Chapter 86
Xiao Qiyun's courtyard was located deep within the General's Mansion, even more secluded than Shuyu Courtyard. Multiple moon gates isolated it from the outside world's noise, with only the rustling of the night wind through the bamboo forest.
The bluestone path gleamed with a cool luster under the moonlight. Xiao Qiyun, holding Su Zhelan's hand, walked steadily through the last moon gate.
The courtyard gate closed silently behind us, shutting out the last sound from the outside world.
The courtyard was even more tranquil, with moonlight like water, spilling onto the carefully tended flowers, trees, and bluestone paths.
The air was filled with a faint fragrance of grass and trees, and a subtle, clear sandalwood scent that belonged to Xiao Qiyun.
Xiao Qiyun wasn't as impatient as Sheng Xuan had imagined. He still held Su Zhelan's hand, his fingertips warm and strong, but not in a forceful way.
He led Su Zhelan along the corridor, the moonlight casting their long shadows on the ground beneath.
"The moonlight is beautiful tonight," Xiao Qiyun's voice broke the silence, as gentle and peaceful as the night.
He turned his head to look at Su Zhelan, a familiar, reassuring, gentle smile playing on his lips. "It's even better than I expected."
Su Zhelan's heart was pounding. He lowered his head slightly, feeling the warmth of Xiao Qiyun's hand on his palm. He remembered the promise, and he remembered the heavy expectation in Xiao Qiyun's eyes when he looked at him in the flower hall.
Standing here in this secluded and tranquil courtyard, the anticipation seemed to materialize, weighing heavily on his heart. He felt somewhat uneasy, even a little nervous, unsure of what would happen next.
"Hmm...it's very good," Su Zhelan replied softly, her voice sounding somewhat light in the quiet night.
Xiao Qiyun seemed to sense his nervousness, and tightened his grip on his hand slightly, as if to reassure him. He didn't say anything more, but simply led Su Zhelan towards the brightly lit main house deep in the courtyard.
Pushing open the carved wooden door, a warm candlelight mingled with the faint scent of pine and ink wafted out. The interior was elegantly furnished, complete with a desk, a zither stand, and a tea set, reflecting the owner's refined taste and elegance.
Xiao Qiyun gently closed the door behind him, shutting out the moonlight and the sound of the wind outside.
The room was instantly left with only the two of them and the faint crackling of the burning candle.
Xiao Qiyun turned around to face Su Zhelan. He was still holding Su Zhelan's hand, his gaze deep and focused on her face. His eyes were still gentle, yet they seemed brighter than moonlight, carrying a warmth that could penetrate the heart.
“Ze Lan,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was deep and clear, with a subtle, melodious tremor like the clinking of jade stones, “I am… truly happy today.”
He paused, his gaze lingering on Su Zhelan's clear eyes for a moment, as if confirming something, before continuing, his voice carrying a heavy sense of satisfaction and... a hint of barely perceptible emotion:
"You still remember our promise."
These words were like a pebble thrown into a still lake, creating ripples in Su Zhelan's heart. Looking at the undisguised joy and appreciation in Xiao Qiyun's eyes, his initial unease seemed to lessen, replaced by a feeling of being treated with great respect.
He pursed his lips slightly, his cheeks flushing slightly in the candlelight, and said in a low voice, "...I dare not forget what I promised Your Highness."
Xiao Qiyun's smile deepened, a smile as warm as a spring breeze brushing across ice. He didn't immediately take the next step; instead, he released Su Zhelan's hand and turned to walk towards the large rosewood desk beside him.
Su Zhelan was slightly taken aback. Looking at Xiao Qiyun's back, the secret tension and...some inexplicable expectation in her heart were instantly replaced by doubt.
Xiao Qiyun walked to the desk and began to organize the items on it with calm and focused movements. He picked up an inkstone, poured in a little water, and then picked up a fine pine soot ink stick, slowly grinding it in the inkstone.
The ink stick rubbed against the inkstone, producing a subtle, even rustling sound that was particularly clear in the quiet room. The candlelight flickered, illuminating his slender fingers and focused profile.
“The moonlight is exceptionally beautiful tonight, and my mood is also excellent.” Xiao Qiyun said gently as he ground the ink, “...It’s the perfect time to paint.” His voice, with its peaceful rhythm, flowed through the quiet room.
His movements as he ground the ink were unhurried and deliberate, the soft, rhythmic sound of the ink stick rubbing against the inkstone clear and distinct, as if carrying a calming power.
Su Zhelan stood to the side, the delicate scent of ink filling the air. He watched Xiao Qiyun's profile as he focused intently on grinding the ink. The candlelight cast soft shadows on Xiao's handsome face, and that calm and focused demeanor gradually calmed the hidden tension and anticipation in Su Zhelan's heart, transforming it into a tranquility tinged with the fragrance of ink. Perhaps... it really was just painting?
Just then, Xiao Qiyun put down the inkstone in his hand. He picked up a slender wolf-hair brush and gently twirled it between his fingertips, but his gaze did not fall on the laid-out Xuan paper; instead, it turned to the window.
“Ze Lan,” Xiao Qiyun’s gentle voice broke the silence of the room, “Come to the window.”
Su Zhelan paused slightly, then walked to the low couch by the window. The moonlight outside was perfect, its clear glow filtering through the windowpane and spreading a layer of silver frost on the floor.
"Sit here." Xiao Qiyun pointed to the cushioned spot on the low couch, his tone as natural as if he were arranging a trivial matter.
Su Zhelan sat down as instructed, his back straightening unconsciously, with a hint of stiffness that was barely perceptible. The moonlight fell on him, outlining his slender figure, and his moon-white robes seemed to be shrouded in a hazy halo under the moonlight.
Xiao Qiyun approached slowly, his gaze lingering on Su Zhelan for a moment, as if examining a painting about to be finished. His eyes remained gentle, yet carried an unmistakable focus and... a subtle, almost imperceptible scrutiny.
"Relax." Xiao Qiyun's voice was deep and pleasant, carrying a soothing tone. He walked behind Su Zhelan and gently placed his hands on her shoulders with an extremely natural yet firm touch.
Su Zhelan's body tensed instantly! The warmth of Xiao Qiyun's palms seeped through the thin fabric, carrying a scorching heat. Those hands didn't stop, but slowly slid down his shoulder line, the fingertips brushing lightly against his arm, finally stopping at his wrist.
"Put your hand...here." Xiao Qiyun's voice rang close to Su Zhelan's ear, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive skin.
He leaned slightly forward, gently lifting Su Zhelan's wrist with one hand and guiding his fingers to rest on the smooth armrest of the low couch with the other. His movements were gentle, yet carried an undeniable guiding force.
Su Zhelan's heart suddenly raced.
He could clearly feel the touch of Xiao Qiyun's fingertips; the warm, calloused fingertips gently caressed the skin on the inside of his wrist, sending a slight shiver through him. He instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but Xiao Qiyun gripped it even tighter.
"Don't move." Xiao Qiyun's voice was still gentle, but with a hint of deepness that was almost imperceptible, like a whisper, "This position... is very good."
His other hand did not leave Su Zhelan's shoulder; instead, he gently applied a little force, causing Su Zhelan to turn slightly to allow half of her face to be better bathed in the moonlight.
"Lift your head... a little higher." Xiao Qiyun's fingertips gently lifted Su Zhelan's chin. The movement seemed gentle, but it carried an irresistible meaning, forcing Su Zhelan to tilt her head back slightly, revealing her beautifully shaped neck.
Under the moonlight, Su Zhelan's profile was clearly defined. Forced to maintain this carefully "posed" posture, her body was stiff, and her cheeks flushed uncontrollably.
Xiao Qiyun's fingertips were still on his chin and shoulder, the warm touch like a brand, rendering him immobile. He could feel Xiao Qiyun's gaze lingering on his face and neck as if it were tangible, carrying a scrutinizing and... possessiveness.
Xiao Qiyun seemed quite satisfied with the "positioned" posture. He withdrew his hand, his fingertips gently brushing against Su Zhelan's shoulder one last time, bringing a slight tickle.
He straightened up, his gaze lingering on Su Zhelan for a moment, a faint but satisfied smile curving his lips.
"Stay where you are, don't move." Xiao Qiyun's voice returned to its usual gentle tone, but carried an undeniable air of command. He stopped looking at Su Zhelan and turned to walk towards his desk.
Su Zhelan sat frozen in place, maintaining the posture "set" by Xiao Qiyun.
The moonlight was cold, the candlelight was warm; his body was stiff, but his heart was pounding like a drum.
He could hear the sound of Xiao Qiyun dipping his brush in ink behind him, the subtle sound amplified infinitely in the silence.
Xiao Qiyun's gaze seemed to remain fixed on him, carrying an invisible pressure that made him even more cautious in his breathing. That feeling of being treated as a "person in a painting" carried an indescribable embarrassment and a deeper sense of powerlessness, a feeling of being controlled.
Xiao Qiyun stood before the desk, spread out the Xuan paper, and weighed it down with a white jade paperweight. He picked up the wolf-hair brush, which was heavily dipped in ink, and his gaze returned to the figure bathed in moonlight by the window.
Su Zhelan's back was slender, her slightly raised neck delicate and graceful, seemingly radiating a lustrous glow under the moonlight. The coolness permeated by the moonlight and her current stiffness inability to move created a strange and captivating beauty.
Xiao Qiyun's smile deepened, his gaze focused and profound. Without further hesitation, he lowered his brush, outlining the first smooth ink line on the pristine white Xuan paper.
The only sounds in the room were the scratching of pens on paper and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the two people.
Su Zhelan tried to remain still, but her thoughts, like the moonlight outside the window, flowed uncontrollably.
He recalled Sheng Xuan's eyes, filled with resentment and grievance, in the flower hall. What was Sheng Xuan doing at that moment? He was practicing swordsmanship alone in the courtyard to vent his frustration.
His thoughts drifted far away, and his gaze gradually lost focus, no longer concentrating on a particular bamboo shadow outside the window, but becoming somewhat empty.
Although the body maintained the posture, the tension of being stared at ease eased slightly as the mind wandered.
Just then, the regular and rhythmic rustling sound stopped.
A deeper silence fell over the room.
Su Zhelan's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason. She subconsciously pulled her wandering thoughts back, and her body tensed up slightly again.
"Ze Lan." Xiao Qiyun's voice came from behind the desk, still gentle, even carrying a hint of a smile, like a spring breeze brushing across the water. "What are you thinking about?"
Su Zhelan's body stiffened slightly. He hadn't expected that his slight lapse in concentration would be noticed.
He didn't dare turn around, but tried his best to maintain his posture, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible tension: "...No, it's nothing."
"Is that so?" Xiao Qiyun's voice carried a gentle, persuasive quality, as if she were only concerned about him. "But your gaze... seems to have drifted far away."
Su Zhelan's fingertips unconsciously curled slightly, and his hand resting on the armrest tightened slightly. He didn't know how to answer, so he could only remain silent.
Soft footsteps came from behind the desk. Xiao Qiyun put down his pen and walked over slowly. He didn't immediately go to Su Zhelan, but stopped a few steps away from the low couch, his gaze still fixed on Su Zhelan, filled with scrutiny and inquiry.
“Today is my birthday,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was deep and melodious, like the plucking of the strings of a fine zither, with a captivating magnetism. “I thought that at this moment, in this setting, you should be… completely focused on me.”
His words were gentle, even tinged with a playful reproach, but to Su Zhelan, they felt like an invisible rope that instantly tightened around his heart.
The phrase "full of heart and eyes" conveys an undeniable sense of possession.
Su Zhelan's heart suddenly raced, and the blush on his cheeks deepened. He felt a surge of inexplicable embarrassment and panic, as if his hidden thoughts had been completely exposed. He instinctively wanted to explain, "Your Highness, I..."
"Shh—" Xiao Qiyun gently interrupted him, and footsteps sounded again. This time, he walked up to Su Zhelan.
The moonlight and candlelight intertwined, illuminating Xiao Qiyun's tall and imposing figure. He leaned slightly forward, casting a shadow that brought an invisible sense of oppression.
His gaze fell on Su Zhelan's face, which was forced to look up. His eyes were deep, like a bottomless pool, with an unfathomable undercurrent beneath the gentle appearance.
"Look at me." Xiao Qiyun's voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable command.
Su Zhelan was forced to raise his eyelashes to meet Xiao Qiyun's gaze. That gaze was as tangible as a physical object, locking him in and leaving him nowhere to escape.
Xiao Qiyun's lips curled into a very faint smile, carrying a hint of understanding, yet also a subtle danger.
He reached out, his fingertips not touching Su Zhelan, but merely brushing lightly across her eyebrows, his movements as gentle as if handling a rare treasure, yet the desire for control in his eyes was so intense it was almost overflowing.
“The birthday gift I want,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was deep and clear, each word striking Su Zhelan’s heart, “is not just a painting. What I want is the person in the painting… their entire being, right here and now.”
His fingertips finally rested on the corner of Su Zhelan's eye, gently tapping it with an almost intimate tone.
"So, stop getting distracted, okay?" The last syllable of that voice rose slightly, carrying a gentle warning, yet it made Su Zhelan's heart pound more than any stern command.
Su Zhelan's heart pounded like a drum, and blood seemed to rush to his cheeks. Under the gaze of those deep eyes, and in those gentle yet forceful words, he felt all his thoughts being forcibly pulled back, firmly nailed to the present moment, nailed to the person in front of him.
He swallowed hard, lowered his eyelashes, and dared not look into those eyes that seemed to see through everything. He could only reply softly, "...Okay."
Xiao Qiyun seemed satisfied. He straightened up and gave Su Zhelan one last deep look, his gaze as if confirming that the prey had been completely captured. Then, he turned and walked back behind his desk.
He picked up his brush and dipped it in ink.
The brush tip landed on the rice paper again, making a familiar rustling sound.
This time, Su Zhelan dared not be distracted in the slightest. He tried his best to maintain his posture, his gaze lowered, but all his senses were focused with unparalleled clarity on the person painting behind him.
He could feel that gaze lingering over him as if it were a physical entity, from the tips of his hair to his fingertips, from his slightly raised neck to his stiff back, every inch of him seemed to be meticulously depicted and possessed by that gaze.
He seemed to have truly become a lifeless "object" belonging only to the painter, imprisoned within the frame, his mind and spirit deprived of freedom.
The feeling of being treated as a "birthday gift," along with a strong sense of shame and a deeper, more profound sense of powerlessness from being completely controlled, silently permeated the quiet room.
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