“Top Scholar!”
In the darkness of the night, the Changling Guards were the first to spot Xie Caiqing and were immediately alarmed.
His clothes were disheveled, his hands still bound behind his back, and he staggered unsteadily as if about to collapse at any moment.
Dressed in his signature ink-white robes, he was already strikingly conspicuous. His skin, unnaturally pale, seemed to glow faintly in the moonless night, making him even easier to spot.
Xiao Yun internally remarked that he truly looked like a luminous night pearl in the dark. Striding forward quickly, he took in the scholar’s disheveled state and frowned, gesturing, “Untie him.”
The Changling Guards obeyed immediately, rushing forward to free him.
The scholar didn’t resist. He merely stood there, tilting his head to silently gaze at him.
Xiao Yun smirked. “What are you looking at me for?”
Gone was his usual icy aloofness; the scholar seemed strangely docile, his cheeks tinged red. He appeared calm, yet the fire burning in his pitch-black eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. His entire body trembled slightly, like a wounded white-furred fox.
Behind him, his bound hands instinctively clenched and relaxed, as if grasping for something—only to find nothing. An ever-expanding emptiness spread within his gaze.
His eyes, shimmering with an unusual mist, appeared as if they were burning.
Xiao Yun realized something. His frown deepened, his eyes turning frosty. “He drugged you, didn’t he?”
Qi Wang spent his days in his manor, meddling with a group of Daoist alchemists—Xiao Yun was well aware of it.
His drugs were so potent that neither common healers nor even the imperial physicians could concoct an antidote. But he himself would have one.
The scholar said nothing. It was unclear whether he was unable to speak or if his mind was too muddled. His teeth sank deeper into his lower lip, as if desperately holding something back, teetering on the brink of collapse. Xiao Yun could even see the faint traces of blood on his lips.
At the same time, his trembling intensified, and the rims of his eyes reddened slightly.
Xiao Yun smacked his forehead and pointed at him. “You better not cry. A man should be strong. I’m telling you, if you cry, I’ll spank you. Just wait—Yin Xian, go get—”
Behind him, the Changling Guards struggled to finally undo the layers of rope binding the scholar’s hands. Just as they were about to steady him, the scholar suddenly flung himself into the emperor’s arms.
Xiao Yun was overwhelmed, anxiously wondering why Yin Xian, that useless b*stard, hadn’t arrived yet. Suddenly, he felt something pressing against his chest. Stunned, he looked down in disbelief.
Xie Caiqing’s robes were already loosened, carelessly tugged open by himself. His outer garment hung wide open, revealing the smooth inner layer beneath.
He was always impeccably dressed, meticulous and untouchably refined—like a breeze under a clear sky. But now, separated from Xiao Yun by only a thin layer of fabric, he pressed against him closely.
“Hot.” The man before him didn’t stop at shedding his outer robe; he was now tugging at his inner garment.
Xiao Yun had only been distracted for a few seconds, yet all barriers had already been removed by the man himself.
A glimpse of skin, even more lustrous and smooth than Xie Caiqing’s face, flashed before Xiao Yun’s eyes, making his breath hitch.
His gaze followed the thin, sinful red cord downward, landing on the white jade pendant resting at the very center of Xie Caiqing’s chest, as if proclaiming ownership. His eyes darkened instantly, his Adam’s apple rolling.
“Hot,” Xie Caiqing murmured, grasping at the hand Xiao Yun had left hanging at his side. He lifted his gaze, eyes burning with distress. “So hot… Touch me…”
“Put it back on!” Xiao Yun snapped back to his senses, barking the command as he averted his gaze. He yanked the inner garment from Xie Caiqing’s grasp, trying to pull it back up, but somehow, it was futile.
The once neat and pristine inner garment was now covered in his messy handprints.
The Changling Guard stood at attention, eyes wide, heart hammering. He dared not lift his gaze again, terrified of offending either the emperor or the top scholar.
Xie Caiqing, lost in delirium, let his long, delicate fingers wander to Xiao Yun’s clothing, tugging at it.
Xiao Yun jolted, staring at him in shock, the veins on his forehead throbbing uncontrollably.
Yet Xie Caiqing seemed entirely unaware of what he was doing.
His fingers—long, slender, and meant for elegant pursuits like playing chess and the qin—were now impatiently stripping away all obstacles for something far less refined.
Xiao Yun’s ink-black eyes deepened, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Do you even know what this means?”
Xie Caiqing clearly did not. He stood on tiptoe, bringing his lips close to Xiao Yun’s ear. “I feel awful… I need…”
His voice was hoarse with urgency, teetering on the edge of breaking. His usual composure and aloofness had completely shattered, leaving only raw longing and dependence in his gaze.
The warmth of his breath mixed with his faint, cool fragrance, engulfing Xiao Yun. Blood surged uncontrollably through his veins. D*mn it.
He looked at Xie Caiqing with a half-smile.
Xie Caiqing’s body stiffened. The mask he had so carefully maintained faltered, and for a fleeting moment, pure panic flashed in his eyes. The unknown, the pounding fear, made his heart clench in terror. His fingers trembled slightly, all the lessons ingrained into him useless in this moment. In the end, he was still the obedient child molded by his imperial brother.
But Xiao Yun’s already limited patience had run out. He let out a derisive chuckle. What the h*ll? Was he supposed to play the chaste maiden being seduced?
“What is it that you want?” he pressed, his voice dangerously low.
The man before him froze, biting his lip without answering.
Xiao Yun let out another laugh, his gaze turning ice-cold. Without hesitation, he yanked Xie Caiqing back into his arms, holding him firm.
The top scholar turned a deeper shade of red, caught between panic and fear.
“What do you want?” Xiao Yun whispered against the shell of his ear.
His voice carried a teasing, almost cruel chill, like an adult coaxing and intimidating a child. As if, should Xie Caiqing obediently speak his desires, he would be granted them—until he sobbed and begged for mercy, swearing he’d never dare again.
In a split second, Xie Caiqing’s breath grew ragged like never before, yet his mind had never been clearer.
This was exactly what he had wanted all along. Things had turned out far better than he anticipated—this was the ideal outcome. Xiao Yun desired him now, voluntarily, without coercion. The first time would naturally lead to the second, the third, and many more after that.
All it would take was a single word, and he would succeed.
Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself and plunged forward. Still feigning dazed confusion, he even took the initiative—standing on tiptoe, he pressed a tentative kiss to the corner of Xiao Yun’s lips in a gesture of submission.
“Want… want you.”
The Changling Guard wished they could bury their heads into the ground. D*mn these ears! At this point, there was no turning back—His Majesty and the top scholar were bound to…
Xie Caiqing: “I want…”
Xiao Yun lowered his gaze, savoring the barely-there touch at the corner of his lips. But his eyes, for a brief moment, turned unreadable—cold as ice.
Then, he lazily smirked. “Qi Wang certainly went through great effort. As his uncle, how could I compete with my own nephew? If the top scholar wants so badly…”
Xie Caiqing’s heart plummeted into an abyss.
Xiao Yun shoved him away without mercy. “Summon Qi Wang.”
The Changling Guards, heads lowered, eyes widened in shock. To be able to push him away at a time like this—there was likely no one else in the world but His Majesty himself.
Xie Caiqing’s heart pounded wildly, his mind going blank, all thoughts momentarily wiped away.
His fingers clenched inside his sleeves, knuckles turning white from the force.
Why? Why push him away?
He had been certain Xiao Yun wanted him…
Had he made a mistake? Or was there something about Xiao Yun he had yet to understand?
Years of experience allowed him to regain clarity at record speed.
Panic was never useful—especially in the face of an opponent. It would only double his vulnerability without offering any real solution.
Without hesitation, he forced himself to calm down.
Right now, he was supposed to be in a haze—he shouldn’t have heard Xiao Yun’s words, nor reacted to them.
He wasn’t supposed to know that the man before him was the emperor.
Xiao Yun stared at him unblinkingly.
Xie Caiqing’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest. But being pushed away seemed to have broken him further—his eyes grew hazy with unshed tears, as if he had just been cast down from paradise into h*ll. The contrast left him both aggrieved and desperate, his eyes reddening like a helpless, trembling rabbit. Mist swirled in his gaze, only to be quickly dissipated by the heat, again and again.
Haze formed, then faded—an endless cycle. He let out occasional, stifled groans of discomfort.
Even now, his instincts demanded restraint. He bit his lip, swallowing back any humiliating noises, allowing only the most fragmented sounds to escape—only making the moment all the more evocative.
Pressing down on him, the Changling Guard felt a deep sense of distress.
Xiao Yun’s expression remained impassive, but the veins on his arms bulged repeatedly.
The messenger sent to summon Qi Wang had yet to return, and Xiao Yun seemed unwilling to wait any longer. He ordered, “Take him to the back chamber and have Qi Wang come over. The rest of you, return to the palace with me.”
With long strides, Xiao Yun left.
The two Changling Guards restraining Xie Caiqing obeyed the command to stay behind, while the others quickly followed after their emperor.
Xie Caiqing’s heart pounded as if it might burst from his chest.
