Qingchen carried a face towel, soap, and a change of clothes, and held a candlestick as she entered the clean room.
As the night grew colder, Qingchen got goosebumps the moment his skin came into contact with the air after taking off his clothes.
She sat on a small wooden stool, scooped some water with a wooden ladle, and poured it over her body. Her pores immediately opened comfortably, and her skin quickly turned red. She let out a soft sigh.
The washroom was right next to the main house, very close by. So when Qingchen began her bath, the sound of water reached the main house, crisp and melodious. In this kind of weather, what travels faster and farther than sound is scent. Qingchen used osmanthus soap for her bath, and through the narrow crack in the door, wafts of osmanthus fragrance quickly reached Song Yue's nose, sounding both real and indistinct.
The night was quiet and still, but these sounds and smells seemed to be etched into one's heart without one noticing, radiating a strange attraction.
Song Yue was sitting in the room drinking tea and reading, but he was distracted by these things. After a moment of silence, he simply got up and opened the window, letting the cold wind blow across his face.
In the clean room, the moisture became increasingly hazy and indistinct.
Qingchen washed her hair too. She swept it to one side, letting it fall down her delicate neck and shoulders, covering one side of her chest and creating a rounded curve. She combed her hair until it was smooth and silky, and when a ladle of water was poured over it, her black hair flowed like a waterfall of ink.
Her slender body was exposed to the air, and she felt slightly cold. Her long, thin legs were together, and her knees trembled slightly.
After cleaning herself, she dried her body with a towel and wrung out her hair. Just as she was about to get dressed, she accidentally dropped the strip of cloth that had been wrapped around her breast into the wooden basin.
Her heart skipped a beat.
There was still some water in the wooden basin, and the strip of cloth was immediately soaked through. She had conveniently forgotten to bring an extra one before leaving home today.
This is bad news; she can no longer bind her chest. Although the robe is loose, without a bra strap, the shape of her breasts is still visible.
Song Yue was right outside.
Qingchen immediately felt embarrassed and flustered. A man and a woman alone in a room was already an ambiguous situation, and her disheveled appearance made it seem as if she had ulterior motives.
After gritting her teeth and getting dressed, she called out to Song Yue, "Teacher?"
His voice came quickly, "Hmm? What's wrong?"
"Could you check the swing for me? I think I left a book there. I'm afraid I'll forget to bring it back when I go back tomorrow morning."
He agreed and then left the house.
Qingchen listened intently to the sounds outside, and after confirming that he had already gone to the courtyard, he quickly slipped out of the clean room, entered the main house, climbed onto the bed, and covered himself tightly with the quilt.
A short while later, Song Yue returned from outside and was taken aback when he saw Qing Chen on the bed. "...There are no books outside."
Qingchen had already pulled the blanket up to her chin. "Oh, maybe I remembered wrong. Maybe it's on the table."
He walked to the bedside and saw that her hair was still a little damp, and her clean face was even whiter and clearer. He asked softly, "Are you done washing?"
"Mm." She nodded.
"Your hair is still a little wet. Sit up and let me dry it for you. It's not comfortable to sleep like this."
Qingchen quickly shook her head, "No need, no need. Teacher has been busy all day, you should go and wash up too." She thought that while he was washing up, she could put the bodice on the stove to dry, and then she could wear it.
Song Yue was somewhat puzzled by her eagerness to have him perform the ritual, which even revealed a hint of anticipation in her eyes. Nevertheless, he nodded, picked up his bundle, and went to the purification room.
Qingchen waited quietly for a while, and only after confirming that she heard the sound of water coming from the washroom did she quickly get out of bed. She had been clutching the strip of cloth that had been wrapped around her breast in her hand, hidden under the covers, and now her hand was wet and cold.
She unfolded the strip of cloth, held it in one hand, and placed it on the stove to heat it, while constantly tossing her hair with the other hand.
The charcoal fire in the stove was burning brightly, occasionally crackling and popping.
When the sound of water in the bathroom stopped for a moment, she stiffened and listened intently for Song Yue's footsteps to make sure he was finished washing. Only when she heard no more footsteps and the sound of water resumed did she feel relieved and continue drying.
While the strips of cloth were drying, the sound of water from Song Yue's side hadn't stopped. Qingchen hesitated for a moment, then hurriedly took off her tops one by one, preparing to wrap her chest.
She roughly calculated that even if he suddenly finished showering, got dressed, and came back, it would still take some time. She would have enough time to bind her breasts before he returned.
The lamp emitted an orange-yellow light, making the room feel warm. The light fell on Qingchen, who was naked from the waist up, making her body appear even whiter and more delicate, with skin as smooth as cream.
Qingchen had just finished taking off her clothes when she heard the water stop. She was startled for a moment, then told herself that she still needed to dry herself and get dressed, so she quickly grabbed her breast wrap and hurried away.
Suddenly, the door was pushed open, and a chill rushed into the room, followed by Song Yue's voice, "I made it for you..."
He stopped abruptly after saying only half of what he had said.
The sight before him made him pause for a moment. A girl with long black hair sat on a round stool, turned to the side, with half of her body and back facing him. Her upper body was bare, her hair falling over her shoulders and back, and her back and slender waist were faintly visible beneath her black hair.
Beneath that panicked profile and slender, white neck lay a round, exposed breast that she hadn't yet bound. Its nipple was slightly upturned, a pale pink.
Winter wasn't quite over yet, but the house was already filled with the enchanting colors of spring.
Song Yue felt his breath catch slightly.
Coming to her senses, Qingchen hurriedly grabbed the clothes she had taken off and covered her chest, explaining shyly, "I... my bra fell into the water, and I wanted to dry it..."
She was focused on covering her chest and talking to him, but didn't notice that the strip of cloth that wrapped her breast had slipped down to the side of the stove.
"Be careful," Song Yue warned, putting down what he was holding on the table and strode over to snatch the small object that was about to be burned.
Holding the object in his hand, Qingchen blushed with embarrassment and stammered to Song Yue, who was standing close by, "You, how come you came out so quickly... I heard your water splashing just stop..."
How could he have dressed so quickly, and come over without making a sound? This was completely different from what she had expected.
He said calmly, "I washed them a long time ago. I just went to the kitchen to wash a dish and pack what I made for you. I wanted to surprise you, so I deliberately didn't make a sound."
She lowered her head shyly and whispered, "Oh."
He walked behind her, pulled up a stool and sat down. "Let me help you. It's cold at night, so you'd better put on some clothes quickly."
Qingchen paused for a moment, then turned to look at him. "You'll help me?..."
“Turn around,” he said gently. “Pull your hair up.”
She removed the garment covering her chest and then tossed her hair back. He unfolded the strip of cloth binding her breast, securing one end to her back with a finger, then stretched the cloth with his other hand, wrapping it around her chest. Round and round, his movements were careful and gentle, his hands never touching her body.
Qingchen sat quietly, tossing her hair, without saying a word. The faint scent of soap wafted from Song Yue, carrying his unique aroma, and she could also hear his soft breathing.
He could see nothing but her back, and his hands didn't touch an inch of her skin, yet what he was doing for her was undeniably intimate. The feeling was strange, making her heart flutter slightly.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"It's not cold." The stove was right next to them, and her blood was boiling; her face was already flushed. "And you?"
"Not cold," he replied casually. In fact, he even felt a little warm.
After a moment of silence, Qingchen asked again, "When was the thing you just brought in made?"
"In the afternoon, when you are taking a nap."
"Oh. What is it?"
"You'll see when you eat it."
"I didn't see anything in the kitchen when I was washing the dishes. Where did you hide it?"
"In the cellar."
"There's a cellar here?"
“Yes, it’s under the kitchen,” he said. “It’s colder in the cellar, so it’ll solidify faster.”
"Hmm..." she couldn't help but wonder, what is it?
"Alright." He tied the strip of cloth in a knot behind her, then picked up her clothes from beside her feet and covered her body.
Qingchen was about to get dressed when she saw Song Yue walk up to her and tie her sash.
She looked up at him and said, "Thank you."
Then, under Qingchen's expectant gaze, Song Yue brought the food he had made to her.
"This is..." Upon seeing what was in the bowl, Qingchen looked at her with surprise and delight.
"The hawthorn berries you like to eat."
Before the Lunar New Year, they went shopping for New Year's goods together. When he asked if she wanted to keep the Grand Secretary as a mistress, she bought him some.
How could you do that?
"I had the kitchen teach me before I came." He looked at her. "Is it good?"
"Mmm!" she replied between bites. This small bowl of food required quite a bit of effort to prepare. It tasted like jelly, a little cool, sweet with a hint of sourness, and had the aroma of osmanthus and hawthorn.
Just like the taste of love.
...
It's late at night.
After Qingchen lay down on the bed, Song Yue went to the table to turn off the light and then lay down on the bed as well.
Her heart pounded as she smelled his fragrance.
In the darkness, Song Yue held Qingchen's hand and asked softly, "Are you cold?"
"It's not cold."
He hummed in agreement, leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep."
"Hmm?" she responded softly, but her tone rose slightly at the end.
"Hmm?" he asked softly in return, then moved his lips down to hers, "Don't you want to sleep yet?"
"no……"
"Should we do something?"
"Huh?" She pretended not to know what he was talking about.
"Hmm?" He breathed softly, moved closer to her, and kissed her lips.
He stretched out his long arm and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her passionately. After a while, he released her and tentatively asked, "Hmm?"
Just then, someone knocked on the door from outside.
Qingchen was a little nervous.
Song Yue gently patted her blanket and comforted her, "Don't be afraid. Only familiar people come here."
Then, he covered her with the blanket, got up, put on a coat, and opened the door.
The person outside the door was his coachman.
He said, “My lord, the Emperor urgently summons you to the palace. People from the palace have come to your residence looking for you, saying that the Emperor insists on seeing you tonight no matter what… It’s very urgent.”
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