Chapter 3
Holy shit!!
Had Murong Su lost his fucking mind?!
I said, “Execute my whole clan,” and he said, “Let’s go to bed”???
I meant put my family to sleep, not sleep with me!
Staring at him, I was consumed by the rage and helplessness of trying to communicate with a pig.
No, that was an insult to pigs.
Even a pig was smarter than Murong Su.
Weakly, I clapped a hand over my mouth, afraid my nice warm lips might tell him to drop dead.
“You… aren’t eating anymore?” he asked.
I was so angry I laughed.
Still thinking about food at a time like this.
I gave up all restraint. “I am! Why wouldn’t I? I’ll eat. I love eating. I’ll eat whatever I like!”
Murong Su looked distinctly embarrassed.
Then he ventured cautiously, “Could you eat a little less?”
Ha.
I tipped my head back and laughed in fury.
Still guarding his food.
“Why?”
Another silence.
At last, he pushed the nuts toward me. “Don’t be angry. I’m only worried you’ll get heartburn.”
I went quiet. I was ashamed. I realized, profoundly, that I was an evil witch bullying this kind little pig.
Watching his eyes shift a little uneasily, I had to admit that appearances weren’t everything.
Perhaps he was a kind, innocent pig demon… No. A kind, innocent fat emperor.
I couldn’t help it. Living in this feudal society had warped me a little.
I’d developed a deep revulsion for the emperor, the supreme patriarch of all patriarchs.
But whatever else, as someone with a modern education, I shouldn’t project all my resentment of feudal rulers onto one innocent individual.
I decided to stop calling Murong Su a pig demon.
Ashamed, I lowered my head. “All right. I’ll listen to you. I won’t eat anymore.”
Ashamed though I was, I still wasn’t going to sleep with him.
To avoid it, I devised a brilliant plan.
“Your Majesty, I’ve always wanted to recite poetry for you. Would you like to listen?”
Murong Su nodded.
He lay on the bed while I sat beside it, reading poetry to him by candlelight.
I intended to lull him to sleep.
My voice was soft and low.
Who knew he’d be so determined to sleep with me? He kept his eyes open, refusing to drift off.
There was nothing for it. I could only grit my teeth and keep reading.
When the lamp finally ran dry, Murong Su rubbed his eyes. “Lie down.”
“No.” I stubbornly called for the attendants to relight it. “I’m not finished.”
The room grew bright again.
I thought I heard him sigh.
——
It wasn’t that Murong Su wasn’t sleepy.
The problem was that Mei Anqing was out of her mind and insisting on sitting at his bedside reciting poetry.
He simply didn’t dare sleep.
He was a little afraid she might eat him the moment he closed his eyes.
Yet her voice was lovely, so light and gentle. As she read, it was like clouds and cotton: clouds drifting toward him, cotton settling around him, making him feel safe.
He wasn’t angry at her insistence.
He slept poorly most nights anyway.
If she wanted to recite poetry, let her.
As he listened, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
He could no longer fight his drowsiness. Just before he fell completely asleep, he wondered hazily whether Mei Anqing had eaten her fill earlier.