Chapter 128: Thirst-quenching sweat, gold...
The scent of golden iris carries the elegance of violet, cool and aloof, with a nobleness that is untainted by the dust.
The fragrance is not overbearing, but it reveals a luxurious texture, like the luster of moonlight on silk, soft but not to be ignored.
Tempting, unaware,
It seems to whisper in silence, making people intoxicated.
Xirui was very familiar with the smell of golden iris pheromones - he initially thought it was the smell of perfume, then he thought it was body odor, and finally he realized that it was the smell of pheromones.
The white imperial robe with gold threads gradually became messy and wrinkled.
The fabric was embroidered with intricate patterns, and the golden threads sparkled in the dim light.
“…slow down…slow down…”
His Majesty Attalan tilted his head back with half-closed eyes, half of his golden hair was neatly tied up and pressed under the crown, and a few strands of hair hung down beside his cold pale cheeks, which was clearly a gorgeous and cold beauty.
The unattainable golden iris was caught in Xirui's arms.
Xirui's kiss was gentle and delicate, and the warmth between his lips and teeth made Atalan's breathing slightly quicken.
His fingers slowly reached into Atalan's hair and gently untied the golden clip on the crown.
As the golden clip loosened, half of the king's hair fell like flowing water. The golden hair fluttered slightly in the air, like golden light blown away by the wind, lazy and messy.
The solemn and dignified imperial robe became messy as it was pulled, the collar was slightly open, revealing the cold white collarbone, and the white material with gold thread was slightly wrinkled during the movement.
It was as if the solemn and noble appearance was being peeled off bit by bit.
The male insect's fingers gently combed through Atalan's scattered hair, and the warmth of his fingertips made him shiver slightly.
The air was filled with the scent of ebony agarwood, mixed with the cool fragrance of golden iris.
A trace of confusion flashed in Atalan's eyes, and he now felt as if he was dreaming.
But the pheromones of Ebony Agarwood kept reminding him that all this was not a dream.
All of this is true,
This is the reality.
This is what he'd wanted all along.
The king leaned back slightly, his back against the cold wall. He raised his head, revealing his pale and fragile neck, like a stag willing to have its lifeblood bitten by a hound.
The imperial robe was still draped on him, but it no longer seemed so out of reach.
At this moment, he is like a king who has stepped down from the altar. His nobility is not innate, and all these things can be discarded, leaving only a heart-warming fragility.
Just as the male insect's hand touched the collar of the emperor's robe, Atalan suddenly opened his eyes, as if waking up from a dream.
His golden pupils shrank slightly, a trace of panic flashed in his eyes, and then he raised his hand and grasped Xirui's hot wrist.
The king's fingers were icy cold, forming a stark tactile contrast with Xirui's warmth.
“…Don’t take it off, just wear it.”
Atalan's voice was very soft, with an imperceptible tremor, like a candle swaying in the wind, weak but stubborn.
Xirui was stunned, and his hand movements paused. His eyes fell on Atalan's face, with a bit of confusion and concern:
"Afraid of the cold?"
This is a very kind guess.
But how could a king who had come from such a bloody storm be afraid of such a little cold?
Atalan did not answer immediately, but lowered his eyes. His long eyelashes cast a faint shadow under his eyes, hiding the emotions in his eyes.
His fingers were still tightly gripping Xirui's wrist, with his fingertips exerting a little force, as if he was suppressing something.
Actually, it’s not that I’m afraid of the cold.
Atalan just felt that the large gray-white scars left on his body due to the late stage of osteosarcoma were really ugly.
The scars were deeply engraved on his skin, impossible to erase or ignore.
Twenty-five years, this was the price of his stubbornness.
He was afraid that Xirui would see it.
I was afraid that a hint of disgust or pity would appear in those deep eyes.
I’m afraid that my hot hands will suddenly cool down when they touch those ugly marks.
He was afraid that his last bit of dignity would completely collapse at that moment.
Atalan's breathing quickened slightly, and the air in his chest seemed to be sucked out bit by bit, leaving only the suffocating silence.
Xirui's eyes were still fixed on his face, trying to read his thoughts.
The male insect's hand flipped up and tightly grasped Atalan's hand.
"What's wrong?"
Atalan's Adam's apple rolled slightly, he turned his head away, and whispered:
"Cerie, just…don't take this top off."
After a pause, Xirui nodded and said, "Okay."
So, in the end, what fell to the ground was only a pair of snow-white brocade trousers.
The brocade trousers were soft, as if woven with moonlight. They slid lightly between Atalan's legs and fell silently on the carpet.
When they landed, there was no sound, they just piled up gently, like a soft cloud, lying quietly on the thick carpet.
So, the king sat on the high white jade table, replacing the bottle of fresh golden iris.
The king's legs were slender and elegant, and his white imperial robe with gold threads was slightly open, revealing his cold white skin, which glowed with a faint halo in the dim light, like snow kissed by moonlight.
Atalan seemed to be really afraid of the cold. He shivered slightly, then gently bent his knees and curled up his legs.
Atalan's legs were beautiful, white and slender, as if carved from the finest jade.
Although the cold white skin was covered with large patches of grayish-white scars, it did not conceal the beauty of the legs at all.
The legs are long and well-proportioned, and the lines from the ankles to the knees and then to the sides of the legs all show an innate elegance.
It seems like a work of art that has gone through wind and rain but is still exquisite.
Although there are many gray-white scars caused by osteoarthritis on the legs, including the thighs and calves, they are relatively few compared to the body.
The king's brilliant golden hair fell on his shoulders, his golden eyes were slightly lowered, and his long, thick eyelashes cast a faint shadow under his eyes, hiding the fear in his eyes.
The slender fingers were clasped tightly on the white jade table, with the fingertips slightly curled up.
He wanted to reach out and use his robe to cover the scars on his body, but he finally held back.
——There’s no point in blocking it.
Xirui's eyes were fixed on Atalan's face, with an almost pious tenderness.
His hot hand pressed down on Attaran's knee.
Clear distinction between hot and cold.
The cold touch of the white jade table penetrated into Atalan's body through the outer layer of clothing, making him shrink involuntarily.
The male insect's hand was warm and hot, like a silently burning flame, gently covering it.
The warmth seeped through the skin and into the king's already tired and cold soul, as if to completely melt Atalan's coldness.
Xirui's palms were rough and had obvious calluses - on the fingertips and palms, gun calluses.
Rough yet gentle, the palm carries a strength that cannot be ignored, as if trying to use warmth to dispel all the chillness of the king.
A hug like before, but with ambiguous movements.
It almost brought Attaran to tears.
The scorching temperature was transmitted from the palm of his hand, like a silent electric current, flowing through his body bit by bit, igniting every inch of dry branches, leaves and petals.
Xirui's hand paused, and his fingertips slid down to touch Atalan's ankle. The male insect's palm was warm, scorching hot, and slowly covered the sole of Atalan's foot, dispelling the cold temperature bit by bit.
The ankle seemed docile and fragile in Xirui's palm, as if it could be broken with a slight squeeze.
“Cerie…”
Atalan was almost on fire.
The soles of his feet, which he never showed to others, were grabbed, and it was like being ignited by a silent flame. The heat spread from the soles of his feet to his whole body, making Atalan shiver uncontrollably.
Xirui's fingers gently stroked Atalan's ankle, gently and domineeringly, and his hot palms pressed tightly against the soles of Atalan's feet.
He chuckled softly and said, "Ranta, I will make you feel happy."
…
dripping sweat,
Golden iris with dewy tears.
Trembling branches and leaves.
…
From the white jade high table to the soft sofa, Atalaan was so tired that he fell asleep - he couldn't tell anymore, it had been so long since he had such a good dream.
The king's body curled up slightly, like some fragile beast, finally letting down all his defenses.
The dazzling crown was gently placed aside.
His golden hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to his cheeks and forehead in a messy manner, making his skin look even whiter, but revealing a kind of rosy and gorgeous aftermath.
On the side, Xirui stood beside the sofa, looking down at Atalan's sleeping face, with a lasting tenderness in his eyes.
He gently took off his coat and carefully covered Atalan with it, fearing to wake him up.
The coat still retained the scent of Xirui's body temperature and ebony agarwood, as if silently dispelling the cold for the king.
Afraid that the sharp edge of the brooch would prick Atalan, Xirui reached out and gently removed the brooch, then adjusted his own coat on Atalan to ensure that he would not catch a cold.
The imperial robe with a white background and gold threads was still worn by Atalan, but it was slightly disheveled, exuding a lazy beauty.
Because he didn't have a coat, Xirui looked down at his clothes. The vest was still neatly on his body, but without the cover of the coat, it looked more neat.
The snow-white carpet in the room was stained and dirty.
——Maybe it needs to be changed.
However, this is not what Xirui should worry about now.
Xirui exhaled softly, turned and walked out of the room, his steps slow, as if afraid of disturbing Atalan's sleep.
The golden door slowly opened and gently closed, making a low sound, as if silently announcing the end of some secret.
Xirui's figure walked out from behind the door, looking particularly slender in the dim corridor.
His vest fit tightly to his body, outlining his broad shoulders and straight waistline. His steps were calm and elegant, with an extraordinary demeanor.
Kaide, who had been guarding the door for several hours, saw Xirui coming out and quickly stepped forward and saluted respectfully:
"Your Excellency, the Honorable Male Insect."
Xirui nodded, glanced at Cade, and whispered, as if afraid of disturbing the people inside:
"Your Majesty is tired and is resting. Is the banquet over?"
What Cade couldn't ignore was that Xirui was filled with an extremely strong scent of golden iris pheromones - that was the aura of His Majesty, aloof and noble.
At this moment, it is intertwined with Xirui's ebony and agarwood, as if silently declaring some kind of secret possession.
The expression on Cade's face was slightly stiff, almost unable to hold it together.
His heart was filled with extremely complicated emotions, including shock, helplessness, and even a hint of indescribable frustration.
Your Majesty, Your Majesty!
How did... this male insect succeed?
Hearing Xirui's question, Cade's expression became a little uncontrollable - even the voices sounded so similar - he then bent down, trying to hide his mixed emotions:
"Yes, sir. The banquet is over and most of the guests have left."
Xirui nodded, said nothing more, and walked towards the banquet hall.
The lights in the corridor were dim, shining on the male insect's profile, making it look clear-cut, deep and cold.
Cade looked up, his eyes involuntarily falling on Xirui's face, and he couldn't help but sigh in his heart - she really has a good appearance.
The eyebrows, the outline, and even the temperament in the gestures are so similar to the male insect from that year.
A complex wave of emotions welled up in Cade's heart.
The dusty memories of the past were quietly awakened, as if they slipped out quietly from the cracks of time.
Cade lowered his head and stopped looking. He just stood silently at the door like a silent statue.
In fact, Cade is the chief aide of His Majesty Atalan. His duty is to protect His Majesty Atalan and the empire's golden iris at all times.
His loyalty is as natural as his breathing and has long been integrated into his bones and blood.
Your Majesty is the true sun of the empire.
The sun will shine on the entire empire and protect the entire empire.
Back then, when the rebels conquered the thirty-seven star systems, Cade was still very young.
He didn't have many memories of the male insect, and their interactions were not many, but Cade remembered it very clearly - he would never forget how His Majesty Atalan looked at the male insect back then.
A love so deep that it's almost strong.
The look of love cannot be hidden.
His Majesty Atalan back then shouldered countless burdens, but he would only smile in front of that male insect.
Today, Cade saw a familiar shadow in Xirui.
Cade knew that he had no right to interfere with His Majesty's choice, nor could he judge the male insect's behavior.
He could only guard here silently, just like the countless days and nights in the past, guarding His Majesty Atalan and the empire's golden iris.
Even though he sighed silently in his heart, Cade could only suppress all his emotions.
Whether Xirui is the bloodline of the male insect from that year is important, but not that important.
Most importantly,
He only hoped... that His Majesty would not be as sad as he was back then.
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