Chapter 302 Thunder and Rain, All are Imperial Grace
Wang Yanzhi's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
He maintained that upward-looking, almost sacrificial posture for a long time before speaking very softly.
"Your subject... dares not." His voice contained no dissatisfaction or resentment, only complete obedience.
"Thunder and rain, all are the Emperor's grace. All matters of the previous dynasty were decided by Your Majesty's holy heart. Your servant... only asks to serve Your Majesty and to see Your Majesty's face, that would be enough."
He no longer mentioned the Wang family, nor did he make any demands; he simply placed himself entirely in the position of a woman in the harem who longed for the emperor's favor.
Li Yuanzhao did not respond immediately.
She remained in that close position, her gaze fixed intently on his trembling eyelashes.
It was as if they were judging how much of his words were a genuine concession and how much were a helpless expedient.
But she didn't know.
She didn't know that what was churning in Wang Yanzhi's heart at that moment was not entirely anxiety about pleading for his family, nor simply fear of succumbing to power.
What he wanted from the very beginning was not to relieve the Wang family's predicament.
Perhaps, in the daily cold and lonely days of Qiushui Residence over the past two years, while listening to the faint sounds of singing and laughter from other favored gentlemen in the distance.
The pride and ambition that once sustained him as the legitimate son of the Taiyuan Wang family had long been silently eroded and crushed.
He had sat by the window countless times, watching the leaves in the courtyard grow from sprouting to withering.
While imagining how the long-dead Guard Chen, the man who supposedly once occupied Her Majesty's entire heart, managed to win her unconditional love.
She was jealous of the men who could easily catch her eye or even enjoy her favor for a night, imagining how they pleased and delighted her.
On the one hand, he shrank even further into the corner, not daring to get close, afraid to see the indifference and disgust he had already anticipated in her eyes.
That's more despairing than simply ignoring someone.
Until his father's letter reached him.
With the family on the verge of collapse, the father was in a state of utter distress and pinned his last hope on this long-forgotten "Attendant Minister".
At that moment, amidst the absurdity and sorrow, Wang Yanzhi felt a kind of almost twisted... relief and secret excitement.
He finally had a reason.
A perfectly legitimate, blameless, and even tragic reason to approach her, to attract her attention, and to... let her "see" herself again.
This thought, like a poisonous vine, quietly took root, entwining his remaining reason and pride.
The very tactics he once loathed for vying for favor have now become the only weapon he might be able to use.
He despised himself while meticulously planning everything for tonight, almost to the point of self-torture.
All of this was just so that she... could look at him.
Finally, Li Yuanzhao slowly straightened up and created some distance between them.
She released her grip on his chin, but her fingertips traced the contours of his cheek, moving with a slow, deliberate force, as if scrutinizing an object.
It brushed across his slightly reddened chin, across his prominent Adam's apple, and finally stopped at his tense...
Through the thin, snow-white gauze, I could clearly feel the warm touch and the rapid heartbeat beneath.
Her fingertips were icy cold, yet wherever they touched, they sent a subtle shiver down Wang Yanzhi's skin.
The shiver spread through my veins, and even my breathing became rapid.
Under the flickering candlelight, layers of curtains hung to the ground, vaguely revealing two overlapping figures behind the curtains.
The blankets on the bed had slipped off at some point, revealing the messy bed and scattered clothes underneath.
The air inside the tent was hot and viscous, with rapid breathing rising and falling, mixed with the rustling of clothes rubbing together, and occasionally a muffled groan that was being suppressed but still escaped from between the teeth.
The shadows flickered with the candlelight, and two hands were vaguely visible.
One finger bone was clearly visible, bearing the thin calluses left from practicing martial arts and reviewing memorials.
The other hand was long and pale, but it was now tightly gripping the messy brocade quilt beneath it, its knuckles turning white from the force.
Yet, at some point, as if yearning for something, it trembled and hesitated, then wrapped itself around the wrist that controlled everything.
Fingertips timidly brushed against the other person's skin, carrying an almost humble dependence.
Seeing the submissive posture and expression of the person before him, Li Yuanzhao smiled slightly.
It turns out that pride is so easily broken.
She picked up the white silk ribbon that had been around his waist and, like a living vine, wrapped it around his two restless wrists, then climbed up his arms and neck.
Wang Yanzhi's face was so red it was almost bleeding, and he could hardly breathe.
"It hurts." His voice was so hoarse that it was barely audible, and the last syllable of his words trembled and drifted away in the air.
It was less a protest and more an unconscious yearning.
The response he received was Li Yuanzhao's deep voice, carrying an undeniable command.
"Isn't this exactly what you like about me treating you? Just bear with it!"
At that moment, Wang Yanzhi's mind went blank.
He thought he would feel ashamed, deeply humiliated by this situation of being manipulated, controlled, and even humiliated.
But no.
But at this moment, he only felt extreme joy.
Even if this pleasure is mixed with the pain of the body being excessively demanded, the suffocating feeling of not being able to breathe, and the trembling of having one's soul completely seen through and nowhere to hide...
He couldn't wait to want more, much more.
More of this kind of control, more of this kind of force that crushes and reshapes him, more of this kind of... real touch that allows him to temporarily forget everything.
He could feel himself trembling, not just in his body, but also in something deep within his soul that was collapsing, melting, and then twisting and reborn in the blazing flames.
He no longer thought about family, dignity, or pride...
Those things he once cherished as his life were now utterly crushed beneath him in the snow-white brocade, soaked with sweat and mud.
He willingly knelt at her feet, even in a disheveled state, just to wait for her moment of pity and to sink into depravity with her.
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