Shen Zhiyi's face was flushed with a rosy glow.
Remembering that she had indeed promised him and owed him a debt of gratitude, she nodded.
"How does Your Highness wish me to repay this?"
Yan Zhuoxu pinched her cheek, "Why are you still calling me Your Highness?"
He recalled how wives in the common folk addressed their husbands in a way that was far more intimate than this cold "Your Highness."
She then said, "Call me 'husband' so I can hear it."
Shen Zhiyi looked up, and her peerless face, illuminated by the candlelight and red curtains, appeared even more rosy and radiant, making her incredibly adorable.
"Husband..." she called softly.
Yan Zhuoxu's eyes darkened.
He scooped her up in his large hand and said, "Good girl."
"My husband will take you to drink the nuptial wine."
He strode to the table, sat down, gently placed her on his lap, picked up the wine glass on the table, and handed it to her.
"We promise to never be apart."
He looked at her as if giving a command.
But in his eyes, there was a cautious hope.
Shen Zhiyi took the wine glass, wrapped her arm around his, met his deep, dark eyes, and whispered:
"My husband and I will never be separated."
"Having made this covenant, I will abide by it even if it means death," Yan Zhuoxu stubbornly repeated.
After Shen Zhiyi nodded, he finally relaxed.
His gaze softened, brushing across her brows and eyes. He pulled her close, and together they tilted their heads back to drink the nuptial wine.
Shen Zhiyi put down her wine glass.
She sat on his lap like that, forced by him to undress him...
The red candles flickered, and the soft quilt rippled.
He enveloped her more gently than the night.
The medicinal bath treatment was not yet fully completed, but there was an even more effective way to induce sweating that could gradually heal her body.
Yan Zhuoxu was mindful of her health, so he exercised great restraint in his movements.
Slow and gentle.
Shen Zhiyi found it even more unbearable.
She turned her head, her ears flushed red, and stared at the flickering candlelight on the wall, whispering, "I...I'm actually...already alright..."
Yan Zhuoxu stopped moving.
His Adam's apple bobbed heavily.
He leaned down, turned her face towards him, and asked in a hoarse voice, "What did you say, Qingqing?"
Shen Zhiyi blushed and turned completely pink.
Her voice was barely audible: "I...I mean..."
"You don't have to endure it so much."
Yan Zhuoxu's breath hitched for a moment.
His eyes instantly turned as black as ink, and he inserted his ten fingers between hers, pinning her arms to the soft blanket.
"Then Qingqing... accepted it."
He no longer held back.
They openly and rudely unleash their raging desires.
Shen Zhiyi regretted it shortly afterward.
But his fingertips were pressed down by her, and her protests were silenced by his burning kiss.
Yan Zhuoxu's muscles bulged, exuding a deep-seated ferocity.
But I melted into her gentleness.
He could clearly see his own face reflected in her moist eyes.
A burning face, filled with endless greed and desire.
He unleashed his most secret, craving desires and passions, displaying them vividly on her body.
They were also unable to consciously realize it.
For him.
Everything in this world, except for her, can be abandoned.
Love and desire can become an obsession, seeping into one's bones and gnawing at one's heart.
She satisfied his addiction, but in doing so, she became the obsessive and greedy desire in his heart that he could never break free from.
A roar rolled out from Yan Zhuoxu's throat.
Sweat dripped from his chest and abs as he helped her up, planting countless delicate kisses on her ear.
"Qingqing, it's time to repay your kindness."
Shen Zhiyi was still in a daze, her mind blank. She had just heard his words and before she could react, he turned her over.
"Husband, my husband..."
She cried out in anguish.
"Don't be afraid." Yan Zhuoxu held her waist, took the brush and ink from the low table beside him, and sighed mischievously, "Qingqing has learned my calligraphy, but she has not yet grasped its essence."
"Today, I will teach you step by step."
The words were spoken.
The ink-dipped brush tip then landed on the back of the person I had been longing for.
That's the best Xuan paper in the world.
Soft as satin, snow-white and smooth.
Shen Zhiyi cried out in surprise.
But he covered her lips.
"Shh..." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Qingqing, you must concentrate."
"If one only focuses on lamentation, how can one appreciate the nuances of the brushstrokes?"
"Your calligraphy is lacking in this kind of spirit."
He pressed his index finger against her lips. "Now, can we begin learning?"
Shen Zhiyi was so embarrassed that her whole body trembled.
She closed her eyes and nodded gently.
With complete darkness in front of you, your sense of touch becomes even more acute.
Her face flushed red as she realized that what he was writing was the "Forty-Two Chapters Sutra" that she had previously copied from his work...
His brushstrokes flowed freely, displaying unrestrained mastery.
The ink and snow colors mingled, then blurred by sweat, meandering along with longing.
He held her back, preventing her from wavering.
Yan Zhuoxu repeatedly wiped away the ink marks and wrote them again and again, tirelessly.
The night was long, and no one disturbed us.
Enough for them to practice all night and complete this lesson...
*
When Shen Zhiyi woke up, her whole body ached.
She blushed as she thought.
Sure enough, I practiced too hard last night...
Yan Zhuoxu has disappeared without a trace.
Shen Bi brought in water, and greeted him with a smile.
"This servant greets the Crown Princess."
Shen Zhiyi blushed slightly. "What time is it now?"
"Where did Your Highness go?"
She looked out the window; it seemed the sun was already high in the sky.
He struggled to get up.
"No, I have to go and serve tea to His Majesty and the Empress."
"Princess Consort, don't be in a hurry." Shen Bi smiled and helped her up. "His Highness obtained the imperial decree yesterday, granting you more time to rest. There's no need to rush."
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