Su Yuzhi's face turned pale. "I have never—"
"But just by sitting there, you steal people's souls." Xiao Yuhuang's fingers brushed over his lips, dark possessiveness surging in her eyes. "This Wenyuan Pavilion, this Jiangnan… the way they make your eyes light up frightens me."
She suddenly scooped him up in her arms.
"Your Majesty!" Su Yuzhi cried out in alarm.
Outside, Qin Auntie heard the commotion. She took a step forward, then ultimately stopped. Chunyu looked at her nervously. Qin Auntie shook her head lightly, signaling him not to go in.
Xiao Yuhuang carried Su Yuzhi into the inner chamber and placed him on the bed, then leaned down over him. Candlelight flickered, illuminating the intoxication and desire in her eyes.
"What will you call me?" she asked, bracing herself above him as her fingers teased open his collar.
Su Yuzhi turned his head away. "Lady Xiao… you're drunk."
"I am drunk." Xiao Yuhuang kissed the side of his neck, leaving a warm, wet mark. "Drunk on you. I've been drinking this jar of wine for years—each sip only makes me thirstier."
His sash was undone; his outer robe slid down. Su Yuzhi closed his eyes, his body stiff. This was not the first time, yet he could never grow accustomed to the feeling of being completely controlled.
"Open your eyes," Xiao Yuhuang commanded hoarsely. "Look at me."
His lashes trembled. Slowly, he opened his eyes. In the candlelight, her face was close at hand. The emotions in her eyes were too complex—desire, possession, the habitual force of an emperor, and a trace… almost imperceptible, of vulnerability.
What was she afraid of?
"Yuzhi," she kissed the corner of his eye, tasting salt, "don't look at others like that… don't smile at others… I can't bear it."
Her kisses gradually lost control, shifting from gentle to demanding. Her hand slipped beneath his inner garment, tracing his slender waist. Su Yuzhi bit his lower lip, his body trembling involuntarily.
"It hurts…" he whispered.
Xiao Yuhuang froze, a flash of clarity crossing her eyes. She looked at the person beneath her—his face pale, lashes wet, lips bitten white. This was the person she cherished most, yet he was trembling beneath her.
But jealousy and wine drowned out reason.
"It has to hurt so you'll remember," she said hoarsely, her fingers brushing the place on his chest where his old illness lay. "Remember whose you are."
She sealed his lips with a kiss, blocking any resistance. With practiced ease, her other hand stripped away the rest of his clothing. In the candlelight, his pale body was like warm jade—yet so fragile it seemed it could shatter at a touch.
Su Yuzhi stopped resisting. He knew this feeling too well—his body possessed, his soul pulled out of its shell, floating coldly above to watch it all. But tonight, perhaps because of the wine, perhaps because the aftertaste of that brief freedom in the daytime still lingered, when Xiao Yuhuang joined with him, he let out a broken whimper.
That sound wrenched Xiao Yuhuang's heart.
She stopped and looked at him—eyes tightly shut, lashes trembling. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to let go, to say she was sorry, to wipe away the moisture at the corner of his eyes.
But possessiveness grew like rampant vines.
She bent down to kiss away his tears, yet did not stop. Candlelight flickered beyond the gauze curtains, casting their entwined shadows on the wall, like a silent sacrifice.
"Yuzhi…" she murmured at his ear, her voice carrying a plea she herself did not notice. "Say you won't leave me… say it…"
Su Yuzhi opened his eyes, emptiness filling them. He looked at her, at the girl he had once pulled from an icy lake, now an emperor who could so easily control his life and death.
"I…" His voice was hoarse. "Where could I go?"
That single sentence broke Xiao Yuhuang more than any oath.
She hugged him tightly, her movements suddenly gentle. Kisses rained down on his forehead, his eyes, his lips. This time, she was no longer only taking, but trying to prove something—to prove that between them there was more than possession, that there was love, that there was the debt of a life saved at the frozen lake five years ago, that there were countless nights of shared sleep.
Yet Su Yuzhi's body remained stiff.
Until she whispered in his ear, so softly it was almost inaudible, "That year at the ice lake… when you grabbed my hand… it was so warm…"
Su Yuzhi's lashes trembled.
He remembered that winter day—the sound of the ice cracking, the sight of the thin girl sinking into the freezing water. He remembered leaping in, his mind holding only one thought: save her.
He saved her, and dragged himself into this boundless abyss.
But now, as Xiao Yuhuang's movements grew gentler, as she no longer merely possessed him but tried to speak all those unspeakable emotions through their bodies, Su Yuzhi's body finally loosened, just a little.
He lifted his hand, hesitated, then lightly rested it on her back.
That tiny response sent a shudder through Xiao Yuhuang's entire body.
"Yuzhi…" She kissed his lips, this time with genuine trembling.
The candle crackled. At some point, rain began tapping against the window lattice. The patter of rain masked the suppressed gasps and sobs within the curtains.
When the final moment came, Xiao Yuhuang held him tightly, burying her face in his neck. Su Yuzhi felt warmth there—she was crying.
That realization softened something in his heart completely.
He lifted his other hand and gently stroked her hair. That simple gesture made Xiao Yuhuang cling to him even tighter, as if she wanted to merge them into one.
Only after a long while did Xiao Yuhuang slowly pull away. She looked at the flushed face and damp eyes beneath her, and for the first time, she saw something close to "acceptance" in his gaze—not submission, not numbness, but true, exhausted acceptance.
She wiped his body clean, her movements unbelievably gentle. Then she drew him into her arms and pulled the brocade quilt over them both.
The rain grew heavier.
"I'm sorry…" Xiao Yuhuang murmured at his ear. "I'm just… so afraid of losing you."
Su Yuzhi was silent for a long time before softly replying, "I know."
"That Liu Yunyì…" Xiao Yuhuang's voice was muffled. "If she dares harbor improper thoughts toward you—"
"She won't," Su Yuzhi interrupted. "The way she looked at me was the way one looks at a kindred spirit in discourse. Nothing more."
Xiao Yuhuang tightened her hold on him and said no more.
Outside, the rain murmured on. From afar came the faint sound of the night watchman calling the hours. It was the third watch.
Exhausted, Su Yuzhi closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep in Xiao Yuhuang's arms. Just before sleep took him, a blurred thought crossed his mind: perhaps this was their fate—one clinging desperately, the other powerless to escape.
Outside, Qin Auntie had been keeping watch all along. Hearing the sounds inside finally subside, she let out a quiet sigh.
Chunyu asked in a low voice, "Auntie, the young master…"
"He's fine," Qin Auntie shook her head. "Go prepare hot water. Her Majesty will likely want it later."
"Yes."
Xiao Yuhuang, however, could not fall asleep for a long time.
By the dim candlelight, she gazed at the sleeping face in her arms. In sleep, the distance and weariness between his brows faded, revealing traces of the clean, youthful look he once had.
She reached out to touch his face, then stopped midway.
In the end, she only gently brushed aside a strand of hair from his forehead and murmured, "Tomorrow… I'll take you to try Yunzhou's morning tea. I hear it's quite good."
As she rose, her gaze fell on the copied manuscript of Treatise on Governing the South on the desk. She paused.
She walked over and opened it. Between the pages lingered the warmth of his fingertips and the faint scent of medicine. On one page, he had folded a corner, with a tiny annotation beside it: "Segmenting may work; accountability must be cautious. Human hearts are not water—better to guide than to block."
The handwriting was elegant, yet carried force.
Xiao Yuhuang stared at that line for a long time, then gently closed the book.
When she stepped out of the inner chamber, Qin Auntie was already waiting outside, handing her a warm cloth. "Your Majesty."
"Qin Auntie," Xiao Yuhuang took the cloth and said quietly, "today… was he all right?"
Qin Auntie chose her words carefully. "When the young master was discussing learning with those people, his spirits did improve noticeably. It was only after he returned that his mood fell somewhat."
"It was I…" Xiao Yuhuang paused. "Enough. Tomorrow, if he still has the interest, let him walk in the garden again. You accompany him."
"This old woman understands."
As she extinguished the candles, Xiao Yuhuang cast one last glance at the sleeping figure on the bed.
The rain intensified; night deepened.
In one of the guest rooms of Wenyuan Pavilion, a dark figure dropped down from a beam and chuckled softly at the candlelight.
"To think I'd run into such an absolute beauty during the day… that single glance was worth it."
She licked her lips, greed flashing in her eyes.
Outside, a bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating a special bronze token at her waist—a twisted mandala flower engraved upon it.
Thunder roared.
The rain fell even harder.