Realizing the warmth at his fingertips came from where, Xie Lin froze, flustered as he tried to withdraw his hand.
Jiang Yunshu held Xie Lin’s hand tightly, refusing to let him pull away.
Their fingers interlaced, Jiang Yunshu’s delicate palm enveloped in Xie Lin’s grasp, making his slender fingers and well-defined knuckles all the more striking.
A string of white jade prayer beads adorned his wrist—it was impossible to tell which was paler, his skin or the jade.
Jiang Yunshu looked down, struck by the thought that the phrase "a wrist fair as frost" could apply to a man. Xie Lin’s hand appeared cleaner than snow, more lustrous than jade.
Though this was merely a desperate measure in a life-or-death situation, the sight of such hands inexplicably dissolved the resentment in Jiang Yunshu’s heart.
Xie Lin watched as Jiang Yunshu suddenly smiled.
Her dark lashes fluttered, her beautiful peach-blossom eyes curving into crescents, like a spring breeze melting the ice in one’s heart.
Xie Lin vaguely recalled that he had taken matters into his own hands precisely to see a different look in Jiang Yunshu’s eyes.
He wanted to see her tremble in fear, to witness her collapse in despair.
He wanted to watch the light of life fade from her gaze, bit by bit.
Now, he truly saw a different expression—but it was nothing like what he had imagined.
“What does Her Majesty wish to do?” Xie Lin asked leisurely.
Jiang Yunshu smiled brightly. “The Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord ruined my wedding night. Naturally, he owes me another.”
Her peach-blossom eyes brimmed with tenderness, the alluring smile unfamiliar yet devastating in its mix of innocence and seduction.
Xie Lin suddenly felt intrigued, wondering how many more shades of emotion he could draw from those eyes.
His hand slipped beneath the layers of her wedding robes, nimble fingers deftly loosening the ties at her waist until her inner trousers drifted down, pooling around her slender ankles.
Xie Lin watched Jiang Yunshu’s eyes, expecting fear or regret, but instead, he found only radiant delight blooming within them.
Effortlessly, Xie Lin lifted the petite woman into his arms and strode out of the palace.
Without the cover of her inner trousers, a glimpse of Jiang Yunshu’s snow-white calf peeked through the wedding robes.
Yet her eyes showed no trace of panic. She nestled softly against Xie Lin’s chest, her arms looping around his neck.
Xie Lin wondered how long Jiang Yunshu could keep up the act.
Carrying her without restraint, he walked boldly through the palace grounds.
Servants and eunuchs along the way quickly averted their eyes, not daring to look up as they scurried aside.
Xie Lin brought Jiang Yunshu into Weiyang Palace.
His title as the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord was well-earned.
The Palace of Eternal Joy and Weiyang Palace stood along the central axis of the imperial complex, the grandest among all the palaces.
The Palace of Eternal Joy housed the emperor, while Weiyang Palace—home to neither the empress dowager nor the empress—belonged to Xie Lin, the Chief Eunuch.
Xie Lin carried Jiang Yunshu straight to the bathing pool.
A single bathing chamber in Weiyang Palace dwarfed Jiang Yunshu’s entire bedchamber.
The pool, carved from white jade, filled with steaming hot water, mist swirling like an ethereal paradise.
A mere incense stick’s time ago, Jiang Yunshu had been trapped in a hellish palace. Now, she had stepped into a celestial realm.
“There are no maids in Weiyang Palace. Her Majesty will have to undress and bathe herself.”
Xie Lin’s face was obscured by the rising steam, leaving her unable to discern whether he was a demon or an immortal.
He thought that now, Jiang Yunshu would finally drop the act.
Yet again, he was wrong.
The opulent wedding robes cascaded down like fluttering butterflies.
One by one, the intricate hair ornaments were removed, her raven-black tresses spilling loose like silk.
Jiang Yunshu slowly submerged herself in the pool. The rhythmic splashing of water as she ladled it over herself seemed to pour directly onto Xie Lin’s heart.
Half an hour later, she ascended the jade steps, her voice soft as she asked, “Shall this humble one assist the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord in bathing?”
Meeting those misty peach-blossom eyes, Xie Lin removed the white jade prayer beads he never took off.
He had only meant to see how far Jiang Yunshu would go… so how had it come to this?
The beads clinked lightly as they were set aside on the pool’s edge.
Xie Lin bent down, scooping the flowing hot water to meticulously wash his hands twice.
The scalding water tinted his jade-like hands a faint pink.
With a casual gesture, he pointed to the red jade divan by the pool—originally meant for resting and changing.
Jiang Yunshu lay upon it, the deep crimson jade accentuating her snow-white skin.
Xie Lin gazed down at her. “Has Her Majesty truly considered this?”
“If you regret it, this servant would never force you.”
At worst, he could simply return her to the emperor below, letting him fulfill her wedding night instead.
Jiang Yunshu smiled, reaching for Xie Lin’s hand.
“I fear pain…” Her eyes flickered over his long fingers. “I beg the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord to be gentle.”
---
“Open your eyes.”
At Xie Lin’s command, Jiang Yunshu obeyed, finding him as composed as ever.
Still clad in his violet robes and golden sash, every fold pristine, his icy expression betrayed nothing.
She thought that if he withdrew his hand now, he could stride out without a trace of disarray.
The sight of his impeccable appearance only made Jiang Yunshu’s face burn hotter. She dared not imagine how she must look beneath his touch—yet the moment she turned her head slightly, his voice came again.
“Look at me.”
Trapped, her misty eyes met his cool gaze.
His deep, fathomless pupils reflected her image, forcing her to see that in this sea of pleasure, she was the only one adrift.
Even now, Xie Lin found no humiliation in Jiang Yunshu’s eyes.
That limpid, spring-like gaze was one he could no longer decipher.
“How does Her Majesty feel?” Xie Lin asked.
Jiang Yunshu hadn’t expected such bluntness. Her cheeks flushed crimson, but she dared not refuse an answer.
“It’s… like being submerged in water…”
Were it not for the cold, unyielding jade beneath her, she might have believed she was back in the pool.
Her body felt boneless, as if steeped too long in warm water, the gentle waves lapping at her again and again.
When she closed her eyes, she imagined herself on a tiny boat, drifting aimlessly across a lake.
The pain she had dreaded never came.
Even in her past life, Jiang Yunshu had heard that the first time would hurt—that pleasure only came after enduring the initial pain.
Here, before entering the palace, the matron sent to instruct her had emphasized the inevitability of pain during the first night.
“You must endure it,” the matron had warned. “If you weep and spoil the emperor’s mood, you risk falling out of favor—or worse, punishment!”
Jiang Yunshu had paled at the words, certain there were concubines who had suffered such fates. She couldn’t fathom how much it would hurt.
Tonight, in her desperate bid for survival, she had braced herself for agony.
Yet Xie Lin had given her not a single moment of suffering.
Xie Lin had a fastidious love for cleanliness, his bedding all in light hues. Beneath him, the moon-white brocade quilt bore no embroidery, like a vast bridal veil cradling the clandestine pleasures of the night.
She felt no pain, and the shimmering brocade beneath her, pristine as moonlight, remained unstained by even a trace of blood.
As another wave of passion ebbed away, Jiang Yunshu, drained of strength, fell into a deep slumber.
Xie Lin withdrew his hand and leisurely walked to the edge of the bathing pool, bending to scoop a handful of water.
Outside the bath chamber, the fleeting shadow of a young attendant passed by.
Xie Lin called out to the child, "What is it?"
The attendant bowed respectfully and replied, "Reporting to the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord, Eunuch Wang sends word—the imperial concubines, overwhelmed with grief, have all followed the emperor in death."
Xie Lin responded, "Understood."
In Weiyang Palace, not a single adult served Xie Lin in close quarters; only young children attended to him.
His obsession with cleanliness bordered on mania—he believed the older a person grew, the more pungent their scent became. No matter how many times they bathed in a day, the stench of humanity could never be scrubbed away.
Children, their essence still untainted, were the purest, and thus Xie Lin permitted only them to serve him intimately.
Yet just moments ago… he had carried Jiang Yunshu all the way back in his arms.
Only now did Xie Lin realize with a start—he had detected none of the loathsome odor he despised on her.
