The mist swirled around the Mandarin Duck Pool, where Jiang Yuan leaned against the stone edge, bare-chested and eyes closed—until the sound of movement made him lift his eyelids.
Across the pool, Qi Daiyu, clad only in a thin gauze over her undergarments, flushed crimson the moment she reached the edge. She hurried into the hot spring, eager to submerge herself in the water, as if it could shield her from view.
She had known the imperial concubines' bathing pool would be small, but not this small!
No more than a meter separated her from the emperor. A single stretch of his arm, and he could pull her close.
To avoid such awkwardness, Qi Daiyu pressed herself against the pool wall, inwardly grateful that the palace maids of Chengguang Palace had scattered rose petals across the water’s surface. Though she couldn’t help but wonder—why rose petals?
Stealing a glance at the emperor, she saw his eyes half-lidded and relaxed slightly.
He looked exhausted. Surely he wouldn’t bother her.
With her mind at ease, her body followed, and she finally noticed the soothing warmth of the spring. Though the faint scent of sulfur lingered, it was bearable. The hot water enveloped her, pores opening in comfort as the chill left her limbs.
Wrapped in steam, Qi Daiyu curled into herself, knees drawn to her chest, and closed her eyes in contentment.
Submerged up to her neck, she thought herself safe.
Unbeknownst to her, the damp strands of hair clinging to her face and neck, the droplets tracing down her fair skin—it was all just as alluring.
Her lashes trembled faintly, her lips flushed from the heat, cheeks dusted pink. No cosmetics adorned her, yet her skin glowed with a delicate sheen.
Jiang Yuan was reminded of the night she had been drunk.
Just like this—flushed and dazed, lying beneath him.
Bringing Qi Daiyu to Chengguang Palace hadn’t been premeditated. He’d simply been pleased with her progress in lessons and took pity when he saw her shivering from the cold.
It had been a while since he last bathed here, so he brought her along.
Had it not been a sudden decision, Jiang Yuan would have soaked alone in the Dragon Pool, not squeezed into this tiny space with another.
Yet now, veiled in mist, her figure half-hidden, she reminded him of an old verse: "Holding a pipa, half-hidden behind silk."
It made him want to uncover what lay beneath.
And so he did. Without moving, his hand slid beneath the water, fingers curling around her ankle to tug her toward him.
"Ah—!" Caught off guard, Qi Daiyu toppled backward, plunging under. Just as she held her breath, an arm hooked around her waist and hauled her up.
When she surfaced, her hair was drenched, lashes beaded with droplets.
"Clear water draws forth the lotus, nature strips away adornment."
A flicker of admiration passed through Jiang Yuan’s eyes, then shifted to curiosity.
"What’s this?" His fingers brushed the thin cord at her waist.
Already loosened by the water, the knot unraveled at his touch. He tugged it free, examining it.
"No!" Qi Daiyu seized his wrist, her face burning. Today, she had worn the tied-waist kind of—
Given Shiliu’s reaction, she knew how scandalous such a style was in this era. If Jiang Yuan saw it—hiss—she sucked in a sharp breath, eyes pleading for the first time.
Please, spare me this shame.
But her resistance only piqued his interest. His grip on her waist tightened as he pulled the garment out.
A sheer, flimsy thing. At first, Jiang Yuan didn’t recognize it—until he remembered where it had come from.
His gaze snapped to Qi Daiyu in stunned realization.
She had already squeezed her eyes shut, sinking lower as if wishing the water would swallow her whole.
Heavens, drown me now.
"So, Consort Hui is this bold in private." Amusement laced his voice as Jiang Yuan recovered, tossing the garment onto the steps. His other hand remained on her waist, pulling her closer.
Beneath the teasing, his voice carried a huskiness he didn’t bother to hide.
The heat of his palm seared into her skin, snapping Qi Daiyu back to reality. The embarrassment was secondary now—
She braced her hands against his chest, straining to push away. "Your Majesty, I’ve soaked long enough. It’s late, I should—"
Her words died as she froze. Jiang Yuan stared down at her, gaze unyielding.
No room for refusal.
While Qi Daiyu scrambled for an escape, his hands moved.
The rhythm of his touch matched the rippling water—each motion coaxing a response from her.
The pool swayed. She swayed more.
They were both adults. Skin against skin, it was impossible not to feel anything. What held Qi Daiyu back was only her own conscience.
Last time, she had been drunk. Now, they were both sober. She couldn’t let herself succumb.
Yet her feeble resistance only made Jiang Yuan see it as coyness.
Or perhaps he knew she truly meant to refuse—but so what?
He was the emperor. She was his consort.
If he wanted her, compliance was her duty.
Jiang Yuan knew well that Qi Daiyu would never dare outright refuse.
So he would treat it as mere pretense.
In one swift motion, he pinned her wrists above her head, spinning her until her back met the stone wall.
"Consort Hui," he murmured against her lips, "be good."
Qi Daiyu felt herself burning up. At first, she struggled, but between the weight of their stations and the sheer difference in strength, her efforts were futile.
Tears pricked her eyes as she tried to retreat, only to find nowhere left to go.
The hands restraining her had loosened, yet she no longer had the will to resist.
Like a lotus in the pool, plucked at his leisure.
She seemed even more sensitive than when she’d been drunk.
Jiang Yuan noted this with idle curiosity, though it only heightened his own pleasure. Impatience thrummed through him.
Brushing the damp hair from her face, he traced the shell of her ear with calloused fingers—rough from years of wielding a brush.
The scrape of skin made her shiver.
Qi Daiyu turned her head, catching a faint floral scent.
Shame surged as she clenched her eyes shut, though the flush creeping to her temples betrayed her.
The water churned, a whirlpool forming unseen, drawing rose petals into its depths.
Then, a hand shattered the vortex.
A limp wrist surfaced, floating among the petals—rising, falling, like the rest.
The water in the Mandarin Duck Pool came from a hot spring outlet, controlled by a mechanism that regulated its flow. When the temperature dropped, the outlet would open to release fresh hot spring water, ensuring the pool remained warm.
Today, the water in the Mandarin Duck Pool alternated between cold and hot, hot and cold.
Until Qi Daiyu could bear it no longer and bit down on Jiang Yuan’s shoulder, forcing him to finally release her.
He lifted her chin with his fingers. "Last time it was my hand, this time my shoulder. Where do you plan to bite next?"
"Consort Hui, you have quite the audacity."
His voice carried no trace of anger.
There was no better time to ask for favors than when a man was thoroughly satisfied—he’d likely agree to anything.
But Qi Daiyu was too exhausted to speak, let alone make demands.
And perhaps from sheer exhaustion, her vision blurred, making it seem as though there were several versions of the emperor before her.
"I—" She barely opened her mouth before darkness swallowed her sight.
When she awoke again, the familiar bed curtains of Yanqing Residence greeted her. Outside, the sky had already darkened.
She tried to sit up, but her body ached terribly, and her throat was parched.
A water pitcher sat on the bedside table, still warm. Qi Daiyu poured herself a cup and drank it all in one go.
Her throat soothed, she called for her maid.
Shiliu entered. "Mistress, you’re awake!" She set down the items in her hands and hurried over, draping a robe over Qi Daiyu’s shoulders. "Be careful not to catch a chill."
"Mm. What happened to me?" Qi Daiyu caught the scent of a familiar medicinal aroma.
Shiliu’s face was full of worry and guilt. "Mistress, you caught a chill and developed a fever. You fainted while soaking in the hot spring. It’s all my fault—I should’ve noticed you weren’t feeling well sooner."
A fever? Qi Daiyu recalled the earlier scene—she had felt unbearably hot at the time, but even with a fever, fainting seemed excessive. She suspected it was more likely due to prolonged exposure to the steamy water, leaving her oxygen-deprived...
As for why she’d been deprived of oxygen, Qi Daiyu’s cheeks warmed. "Then... how did I get back?"
Shiliu answered matter-of-factly, "His Majesty carried you back, of course. He said you’d overexerted yourself and needed proper rest. He also mentioned that your constitution is too weak—falling ill so easily at the slightest breeze isn’t good. He specifically ordered Physician Lu to help strengthen your health."
She looked delighted at the emperor’s favor toward her mistress.
Qi Daiyu: "..."
A thought suddenly struck her. "When His Majesty brought me back... were there any rumors in the palace?"
Between the hot spring and the emperor personally escorting her, it all sounded like the treatment reserved for a favored consort. She had no desire to become a target.
Shiliu hesitated, not daring to hide the truth. "There’s a good one and a bad one. Which would you like to hear first?"
There were categories now?
"What’s the good one?"
"The good one is... after you fainted, someone spread word that you were pregnant. Of course, after Physician Lu examined you and confirmed you weren’t, the rumor died on its own." Shiliu sighed regretfully. "If only you really were with child."
That was absolutely impossible—she had no intention of bearing children. After their last encounter, she’d discreetly procured emergency contraception, and with foresight, she’d also acquired long-term contraceptive pills, which she’d been taking ever since.
The chances of pregnancy were infinitesimal, and given her frail constitution, conception was highly unlikely.
And this was supposed to be good news? Qi Daiyu’s heart clenched. Just how bad was the bad news?
She took a deep breath. "Then what’s the bad one?"
Shiliu blinked and spoke rapidly, "The bad one is that the rumor from Chengguang Palace claims you slipped and fell into the pool, choking on water before passing out!"
They even said that if not for His Majesty’s quick reflexes, Consort Hui would have drowned in the hot spring.
Shiliu didn’t dare repeat that last part.
Now, the entire palace was laughing—Consort Hui had become the first imperial consort in history to nearly drown in a hot spring... a record unlikely to be broken.
Ironically, thanks to this rumor, barely anyone paid attention to the fact that the emperor had shared the hot spring with her.
Qi Daiyu: "..."
She wanted to faint all over again.
