Chu Xunsheng had just opened his eyes, only to be genuinely startled by the chaotic scene before him.
There was a pitiful beauty with tears in his eyes, an Emperor with a gloomy expression and clenched fists, and himself—disheveled and utterly confused.
What an exquisite scene for getting caught in the act.
He did remember this palace maid; her name was Yun Qian, and she had seemed off since yesterday.
Yun Qian let out a sharp, panicked scream, evidently just as baffled as to why a monarch would appear before her when she was merely crawling into her master’s bed, especially one with such a murderous glint in his eyes.
She instinctively crawled toward Chu Xunsheng, but just as her body was about to touch his, Ji Yan yanked her off the bed.
“Ugh!”
Before she could react, several eunuchs stepped forward with practiced efficiency, hauled her up, covered her mouth, and dragged her out before slamming the door shut.
Everything happened so fast that Chu Xunsheng hadn’t even fully woken up yet, and the person who had been by his bedside was already gone.
Chu Xunsheng blinked, finally grasping the situation. Though he had been asleep, he knew he hadn’t done anything inappropriate, so he didn’t pay it much mind. He simply ignored the blade-like glare aimed at him and methodically put on his robes.
Ji Yan watched him with an air of complete indifference and felt his lungs were about to explode with rage.
He stepped forward and violently ripped open the top Chu Xunsheng had just straightened, exposing a large expanse of fair skin.
The exposed skin took on a honeyed hue under the lamplight, inviting capture.
Ji Yan imagined that the woman moments ago might have been the one to harvest this fruit, and his annoyance peaked. With a cold sneer, he said, “I have interrupted Lord Chu’s tryst. Lord Chu must be quite angry, hmm?”
Chu Xunsheng frowned as he looked at him, feeling that the man was being quite unreasonable.
Feeling inexplicably uncomfortable, he replied coldly, “Indeed, Your Majesty. A spring night is worth a thousand—”
“Ngh!”
Ji Yan pressed down fiercely, nearly biting Chu Xunsheng’s lips, and reached out to tear at the loosely hanging garments. The pain only served to incense Chu Xunsheng further. He shoved Ji Yan away and said sternly, “By what authority does Your Majesty interfere in my private affairs?”
The words exploded like thunder in the room. The Emperor, clad in black with his golden mask, fell silent for a moment. His jaw tightened into a line, and black clouds churned in his eyes as he swallowed hard.
His anger seemed suddenly blocked, finding no outlet. After a long silence, Ji Yan replied in a strained voice: “Indeed so.”
He asked himself inwardly, Why am I so angry? Wasn’t this what I planned from the start? To gain his affection as A-Yan, and to satisfy my intense cravings as an Emperor.
Yet, at what point had he, as the Emperor, started feeling jealous of himself as A-Yan?
In truth, A-Yan was not him; he was merely a gentle, beautiful creation crafted for Chu Xunsheng—a paper-thin lie waiting to be punctured. This tyrannical, vicious, cold, and unlovable Emperor was who he truly was.
The autocratic Emperor was no longer satisfied with the superficial sweetness of the cabin; he wanted to lock the man in a secret chamber where only he could enter. He wanted the man’s eyes to see only him, his desires to be vented upon him, and his every vulnerability, every moment of hesitation, and every beauty worth exploring to be laid bare before him alone.
At what point had he stopped wanting just the forced intimacy of a kiss and started longing for the sweetness of true passion?
Ji Yan couldn’t explain his complex emotions, feeling only a burning longing at the core of his being.
He slowly made a resolution in his heart: End it. This hopeless suffering.
Whether he won or lost, it would be decided now.
The Emperor sat upright, staring straight at Chu Xunsheng: “Are you… willing to see who I am?”
Before Chu Xunsheng could react, his hand was pressed against the cold golden mask. Just as it was about to be removed, he pressed the mask back into place.
Even without looking, he had guessed long ago.
How could there be so many coincidences in the world? The same scent, the same physique, even the same shape of the lips. Would a jealous, tyrannical Emperor not notice the whispers of someone waking from a dream?
Chu Xunsheng simply pressed down on that cold, shimmering mask, saying nothing.
He knew well that if he became emotionally entangled with the Emperor, the difficulty of completing his mission would escalate significantly.
Ji Yan watched Chu Xunsheng’s calm, waveless eyes, which resembled the deep sea, and his lips trembled: “Why… are you unwilling to look?”
In Chu Xunsheng’s eyes, he seemed to see a desperate possibility: You… have you known all along?
Chu Xunsheng stepped back and knelt. The cold floor stung his knees, but since the Emperor didn’t come to help him up, he didn’t rise.
He lowered his eyes and said, “Your Majesty is the Son of Heaven. No matter what absurd things I may have done, please know—”
He slowly lifted his head, meeting the Emperor’s eyes, “I could never have any feelings for the Son of Heaven beyond mere loyalty.”
It was best to clarify anything that might hinder the mission’s progress.
The Emperor stumbled back, dazed: “Completely… impossible?”
He looked at those ruthless eyes, pleading, hurriedly recounting their shared past: “Our radishes we planted together, the stars we watched, the wood we chopped, the cabin we built, the night markets we wandered, the strange dishes we made, even the moment we kissed in the imperial hall—are they all… unimportant?”
In those moments when the lanterns flickered and their gazes intertwined, did all those emotions vanish simply because of their identities?
Chu Xunsheng looked at him steadily.
“Yes, none of it matters.”
“Your Majesty should treat it all as nothing more than smoke passing before one’s eyes.”
Heh, hehe. The Emperor sneered, looking almost deranged.
“Fine, fine, fine. A fine ‘smoke passing before one’s eyes.’ Lord Chu is so thoughtful for the sake of the country; it is I who am at fault.”
The Emperor’s tone was light, his spine held straight, as if that could hide a fragment of his shattered heart.
But he didn’t want to leave. He stood there, watching the person he thought of day and night.
Is this it? Leaving just like this, becoming nothing more than sovereign and subject, never to have any involvement again?
He would rather leave behind something worth remembering for a lifetime.
Suddenly, he spoke.
“Do you like her then?” The Emperor’s voice was hoarse as he stared unblinkingly at the person before him—the one so cold it bordered on cruel.
?
Chu Xunsheng was puzzled, but replied honestly: “No.”
Ji Yan’s breathing grew more urgent. The overwhelming paranoia and tyranny in his eyes nearly tore him apart, but he only clenched his fingertips tightly.
He gripped so hard that deep red marks remained on his palms, but the owner, staring intently ahead, seemed not to notice.
“If that is the case… if she is acceptable, then why am I not?”
The Emperor, usually the one in control, felt like a sacrificial lamb in a sheep pen, his life and death dependent on another’s whim. It was a suffocating feeling, one he couldn’t escape.
The question was illogical, but Chu Xunsheng understood it with eerie clarity.
He didn’t know what to say, so he just lowered his eyes in silence.
What exactly was A-Yan in his heart? Even he wasn’t entirely sure. Chu Xunsheng had to admit that part of the reason he stopped Ji Yan from removing the mask was the fear that he would soften if he saw A-Yan’s face.
Silence permeated the room.
Ji Yan’s blood turned cold, spreading from his toes to the top of his head; he felt like shivering. He stood there, frozen, feeling the ache in his heart spreading throughout his body.
He stood by the bed, looking down at the disheveled official. Despite being in the dominant position, the atmosphere was clearly controlled by the calm, self-restrained person on the bed.
Chu Xunsheng just watched him quietly; Ji Yan even could see his own persistent, laughable self reflected in those eyes.
He suddenly felt resentful. Why was he the only one falling into the abyss?
Ji Yan heard his own heart screaming, screaming to tear away the man’s mask of indifference, to have him also stain his eyes with passion, to see him show deeper desire for himself.
“I command you,” Ji Yan stubbornly used the imperial “I,” as if that could conceal the inevitable humbleness of this arrogant Emperor before love.
” ( ) me.”
It was terrifyingly blunt.
His tone was vicious, as if he would kill the person before him without hesitation if Chu Xunsheng showed even the slightest hint of refusal, yet deep down, the tone carried a sorrow that would make anyone who heard it weep.
But if one looked closely, one could see that the Emperor—clad in his golden mask and immaculately dressed—was speaking vulgar words as if he didn’t care, yet his earlobes were dyed a deep crimson, and his fingertips, hidden in his sleeves, were trembling slightly from nerves.
This is the most I can do.
Ji Yan thought in despair.
The dignity of an Emperor did not permit him to do anything more humiliating; this was already his limit.
Like a mighty lion, he had cautiously bared his most vulnerable throat, but if the tamer made the slightest wrong move, he would still tear him apart without hesitation.
Chu Xunsheng stared at Ji Yan, seemingly seeing the stubborn lion stiffen its ears while waiting for a response in the rigidity of the moment.
Chu Xunsheng sighed at length.
The day they returned to the palace, this Emperor, who still possessed the warmth of blood kin, would face betrayal by those closest to him, and now, he had one more thing—betrayal by the one he loved.
Even knowing clearly that the road to a stable throne was destined to be filled with blood, cruelty, and pain, allowing no room for sentiment.
And all of this was something Ji Yan was destined to endure.
Yet, looking at this Emperor who appeared ferocious but had actually laid bare his most vulnerable and softest parts, Chu Xunsheng couldn’t help but soften his heart.
Fine.
Consider it a little compensation for the day that is sure to come.
Ignoring the fact that Ji Yan’s body was trembling slightly due to his sigh, Chu Xunsheng suddenly grabbed Ji Yan’s lapels and pulled him down.
By the time Ji Yan regained his senses from the stupor, his back had slammed heavily against the bed frame with a muffled thud.
But he could no longer feel the pain in his back.
Ji Yan stared blankly at Chu Xunsheng’s handsome face drawing closer, feeling as if he were dreaming.
Chu Xunsheng rested one hand beside Ji Yan and gently removed his hair crown.
Ji Yan’s completely stunned brain was unable to process the deeper meaning behind this action. He only felt that Ah-Chu was unusually gentle; his eyes, his movements—everything was gentle.
Chu Xunsheng slowly inserted his fingertips into Ji Yan’s hair, moving methodically as if performing a task that required the utmost attention.
“Your Majesty,” he said with a smile, “do you want it?”