Heavy drapes enclosed the bed, creating a secluded, intimate space where a man and a woman sat facing each other, the air thick with unspoken tension.
In the dim, flickering light, Xu Qingzhao, fresh from her bath, seemed to glow. Her skin was flawless, her form tantalizingly visible through the sheer silk of her robe, exuding a potent, almost dangerous allure.
Confronted with such devastating beauty in such a charged setting, under normal circumstances, Ren Ye's instincts would have roared to life, urging him to action. But when he met Xu Qingzhao's cool, detached eyes and the mocking curve of her lips, all base excitement vanished, replaced by sharp wariness.
"Heh. What does my beloved Consort mean?" Ren Ye's voice was a careful blend of confusion and princely authority, belying the internal panic screaming in his head (I'm freaking out!). "What… what 'Heaven's Pardon Destined' individual?"
He had no idea how she knew his secret—that he was the one bearing this celestial fate, or that the Guardian Sword had chosen him anew. But one thing was clear: he couldn't show fear. She might be fishing.
His performance was flawless, his gaze steady and innocent. Even Morgan Freeman would have seemed theatrical next to him.
Xu Qingzhao studied him. "In the throne room," she said softly, "Historiographer Liu Quan pushed you so far. I gave you the means to retaliate. Why didn't you kill him? A prince of the realm… do you lack even that much spine?" She's looking down on me, folks!
Ren Ye offered a lazy smile. "My experience tells me killing recklessly has consequences. Sometimes, not killing is the greater threat. A dead man is a closed book. A living one… remains an uncertainty."
A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes before she pressed on. "I need the help of the Heaven's Pardon Destined one."
"Beloved Consort, where might this individual be? This prince could aid your search…!" Ren Ye's eyes oozed performative devotion, playing the simping fool perfectly.
"Heh." Xu Qingzhao was done with games. "Whether it's you or not… a simple test will reveal the truth."
A test? She can confirm it?!
Dread spiked in Ren Ye's gut, cold and sharp, like a condemned man facing a polygraph.
"Heaven's Pardon Qi, feed my balance of Yin and Yang. Array, rise!" Xu Qingzhao's eyes slid shut, her jade-like hands weaving a complex seal as she whispered an incantation.
Whoosh!
A brilliant light erupted from the bed. Intricate glowing patterns materialized beneath them, and shimmering walls of energy rose on all sides, sealing the small space off from the outside world.
"Consort, what are you doing?!" Ren Ye moved fast, lunging to subdue her, to show his 'technical prowess.'
BOOM!
An impact, like lightning to his skull, shattered his thoughts into white noise. Simultaneously, an indescribable, overwhelming pleasure surged through his veins, wiping all resistance away.
Consciousness faded. Ren Ye's mind floated, empty and serene. He felt untethered, his soul adrift in a monochrome void.
On the bed, seated in meditation, a phantom image shimmered into existence behind Xu Qingzhao—an ethereal double, identical but for its stark black Daoist robes and lotus crown. Its expression was cold, detached, like a deity gazing down on mortal folly. In stark contrast, her physical body sat flushed and glistening, skin glowing pink as if from exertion.
Ren Ye, close beside her, grew still, his face a mask of ecstatic surrender.
Fine, silvery strands of light began to seep from his pores, weaving through the air like gossamer threads towards the phantom behind her.
Drip.
A single drop of sweat fell, shattering on the bedsheet.
As the light was drawn out, Ren Ye's face paled. Steam rose from his skin, sheened in sweat, yet the look of supreme pleasure never wavered.
…
About an hour later, a weak voice emerged from behind the drapes. "Be… beloved Consort… what did you do to me?"
"Nothing that will kill you."
"If it won't kill me… then… again?" The words were a slurred, instinctual response to the fading echoes of pleasure.
"Again would kill you," she replied, her voice dripping with the impatience of a user dismissing a drained resource.
"I'm not afraid!" Ren Ye insisted stubbornly.
"Get out."
Thump!
Ren Ye stumbled out, clothes disheveled, leaning heavily on the wall for support.
A familiar, coldly mechanical voice echoed in his ears:
[Danger Warning: Unknown event has occurred. You feel drained. Extremely weak.]
No shit? You think?
Do I need a system to tell me I feel like death warmed over?
Bent over a table like a shrimp, wiping sweat from his brow, Ren Ye couldn't help but replay the experience. The afterglow was potent, addictive. Mortal life was short, perspectives narrow, trapped by daily grind and fear of decay. But in that monochrome chaos, his spirit unshackled and nourbled by dual energies… he had felt his mind expand, his thoughts purify, viewing existence from a higher plane. It was a purely spiritual euphoria, a superior high, utterly divorced from base physicality.
Of course, part of him still wanted the 'base physicality.' But… current circumstances (and his drained condition) strictly forbade it. He wasn't naive enough to think anything physical had actually happened with Xu Qingzhao. It was, at most, a resonance of souls. No actual contact, let alone… penetration.
Now, he understood her earlier defense in the throne room. She didn't care about him; she craved what he was. She was siphoning the unique energy of his Destiny—this 'Heaven's Pardon Qi' he couldn't feel but knew was real, thanks to the Sword. The bath, the seduction… it was all just convenient packaging for the extraction.
"Huuu~!" After a long moment, still feeling profoundly hollowed out, Ren Ye exhaled heavily and collapsed into a chair, wearing only his underwear.
Soon, the drapes parted. Xu Qingzhao had changed into a conservative white Daoist robe, her hair tightly bound. She sat primly on the bed. With a flick of her wrist, Ren Ye's clothes flew onto the table. "Get dressed."
Ren Ye took a sip of tea, eyeing her boldly. "I prefer straightforward talk."
"…!" The aloof Consort remained silent.
"Don't you have anything to say to me?" After a long wait, Ren Ye muttered internally, "This behavior, where I'm from, we call it 'whitelisting'—and it's highly unethical."
Xu Qingzhao looked at him. "Come to me each day after 7 PM for one hour," she said幽然 (softly). "In return, provided you or your people don't seek death foolishly, I may offer… appropriate support."
Every day? Who could withstand that? Fear warred with a thrilling excitement within him.
"I have no interest in court politics or power struggles," she added. "You need not fear me. Your life… holds no interest for me either." It was a reassurance, of sorts. She needed him alive and functional for her daily… sessions. But Ren Ye, naturally cautious, wasn't fooled by beauty or vague promises. He was on guard, yet powerless against her abilities for now.
Time to negotiate. "What kind of support? Can you help me eliminate the Chief Secretary?"
"No. I will not involve myself in court strife."
So, empty promises then?
"Could the Consort provide me with some means of protection? Divine weapons? Secret manuals? The kind you master instantly?"
Xu Qingzhao shook her head gently. "There are no instant manuals. The tools I use are beyond you."
Ren Ye stood, paced the room, then smiled. "Then, how about this: tell me one thing, right now, that is crucial to my survival. If I'm satisfied, we have a deal."
Surprise flickered in her eyes. "You are certainly not the Zhu Zigui of old."
"It makes no difference," Ren Ye countered, searching her eyes for any tell, and finding none.
"Who you are is irrelevant to me. We are not the same." She sighed faintly. "Very well. Tell me, why do you think the Emperor hasn't killed you yet?"
Ren Ye smirked, feigning arrogance. "Heh. Isn't he afraid of the scandal? Killing his own brother and then his nephew?"
"He killed your father. The hatred between you is irreconcilable. Even if you are a wastrel, a threat of rebellion remains. Your father was benevolent, a military leader who could inspire loyalty. For an Emperor, potential crises must be nipped in the bud. A scandal is a small price! Historians are, after all, officials of Da Qian—they kneel in court and hail his name." Her voice was crisp. "Even a stained legacy means little compared to a stable empire."
"You mean… the Emperor has a use for me, too? Or… he shares your goal? Related to the Heaven's Pardon Destiny?"
"Adequately clever." Her eyes gleamed. "Are you satisfied?"
"Satisfied." His theory confirmed, Ren Ye didn't push further. "I agree. One hour a day for your use."
A faint purple light shimmered around Xu Qingzhao's arm. A translucent talisman, intricately carved and tied with a red cord, appeared on the tea table.
"What's this?"
"A Talisman of Serenity. After our daily session, your Heaven's Pardon Qi will be diminished, your Yang energy weak. You will be vulnerable to… unclean influences. This talisman clears the mind, wards off evil, and breaks illusions cast by malevolent spirits." Ren Ye looked at it, struck by the absurd feeling of a user gifting him a recovery potion after draining him.
"This Prince won't thank you then. Beloved Consort, feel free to choose any pair of underwear you fancy as payment…!" He smoothly pocketed the talisman and gave a mocking fist-and-palm salute.
Xu Qingzhao silently pointed toward the door.
…
Later, Ren Ye returned to his own quarters with Er Leng and Lian'er in tow. The conversation had been a delicate dance of probes and doubts, carefully contained.
His first impression was that Xu Qingzhao seemed utterly detached from everything except her need for his unique energy. She didn't act like a fellow 'player' in this game, nor did she seem entirely like a native of this Star Gate world. It was strange. A facade? His old border anti-fraud instincts told him it wasn't. Veteran detectives could often smell a lie, even a well-performed one. Her aura didn't scream immediate danger, but that didn't mean she was safe. Caution was still required.
"Er Leng, don't forget my… reward," Ren Ye said as they reached his chamber door.
"Yes, Your Highness. Shall I attend you tonight?" Er Leng's voice was a dull rumble.
"You… that won't be necessary…!" Ren Ye turned to Lian'er, a lecherous quip on his lips, when he froze.
As he spoke, his right hand had absently brushed the door frame, checking the seam. The three strands of hair he'd secretly placed there before leaving… were broken.
The Prince's mansion had been a cauldron of hidden strife for years. Who would dare enter his private chambers unauthorized?!
Goosebumps erupted across his skin. He looked sharply at Er Leng, pointing at the door and whispering, "Someone's been inside. They might… still be in there."