Chapter 287: Red candle tears cold, drunken eyes mistaken
In the new rooms of Prince Rong's west courtyard, red candles burned brightly, illuminating the room like daylight. The air was thick with the sweet fragrance of lilies, mingling with the slightly astringent aroma of newly lacquered furniture and brocade bedding, a sweetness so thick it made one feel a bit suffocated. A giant "囍" character was affixed to the window frame, casting a distorted shadow in the flickering candlelight, a silent mockery.
Yongqi stood frozen by the door, his brand-new, bright red wedding attire weighing a thousand pounds, choking him. His gaze swept across the sea of crimson, feeling only a glare and unfamiliarity. He could still hear the clamor of gongs and drums from the ancestral hall and the high-pitched chants of the master of ceremonies. Each syllable was like a needle, piercing the empty space in his heart—a place that should have held his bright, sun-like little swallow, but now filled with cold ritual and irresistible responsibilities.
"Your Highness..." A gentle call brought him back to his senses.
Chen Zhihua sat upright on the edge of her bed, covered with a crimson dragon-and-phoenix quilt, the red veil above her head unmoved. Her hands folded in her lap, her fingertips slightly curled, a subtle hint of nervousness and anticipation evident. The candlelight filtered through the veil, outlining her beautiful profile, gentle and serene.
The bridesmaid, beaming, stepped forward, carrying a golden nanmu tray. On the tray sat two small, delicate white jade wine glasses, the wine gleaming amber in the candlelight. "Your Highness, please help the concubine with the veil, and then drink the wedding wine. From now on, husband and wife will be one, living in harmony and happiness!" The bridesmaid's voice was filled with ingratiating joy.
Yongqi took a deep breath, suppressed his annoyance and resistance, and walked heavily to the bedside. He picked up the jade ruyi from the tray, the cool touch making his fingertips tremble slightly. He reached out his hand, and with a somewhat stiff movement, he touched the unsightly red veil.
As the veil slowly slipped off, Chen Zhihua's meticulously painted face was revealed. Her long, dark eyebrows, affectionate eyes, and rosy lips made her look particularly charming in the candlelight. She raised her eyelids slightly, looking at Yongqi with just the right amount of shyness, a gentle smile playing on her lips: "Your Highness..."
Yongqi's gaze fell on her face, but it seemed to penetrate her, unfocused. This face was beautiful, but like a delicate painted skin, it did not stir the slightest ripple in his heart. He felt only a wave of fatigue, and just wanted to quickly end this suffocating ceremony.
"Wine." His voice was low and hoarse, with unmistakable fatigue.
The bridesmaid quickly brought the tray over. Yongqi didn't even look at it, but reached out to take one of the cups.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch the wine glass, a flicker of determination flashed across Chen Zhihua's eyes. Her slender fingers seemingly carelessly brushed the rim of the glass in front of her. Hidden between her pinky nails, a tiny, almost invisible drop of powder silently slid into the glass, instantly dissolving into the amber liquor.
"Your Highness, please." She held up her glass of drugged wine, her voice soft as water, a barely perceptible tremor in it, as she passed it to Yongqi. Her eyes locked onto his, filled with desperate anticipation and hidden calculations.
Yongqi was completely unaware, his mind solely focused on dealing with the situation as quickly as possible. He took the wine glass without even glancing at Chen Zhihua, his arm stiffly threaded through her arm holding the glass.
“Drink the wedding wine——” the bridesmaid sang loudly.
The two white jade cups clinked gently, making a crisp sound. Yongqi closed his eyes and emptied the wine in the cup. The spicy liquid slid down his throat, bringing a strange burning sensation straight to his head.
Chen Zhihua also raised her head and drank it all. When she put down the glass, her eyes looked at Yongqi even more scorchingly, and two red clouds appeared on her cheeks. She didn't know whether it was because of the alcohol, the effect of the medicine, or the excitement in her heart.
The bridesmaid and the maids tactfully bowed and withdrew. The heavy door gently closed, shutting out the clamor of the outside world. The only sounds in the large bridal chamber were the occasional crackling of the burning red candles and the couple's slightly rapid breathing.
The alcohol, mixed with the colorless, odorless drug, rapidly took effect within Yongqi. He felt an indescribable heat rising from his lower abdomen, instantly sweeping through his limbs and bones, making his head spin. The scene before him began to spin and blur, the glaring red color distorted into a chaotic mess of light and shadow. He shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the irritating dizziness.
At that moment, his blurry vision caught sight of the red figure beside the bed. That bright wedding dress… that vague outline… Under the combined effects of the drug and the alcohol, a name etched into his bones burst out uncontrollably:
"Little...Little Swallow?" His voice was unclear, with a strong sense of drunkenness and a kind of ecstasy of regaining what had been lost.
The smile on Chen Zhihua's face froze instantly, as if drenched in ice water, the color draining away completely. She stared at the man in front of her with a dazed look in disbelief. The burning longing and love in his eyes were clear, yet it wasn't for her at all! That call, like a poisoned dagger, stabbed fiercely into her heart.
However, before she could react, Yongqi had already taken a sudden step forward. His tall figure carried an irresistible force, and his scorching hands suddenly grasped her cheeks. His palms were scorching, and his eyes were so intense that they seemed to set her on fire, yet they pierced through her, as if he were looking into another soul.
"Xiaoyanzi! It's you! You look so good in this dress..." He murmured, his voice hoarse and full of emotion, with a childish joy, "No... Why have you lost weight? Have you been secretly practicing light skills again and not eating well? Hmm?" His thumb was stroking her cheek almost roughly with its scorching temperature, as if he was confirming some treasure.
Chen Zhihua was so shocked by his sudden actions and words that her body froze, her mind blank. Humiliation, anger, jealousy... all these emotions instantly overwhelmed her. She wanted to push him away, to scream, to tear this absurd thing apart!
But Yongqi didn't give her any room to think or resist. The next second, his hot lips pressed down fiercely with unquestionable force!
It wasn't a gentle touch, but a passionate kiss filled with a near-desperate plunder and confirmation. His lips, thick with the scent of alcohol and scorching heat, forcefully pried open her slightly parted lips, thrusting deep inside. Their tongues intertwined with an almost brutal eagerness, as if he wanted to snatch every breath from her mouth, devour her completely. His kiss was deep and lingering, carrying endless longing and long-suppressed emotions, sweeping over her like a violent storm.
Chen Zhihua was forced to endure this intense, suffocating kiss, her body involuntarily weakening. She could clearly feel his strong arms tightly wrapped around her waist, locking her in his embrace with such force that it hurt. His heartbeat, through the thick ceremonial robes, pounded against her chest like a drum. This young, powerful body radiated an astonishing heat that almost melted her.
Her mind screamed and resisted, but the hidden desire deep within her body, fueled by the drugs, and the primal throbbing stirred by his forceful embrace, grew like a vine. A hint of confusion crept into her eyes. Subconsciously, ever so slightly, she responded to the tongue ravaging her mouth.
This subtle movement was like a spark thrown into dry wood, instantly igniting the already raging medicinal power in Yongqi's body. He let out a vague, satisfied sigh from his throat and kissed her more deeply, his arms tightening as if he wanted to knead her into his bones and blood.
"Little Swallow... my little Swallow..." He murmured incoherently between their lips and tongues, and every word was like a needle soaked in honey, piercing Chen Zhihua's heart. "Don't be afraid... Don't take the old Buddha's words to heart... In this life... I will live with you alone... Only with you..."
He whispered intermittently, the strength in his arms gradually loosening, his head buried in the crook of her neck, his hot breath spraying on her sensitive skin. His hot lips were still unconsciously and lovingly imprinting small kisses on the side of her neck, with an almost devout attachment.
"Tomorrow... tomorrow I'll take you to climb trees... to dig out bird nests... the beggar's chicken I made for you last time... are you... not full..." His voice became lower and lower, more and more vague, and finally turned into a sigh of satisfaction. He completely let go of his strength, and his heavy body pressed softly on Chen Zhihua.
He fell asleep.
Heavy breathing sounds rang in Chen Zhihua's ears, carrying the smell of alcohol and a faint scent that was unique to Yongqi.
Chen Zhihua stumbled under his weight, stumbling to the edge of the bed, barely able to support his heavy body. She gasped for breath, her chest heaving violently. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, slightly stinging, and the tip of his tongue even lingered with his domineering scent. The spot on her neck where he had kissed her still bore a scorching mark.
She looked down at the man sleeping on her shoulder. His handsome face seemed defenseless in the candlelight, but his brows were unconsciously furrowed even in his sleep. He was still unconsciously mumbling that name: "Little... Swallow..."
The immense humiliation and icy hatred, like a venomous snake, instantly wrapped around Chen Zhihua's heart, chilling her whole body and causing her teeth to chatter. She violently pushed Yongqi's heavy body away, letting him fall unconscious onto the bed covered with a bright red quilt.
She stood up, staggered back two steps, looked at the man sleeping soundly on the bed, then looked down at her slightly trembling hands. The scraps of the powder packet still lingered between her fingernails, carrying a faint, sweet, fishy smell.
The candlelight flickered, reflecting on her pale face. Her eyes, once gentle and affectionate, now held only cold calculation and blazing hatred. She raised her hand and rubbed her swollen lips with her fingertips, as if to wipe away something dirty, but her eyes were fixed on the man in the bed, who was still thinking of another woman in his dreams.
The red candle burned silently, and a drop of hot wax slowly slid down the candle body and solidified on the cold candlestick, like a cold tear that no one could see.
A deathly silence fell in the bridal chamber. Only the faint hum of burning red candles and the heavy breathing of the man on the bed filled the air. This meticulously arranged wedding night felt like a ridiculous, cold farce, barely beginning. And the seed of resentment within Chen Zhihua, nurtured by humiliation and hatred, had already sprouted and twisted, growing. Her slender fingers unconsciously caressed her flat belly, a cold, clear thought forming within her—she must, must, grasp onto something!
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