining ends around his wrists. He caught the other end of the silk with his teeth and gave a sharp tug. With a beautiful, tight knot, he bound his own hands before his chest, trapping himself within Qingwu’s line of sight.

Time stood still for a few seconds. A warmth rose in Qingwu’s heart—a mixture of shock and profound disbelief.

Pei Muci tilted his head and smiled, a charm about him that was entirely different from his usual demeanor. He fumbled for Qingwu’s forearm and pressed the remaining length of the silk into her palm. As she gripped it in confusion, he gave the ribbon a slight tug and fell back onto the edge of the couch. The silk snapped taut, pulling her downward, and she collapsed onto him, caught off guard.

Their distance vanished, and her body heat began to warm him. Pei Muci’s voice sounded as if it had been polished by sandpaper, the trailing notes like a feather brushing against her palm.

"Whatever you wish to do, it is all up to Your Highness."

—

*What did she want to do?*

Qingwu asked herself. She had imagined many scenarios, but when it came to this moment, she was at a loss. Pei Muci’s hands were self-bound, and the silk covering his eyes, along with his cascading black hair, lay scattered across the bed. He looked like an exquisite dish laid out before her.

Qingwu’s face burned like fire; for a moment, she had no idea what to do. The previous attendants only knew how to serve her comfort; none had ever dared to go this far, and she had only ever seen such things in the messy, illicit picture books of the common folk. What should she do?

Pei Muci lay back with a smile, gently biting his lower lip.

Qingwu suddenly remembered how he had looked just moments ago, raising his head from between her legs. How could he remain so calm and composed? He was clearly the lamb waiting to be slaughtered, yet why did he bear the air of a condescending master?

...

Qingwu gritted her teeth and shakily lifted herself up. "Your Highness—" Pei Muci began to protest, but she covered his mouth.

"Don't speak."

As a warm surge flowed out, she scrambled to steady herself, letting out a breath. Then, she pressed down, feeling quite lost. She didn't know what to do—lift herself up or sit down? After a moment of trial, she pulled away. She rejected the first thought; it was too painful...

A strange light flashed in Pei Muci’s eyes, though he quickly suppressed it.

Qingwu was not satisfied. Supporting herself on his shoulders, she changed her angle, attempting the second way. The folds were stretched slightly open, and Pei Muci bit his back teeth, his bound wrists rubbing against each other. But the warmth soon vanished, and Qingwu’s eyes filled with moisture.

*It’s no use...*

Pei Muci’s brow twitched. The steady, unwavering smile on his face began to fade, and a deep, dark glow rose in his eyes; clearly, he was not faring much better.

Qingwu sat on his lower abdomen to catch her breath, even leaning down thoughtfully to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. This action acted like a signal, releasing a beast she could not handle.

"Your Highness." Pei Muci pulled the binding to its maximum, hooking her legs and pulling them toward his face.

Qingwu wanted to try again, but she could not overcome his strength. "What are you doing?" she asked, bewildered.

Pei Muci licked his lips, as if his previous loss of composure had never happened. "Sit down here, toward me."

Qingwu’s brain hummed, and she chose to obey in her confusion. After a while, the sound of a stream washing over stones filled the room. Qingwu wanted to pull away from his face, yet she also wanted to draw closer. His agile tongue moved wantonly. After a few rounds, Qingwu shifted forward, her waist collapsing against him, trembling incessantly.

Pei Muci did not give her time to recover. He lifted her with both hands, helping her complete the motion she had left unfinished. The hands supporting her waist slowly relaxed. She knelt on the sheets, sinking down bit by bit.

As they became fully joined, Qingwu felt like she might cry out. She felt like a soft sponge, being molded into various shapes by Pei Muci. Later on, the silk that had bound his hands somehow ended up on her wrists. She was pinned firmly against the bedpost, her strength entirely sapped.

At first, Pei Muci let her hold his forearms, but later he hooked her legs into the crooks of his arms. With her feet off the ground, Qingwu could only cling to his shoulders, like a lone boat in the ocean, tossed high by the waves and then cast down.

"Your Highness, is this okay?"

She heard him ask, though she didn't know what was or wasn't okay. In the throes of the collision, she nodded in a daze.

Pei Muci let out a low growl. A white-hot, nearly torrential rush flooded her consciousness, clashing with the flow of moisture within her body, pushing them both to the ultimate peak.

But he did not stop.

"Pei Muci." She was knocked to the clouds, her voice trembling.

He allowed her to return to reality, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

"Your Highness, call me Yuanxi." Pei Muci tilted his head slightly.

"Hm?" She was being stirred to the point of ecstasy, drifting toward the heavens.

"It is my courtesy name."

She could not stand; her body kept sliding downward. He filled her once more and held her, placing her on the couch. The intricately tied bow was dampened by sweat. She no longer had any other sensation, only soft, involuntary sobs and pleas for mercy spilling from her lips.

—

Pei Muci, fearing he had been too rough, held her in his arms after he was satisfied, letting her catch her breath.

"No... no more." Qingwu buried her head in the crook of his neck, shy as an ostrich hiding in the sand, her arms pushing against him weakly.

Pei Muci smoothed her long hair and bit her ear, "I will take Your Highness to bathe."

He dressed simply, wrapped her in fox fur, and placed her in the bathtub prepared in the washroom. Her stiff joints were lubricated by the warm water, and Qingwu, submerged to her shoulders, grew drowsy with exhaustion.

Pei Muci washed her clean with the hot water kept by the tub, then climbed in wearing his long shirt to help her clean. Even though he had taken medicine, it was uncomfortable to have those things left inside her.

"Don't move," Qingwu muttered, as if talking in her sleep.

The wide, gold-trimmed hem of his robe floated on the surface, concealing his renewed hardness.

"Shall Your Highness do it herself?" Pei Muci asked, but seeing her head tilted against the side of the tub, she had likely already met the God of Dreams.

He suddenly chuckled, finished cleaning her, and gently carried her out of the water.

Qingwu felt her body suddenly lift into the air and opened her eyes nervously, clutching his collar. His eyes were clear; the previous passion had long since faded, but his tone remained hoarse, as if polished by grit.

"Is Your Highness satisfied?"

Qingwu felt a burst of annoyance, though her tone remained light. "Pei Muci!"

He lowered his head in response, and her momentum instantly faltered. "You are shameless!"

—

Pei Muci wrapped her in a bath towel and brought her back to the bed. Qingwu squinted in a daze, letting him dress her in her nightclothes and silk socks, and comfortably burrowed into the silk quilt.

"I want to go out tomorrow morning," Pei Muci said, tucking in the corners of the quilt and untying the canopy curtain.

"Where to?" Qingwu asked vaguely, unwilling to open her eyes.

"The things I ordered at the Red Jade Pavilion should be ready. I’m going to pick them up."

Qingwu heard that he had reverted to his original way of referring to himself, and she blushed for no reason. "Just have Hanyue bring them back."

"I’m not sure if they were made the way I wanted; I’d better go myself."

Hearing his honest explanation, Qingwu didn't think too much of it. "I heard that the Southern Border went to war the day I left the palace. The times are not peaceful; I will go with you."

"Then we shall decide tomorrow when Your Highness wakes up." Pei Muci extinguished most of the candles and walked out.

"Where are you going?" Qingwu propped herself up, the thin quilt clinging to her graceful form.

"To the side hall to wait for the Princess to wake."

Qingwu: ???

Did she look like such a cold-hearted, ungrateful person who would cast aside her companion once the work was done? She frowned, threw off the quilt, and patted the bed. "Is such a spacious place not big enough for you to sleep?"

Pei Muci’s heart raced, though he kept his face calm. He obediently sat on the edge of the bed and lay down straight. He stayed close to the edge, a position where he would fall off if he turned over. There was a distance between them, yet an invisible current of warmth flowed.

In the end, Qingwu could not hold out. She crawled over and draped her arm over his abdomen, her palm brushing against the layers of cotton.

"Don't you take off your clothes when you sleep?"

Pei Muci did not move or speak, placing his head on the other side of the pillow. Qingwu poked his shoulder in dissatisfaction, turning him over so they could lie together. The new wound on his shoulder felt as if it had been licked by a small animal, causing his brow to twitch. He turned his face to meet a pair of spirited, beautiful eyes.

Where was any trace of sleepiness left?

Pei Muci sighed, loosened his collar, and took off the outer robe he had just put on. He stared straight ahead as the robe slid down, revealing his collarbone and lean waist. The undulating lines of his slender, muscular frame gave every movement of his an attractive aesthetic.

Qingwu’s gaze drifted downward involuntarily, but when she saw a certain place, she shifted her eyes away, her gaze darting around in a panic. She defensively reached out to touch his shoulder, where a circle of bite marks had just scabbed over, glowing a faint pink. As she touched them, a sliver of pity welled up in her heart.

Driven by an impulse, she sat up and kissed the most jagged scar beneath her fingers.

Pei Muci’s breath hitched; his body tensed at her touch.

"If Your Highness continues like this, you may not be able to get out of bed tomorrow."

Qingwu’s head paused as she understood his meaning, and she instantly fell back onto the bed as if all her strength had been drained. "Go to sleep."

Her head tilted to the other side, revealing a piece of delectable jade-like neck. Looking up, one could see her eyelashes trembling like morning dew, as if she had been bullied mercilessly.

Pei Muci pinched his palm, trying to shake the lascivious images from his mind. Those soft, whimpering moans carried a tone of surrender, lingering in his ears, wave after wave shattering the restraint he had held for so long. He, who had never cared much for physical appetites, felt a tinge of hunger.

After a long while, hearing no movement, Qingwu opened her eyes and peeked toward his direction, only to find their eyes meeting instantly.

Before she could react, his body heat, filled with irritation, completely overwhelmed her, trapping her in his confinement. Qingwu’s vision was filled with his taut, muscular physique, and she didn't know what possessed her, but she instinctively covered his lips.

Pei Muci let out a low, muffled laugh. One hand supported him beside her, while the other went to seek and explore. The skirt sash he had just tied was undone by his fingertips once more.

Qingwu was driven to distraction by his teasing, her raised arms trembling uncontrollably. He turned his head in the gap, his soft lips gently catching her fingertips. Then, he bit down slowly, the grinding force just right.

Pei Muci’s voice was cool, carrying uneven breaths, full of temptation.

"This time, this servant will make Your Highness cry."

Qingwu hummed out unconsciously. When she lay limp in exhaustion, Pei Muci continued tirelessly to turn her world upside down.

"Pei Yuanxi, you scoundrel—"

Her vision went black, and her irregular, whimpering cries were all blocked by his lustful kisses. Pei Muci grabbed her taut wrists, leading her downward, making her feel the place where they were joined as one.

"This servant is here."