Chapter 37 Springtime Beauty Within the Palace Walls Leads to Heartbreak (Part Six) Chu Huaili...pain...
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly tightened his grip, pulling the fragile body in his arms even closer.
A soft, warm body pressed against his chest, and through the thin fabric, the woman's exquisite figure was clearly visible. She hurriedly tried to get up, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the front of his shirt, sending a slight shiver through her.
"Chu Huaili." Her voice trembled, carrying a hint of pleading, but more like an invitation.
The call was like a spark thrown into dry tinder.
He chuckled softly, not letting go but instead leaning closer. The gilded, vine-adorned candlesticks cast shards of light through the swaying carriage curtains, casting his silhouette in a half-light, half-shadow: "Why are you hiding? Weren't you the one who wanted to 'repay a debt of gratitude' just now?"
His bent knee inadvertently parted her skirt, the satin fabric rustling softly. Ye Yixiang's breathing quickened suddenly, and in the instant the man's breath enveloped her, she turned her head, and that kiss melted on her neck.
"Ugh..." She trembled as if she had been electrocuted, and he twisted her hands behind her back as she tried to push him away.
“If you don’t behave well,” Chu Huaili said, using his fingertips to lift her collar, revealing the red marks left from last night, “they won’t have any food at the end of the year.”
“The general isn’t that kind of person…” Her voice was watery, and her breath warmed his neck.
The neckline of the woman's dress had somehow loosened, revealing a section of delicate, snow-white skin, and further down, the subtle curves of her breasts. His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse, "What if I were?"
Upon hearing this, Ye Yixiang's almond-shaped eyes, which always held a gentle smile, became hazy. She tilted her head back, and her wet lips pressed against his chin without warning. Little by little, clumsily yet stubbornly, she explored upwards, brushing past his tightly pursed lips, finally stopping at his slightly hot earlobe.
"Chu Huaili..." she mumbled his name, as if talking in a dream.
Her warm little tongue boldly licked his earlobe.
The string of reason in my mind snapped with a "clang".
Chu Huaili abruptly grabbed her provocative chin, forcing her to meet his deep, unfathomable gaze. His eyes held a dark undercurrent she had never seen before—dangerous, yet chilling.
"Do you regret it?" His voice was hoarse.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her long eyelashes trembling like butterfly wings in the wind, seemingly fearful yet hesitant, but she still mustered the courage to meet his gaze. Before she could respond, a punitive kiss landed heavily on her lips.
“Too late.” His fingertips brushed against the pine-colored sash, and the outer garment loosened. What he touched was no longer the cool silk, but the warm skin that shivered slightly through a thin inner garment.
She gasped softly, instinctively trying to curl up, but he held her firmly in his palm, leaving her nowhere to retreat.
Between breaths, she sobbed and endured, her fingertips weakly scratching at the fabric of his back, like a vine swaying in the wind and rain, clinging tightly to the strong tree in front of her.
His clothes were disheveled, and his black hair was loose.
His eyes darkened, and the nameless fire in his heart, mixed with a deeper restlessness, surged up again. It was this weak and helpless appearance that repeatedly challenged his bottom line, yet made him... unable to resist.
"Chu Huaili..." she began, her voice trembling with tears, soft and sweet, "It hurts..."
It's that character again.
"Does it hurt?" He leaned down, his hot breath brushing against her sensitive earlobe. He felt the slight trembling of the person beneath him, and a cruel tenderness rose in his heart. "You can't even take it?"
He lowered his head and fiercely captured her slightly swollen lips, not so much a kiss as a punitive bite, with a ruthless force that seemed to devour everything. She whimpered, her weak hands draped against his firm chest, like an ant trying to shake a tree.
After a long while, he finally released her, looking at her as she breathed heavily, her eyes red at the corners, like a butterfly wet by the rain, broken yet beautiful.
The carriage had already arrived at the gate of the hot spring villa. The coachman reined in the carriage and looked back at Pei Hong with a troubled expression: "Captain, what should we do now?"
Pei Hong kept his eyes down, his expression calm and composed, his voice deep and unwavering: "Continue onward, do not stop."
“But Captain, we’ve arrived…” The coachman hesitated.
"First, circle around the estate." Pei Hong's tone was firm and left no room for argument. "Without orders, you are not allowed to stop."
So the carriage slowly started moving again, circling the sleeping manor, round and round, drawing a silent and long circle, like a wandering without end.
The carriage swayed gently along the road, cleverly swallowing the barely audible sobs and the occasional sounds leaking out from the rustling of clothes behind the incessant rumble of the wheels and the heavy curtains.
However, in that secluded and confined space, those muffled sounds were amplified infinitely, like threads that entangled endlessly.
After an unknown amount of time, the unsettling commotion gradually subsided, leaving only intermittent, faint sobs and a heavy, long breath, silently intertwined in the hazy night.
As the moon began to set in the west and its clear light bathed the ground, Chu Huaili carefully wrapped the person in his arms in his dark blue cloak.
She had already fallen into a deep sleep, her long eyelashes still damp with tears, her body limp beyond belief. When he lifted her up, she nestled in his arms like a cloud, lifeless. His arms were steady, yet his movements revealed an indescribable tenderness, as if he were holding a rare and fleeting treasure.
He ignored the servants bowing their heads and holding their breath in the corridor, and had no interest in appreciating the sparse shadows in the courtyard. He strode forward, stepping over the moonlit stone steps, and walked toward the room where the candlelight flickered.
The warm lamplight shone through the carved window lattice, casting flowing light and shadow on his blue robes and illuminating the pale, fragile face of the person in his arms.
After that night, it seemed as if all her energy and spirit had been drained.
Ye Yixiang's illness was truly like a mountain collapsing, coming on with overwhelming force.
Whether it was the shock and despair brought about by Lu Qingyuan's survival and sudden change in identity, the lingering resentment towards Chu Huaili for his deception, or the intense demands she had never experienced before in the carriage that night, which exceeded her physical and mental capacity, she was unsure.
In short, the high fever and nightmares intertwined, trapping her in a state of chaos, and her condition worsened over a month.
When he regained full consciousness, he was no longer in Liangzhou, but in a quiet and elegant courtyard on the outskirts of Chang'an.
Spring was in full bloom outside the window, with tender green leaves on the branches and the occasional hooting of sparrows and horses, but in her heart, it was still a desolate winter.
When Wuluozhu brought in the dark medicine bowl, he saw her leaning against the headboard, staring blankly out the window. Her profile was thin and her chin was pointed. Her once radiant skin was now pale with the aftereffects of illness, and her lips were almost bloodless.
"Sister, it's time to take your medicine." Wuluozhu handed her the warm medicine bowl, and the strong, bitter smell instantly filled the air.
Ye Yixiang's long eyelashes trembled slightly. She glanced at the thick medicine, her delicate brows furrowed, and she subconsciously turned her face away. Her voice carried the weakness of a long illness and a hint of barely perceptible willfulness: "Let's leave it for now."
Urozhu looked troubled and advised, "Sister, the imperial physicians from the palace have come to examine you and said that your illness is dangerous, with cold penetrating to the bone. You must take your medicine on time and take good care of yourself. You must not delay, otherwise you may suffer from the disease and suffer every time the weather changes in the future."
Ye Yixiang seemed not to hear, only staring at the lotus pattern on the brocade quilt with an indifferent expression, as if the doctor's orders concerning her health had nothing to do with her.
Just as the atmosphere inside the room became tense, a tall figure quietly appeared at the doorway, his features deep and defined when viewed against the light.
"Go down first," a clear, gentle voice said.
Uluzhu immediately put the medicine bowl aside, bowed, and ran out of the room.
Ye Yixiang caught a glimpse of the newcomer out of the corner of her eye, her heart tightened, and she immediately turned her face away, refusing to even glance at him. Inwardly, she was annoyed; when had that girl, Wuluozhu, become so obedient to her, running away so quickly!
Chu Huaili walked slowly closer, his gaze falling on her thin shoulders that seemed as if they could break at any moment. His heart felt as if it had been pricked by fine needles, and a clear throbbing pain and guilt rose up.
He bent down, picked up the medicine bowl that Ye Yixiang had disdainfully placed on the small table by the bedside, and tested its temperature; it was still warm.
He gently stirred with a porcelain spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and patiently brought it to her lips. His voice was softer than ever before, with a hint of careful coaxing: "Arao, don't be angry. It's all my fault."
He paused, a hint of unease creeping into his usually cold and stern eyes, and his voice lowered, "Yes...it was my recklessness and lack of self-control. In the future, I will definitely restrain myself and be more gentle."
The implication in those words caused two faint blushes to instantly rise on Ye Luoxiang's pale cheeks, like rouge suddenly falling on snow, quite beautiful. She was filled with shame and anger, but stubbornly refused to look at him, only saying in a cold, hard voice, "I'm leaving."
Chu Huaili's eyes darkened slightly, and his fingers tightened around the medicine bowl, but he maintained his gentle and persuasive demeanor, readily responding:
"Okay. After A'Rao finishes drinking this bowl of medicine and gets enough rest, I'll take you out for a walk tomorrow to clear your head."
"It just so happens that it's spring hunting season in the outskirts of Beijing. The scenery on the mountain is perfect, with spring flowers in full bloom. A'Rao will surely like it."
Hearing his evasive answer, Ye Yixiang turned around abruptly, her eyes, which appeared even larger due to her thinness, staring directly at him, burning with anger at being mocked: "Chu Huaili! You clearly know that's not what I meant! I just don't want to stay here, I don't want to stay in Chang'an, I don't want to stay by your side!"
"A'Rao is my wife," he said calmly, yet with an undeniable certainty, meeting her angry gaze. "Where else do you think you can go if you're not with your husband?"
"You!" Ye Yixiang was furious, her chest heaving violently. She reached out to push away the medicine bowl he was stubbornly holding in front of her, but due to her long illness, she was weak and dizzy. Her body fell forward uncontrollably, and she happened to fall into his open arms.
The expected pain of crashing into a hard chest did not come; he caught her steadily. However, at the same time, a suppressed groan escaped from his throat.
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