When her eyes were closed, she was running a grand tavern in the bustling streets of Dunhuang. When she opened them, Li Chongjun was kissing her neck. For a moment, Sui Sui couldn’t tell which was the dream. Both were equally absurd.
What infuriated her was that he was untying her sash. She tried to stop him, but he had already torn off her undergarment. She quickly covered her chest, but his hand went to her trousers, and while her head was spinning, he stripped her bare in a few swift motions. Then he began to undo his own trousers.
He was already bare-chested. Seeing this, Sui Sui threw herself at him, clutching his waistband to keep him from undressing, babbling incoherently: “No, no, this won’t do—Your Highness never said you meant to be serious! A gentleman’s word cannot be taken back—Your Highness, restrain yourself!”
The grand hall was thick with night.
Silver moonlight, gauzy curtains.
Her skin was pale, scented with jasmine oil from before bed, and faintly glowing. Beneath the clothes, she was not frail but soft with flesh. Her br**sts were full—on stage, she had to bind them with cloth, unlike now, when they swayed like two white rabbits, too large for one hand.
Li Chongjun didn’t touch them. Instead, he lifted her chin, smiling with a hint of mischief: “Then beg me.”
“Fine, fine, I beg you, Your Highness…” She felt that wasn’t strong enough, so she pleaded earnestly: “Endure for now, and the sea will open wide. You’re about to marry—your heart already belongs to another!”
But it backfired.
He pushed her down without a word, pressing his whole body against hers. She was jolted numb, barely catching her breath before he thrust hard through the silk, making her gasp and pant in shock.
Li Chongjun was panting too—restrained, as if afraid someone might hear.
Suddenly, Sui Sui thought of something: “Right—Miss Yi! Even if you don’t care about the princess, you must think of Yiyi. She’s waiting for you in Chang’an!”
His breath did falter for a moment—but then he grew more enraged. He clamped a hand over her mouth and tugged at his trousers.
Sui Sui struggled, muffled cries spilling out. He ignored her, one hand pressing her hip. But he stopped short of entering. The torment was unbearable—like being cut with a dull blade.
The man was mad. Better to kill her outright than torture her like this!
Yet she soon realized he had another intention.
He flipped her over, wrapped an arm around her waist, forcing her into a posture with her back arched. Sui Sui braced herself against the railing, still trying to bargain with him—when suddenly he drove into her from behind—
“Ah!—” Sui Sui bit down hard, holding her breath.
But with a sharp *snap*, she felt no pain at all. Looking down, she saw something unfamiliar between her legs.
Sui Sui was still shaken, but Li Chongjun had already wrapped his arms around her waist, pounding against her. She hated his bad temper, yet her body betrayed her, softening involuntarily, melting like cheese.
She was naturally bright and alluring, with a pointed chin and peach-blossom eyes. On stage as a young actress, she was quick and clever, scolding or laughing with endless charm—never seeming like a proper woman. Now, with her face flushed and brows arched like a crescent moon, she looked pitiable to others, but in her case, it was pure seduction.
It felt as though she were wandering through mountains and stumbled upon a spring. The water gurgled endlessly, bubbling from its source, murmuring with sound.
Sui Sui sighed.
So Li Chongjun wanted release, but without truly “touching” her.
This chastity was being guarded into emptiness.
Fine, let him be.
Realizing this night would go no further, her heart eased. Sleepiness began to smother any fleeting pleasure. All she wanted was for it to end quickly so she could rest. Being dragged from bed three times in one night was exhausting.
But Li Chongjun was tireless, holding her close as he vented.
How much *cistanche lamb stew* had he eaten these days?
Sui Sui clenched her teeth. For the sake of sleep, she decided to use her stagecraft—she had never feared performing before grand officials, so why not now, with only the two of them?
She began to moan softly: “Ah—too much, right there—”
“Mm—no, I can’t bear it, lighter, lighter! Sui Sui can’t take it.”
But Li Chongjun seemed uninterested in her act. After only a few cries, he flipped her over like a pancake. “Don’t fuss,” he said in a low, urgent, yet unexpectedly gentle tone. Sui Sui quickly shut her mouth. He leaned down, gazing at her with hazy eyes, then suddenly said: “Touch it.”
“Touch… what?”
He guided her hand downward—she flinched at the burning heat.
“Do you like it?”
It was heavy in her hand, almost too much to hold—like a blade at her throat. Who would dare say no?
Sui Sui nodded quickly. But then Li Chongjun said: “What about me?”
“…Ah?”
His voice turned cold at once: “Oh, so you like *it*, but not *me*.”
He hadn’t taken too much medicine—he had taken the wrong medicine altogether!
Sui Sui stared blankly at the canopy above, speechless and choking back words. Just then, Li Chongjun shifted, and her knees went weak—she thought he was about to force himself on her. She quickly blurted: “Like, like, I like you! Your Highness’s kindness is as heavy as a mountain—if I don’t like you, who else would I like!”
Unexpectedly, the impassioned Li Chongjun was so easily deceived. His thin eyelids lifted, and he gave a mocking laugh, seeming quite satisfied. Then he leaned in and captured her lips again.
At first, it was a light peck, then it gradually turned into sucking.
Heavens, would this never end? He was treating her as if she were Miss Yi!
Sui Sui was utterly hopeless. She stared at the shadow of the curtain tassels in the night, listened to the steady drip of the bronze water clock on the crescent table, and watched the osmanthus tree outside, stripped of its leaves, cast a lonely silhouette on the window screen.
Suddenly, she longed for the cold, aloof Li Chongjun of before.
The night was long—so very long.