Meng Guqing had no trouble dealing with him. She told Fusang to warm a jug of yellow wine, found the bruise-and-trauma ointment she’d made herself, and said to the youth, fresh from his bath, straight as a tender scallion stalk: “Your Majesty, lie down. I’ll rub it for you, all right?”
This was a family skill. In the past, when her maternal grandfather sat bent over his desk too long, he would need a massage; after her grandmother passed, she took over. She hadn’t used the technique in a long while, but her hands hadn’t gone stiff. She spread the ointment in her palms, rubbed until it melted and her palms grew warm, and traced along the edges of the purplish bruises to ease the soreness in the muscles. Because she had never stopped exercising, she had considerable strength in her hands; her acupoint-finding was precise, hardness and softness perfectly balanced, very comfortable.
Zhao Donglin had originally only planned to use his injuries as an excuse to wheedle some affection. But her massage worked even better than the trauma physicians of the Imperial Infirmary. And because a woman’s hands were naturally softer and gentler than a man’s, the gradual pressure even made the sharp stabs of pain tolerable. The herbs she used carried a faint, soft fragrance, and the warm compress didn’t irritate his skin at all.
Lying on his stomach with his head on the pillow, he turned to look at the Empress. In the lamplight, the side of her face was veiled in a gentle halo; so soft, so serene, focused wholly on what she was doing. His heartbeat sped up uncontrollably. Meng Guqing massaged him for nearly half an hour. The person lying down didn’t make a sound the whole time. Her fingertips brushed firm contours; indeed, he’d gotten a bit sturdier than before. She thought: men really do build muscle quickly. Unlike her, because of her weak constitution, it had taken her nearly two years to slowly train out a faint set of abs.
Fortunately, she wasn’t obsessed with being overly thin. She only made sure she had no fat at her waist; as for the slight bulge on her lower belly, working in the clinic every day, she knew that was the uterus, not abdominal fat. She’d never followed mainstream aesthetics anyway. In her previous life she liked the healthy, sun-kissed, curvy European-American type. In this life too, health was her first priority, fleshy in the right places, balanced and elegant. So she did have some softness on her body, but because her baseline constitution was good, the flesh grew only where it should; combined with her training, it only added elasticity and suppleness, firm, but without obvious muscle definition.
The young emperor, in just a few days, had already built firm, solid muscles across his back. Even lying down he was broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, long-legged, very pleasant to look at. And because he was easy on the eyes, massaging him wasn’t much trouble. Time slipped quietly by. After the last set of relaxation techniques, Meng Guqing straightened up to go wash her hands, only to be grabbed by someone who flipped over swiftly and sat up. Smiling, he said, “The Empress massaged me for so long, your hands must be tired. I should repay kindness with kindness and massage you too.”
Zhao Donglin held her hand. Her fingers were slender and pink-tipped; her palm was warm and soft. As he held it, his thoughts began to stray. Meng Guqing didn’t have time to humor him. She pulled her hand back, used the hot water Fusang had mixed, washed with fragrant soap, and turned back with a smile: “Your Majesty, hurry and put on your clothes. Supper is ready. Cold weather, eating cold food isn’t good.”
Always like this, no matter how he teased or coaxed, the Empress remained as dense as a wooden block. If it were any other concubine, he would have walked off long ago. People said that the favored grew spoiled, yet the Empress, who clearly had no favor, was still this proud. Was she really not afraid he’d ignore her? Confused and sulky, Zhao Donglin threw on his robe and paced in front of Meng Guqing, tugging the cord of the fish-pattern jade pendant at her waist. Half-earnest, half-playful, he said: “I’m injured, doesn’t the Empress feel distressed for me? You didn’t even ask.”
Meng Guqing silently appealed to the heavens. She truly felt that the person in front of her wasn’t a young emperor but a big kid who had overstayed kindergarten. “I don’t feel distressed? Then I suppose that half-hour of effort I just spent was for nothing. Your Majesty should go find someone else, then.”
Hearing her say “distressed,” his heart instantly felt dipped in honey, sweet to overflowing. Zhao Donglin pressed his lips together to hide his smile and continued to act spoiled: “Then why doesn’t the Empress think to speak to Guard Tan for me? If my royal mother or Noble Consort Xu knew I suffered this many injuries, they would have gone to him long ago.”
“Does Your Majesty want me to go talk to Guard Tan?” Meng Guqing finished washing her hands and applied a bit of hand cream. The oversized child saw it and came over to ask for a dab. She said, “A ruler bears the burdens of the people. To toil in mind and body is unavoidable. Beginnings are the hardest. This is a crucial time, endure a little now, and the days ahead will be much easier.”
“The Empress puts it nicely. Everyone else has their ministers share their burdens. I’m the only one suffering for them.” He said this, but he was quite pleased. If the whole palace heard that someone as pampered as he was had gotten covered in injuries from practicing martial arts, everyone including the Noble Consort would tell him to take care of himself. Only the Empress felt it was natural. And in truth, he thought so too, otherwise he wouldn’t have come to her palace for medicine.
He had just been wondering, since the Empress clearly had no favor, how could she still act so unrestrained? And why was he still willing to come to her again and again? In this inner palace, it practically counted as “a journey.” Now he understood: precisely because the Empress understood him the best. When he came to see her, it wasn’t only that faint, elusive fondness acting up, he genuinely enjoyed being with her.
After dinner, Zhao Donglin wanted to bathe again. He had been fastidious since childhood and couldn’t stand even a bit of grime. Meng Guqing stopped him: “You just applied medicine, and it hasn’t fully taken effect yet. Best not to bathe.”
“I’m only afraid the smell of medicinal ointment will get on your bedding and dirty it.” He tugged her closer. “As long as the Empress doesn’t mind, then I won’t trouble myself.”
With him putting it like that, even if she minded, she couldn’t say so. The ointment was something she had made herself with premium herbs; it wasn’t unpleasant at all. Under the gradually dimming candlelight, the two of them climbed into bed. The palace maids lowered the layered bed curtains; Feng Tianbao led the attendants away to rest.
Meng Guqing slowly closed her eyes. The person beside her grew restless again. He slipped out of his own covers into hers, his young body pressed up against her back, firmer and more solid than before. Meng Guqing instantly lost her composure. She turned to face him, at least preventing him from hugging her from behind.
Zhao Donglin really was excited. At fifteen he had been taught about the matters between men and women, and for two years he had indeed been very interested in women. But with more experiences, his attention gradually shifted from the pleasures of the bed to the person sharing the act. He discovered that although many women were beautiful, none matched him in mind or spirit. The shift from quantity to quality was disappointing until he confirmed his feelings with Wan’er, and then, under the Empress Dowager’s layers of defenses, sneaked a taste of forbidden fruit, there was indeed a thrill of secret rendezvous.
After Wan’er became pregnant, he had summoned others to his bed, but being with them felt merely like filling his stomach when hungry, ordinary. He had long lacked that union of body and heart. Now, holding the Empress, feeling the fierce excitement in his body, he realized he desired more than he had admitted to himself.
Ever since he began training with Tan Ying, as his body grew stronger, his needs in that regard also seemed to increase. He truly did want the Empress… Meng Guqing’s choice to face the young emperor actually made things easier for him. His urgent, heated kiss covered her lips before she could speak, tongues tangling, making her lips and tongue go numb.
His hand on the back of her head was as steady as iron, holding her in place. The other slipped inside her robes, caressing her soft, smooth waist for a moment before reluctantly traveling upward. His hand was large and hot; he cupped a not-so-small mound for quite some time. His lips finally left hers and wandered to her cheek. Nestled by her ear, he whispered with heated breath, laughing: “…So big. Why is the Empress so stingy, never willing to let me touch…”
Meng Guqing’s face burned, breath uneven. She hurriedly said, “Your Majesty, I’m not convenient right now…”
Just as he was about to lose patience, half-pressing onto her, Zhao Donglin also discovered the unusual thickness of her undergarments. He froze, then instantly went from a domineering, lust-heavy superior to a puppy begging for candy. Inside the canopy one could hear nothing but his aggrieved complaint: “But what do I do? I already…” He grabbed her hand and guided it down.
Hard. Large. Burning… Meng Guqing yanked her hand back. Thankfully she had prepared in advance, otherwise she definitely wouldn’t escape tonight… “It’s not that late yet and even if it is, it’s fine. I’ll have Feng Gonggong escort Your Majesty back. Whoever Your Majesty wants to serve tonight, I’ll send word immediately.”
Zhao Donglin froze even harder. He wanted that, yes but that wasn’t the only reason he’d come. Seeing that she was “inconvenient,” she just told him to leave? What did she take him for? His heart grew sour. And to push him out like that, she really didn’t care at all.
Upset, with the culprit still fussing, he bit her lip hard. Hearing her hiss in pain wasn’t enough. He bent down and bit the top of the mound he’d just been touching—eliciting an even better response. Meng Guqing frowned inwardly. She’d refused too abruptly, too stiffly, and surely hurt his pride. She tentatively lifted a hand and touched his head: “Your Majesty…”
The young man, buried in her chest, finally let out a breath. He lay back down beside her, endured the discomfort, and pulled her tightly into his arms. “I don’t have to do anything. Don’t be nervous. I’ll just stay here. Let’s sleep.”
She seriously doubted he could fall asleep. The thing poking her waist had an extremely strong presence. Even if he could sleep, she couldn’t. But she had already upset him once, and she herself felt guilty, she dared not tug the tiger’s whiskers any further. She forced herself to relax as his breathing gradually steadied.
Outside, the third watch drum receded. Meng Guqing stared blankly at the dim canopy, seeing nothing at all. She had assumed the person beside her was already asleep, but suddenly, in a dreamlike murmur, he said: “Empress… I’ll wait for you. However long it takes, I’ll wait. Just… don’t let me wait forever…”
She was startled, thinking he had discovered her deception but after that single sentence, he truly seemed tired. He found a comfortable spot in the hollow of her shoulder, nuzzled once, and went still.
Want to show your support? Go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! Want to read 5 extra chapters in advance? Go to my Patreon to join now! :)
