Chapter 90, Chapter 90: Torrential Rain.
Heavy rain washed over the pagoda, creating a vast expanse of white mist.
Zhong Changjun had served the Emperor for many years, and what happened tonight was the most terrifying thing in his life. He witnessed the Emperor leaving everyone behind and rushing into the burning pagoda, and his heart sank into a cold abyss.
The Great Qi Dynasty was founded by the late emperor only five years ago, and the country is finally stable under the current emperor. He only got married three years after ascending the throne, and has not had a child yet. Now he has rushed into the sea of fire. If something happens to him, what kind of situation will be left behind?
Cold sweat trickled down Zhong Changjun's neck. He immediately sent someone to follow the emperor. During this long, seemingly endless wait, his legs felt weak and unsteady, and he could barely support himself.
It wasn't until he saw the emperor and empress leave the pagoda that he was startled by the freezing rain and hurriedly went forward.
"Your Majesty, Her Majesty..."
Only when they got closer could they hear a low sobbing coming from the emperor's chest.
The empress's shoulders trembled, and she sobbed incoherently, her arms tightly wrapped around the emperor's body, holding him close.
The young king raised his hand and gently patted her back, softly reassuring her, "It's alright, you're out now."
She seemed still not recovered from her shock, raising her face, which was blackened at the edges by the smoke, and her eyes were already tinged with red.
Xiao Zhuo had no choice but to hold her tighter, his arms firmly encircling her body. He lowered his face and spoke in a soft, soothing voice, while raising his hand to undo his outer robe and drape it over her shoulders.
Yuan Chaolu wrapped her arms around his neck, but he turned her face away and pressed his lips against her temple, reminding her, "We're still outside."
Yuan Chaolu then stopped sobbing.
Xiao Zhuo summoned Jia Li and the Grand Marshal, ordering them to stay and handle the remaining matters. He then escorted the Empress in his arms and left.
The ministers and nobles bowed and said, "Respectfully seeing off Your Majesty and Your Highness."
But the current situation is like the churning water beneath a calm surface.
Even though everyone knew that the Empress was extremely special to this Emperor, no one expected that he would go to such lengths for her in such a critical moment.
Among the crowd, Helan Yi stood in the cold rain, his eyebrows and eyes wet with raindrops, watching the scene of the emperor escorting the empress onto the carriage.
Just now, when he saw the flames soaring into the sky, he almost instinctively rushed into the pagoda, but the emperor had already done so.
What consequences would it have on a nation that had only recently begun to stabilize after decades of chaos if an emperor in the prime of his life were to meet with an unexpected event?
The emperor must know.
Helan Yi slowly withdrew his gaze.
**
A fire changed everything, and the originally joyous Empress Dowager's birthday celebration took a sharp turn for the worse.
In Changqiu Palace, not long after the Empress returned to the palace, hot water had already been prepared.
When the palace maid came to the Empress's side and whispered a reminder, she was holding a damp towel and standing in front of the copper basin for washing her face, lost in thought. Her face was clean of dust, but it was excessively pale.
She was soaking wet, still wearing the emperor's outer robe, with water droplets pooling at her feet.
"Your Majesty, the hot water is ready. This servant will help you change your clothes."
No sooner had she finished speaking than footsteps came from the outer hall, and the Empress suddenly came to her senses and looked over.
A tall, slender shadow fell on the curtain. As a long, elegant hand lifted the curtain, the beaded curtain made a crisp clinking sound, and a handsome, flawless face appeared behind it.
Their eyes met. His gaze was cold and dark as a chasm. The beaded curtain fell on his silver crown, and a few strands of hair beneath it were damp and clung to his face.
As Xiao Zhuo entered, he saw Yuan Chaolu with deep red eyes, looking as if he had been pulled out of the water, staring at him.
He was soaked to the bone by the rain. From the moment he saw her trapped in the fire to this very night, he still felt his blood boiling, a burning sensation coursing through his veins.
Xiao Zhuo suddenly stepped forward, grabbed Yuan Chaolu's arm, and, under the astonished gazes of Zhong Changjun and the palace servants behind him, pressed her against the side of the table. He then lifted the Empress's skirt and ordered the people in the hall, "Get down."
Just as Yuan Chaolu was about to speak, his lips sealed hers.
Her skin flushed red, as if scalded by hot water. She thought, "Wait a moment," but her breath had already been taken away.
With his heart pounding, he pulled at the sash on her skirt and said, "The Empress is exceptionally clever. Is she truly unable to discern my intentions, or is she deliberately feigning it?"
Yuan Chaolu was still reeling from the kiss; a tingling sensation ran up her neck, and her tongue felt weak in waves. He took her hands and began to wrap his belt around her wrists. Her eyes were wet, like a deer's.
"Do you really think that I'll forgive you every time you play the victim? Do you think I'll fall for that act?"
"I didn't..."
Yuan Chaolu opened her mouth to defend herself, but her tongue was weak and the sound that came out from deep in her throat was really unbearable to hear. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, her lower back was painfully pressed against the cold, hard table, and her front waist was pressed against his burning lower abdomen.
Xiao Zhuo tied a knot around her wrists, binding her hands tightly so that she couldn't untie them at all.
Then, Yuan Chaolu was turned over by him.
The rain pounded against the windows, the world was shrouded in darkness, and the hall was filled with a damp mist; the downpour was truly immense.
The writing brushes and ink on the desk had been swept to the floor, leaving only a single candle flickering, swaying with the desk and in a position that made one worry it might topple over at any moment.
The hall was quiet; you could hear breathing.
The fine veins on Yuan Chaolu's neck glided, her lips were slightly parted, and her long, black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. A few strands of hair clung to the back of the man's hand that was pressing down on her slender waist, occasionally brushing against the bulging veins on it caused by the exertion of force.
Her bound hands were raised above her head, her fingertips gripping the table as if desperately trying to grasp something, but she only grasped at empty air.
Her robes were still damp and clung to her body. The air was distinctly cold, yet her cheeks felt as if they were covered in a layer of heat. At first, she remembered his words and didn't want him to think she was feigning pitifulness, so she refused to utter a sound. But later, her cheeks turned completely red, and she desperately needed something to distract herself from the layers of discomfort. So she simply gave up and called out to him, "Your Majesty..."
He pressed his shoulder down against her shoulder blade, his breath warm against the hollow of her neck, and said gently, "Morning Dew."
But then, he slapped her buttocks hard.
A wave of shame washed over him from head to toe, and Yuan Chaolu's face suddenly flushed several degrees. He turned around, his back slightly bent, and asked, "What is Your Majesty doing?"
Xiao Zhuo braced himself on his arms beside her, the muscles beneath his loose robes revealing their definition. "When I brought you back from Chanxu Temple, I don't believe you didn't know what my intentions were."
Yuan Chaolu said, "Your Majesty's indifference towards me is so cold that I dare not speculate on His Majesty's intentions."
"Is it that you dare not speculate, or that you haven't tried to speculate at all?"
Yuan Chaolu understood what he meant. He had already given her a way out, but she still couldn't coax him enough. Clearly, her husband needed more sweet words and a sincere apology from her.
Before he finished speaking, his hand grasped mine, flowing like hot water.
Yuan Chaolu tilted her head back, feeling the candle flicker and grow brighter. Her eyes were misty with tears as she called out, "Cousin, Third Brother..."
Yuan Chaolu moved her body with difficulty and slowly turned to face him. In such a narrow space and under such circumstances, both of them gasped for breath as they made this movement.
"I did something wrong, but Third Brother always taught me properly before." She looked at him with seductive eyes, raised her bound arms, wrapped them around his head, and pulled his cheeks to her face.
The man slowly raised his head in front of her, his stray hairs brushing against his moist eyelids, his long, slender eyes bloodshot.
"Good Third Brother, please teach Chaolu."
As soon as she finished speaking, she felt the blood in his body burning hotter and hotter. She raised her cheek and pressed it boldly against his Adam's apple. "If Third Brother hadn't taught me properly, how would I have known what I should and shouldn't do..."
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as she repeatedly kissed him.
"Today, Third Brother risked his life to save his cousin. He clearly still loves her. Third Brother is a good person."
He gazed at her for a long time, then suddenly chuckled softly, "Okay."
He flipped her onto the table, his well-defined hand sliding down her lower back, his long, slender fingers clearly defined. Then, he slapped her buttocks, the crisp sound echoing in the hall.
Yuan Chaolu shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears, almost ashamed to the point of crying, "Third Brother..."
He leaned closer, his long eyelashes like curtains, bathed in a flowing, clear light from the candlelight, and said, "Where shall the Empress begin her teachings? May I punish her properly?"
Yuan Chaolu was trapped on the small table, and her whole body was about to collapse.
If her husband were a weak emperor, she might have been able to manage, but he was a king who conquered the country on horseback. Even after ascending the throne, he never gave up riding and archery. He was lean and strong with long muscles, like a nimble wolf or leopard... How could Yuan Chaolu possibly withstand him?
In addition, this man is cunning and manipulative. He used every means to provoke Yuan Chaolu, pushing her luck and forcing her with words, until she finally shed tears. Several times she slumped over the table, but he pulled her back each time.
All she could see were her own hands, bound by her skirt and hanging limply by the table.
Will the Empress lie to me again next time?
Yuan Chaolu trembled: "It won't happen again..."
The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking the night, and it seemed the long night would never end. The flowering tree by the window, lush and full from the rain, could no longer bear the weight and was mercilessly knocked to the ground.
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