Time: The second year of Jinghe, an ordinary afternoon.
Location: The Imperial Study
The Imperial Study was piled high with memorials from across the realm, while cicadas chirped incessantly outside the windows. After dispatching a batch of urgent military dispatches, Gu Lian massaged his throbbing temples and glanced habitually toward the lower seat.
Ai Miao sat behind his exclusive rosewood desk, brows slightly furrowed, completely absorbed in a lengthy proposal regarding the reform of the grain transport system. The stacks of documents beside him nearly engulfed him, and even the freshly brewed pre-rain Longjing tea had grown cold, untouched.
Gu Lian stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat softly.
Ai Miao showed no reaction, his brush scratching rhythmically across the paper.
Gu Lian set down his vermilion brush with slightly more force than necessary, producing a soft thud.
Ai Miao merely instinctively pulled the files closer to himself, not even lifting his head.
Gu Lian's expression darkened. He rose and paced to Ai Miao's desk, his tall figure casting a shadow that finally blocked the light on Ai Miao's desk.
Only then did Ai Miao look up in confusion, his ink-jade eyes still lingering in deep contemplation. "Your Majesty? Is there an urgent matter?" His gaze even tried to peer past Gu Lian, seeking the obstructed document.
Gu Lian was exasperated. He snatched the brush from Ai Miao's hand and flung it onto the brush pile, where it landed with a sharp clatter.
"Ai... Minister," Gu Lian practically gritted out the words, "Can't you see I'm standing right here?"
Ai Miao blinked, as if only now fully emerging from the canal route map. Observing Gu Lian's taut jawline and palpable displeasure, he belatedly realized—His Majesty... seemed angry? Because... he hadn't acknowledged him?
This realization left the usually infallible Duke of Wen'an momentarily flustered. Rising to his feet, he tentatively inquired, "Your Majesty... are you thirsty? Or hungry? This servant will summon attendants at once..."
"I am neither thirsty nor hungry!" Gu Lian cut him off, stepping closer until Ai Miao was nearly trapped between the desk and him. His voice carried hurt and accusation. "I see you spend more time staring at that pile of endless documents than you do looking at me!"
Ai Miao gazed at the handsome face mere inches away, tinged with faint anger, and suddenly a flash of insight struck him. He grasped the crux of the matter. A barely perceptible smile flickered in his eyes, yet his expression remained deferential. "Your Majesty, please calm your anger. It is this servant's fault." He readily admitted his fault, his voice softening. "But the canal transport system concerns the flow of goods between north and south, the livelihoods of millions of commoners. Your servant dares not be less than diligent."
"The people's livelihoods are important, but I am not?" Gu Lian pressed relentlessly, like a child demanding candy, a stark contrast to his usual image as a decisive and ruthless emperor. He reached out, his fingertips catching a strand of Ai Miao's fallen hair and twining it around his finger. His tone carried a hint of stubbornness. "I command you—now, immediately—to see only me."
Ai Miao's heart instantly melted like spring water. He obediently lifted his eyes, his ink-black gaze reflecting only Gu Lian's figure, focused and tender. He leaned forward slightly, almost able to feel Gu Lian's breath, and murmured, "Your servant obeys." He paused, then added, "In this servant's heart, nothing in the world compares to Your Majesty. But... Your Majesty is a wise ruler and surely understands this servant's desire to ease Your Majesty's burdens."
These words both soothed Gu Lian's mood and cleverly flattered him.
Gu Lian snorted, his expression slightly easing, though still displeased. "Easing my burdens is acceptable, but you cannot completely ignore me." He took Ai Miao's hand, pulling him away from the pile of "annoying" documents, and led him to the soft couch by the window.
"Keep me company for a while. Rest a bit." Gu Lian rested his head on Ai Miao's shoulder, a hint of petulance in his tone. "Those documents aren't going anywhere."
Ai Miao felt the weight on his shoulder and the warmth radiating from the person beside him, a deep calm settling within him. He raised his arm, gently encircling Gu Lian, and replied, "Very well."
Outside the window, cicadas still chirped incessantly, yet within the imperial study, only the quiet intimacy between them remained. As for those transport documents concerning the nation's economy?
Well, let them wait another hour on the desk for now.
Ai Miao leaned obediently against the soft couch, allowing Gu Lian to rest his weight upon him. He thought they would simply stay like this in quiet togetherness for a while longer, until a faint prickling pain touched his shoulder.
"Your Majesty?" Ai Miao tilted his head slightly, only to find Gu Lian buried in the crook of his neck. With a bite neither light nor heavy, he nibbled at that sensitive skin, leaving a clear mark of teeth before gently tracing it with the tip of his tongue.
"This is punishment," Gu Lian's muffled voice came, tinged with self-righteous whimsy. "Punishment for having eyes only for those documents earlier, and none for this Emperor."
Ai Miao felt a faint flush at his ears, a mix of resignation and indulgence as he relaxed his body. "Yes, Your Majesty. I know I was wrong."
Yet Gu Lian's "punishment" was far from over. His hands began to wander restlessly beneath Ai Miao's formal court robes, fingertips carrying a scorching heat as they lingered along the firm curve of his waist.
"Your Majesty..." Ai Miao's breath faltered as he tried to grasp the wandering hand. "This is the Imperial Study..." In broad daylight, with palace attendants and guards stationed outside the doors, this was simply...
"What of the Imperial Study?" Gu Lian lifted his head, his gaze deep and unyielding, brimming with possessive certainty. "My place, my man." He leaned down, pressing Ai Miao into the soft brocade cushions, their breath mingling. "Besides, the Duke of Wen'an handles countless affairs daily. If I don't find ways to be near you, I might never get another chance."
His kiss descended with an unyielding force that silenced all of Ai Miao's unspoken protests. Unlike the tender, lingering kisses of before, this one felt like a branding mark of ownership—urgent and deep, punctuated by a hint of punitive nibbling that swiftly transformed into tender licking when Ai Miao flinched in slight pain.
Ai Miao had initially remained tense, mindful of the sounds outside the door. Yet under Gu Lian's domineering yet tender assault, her rationality gradually dissolved. He closed his eyes, long lashes fluttering lightly. His ink-black gaze grew even more profound through the haze. Finally, he raised his arms to encircle Gu Lian's neck, responding with a clumsy yet resolute kiss.
His response acted like the finest kindling. Gu Lian let out a low gasp, his movements growing more urgent. The priceless canal transport reform proposal had been accidentally swept to the edge of the bed, lying open and forlorn on the floor, yet no one paid it any mind now.
It was unclear how long had passed before the storm subsided.
Ai Miao's breath remained uneven, the corners of his eyes flushed red as he leaned against Gu Lian's chest, his clothes disheveled. Gu Lian held him contentedly, his fingertips idly twirling a sweat-dampened strand of hair.
"Still want to look at those documents?" Gu Lian lowered his head, brushing his nose against Ai Miao's flushed earlobe. His voice carried the lazy contentment after satisfaction, tinged with lingering jealousy.
Ai Miao shot him a feeble glare, but the lingering passion made it utterly devoid of menace, instead seeming like a teasing provocation. He sighed, his voice still slightly hoarse. "Your Majesty... please don't be so reckless. The canal transport matters cannot be delayed..."
"Then let them wait," Gu Lian interrupted imperiously, pulling him closer. "For now, you belong to me."
The tender embrace lingered for a moment, yet Gu Lian seemed unsatisfied. His gaze swept over Ai Miao's flushed ears before settling back on the pile of "culprits"—the mountain of memorials stacked on the desk—a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.
"Speaking of which," Gu Lian released Ai Miao and strolled leisurely to the desk. He casually picked up the top memorial concerning the grain transport system, tapping its stiff cover lightly with his fingertips. "Your Excellency seemed quite engrossed in this very memorial just now..."
Alarm bells chimed faintly in Ai Miao's heart. Meeting Gu Lian's familiar, calculating gaze, he instinctively sensed trouble. "Your Majesty, the grain transport matter is indeed urgent…"
"Urgent matters are naturally urgent," Gu Lian interrupted him, a meaningful curve lifting the corner of his lips. "However, it suddenly occurs to me that these memorials might serve... other purposes besides review."
He held the memorial as he strode back toward Ai Miao, his towering figure radiating an intangible sense of pressure. Under Ai Miao's puzzled gaze, Gu Lian suddenly pressed the memorial lightly against the space between Ai Miao's lower back and the upholstered back of the soft couch.
"Your Majesty?" Ai Miao stiffened slightly. The cold, hard texture transmitted through his thin summer robe, causing him discomfort and leaving him bewildered by Gu Lian's intent.
Gu Lian offered no reply. Instead, he leaned forward, bracing himself on the armrests beside Ai Miao, trapping him between himself and the memorial. He lowered his head until their noses nearly touched, his scorching breath washing over Ai Miao's face.
"I suddenly wish to test my minister," Gu Lian murmured in a voice so low it carried a hint of cruel mockery. "What was the third detail concerning grain transport in that memorial you just presented?"
"..." Ai Miao was momentarily speechless. He had been entirely absorbed in weighing the merits and drawbacks of the overall plan—how could he have deliberately memorized the specific clause number? Moreover, in this bizarre situation, with the Emperor pressing memorials against his lower back and their breaths mingling, even his famously sharp memory seemed to be on strike.
Watching Ai Miao furrow his brow in frustration as he struggled to recall, Gu Lian let out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating with pleasurable resonance.
"Can't answer?" He drew closer, his lips nearly brushing Ai Miao's earlobe as he whispered hoarsely, "Then... I shall collect my debt properly."
Gu Lian's "collection" showed no sign of stopping. That mischievous finger had already slipped deeper beneath the official robe, kneading the firm skin along Ai Miao's waist with deliberate pressure, carrying an unmistakable implication. The sharp memorial paper continued its peculiar role, reminding Ai Miao of his earlier "transgression."
"Your Majesty..." Ai Miao's voice carried a hint of breathless surrender. He tried to grasp Gu Lian's mischievous hand but found his body weak and powerless. His ink-black eyes glistened with moisture; the usual calm of a strategist had been shattered, leaving only utter passivity and a trace of secret indulgence.
Gu Lian adored him like this. He paused his movements but did not withdraw his hand, instead tracing the subtle tremors beneath his palm with his fingertips. He lowered his head, kissing the flushed corner of Ai Miao's eye, his tone softening yet still carrying an undeniable command:
"You neglected the Emperor for a full hour. Do you truly believe this will suffice, Minister Ai?" His lips brushed against Ai Miao's earlobe, warm breath filling the space. "Here," he said, pulling Ai Miao's hand to press it against the spot where his heart beat on his left chest, "is empty. It needs your compensation."
Beneath Ai Miao's palm, Gu Lian's steady, powerful heartbeat pulsed, each thud striking his nerves. He lifted his gaze to meet the undisguised longing and expectation in Gu Lian's deep eyes, and the last shred of his resistance crumbled.
He drew a quiet breath, as if resolving something. The hand that had tried to push Gu Lian away instead slowly slid up to his neck. This subtle, proactive gesture made Gu Lian's eyes darken instantly, like night.
"Your servant... does not know how to make amends," Ai Miao murmured in a voice as low as a mosquito's buzz, tinged with a rare, almost vulnerable confusion. This bewilderment stirred Gu Lian's heartstrings more profoundly than any of his cunning schemes ever could.
Gu Lian chuckled softly, finally snatching the troublesome memorial from his grasp and tossing it aside. He swept Ai Miao into his arms horizontally, eliciting a low gasp from the man held close.
"Your Majesty!" Ai Miao instinctively wrapped his arms around Gu Lian's neck. "This is improper according to etiquette..."
"Within my palace, I am the law." Gu Lian carried him, striding purposefully toward the bedchamber adjoining the imperial study, his voice brimming with triumphant delight. "I can... teach you slowly."
Inside the bedchamber, the gauze curtains hung low, blocking out the sky's light. Gu Lian gently laid Ai Miao upon the soft dragon-embroidered bed, his movements carrying an unquestionable tenderness.
Ai Miao sank into the cloud-patterned silk bedding, his eyes still hazy from moments before. His official robes, disheveled from the earlier "punishment," lay slightly open at the collar, revealing a sliver of his delicate collarbone. His heart pounded like a drum as he watched Gu Lian lean down toward him.
Gu Lian, however, showed no haste. Propping himself above Ai Miao, he lingered with a deep gaze upon the fair, delicate face tinged with a faint blush. His fingertips traced the intricate embroidery on Ai Miao's official robe—the intricate patterns signifying the rank of a First-Class Duke.
"Your official robes," Gu Lian murmured in a low, amused tone, "always make it feel as though I'm conferring with a minister." His fingers deliberately undid a button, slow and deliberate. "I dislike it."
Ai Miao's breath caught as the cool air brushed his skin, sending a shiver through him. He understood Gu Lian's intent—on this dragon bed, at this very moment, Gu Lian desired not the Chancellor of the Privy Council, nor the Marquis of Wen'an, but only him, Ai Miao.
"Then... what does Your Majesty desire?" Ai Miao's voice trembled, a quiver he hadn't even noticed himself.
A triumphant smile curved Gu Lian's lips. He lowered his head, his nose brushing against the side of Ai Miao's neck, warm breath sprinkling over the sensitive skin. "Naturally... to remove your armor."
Gone was the punitive urgency of moments before. Gu Lian's movements became exceedingly patient, even teasingly slow. He undid each meticulously fastened knot one by one, his fingertips occasionally brushing the skin beneath, sending shivers through the body beneath him. The intricate official robe was slowly peeled away, like stripping layer upon layer of composed facade, gradually revealing the landscape beneath—one meant only for the emperor's eyes.
When the final undergarment was slipped down to his elbow, leaving Ai Miao nearly completely exposed to the cool air and Gu Lian's scorching gaze, he instinctively tried to curl up, only to be firmly pinned by Gu Lian's grip on his wrist.
"Don't hide," Gu Lian's eyes darkened to an alarming depth as he gazed at the slender yet well-defined body beneath him, his voice hoarse. "Let the Emperor see you properly." His gaze felt tangible, tracing every contour inch by inch with unabashed admiration and possessiveness.
Ai Miao felt utterly exposed under that gaze, mist gathering in his dark eyes as he turned his head away, his ears flushing crimson. This feeling of being completely laid bare, scrutinized by the emperor's gaze, embarrassed him more than any direct intimacy ever had.
Gu Lian chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss his burning earlobe before finally losing all restraint.
When all was quiet once more, only the sound of their intertwined breaths lingered within the bedchamber. Ai Miao lay limp in Gu Lian's embrace, the lingering flush still visible at the corners of her eyes. Her dark eyes were half-closed, resembling a cat contented and languid after satiation.
Gu Lian stroked his sweat-dampened back with intermittent, gentle strokes, his fingertips sensing the subtle tremors beneath the skin. An unprecedented sense of fulfillment filled his heart. He lowered his head and kissed Ai Miao's slightly damp forehead.
"Do you still think those memorials are more pleasing than the Emperor?" " Gu Lian brought up the old matter, yet his tone held no trace of anger, only thick teasing and smug satisfaction.
Ai Miao barely had the strength left to lift a finger. Hearing this, he only buried his face deeper into the crook of Gu Lian's neck, muttering muffled words: "...Your Majesty is twisting logic."
That nasal, almost petulant complaint made Gu Lian's heart melt. He tightened his arms, drawing the other deeper into his embrace, and chuckled softly, "I am the reason." He paused, his voice growing low and earnest, "Ai Miao, when you're by my side, just look at me, okay?"
It wasn't a command, but a question tinged with an almost imperceptible plea.
Ai Miao fell silent for a moment before slowly lifting his head. Bathed in the afterglow of passion, his eyes—usually as still and deep as an ancient well—now reflected Gu Lian's features with crystalline clarity and intense focus. He raised his slightly weary hand, gently caressing Gu Lian's cheek, his fingertips tracing the sharp contours of his brow and eyes.
"Very well," he murmured softly, his voice faint yet rock-solid in its resolve. "My gaze has always... and will ever... hold room for none but Your Majesty alone."
Gu Lian captured his hand, pressing a kiss to those slightly cool fingertips, his eyes brimming with undying passion.
"Sleep now." He drew Ai Miao closer into his embrace, pulling the brocade quilt over them both. "I will stay with you."
Ai Miao nestled into a comfortable position within his arms and closed his eyes peacefully.
Outside the window, the sun had already begun its descent, bathing the bedchamber in a warm glow.
Those forgotten memorials on the Grand Canal transport system, left behind in the Imperial Study, would likely spend the entire night lying forlornly on the desk.