Chapter 2

I almost laughed in fury.

With my life hanging in the balance, who had time for self-respect?

I only wanted to get pregnant and live a little longer.

Even after his rejection, I shamelessly waited at my cell door every night.

Whenever he passed, I displayed my soft, slender waist, pushed out my breasts to reveal a deep cleft, or, failing that, gazed at him with all the longing I could put into my eyes.

He never paused. If anything, he walked faster, leaving me grinding my teeth.

With little more than a month until the execution, I began to panic.

One morning, the condemned prisoners, bored out of their minds, started talking through the bars about why they had been arrested.

“I was a bandit. Arson, murder, robbery—I’ve done plenty of evil.”

Well, that one deserved to die.

“I wanted to be emperor, so I had a dragon robe made. They arrested me before I even put it on.”

Oh. An idiot.

“I’m the tailor who made his dragon robe. They arrested me too.”

Ah. A fool.

“I’m a genius. I invented an aphrodisiac powder. One whiff, and a man loses all control. It’s never failed anyone who’s used it.”

“Because it never failed, far too many men suffered. That’s why they arrested me.”

I had almost nodded off. At that, I perked up and strained to listen.

The speaker was a man with a pointed face and pinched cheeks in the cell opposite mine.

“They confiscated my powder, but I hid a little vial on me. At least I won’t have to make the journey to the underworld alone.”

Suddenly, pregnancy seemed possible again.

I struck up a friendly conversation with him.

“You’re amazing, sir. To invent something that works so well!”

He couldn’t resist flattery. Swelling with pride, he talked endlessly about his powder.

By the end, he looked delighted to have found someone who understood him. He called me a good girl who knew a treasure when she saw one, and insisted on giving it to me.

“I’ve noticed how long you’ve been trying to bed that jailer. This treasure’s no use to me anymore. You might as well have it.”

He grinned, showing his teeth. “Every man it brings down is another triumph for me.”

With that, a small wooden box sailed through the narrow gap between the bars and landed in front of me.

“Open it when the jailer comes. I guarantee you’ll have him that very night.”

I had only one dose of the powder, and I treasured it.

To make certain my one attempt succeeded, I worked out the right day and waited for the jailer well in advance.

As he passed my bars as usual, I swiftly caught his sleeve.

“My lord, I’ve twisted my ankle again. Please look at it.”

This time, he wasn’t so easily fooled. “Bear it.”

“But it really hurts. I can’t.” I lifted my skirt, revealing my calves. Red scratches marked them, some still dripping blood.

I had scratched myself just before he arrived to lure him inside.

He frowned. In the end, his compassion as a healer won out, and he took the bait again.

“Let me see.”

The moment he entered, I slammed the iron door shut, closed the barred window, and flung every bit of powder in the box into his face.

He stared at me in astonishment. “Liu Wenyan, what are you doing?”

His face reddened before my eyes. Within moments, his chest was heaving.

He turned to leave, but I braced myself against the door and blocked him.

“My lord, a moment of pleasure is worth a thousand pieces of gold. Why waste such a lovely night?”

As I spoke, I loosened his belt.

His chest lay bare before me, his body taut and already glistening with a fine layer of sweat.

He gave a low groan of discomfort and still tried to escape.

With my back against the door, facing him, I slipped off my white prison clothes, revealing the pale pink undergarment beneath.

His breathing deepened. His cheeks flushed, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

I stood across the only way out. He couldn’t leave, and in that small, closed space the powder took its full effect.

Still struggling to hold on to his composure, he said, “Liu Wenyan. Let me out.”

When I refused to move, he reached to push me away. But the moment his burning fingertips touched my skin, he went rigid.

While he stood motionless, I nestled against him, looped my arms around his neck, and breathed softly against him.

Then I slipped the tie loose at my back and let the undergarment fall too.

He gripped my shoulders, breathing hard. A long while passed before he rasped, “Liu Wenyan, you’re just like you are in my dreams.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me, and you still pretend?” Smiling up at him, I kissed his ear.

“Admit it, my lord. You’ve wanted me ever since you brought me that water.”

“Otherwise, how would you know my name so well?”

He said nothing. His gaze darkened, like a hunter catching the scent of prey.

“My lord?” I called again.

The world suddenly spun. He pinned me against the iron door and caught my hands behind my back.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Jiang Qingsong.”

“And you brought this on yourself. Don’t start crying later, Liu Wenyan.”

Jiang Qingsong was every bit as capable as I’d imagined.

He blindfolded me, so I couldn’t see what was happening. I could only cry and call him “Qingsong.”

The night watch sounded several times outside. It must have been nearing dawn.

At last, the drug wore off. He rose, looking thoroughly refreshed, and dressed with unhurried care, layer by layer.

I sat on the straw with my back against the wall, staring absently at the red marks on him.

Once dressed, Jiang Qingsong bent down and looked coldly at me. “Liu Wenyan, that was a despicable trick.”

“It was. I’ve sullied you, my lord.” I looked up at him with a smile. “Please forgive me.”

He frowned. I couldn’t tell whether he disliked my answer or being called “my lord.”

Instead of leaving, he asked coldly, “Tell me why you were sentenced to beheading.”

“Haven’t you read my case file? You must know why. Why insist on asking me?”

I answered lazily, without lifting my eyes.

He wouldn’t let it go. Catching my chin, he forced me to look up at him.

“What’s written in a file is one thing. Hearing it from you is another. I want you to tell me yourself.”

I obligingly gave him what he wanted. “Jiang Qingsong, I killed people.”

“I’m cruel and ruthless. I killed eighteen people. My hands are covered in blood, and I was sentenced to beheading.”

Jiang Qingsong fell silent for a moment. Then he released my chin, smoothed his robes, and turned away.

Before long, he came back.

He brought me a new set of prison clothes, clean bedding, a cloth, and fresh water.

He stood with his hands behind his back in the only place the light reached.

“I remember the file clearly saying you killed nineteen.”

“Whatever the truth, Liu Wenyan, take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, my lord.” I accepted the things and stepped back, putting a clear distance between us.

All I hoped was that those few hours tonight had given me the child I wanted.

I still had something left to do. I didn’t want to die.

For several nights afterward, a different jailer made the rounds.

The man opposite, with nothing better to do, began chatting with me.

“Little sister, is that jailer you like avoiding you on purpose?”

“Wasn’t he always the one on duty at night?”

Wrapped in my quilt with only my head showing, I said, “Let him avoid me. The powder’s gone anyway. There’s nothing I can do.”

He sighed deeply. “What a blockhead. A beauty like you throws herself at him, and he doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

But that night, Jiang Qingsong finally appeared again.

He wore a dark purple robe. Stopping at my cell, he fixed his gaze on me.

I had been sleeping soundly. Hearing someone knock on the door, I opened my eyes groggily.

At the sight of him, I paused, then rolled over and burrowed back into my quilt. “My lord?”

“What brings you here so late?”

“Liu Wenyan, didn’t you used to wait for me by the door at this hour?” His face was dark, his tone unreadable.

That caught my interest. My sleepiness vanished.

I went to him, with only the bars between us, and asked with a smile, “You always used to hurry past my cell. So you were sneaking looks at me after all?”

“Is this what they call saying no when your body says yes?”

I only meant to tease him. I hadn’t expected such a strong reaction.

Jiang Qingsong opened the door, backed me into a corner, and slid his hand over my waist.

“I told you not to call me ‘my lord.’”

“Oh? What should I call you, then?” I pushed my chest forward a little and blinked at him in feigned confusion.

His throat moved. “What you called me when you cried that night.”

“Then…” Smiling faintly, I rose onto my toes and murmured in his ear, “Qingsong?”

His hold on my waist tightened sharply. His breath caught, and he said through gritted teeth, “Liu Wenyan, you’ve ruined me.”