Ji Yanche left for court very early, having to wake up and prepare around the fourth watch, and wouldn’t return to the estate until the wei or even shen hours of the afternoon. Even upon returning, he would always plunge straight into the study to tackle mountains of accumulated state affairs. Consequently, the time the two of them actually spent alone together was truly very little. Usually, Meng Qing could only see him after finishing his morning wash and grooming, and the two would share some tender affection in bed, engaging in intimate marital relations. Yet when he woke up the next day, only an empty bed would remain by his side.
Regarding this, Meng Qing actually wanted to say that his husband’s energy and stamina were truly too exuberant. Tossing and turning until so late every night, he could still head off to court the next morning looking radiant and refreshed, while he himself would be exhausted enough to sleep straight through until midday.
As time passed, Meng Qing gradually grew accustomed to this lifestyle. It was just that ever since the sacrificial grand ceremony, he had become exceptionally clingy. The moment Ji Yanche returned to the estate, Meng Qing would stick close like a little tail, following right by his side. Even when Ji Yanche was handling official duties in the study, Meng Qing would sit right beside him, pressing tightly against him.
Ji Yanche naturally welcomed Meng Qing’s actions, yet deep down he always felt something was somewhat amiss.
And so, one night, after Meng Qing had been kissed until his face flushed red in the other’s arms, lost in a daze of dizzy passion, Ji Yanche rubbed his waist and coaxed him:
“Has Qingqing encountered anything unpleasant recently?”
Meng Qing hooked his arms around Ji Yanche’s neck, buried his face in his chest, and rubbed against him. Hearing Ji Yanche’s words, he raised his head slightly, looking somewhat puzzled. “No, Husband, why do you ask?”
“Qingqing has been so clingy to me lately.”
It seemed he really was a bit clingy. Only then did Meng Qing realize his own change. He didn’t know what was wrong with him either; his mind was constantly filled with Ji Yanche.
How should he describe this feeling? It was as if he was terrified there would never be another chance in the future, so he had to grasp every single minute and second tightly right now, refusing to let slip any time he could spend with Ji Yanche.
Why would I have this kind of thought?
Meng Qing felt somewhat dazed, his arms unconsciously slipping downward until Ji Yanche caught them and lifted them back onto his own shoulders.
“Your husband doesn’t mean to blame Qingqing. On the contrary, I love it when Qingqing clings to me like this.”
As he spoke, Ji Yanche lowered his head once more to cover those slightly parted lips, sucking gently and tenderly, over and over again. Meng Qing instinctively closed his eyes, tilting his head back to return the kiss. After quite a while, he finally remembered what he had meant to say.
He gently pushed against Ji Yanche’s shoulders, creating a tiny gap of space between them. “That’s because I was too bored and could only pester you.”
Ji Yanche: …
“Oh.”
“So that’s how it was. Your husband is so heartbroken.” Ji Yanche feigned grievance, his brows furrowing as his face filled with a mournful expression.
Meng Qing: …
“Mn, actually it’s because I like Wenjin too much and want to stay by your side all the time.”
Does saying it like this satisfy you, TvT.
Hearing these pleasing words, Ji Yanche instantly felt thoroughly satisfied. He carefully laid Meng Qing flat on the bed, their fingers interlocking. He kissed Meng Qing’s forehead, then kissed his eyelids, trailing downward until he finally kissed the crook of his neck.
“Your husband likes Qingqing just as much.”
On a December morning, the chill was biting, and the cold wind outside the windows howled like a fierce beast, as if intent on ruthlessly tearing apart everything in the world. While the sky was still dark, Ji Yanche had already quietly risen and dressed, preparing to head off to the imperial court.
On the other side of the folding screen came the faint, rustling sound of clothing brushing together. Meng Qing rubbed his sleepy eyes, and through the gap in the screen, he hazily caught sight of Ji Yanche’s upright figure. Sitting up slowly from his warm bedding, he called out softly:
“Husband, are you leaving?”
Hearing the voice, Ji Yanche paused in his steps, then strode quickly to the bedside. He saw Meng Qing sitting up in bed, his hair disheveled and his undershirt hanging loosely off his shoulders, revealing the seductive red marks left on his skin from the previous night. Because he hadn’t slept enough, the corners of Meng Qing’s eyes were faintly flushed, looking as though veiled in a thin mist of water as he gazed expectantly at him, his eyes filled with reluctance.
Ji Yanche’s heart instantly softened into a complete mess. He stepped forward to sit on the edge of the bed, swiftly picking up the quilt to wrap Meng Qing tightly inside, terrified that he might catch even the slightest draft. Afterward, he leaned down to gently embrace Meng Qing, locking one hand around Meng Qing’s shoulder while his other hand tenderly stroked his hair, saying with a heart full of distress:
“It’s your husband’s fault. I’ll come back earlier today to keep you company.”
Ji Yanche felt a pang of heartache, knowing full well that aside from himself, Meng Qing basically only had Lingfeng and Shinian to converse with. Yet even they didn’t gather often; most of the time, Meng Qing was all alone in the estate, passing the time idly by reading, painting, or learning to play Go, waiting from dawn until dusk all by himself.
Hearing Ji Yanche’s words, Meng Qing realized he might be acting a bit too clingy and couldn’t help feeling somewhat embarrassed, quickly saying: “It’s alright, Husband should still prioritize state affairs.”
Hearing the awkwardness in Meng Qing’s words, Ji Yanche felt a bittersweet ache in his chest, yet still praised him: “Our Qingqing is truly so good.”
As he spoke, he lowered his head to rub against Meng Qing’s lips.
“Doesn’t Qingqing want to go out and play with Shinian today? It’s turning cold, so make sure to add more layers when you go out. Don’t be greedy for the cold, and you’re not allowed to buy iced treats anymore. Bring more silver with you, and if you see any trinkets you like, just buy them. If anyone bullies you outside, be sure to tell your husband, and I will definitely seek justice for you. Also…”
The usually concise and efficient Prince had suddenly turned nagging when facing his beloved, his heart and mind entirely filled with care for Meng Qing, terrified that the latter might experience even a hint of unhappiness.
Listening to these intimate words, Meng Qing felt as sweet as candied fruit inside, and just as he was about to open his mouth to reply, Chenbi’s voice sounded from outside: “Your Highness, it’s about time.”
Subconsciously, Meng Qing tightened his embrace around Ji Yanche, then slowly loosened his grip, secretly annoyed with himself for becoming increasingly overly sentimental. He smiled at Ji Yanche: “Have a safe trip, Husband, don’t work too hard.”
Ji Yanche cupped Meng Qing’s face, gazing at him with deep affection as he spoke softly:
“Darling, I’m leaving.”
With that, he helped Meng Qing lie back down, carefully tucked the blanket around him, and pinched Meng Qing’s fingers left exposed outside before instructing: “It’s still early, sleep your fill before you go out.”
After Ji Yanche left the bedroom, Meng Qing lay alone in bed, spacing out. For a long time, he pulled the quilt over his head, his burning cheeks blushing even more brilliantly crimson in the dim, cozy warmth of the bedding.
The North Street Teahouse
Meng Qing arrived a little early and didn’t spot Shinian’s figure yet. He was just pondering whether he should step inside to wait when suddenly, an arm lightly draped over his shoulder, and simultaneously, a teasing voice rang out beside his ear:
“Beauty, who are you waiting for?”
Hearing this familiar voice, Meng Qing’s heart leaped with joy. He quickly turned his head, and sure enough, he saw Shinian’s smiling, beaming face.
“Shinian, you’re here!”
Shinian smiled apologetically at Meng Qing. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Meng Qing shook his head. “I haven’t been waiting long. Where are we going?”
“A circus has come from the Western Regions. I went to check it out a few days ago, and it’s exceptionally interesting. Figuring you’d like it too, I wanted to take you along to see it. It’s not far from here, want to go?” Shinian smiled as he looked at him and asked.
Meng Qing found the idea immensely novel, and even less inclined to turn down such goodwill, so he hurriedly answered: “Yes, yes!”
Receiving his consent, Shinian pulled him forward as they started walking, while Meng Qing’s puzzled voice drifted from behind:
“Shinian, what’s a circus?”