Creaaak—
The door opened.
The man in the tub still had his eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering with irritation at the sound.
“Out,” he rasped. “Didn’t I say—no one enters without my permission?”
The person didn’t heed him. After closing the door, they walked slowly toward him.
Sensing something, Fu Zhixian tried to get up from the tub, only for a hand with red-stained nails to gently press down on his bare shoulder, and he slumped back as if all strength had left him.
“Cold bath feel good?” she asked.
Fu Zhixian chuckled. His submerged body looked like fragile porcelain ready to shatter. “It’s hot in summer. A cold bath is most refreshing.”
“Then soak a little longer, Lord Fu.” Feng Lezhen curved her lips into a smile.
Fu Zhixian stared at her for a long moment before his eyes reddened and he held out a hand. “Your Highness… I’m injured.”
She knew full well that beauty could be a man’s grave, and that the red in his eyes came from the drug. Still, after gazing at him for a long time, she took his hand.
Splash—
Water sloshed everywhere as Fu Zhixian struggled to stand. The wound on his chest came into full view.
It was deep, the skin torn and blood still seeping out despite the soaking. The water in the tub was already tinged red.
“Why didn’t you get a doctor?” she asked, helping him out of the bath.
“The more who know, the greater the risk,” Fu Zhixian answered.
Feng Lezhen lifted her eyes. “How very considerate of you, worrying about that girl’s reputation.”
“I was worried that if you found out, you’d be upset,” Fu Zhixian replied with a wry smile.
“I already know,” said Feng Lezhen.
“Then it was all for nothing,” Fu Zhixian sighed. “If I’d known I couldn’t keep it from you, I should’ve asked Your Highness to cover for me.”
Feng Lezhen smiled silently and tossed the cloth towel at him.
“Your Highness, help me wipe down,” Fu Zhixian said, unmoving.
Feng Lezhen narrowed her eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Fu Zhixian placed the towel into her hand. His cool fingertips brushed against her wrist, sending a subtle shiver up her arm.
The two stood in silence before the wooden bath. Fu Zhixian’s lips had turned pale from the cold, his whole body trembling slightly, yet his gaze on her remained steady and unwavering.
After a long pause, Feng Lezhen let out a quiet sigh and began to wipe his body.
Unlike Chen Jinan’s still-youthful frame, Fu Zhixian’s body was fully matured—broad shoulders, narrow waist, and sharply defined muscles. Even a glance was enough for Feng Lezhen to sense the latent power beneath the surface.
His body was icy from soaking in the cold water too long, yet when her fingers, through the cloth, touched his skin, she could still feel the heat of his breath.
The room seemed to warm subtly. There was a slight heat in the look Fu Zhixian gave her, but Feng Lezhen acted as if she didn’t notice, her hand gliding inch by inch across his chest through the towel.
Once she’d wiped him down in a perfunctory manner, Fu Zhixian—who had been trembling with cold—was now faintly sweating. Feng Lezhen tossed him a nightrobe, and he received it with a smile. His hands, scratched all over from the rose bushes, moved slowly as he dressed. He wasn’t a god; of course he felt pain. Each time the cloth brushed a wound, his breath would hitch.
Feng Lezhen calmly watched him get dressed, then tossed a small medicine bottle at him.
“Take it,” she said.
Without hesitation, Fu Zhixian swallowed the pill inside.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ve poisoned you?” Feng Lezhen scoffed softly and walked over to sit on the footstool beside the bed.
Fu Zhixian followed with a smile. “To die by Your Highness’s hand would be an honorable death.”
Feng Lezhen pulled a jar of ointment from beneath his pillow and gestured for him to sit. He joined her on the stool, their bodies naturally brushing together.
Lowering her gaze, Feng Lezhen scooped a bit of ointment with her fingertip and gently applied it to his wounds.
“Mm…” Fu Zhixian let out a pained murmur.
“Just one inch deeper, and not even the gods could save you,” Feng Lezhen said evenly. “You should’ve yielded to her. No need to risk your life.”
“If I gave in to her, Your Highness wouldn’t want me anymore.” Fu Zhixian gripped her wrist. “I know you like things clean.”
Feng Lezhen raised her eyes and met his gaze quietly.
After a while, she said, “Let go.”
Fu Zhixian smiled and released her without resistance.
Her fingers didn’t tremble in the slightest as she spread the ointment evenly and then carefully wrapped his wound with gauze. Her eyes were cast down, lashes catching the moonlight streaming into the room, gilding them with a soft glow.
Fu Zhixian stared at her, holding his breath unconsciously.
“We should still have a physician look at it tomorrow…” Feng Lezhen looked up, accidentally brushing her nose against his. They both froze.
The chirping of insects outside was fading into the distance. A faint breeze stirred. In the dark bedchamber lit only by moonlight, they were so close they could not clearly see each other’s features.
Snapping out of it, Feng Lezhen moved to rise—but a large, slender hand suddenly gripped her arm.
“Your Highness, I think the drug in my body is acting up again.” His voice, low and slightly hoarse, brushed against her ear with a hint of enticement.
Feng Lezhen curled her lips in a soundless smile. “What you just took was the antidote.”
“Was it?” he murmured. “But it feels like it wasn’t quite enough.” He bent slightly, planting a light kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then the corner of her lips. Each kiss was delicate, as though she were a fragile treasure.
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a long moment, then slowly cupped his jaw in the darkness and kissed him back.
A flicker of a smile passed through Fu Zhixian’s eyes, and he deepened the kiss.
The heat in the sealed bedchamber rose steadily. Clothes were discarded piece by piece. At some point, the clean gauze over Fu Zhixian’s chest began to show traces of fresh blood. The stain colored Feng Lezhen’s fingertips a red more vivid than rouge.
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?” Feng Lezhen exhaled a warm breath amid the intimacy.
Fu Zhixian slid his left hand between her waist and the bedsheet, pulling her closer. “Not with you here.”
Feng Lezhen gave a quiet laugh and ran a hand over his ear in reward.
The moonlight outside was bright. Tomorrow would surely be another fine day.
The night was peaceful. Ah Ye had fallen asleep leaning against the outer courtyard wall, but Chen Jinan remained awake, quietly gazing at the moon.
After a long time, he reached toward the moonlight—only to catch sight of his worn, faded sleeve. His eyes shifted, and he slowly lowered his hand again, his expression still and serene like a calm lake.
The night passed without further words. As expected, the next morning brought brilliant sunshine.
The previous night, Fu Zhixian hadn’t used ice with his cold bath, and once Feng Lezhen arrived, the matter slipped her mind completely. As a result, he woke early from the heat and found the person beside him still sound asleep, hair slightly damp.
He’d spiked a high fever during the second half of the night. Waking up, he realized how hot the room had gotten. He had wanted to quietly ask someone to bring ice, but she hadn’t shrunk away like before. Instead, she clung close the whole time. Afraid of waking her, he hadn’t called for help and spent the entire night overheated.
Fortunately, she hadn’t been disturbed by the heat and slept well.
Fu Zhixian quietly watched her peaceful face and suddenly recalled the first time they met. He had already returned to the Fu family for four years, but his birth mother’s remains were still buried in the wilderness. When he went to pay his respects, he encountered the seven-year-old Eldest Princess, who had snuck out of the palace to play.
“You’re from the Fu family. Why isn’t your mother buried in the ancestral tomb, but out here in the middle of nowhere?” The little Eldest Princess, plump and jade-like, had looked at him with innocent confusion.
At that time, he was already ten years old. After enduring four years of torment in the Fu household, he had long since learned what should and shouldn’t be said. But when he met her bright, clear eyes, he still ended up saying everything: “My father was the second son of the Fu family. My mother was a courtesan. The Fu family disapproved of their marriage, so they left the capital ten years ago to make a living elsewhere. Then four years ago, the Fu family brought us back.”
“I’ve heard about this. Your mother was driven to suicide, wasn’t she? And then your father followed her. It caused an uproar across the entire capital,” the little Eldest Princess swayed her head as she spoke, but didn’t seem annoyed. “I didn’t expect things to get that serious, and they still wouldn’t let your mother into the family tomb. No wonder my father says the Fu family are all insufferable old sticklers.”
“Fu Zhixian, I’ll make the decision for you. How about I let you move your mother’s grave back to the Fu ancestral tomb?” Standing atop the small slope, the little Eldest Princess looked down at him as she asked.
“Fu Zhixian, I’ll decide for you.”
“Fu Zhixian.”
The childish voice from memory merged with the lazy tone of the present. Fu Zhixian came back to himself, smiling at the newly awakened Eldest Princess: “I’m here.”
“What were you thinking about, that you were so lost in thought?” Feng Lezhen leaned against the pillow, a light sheen of sweat on her skin.
“I was thinking about when we first met,” Fu Zhixian replied.
Feng Lezhen’s eyes shifted, clearly reminded by his words: “Oh, I said I’d make the decision for you and have your mother’s grave relocated. But you didn’t agree. Said you wanted to rely on yourself.”
“Your Highness remembers?” Fu Zhixian’s smile deepened.
Feng Lezhen gave him a lazy glance: “Too bad so many years have passed, and you’ve yet to make anything of yourself.”
“No rush. It’s just a matter of time.” Fu Zhixian got up to wring out a towel, intending to wipe her face.
Feng Lezhen felt the chill from the towel and instinctively leaned back: “Use hot water.”
“Hot water?” Fu Zhixian was surprised. “Aren’t you hot?”
“No.” Feng Lezhen frowned at the towel like it was something dirty.
“All right, my little ancestor,” Fu Zhixian sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and carried the basin out.
Feng Lezhen laid on her pillow, drifting back into drowsiness.
Fu Zhixian, used to handling her affairs personally, carried the basin out himself—only to see Chen Jinan standing guard just outside the courtyard gate.
The two locked eyes. Fu Zhixian curved his lips into a smile: “So, how does it feel to rise to power just because of someone else?”
“Lord Fu.” Chen Jinan gave a polite nod, acting as if he hadn’t heard the jab.
Fu Zhixian walked past him slowly, then suddenly stopped: “I met Her Highness when I was ten. We reunited when I was twelve. Since then, I’ve always stayed by her side. In this world, aside from the late emperor, no one knows her better than I do.”
He turned to glance at Chen Jinan’s still somewhat youthful face. “You may have spent the night serving her in her chambers, but nothing would ever happen.”
“Because everything she wants must be the best—and you, clearly, are not.”
