Chapter 8 I know, "My lady, I do not wish to be the villain."

This is the fourth time...

Wen Miao pursed her lips slightly. After regaining her senses, she wanted to bow, but the emperor in front of her still raised his arm and half-grabbed her elbow, just like last time, stopping her from bowing.

"Your Majesty..." Wen Miao didn't know what to say.

She thought that after the last time, she would no longer have any contact with the emperor. After all, to some extent, she had avoided the emperor's overtures. Although they had only interacted in private, given the emperor's arrogance, he was unlikely to want to pay her any more attention.

But right now...

The oil-paper umbrella above shook, casting raindrops outwards. Xu Sheng, who was chasing after him with the umbrella in hand, was startled and, whether intentionally or unintentionally, spoke up:

"Oh dear, Your Majesty, why is your back all wet? This season is the most susceptible to catching a cold!"

Emperor Qian Yuan lowered his lips and only replied with a single word, "Too talkative."

Wen Miao sighed inwardly. Perhaps because she was no longer in the solemn and disciplined environment of the palace, she relaxed a little and gently pushed the umbrella handle held in front of her.

"Your Majesty, the spring rain is chilly. Don't get wet. I still have my veil."

When faced with Xu Shengshi's "talkativeness," Emperor Qianyuan smiled and said "good." He half-protected Wen Miao's back with his arm, tilting the umbrella slightly over her head, but still keeping most of it above the woman's head.

Emperor Qianyuan: "The ground is slippery from the rain. When you go up the steps, you can put your arm around my arm."

Wen Miao hesitated for a moment before glancing at the stone steps. The rain had come so suddenly and heavily that her soft-soled satin embroidered shoes were already half-soaked, making it quite dangerous to step on the stone steps.

So she said "Thank you, Your Majesty" and carefully raised her hand to place it on the table.

Are all emperors so... unpretentious?

Emperor Qianyuan held an umbrella in one hand and half-supported Wen Miao's arm with the other, while Xu Sheng followed behind with another umbrella, his face beaming with joy.

His Majesty's mood improved the moment he saw His Highness!

The rain in April was still pattering down, and soon water began to gather on one side of the steps.

The blue stone steps became darker and more slippery and dangerous due to the water stains.

Wen Miao's satin shoes were completely soaked. Even though she was lightly holding onto Emperor Qian Yuan's arm, she still slipped as she stepped down. Her veil and black gauze trembled violently. Before she could cry out, an arm reached out from behind and wrapped around her waist firmly like an iron clamp.

Her entire shoulder was almost entirely embraced by the man's chest, her nostrils filled with the hazy scent of sandalwood, carrying the dampness of spring rain. The bamboo basket on her wrist swayed, and a flower wreath was still hooked on her fingertips. Wen Miao heard a voice say "Hold on tight," and then she was lifted up in his arms.

The damp hem of the skirt swayed twice, dropping water droplets.

Wen Miao hurriedly raised her hand to cover her tilted veil, but ended up falling into Emperor Qian Yuan's arms. Above her, she heard a low, hoarse male laugh.

"Shall I carry my wife upstairs to take shelter from the rain?"

The man was polite and gentle in his questioning, but the hands that were holding Wen Miao's lower back and knees held a certain forceful insistence. She responded softly, suddenly glad that she was wearing a veil, so that she wouldn't feel awkward or helpless facing him directly.

On the stone steps of Huiling Mountain, Emperor Qianyuan held Wen Miao in his arms. Xu Sheng took two umbrellas and carefully glanced at the emperor, whose brows and eyes were relaxed. He then used the oil-paper umbrella in his hand to support Wen Miao, and as expected, he received an approving look from the emperor.

He knew it! From now on, he'll always prioritize the Empress, and His Majesty will have no complaints! The Empress is much easier to serve than His Majesty!

Emperor Qianyuan was tall and strong. Even carrying a woman full of plumpness and fragrance, he still walked briskly. After leading the people into the stone pavilion, he bent down slightly and placed the woman, who was stiff in his arms, in the place where he had been reviewing the memorials.

Only the stone bench had a soft cushion laid out beforehand.

The cushion was embroidered with a five-clawed golden dragon, a symbol of status. Wen Miao caught a glimpse of this bright yellow color out of the corner of her eye, and was startled. She instinctively raised her arms to gather the garland and bamboo basket, and hugged the emperor's neck.

The woman's cool fingertips brushed against Emperor Qian Yuan's neck. His Adam's apple bobbed, and the veins on the side of his neck throbbed slightly, but he only calmly patted Wen Miao's back and whispered to comfort her, "It's alright. These mundane things are meant to be used by people."

Wen Miao relaxed her arms, and Emperor Qian Yuan put her down.

Sometimes she didn't know why, but her perception of the Great Chu imperial power was always somewhat strange. On one hand, she feared the possibility of the emperor's wrath causing the deaths of millions, and on the other hand, she felt a deep-seated unease and discomfort, as if...

She seemed to belong to a different era.

How could that be?

Wen Miao lowered her head and chuckled silently, but the next second she was so shocked that her eyes widened and her eyelashes trembled.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty..."

The sound seemed stuck in his throat, a mixture of surprise, anxiety, and a hint of hidden shame and indignation.

Hearing the noise, Xu Sheng glanced over and thought to himself, "Oh dear!" He immediately turned his head and twisted his neck, pretending to be blind and deaf at the entrance of the stone pavilion, not looking at what he shouldn't see or hearing what he shouldn't hear.

Inside the pavilion, Emperor Qianyuan lifted one side of his robe and squatted down in front of Wen Miao with an air of authority. He didn't care whether his robe hem would touch the ground, but simply raised his hand to carefully gather up her rain-soaked dress and touch her wet, cool satin embroidered shoes.

Wen Miao tried to dodge, but the other person's warm hand gripped her ankle through her stockings.

"Did you bring spare shoes and socks when you went out?"

Wen Miao pursed her lips, her forehead sweating with nervousness, her cheeks flushed under her veil, and her hands still sweaty as she tightly gripped the bamboo basket and flower wreath. Her voice was soft and shallow, tinged with a hint of embarrassment and annoyance, "No, I never did."

Before Emperor Qian Yuan could make a move, Wen Miao asked somewhat warily, "What does Your Majesty intend to do?"

Emperor Qianyuan casually used the base of his thumb to gently press the soft sole of the embroidered shoe, and slowly asked, "Does my lady know how I feel about you?"

Wen Miao never expected the Emperor to be so direct. Like a startled deer, she instinctively pulled her legs back, but ended up trapping Emperor Qian Yuan's hand between her ankles.

The man was hot, and Wenmiao, who felt slightly chilly after the spring rain, even felt a slight spasm and tremble in her calf from the heat.

Emperor Qian Yuan did not look up, but slowly and deliberately took off Wen Miao's wet embroidered shoes while holding her ankle. "It seems you already know."

Wen Miao's expression was hidden beneath her veil. She bit her lower lip and said with some difficulty, "Your Majesty, I am already married."

"I know."

The damp embroidered shoes were placed aside, and even the half-wet white silk stockings were not spared. Emperor Qian Yuan casually untied his outer robe, which was almost dried by his body heat, placed one side under Wen Miao's feet, and folded the other side over her icy feet.

The embroidered marks brushed against the instep of his foot. The emperor, who had been looking down, slowly lifted his eyelids. He was clearly in a half-squatting, submissive posture, but his eyes held a forceful, pressing presence.

He said, "But I also know that your husband has long since passed away."

Whether in this world or another... Emperor Qian Yuan sighed in his heart. Countless times he sincerely hoped that his wife's husband in another world was dead.

At this moment, a hazy veil of white cloth stood between Wen Miao and Emperor Qian Yuan, but she felt that his eyes were so deep that they almost swallowed her up. It seemed that only at this moment did this wise and handsome emperor slightly reveal his aggressive nature as a ruler.

But he was very careful.

He chose to tell Wen Miao his desires from a position of looking up to her, thus making his aggression much gentler.

Wen Miao felt a tightness in her throat, but she saw that the person who had been pressing her so aggressively had calmed down. He simply got up, washed his hands, poured a cup of hot tea, and handed it to her, saying, "Madam, have some tea to calm your nerves."

Wen Miao's expression was slightly cold, and she did not want to speak.

Even though she was facing the emperor, and shouldn't act rashly, Wen Miao felt quite frustrated, as if everything was within the emperor's expectations.

Emperor Qianyuan chuckled, "Is your wife always this gentle when she's angry?"

The beautiful woman, sitting quietly on the stone bench, had her lips tightly closed. Her fingertips, white as snow, trembled slightly as if due to her emotions. She was gripping the bamboo basket tightly, leaving a red mark around her fingers.

Emperor Qianyuan's expression hardened, and with a slight effort, he removed the bamboo basket and flower wreath with one hand. Using his fingertips, which were a shade darker, he gently smoothed out the other person's smooth and soft palm.

"Madam, it's fine to be angry, but don't take it out on yourself," Emperor Qianyuan said with a hint of helplessness.

Unable to pull her hand back, Wen Miao retorted in a somewhat desperate manner, "Then Your Majesty can stop being angry with me!"

The red mark on her palm was gradually rubbed away, and then Emperor Qian Yuan placed the perfectly warm tea into Wen Miao's hands. Emperor Qian Yuan took a half step back, sat on the stone bench opposite her, and lazily spoke while examining the half-finished flower wreath Wen Miao had made:

"My lady, I also want a flower wreath."

Wen Miao took a sip of the warm pomegranate tea, but the breath she had calmed down was stirred up again by Emperor Qian Yuan's words. She clearly had the best temper, so why did she get annoyed so often when she met this person?

She said irritably, "That's for Mengjun. Is Your Majesty going to fight with a child for it?"

Emperor Qian Yuan's single word "want" left Wen Miao speechless. She took several quick breaths, biting her lower lip until it was a bright red, and couldn't help but say, "Your Majesty, we have only met four times so far."

Once in the outskirts of the capital, once in a bookstore, once in the palace, and now—for someone as slow to warm up as Wen Miao, the emperor before her was nothing more than a stranger!

Even if you're not close friends, any interest you might have is just lust at first sight.

"Four times, that's quite a lot."

Emperor Qianyuan's fingertips brushed against the tender green willow branches on the wreath, but little did his wife know that he had seen her a thousand times before these four times...

Even before lust at first sight was the obsession and covetousness he had harbored for over a decade.

Wen Miao's voice trembled slightly as she suddenly asked, "Do I have any other choice?"

The atmosphere inside the stone pavilion was slightly tense. Xu Sheng, who was looking at the sky, the ground, and the scenery, felt his scalp tighten. Even with his back turned, he could feel the calm yet intimidating pressure emanating from the emperor.

After a moment of silence, Emperor Qianyuan did not answer Wen Miao's question, but said in a low voice, "Madam, I do not wish to be a villain."

Wen Miao suppressed her anxious breathing. Emperor Qian Yuan leaned closer, suddenly raised his hand, and pulled off the ties on the veil. Under Wen Miao's panicked gaze, he removed it.

The thin veil of soap dispelled the hazy mist, and after many days, Emperor Qianyuan once again caught a glimpse of her beautiful face. He reached out, brushed aside the stray hairs at Wenmiao's temples, and placed another blooming, water-red begonia in her hair.

The sandalwood incense from the emperor's sleeve still carried moisture, making Wen Miao feel dizzy and confused. Her mind was a mess, and she couldn't understand how things had turned out this way...

Not far away, Xu Sheng, who had been keeping a low profile, had already nimbly started a fire next to the stone pavilion. He was about to dry Wen Miao's shoes and socks when he saw the Emperor reach out and take over all matters concerning his mistress and empress.

Xu Sheng obediently stepped back, keeping his eyes down and continuing to admire the spring rain and mist outside the pavilion from the background.

This rainy day is so beautiful!

The mountains of Huiling were shrouded in a thin mist due to the rain. Emperor Qianyuan's guards, who had been hiding in the forest, went down the mountain to deliver a message to the Xie family, saying that their master would return after the rain stopped.

Wen Miao realized that the emperor's men were hiding not far outside the pavilion. Her stiff face immediately turned red, clearly because she remembered the time when Emperor Qian Yuan knelt down to take off her shoes and socks. She felt quite uncomfortable.

Emperor Qian Yuan remained calm and collected, placing his fingertip on the satin embroidered shoes to test their moisture level. "They dare not look."

Wen Miao didn't want to talk.

He especially didn't want to speak to the emperor.

Emperor Qian Yuan didn't care. He carefully dried Wen Miao's shoes and socks, and just as he was about to raise his hand, he saw the beautiful woman sitting not far from him pull her legs back and step on his outer robe with a slightly hesitant look. She said warily, "I can do it myself."

He chuckled softly, seemingly generous, "I'll listen to my wife."

Anyway... he'll always have a chance.

A note from the author:

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Emperor: Shameless people get to enjoy their wives first~ Forget the dragon-patterned cushion, I'd even want my wife to sit on the dragon throne! [Pity]

Wen Miao: Why does it feel like the emperor is worthless?

Thank you for liking it!