"Qingchen..." he called out again.
In the quiet of the night, his voice was clear and slightly magnetic, carrying a familiar quality that blurred her vision with tears. Hearing that voice, her heart felt as if it had finally returned to a comfortable place.
Before this, was it anxiety, worry, concern, or longing?
For over twenty years, she seemed to have never experienced this feeling. She was the rising star of the court, Lady Shen, yet she was so clumsy that she couldn't even sort out her thoughts. She had completely lost the composure she displayed when facing academic and official duties, and the confidence and ease she showed when offering advice to the emperor and the crown prince.
It was as if fate had suddenly lifted her up and placed her on an unfamiliar track. Everything around her was functioning normally, but she dared not move forward, nor could she retreat. She was lost and confused, seemingly waiting, yet unsure of what she was waiting for.
Now that he's back, what should we say?
Shen Qingchen lay quietly on her side on the bed, pondered her state of mind for a while, and then gently exhaled.
Song Yue's voice did not sound again.
She got up, threw on a coat, and opened the door for him.
Outside the door, the light snow was still falling.
He wore a dark fur cloak, carried a lantern in his hand, and had already turned and walked two steps away. The lantern's light was dim and indistinct, and his silhouette also gave off a hazy and indistinct feeling.
Hearing the sound, Song Yue stopped and turned around. "I thought you were asleep."
His face remained as serene as ever, his handsome features etched with unparalleled elegance, yet revealing no emotion. Or rather, if one had to find an emotion, there was only one—composure.
"No." He ran away after the kiss, disappeared for a whole day without saying a word. Who could possibly sleep like that?
"You got up early today, are you tired? I heard you don't eat much, I was worried you'd be hungry." He turned around, but didn't move forward, just stood there.
The light from the lanterns spread to her feet.
"I'm not hungry," she said calmly, tucking her coat in.
When you're too hungry, you stop feeling hungry.
He looked at her and nodded. "That's good. It's cold, close the door quickly and go inside for a good night's sleep."
"Okay." She straightened her clothes. "Then I'll go to sleep now. Teacher, you too."
"Um."
After saying that, Qingchen took a step back and closed the door in front of him. A cold wind rushed into the room, and it was quite chilly.
After standing still for a moment, she walked back to the clothes rack, slowly took off her outer garment, and draped it over it. Seeing the court robes beside her, she couldn't help but reach out and touch them. After all, she was still an official of the Ming Dynasty.
At that moment, there was another knock on the door.
Qingchen's heart skipped a beat.
She stood quietly, listening to the indistinct knocking.
"Qingchen." It was Song Yue's voice again.
She walked to the door, took a breath, and asked, "Is there anything else, teacher?" Judging from his expression, hadn't he already said everything he needed to say?
"Would you like to talk for a bit?"
After a moment of silence, she asked, "What did you say?"
Are you dressed warmly enough? Are you cold?
"...I just took off my coat and hung it on the rack, there's a little bit of it."
"Then go get your coat and put it on."
She hesitated for a moment, then answered "Mm," before going back to put on her clothes and walking back to the door. "All done."
He didn't reply, whether because he didn't hear or because he didn't know what to say.
Qingchen pressed himself against the door, his head slightly lowered, and asked again, "Teacher, are you cold standing outside?"
"It's not cold."
Qingchen was momentarily at a loss for words. How come it was she who asked the question when he was the one who wanted to speak?
Song Yue's voice finally came again, "After the court assembly today, I wanted to go down and talk to you, but there were too many people around to congratulate me, and I couldn't go down for a long time."
"As a high-ranking official, the teacher naturally has to attend many social events in such crowded places." Sometimes, he would even attend these events until midnight, only returning home after everyone else had gone to sleep.
After a moment of silence, he suddenly said, "I want to see you again. Now."
"..." Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and she felt her heart suddenly race again.
These words are completely unlike what he would say. Usually, he is so mature and composed, so calm and collected, always with an air of unwavering composure, as if he could remain unmoved even if Mount Tai collapsed on top of him, making people feel that he is always in complete control.
He had never said such an uncontrollable thing.
Qingchen opened the door and looked at him.
Song Yue stood under the eaves, the wind blowing his cloak, the lantern light softly illuminating his body and outlining his tall and straight figure.
His dark eyes looked very deep, with a few snowflakes on his eyelashes.
"Come in." She stepped aside. "It's cold outside."
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but finally blew out the lantern, put it down, and went inside.
Qingchen hadn't had time to light the lamp yet. After the door closed, the room suddenly went dark, with only a little bit of pale moonlight coming in through the window.
She stood facing him at the doorway, but couldn't see his face clearly; she could only hear his breathing and her own.
Qingchen pursed her lips and whispered, "I'll go light the lamps..."
Before she could even take a step, he suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms.
“No need.” He put his arm around her and whispered in her ear, “I can see clearly.”
The moment her skin touched his strong chest, Qingchen's breath hitched, and her heart skipped a beat. His pleasant scent enveloped her instantly.
"In front of you, I seem unable to restrain myself at all," he said calmly.
Qingchen didn't speak, but simply let her face press against his body, closing her eyes to feel her heartbeat.
He stopped talking and just quietly held her in his arms.
After a while, he loosened his grip slightly, then gently cupped her face and lowered his head to seal her lips with his.
Qingchen felt his heart race and his breathing become uncontrollable. The touch on his lips was soft and warm, those lips gently and persistently entwining with his—the Second Grand Secretary of the Ming Dynasty.
After sipping for a while, Song Yue released Qingchen, took a breath, and looked at her.
Qingchen looked up, staring back at him without blinking, her slightly unfocused eyes misty.
After gazing at each other for a moment, he suddenly pulled her close again, took a step back against the door, and let her rest against his chest. Then, he accurately aimed for her lips and kissed her once more.
This time, there was less tenderness and more turmoil... He held her tightly, as if he couldn't control himself, or perhaps he didn't want to control himself anymore, sucking her lips until they were red, his tongue probing into her mouth between her teeth.
Qingchen lay helplessly and powerlessly on him, somewhat dazed as he let his tongue entwine around hers. Her mouth was wet and tight, as if he had stolen all the air from her, and her heart was pounding violently in her chest.
Only two words filled her mind... Song Yue.
The moon disappeared behind the clouds, and there was no light left in the room; the night was deep.
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