Chapter 5
It was time to reel in Shen Yu.
When I’d left that day, the darkness in his eyes had told my erotic heroine’s instincts that some secret impulse was stirring.
So today I meant to catch him off guard.
What I hadn’t expected…
Was an even richer harvest.
I arrived four hours earlier than usual.
The instant I set foot in his study, I sensed something wrong.
The room was dark, its windows shut and lamps unlit.
Only a little sunlight filtered in, falling on his desk.
More startling was the strange, elusive smell in the air.
The scent of photinia blossoms—one an erotic heroine knew all too well.
Seeing me, Shen Yu hurried to cover the portrait on his desk.
I didn’t let him. Striding over, I pulled it away.
The woman in the painting had languid eyes and half-bared breasts.
Her face glowed with desire.
She was utterly captivating.
Who else could she be but me?
“Shameless.” I threw his own rebuke back at him. “In broad daylight, the great scholar was looking at my portrait and…pleasuring himself.”
I examined his unsatisfied expression and noticed the dampness on his clothes.
“Tsk,” I mocked. “How filthy.”
The corners of Shen Yu’s eyes reddened; his lips trembled slightly.
Whether from anger or humiliation, I couldn’t tell.
He opened his mouth to argue, but I pressed a finger to his lips.
“Shh.”
“Let me help.”
I sat on the desk and slowly leaned closer to him.
His face filled with astonishment. He still tried to push me away, yet hesitated.
His fists clenched, then loosened, and his strength gradually ebbed.
Like a fish on a chopping board, entirely at my mercy.
Before long, that initial resistance turned into bewilderment.
Soon the atmosphere in the study changed too.
After a stifled sigh, it was over.
I got up and opened the windows.
It also gave the self-restrained scholar a little time to recover.
He’d never experienced anything like that.
To his old-fashioned mind, it was depravity, degradation—something a learned man like him should despise.
Flustered and at a loss, he wanted to explain but couldn’t find the words.
I had no wish to hear Shen Yu’s insincere excuses.
Turning, I sat on his lap.
My lips brushed his ear.
My fragrance surrounded him; there was nowhere to escape it.
“Did that feel good, Master Shen?”
After a long stalemate—
At last I heard a sigh that sounded like surrender.
“…Yes.”
Chi Ye grew bolder.
Night after night, he visited secretly without fail.
Thinking I hadn’t noticed, he became ever more reckless.
He was no longer satisfied with those initial light touches.
As soon as he leaned closer, I sensed the difference.
The young general, usually so vicious and irritable, had set his sights on my feet again.
He came too close, and I couldn’t help giving another quiet murmur.
Chi Ye seemed unable to restrain himself.
He reached toward my foot again.
I almost laughed aloud.
If he knew what these feet had done that afternoon, he’d probably go home and vomit until the world spun.
At his movements, I realized I was being affected again.
In an instant, the atmosphere in the room changed.
Chi Ye could no longer conceal what was on his mind.
Suddenly, a noise came from outside.
The crown prince.
A soldier’s vigilance sent Chi Ye slipping behind the screen a second before Zhao Jingheng opened the door.
Then I felt a burning gaze roam across my face.
I knew why the prince was stirred at that moment.
After dinner that evening, he’d summoned me to his study.
He’d practiced calligraphy while I ground ink beside him.
In the middle of our conversation, he’d abruptly asked a question.
“You mustn’t judge everything by appearances. I’m not interested in you personally.”
“Miss Ning…what did you mean by that?”
He’d overheard everything I’d said to the princess a few days earlier.
Yet only today had he asked, half seriously, about the remark that concerned him most.
Zhao Jingheng had more patience and cunning than the other two.
He was testing whether I knew the real reason he’d kept me here.
And my answer would decide whether I stayed or went.
My palms were slightly damp. I decided to take a risk.
Of course he wouldn’t think much of a musical entertainer. He merely wanted to shape me into a useful pawn.
But perhaps his arrogance had made him overlook something.
When a man put too much effort into a woman, his feelings would eventually change.
I looked into his eyes then, my expression mingling a woman’s shyness and delight.
“Perhaps Your Highness…was drawn to my beauty.”
“Perhaps it’s only my face you like.”
Even the crown prince, a man who’d seen great upheavals and remained unmoved by favor or disgrace, hadn’t expected that answer.
It was both direct and subtle, exposing the attraction between us.
He gave a low laugh and nodded repeatedly. “Yes. Yes.”
“I never thought I’d become a man seduced by beauty.”
The suspicion hovering in his mind vanished in an instant, leaving no trace.
While he was in good spirits, I boldly raised a hand to stroke his brow.
My eyes held the tenderness of a woman looking at her beloved.
My words, however, were full of helplessness and self-doubt.
“I come from humble origins. My family was poor when I was young. I had to scramble for a living, and I can’t even write my own name.”
“I’m not clever and accomplished like the young ladies of the Zhang and Li families.”
“How could a woman like me…deserve a second glance from Your Highness?”
That self-deprecation made the corners of his smile sink a little.
The next instant—
He pulled me into a warm embrace.
I sat on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.
His breath touched my neck. “Are you jealous, Wanwan?”
His voice teased without the slightest displeasure. I could even hear a little eagerness.
He smoothed the hair beside my ear and said tenderly, “Nobody is born knowing how to write. If you can’t, I’ll teach you. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Mm.”
I answered with a smile.
I’d been testing his limits with that remark.
His principal consort hadn’t yet been chosen. Recently, plenty of visitors had called.
Naturally, they all came from distinguished families.
Zhao Jingheng’s response was mild. He didn’t resist, but neither was he particularly welcoming.
He pretended not to notice the young women’s flirtatious glances.
Some, though, couldn’t bear his refusal either to answer or reject them.
Boldly or shyly, they wanted an answer from him. Scenes of jealousy played out every day.
Whenever that happened, Zhao Jingheng grew irritated.
His face turned cold.
He waved as though brushing away flies.
And told the steward to see them out.
Yet when the same thing happened with me just now, he was thoroughly interested.
I knew then—the fish had taken the bait.
“Huaisong.”
The prince covered my hand with his, teaching me to write it stroke by stroke.
“That’s my courtesy name. You may call me that from now on, Wanwan.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Zhao Jingheng squeezed my hand encouragingly. “I’d like to hear it. Say it once.”
“Huaisong.”
My voice was soft, the final syllable lingering.
“Again.”
“Huaisong.”
With his permission, I grew bolder and bolder, as though delighted by the game.
My tone became ever sweeter and more enticing.
“Huaisong.”
“Your Highness…Huaisong.”
“Stop!”
The sudden warning made me shrink back.
“Have I done something wrong?”
I shifted and turned, wanting to see the expression of the man behind me.
But he held me tightly.
“No. Don’t move, Wanwan.”
His voice was low and rough.
As though he was enduring some torment.
I concealed the knowing gleam in my eyes.
In truth, I’d already noticed.
With each soft call, little Huaisong had gradually raised his head.
What had slumbered beneath the prince’s robes was awakening.
It pressed against me painfully.
I knew Zhao Jingheng truly desired me as a woman now.
But I hadn’t expected to affect him so greatly.
Enough for him, like the rough Chi Ye, to stage a midnight visit.
Now Zhao Jingheng stood beside the bed, looking at me for a long time.
Slowly he bent down, his thumb stroking back and forth over my lips.
Then a sigh sounded in the silent room.
“What am I to do…”
“I’m starting to find it hard to let you go.”