Even with her mind not entirely clear, Hua Chun’s body reacted on reflex, her eyes flying wide open, both hands abruptly hooking around the Emperor’s neck, her whole body clinging tightly against him.
Water splashed everywhere, soaking the Emperor’s dragon robe through completely.
“You…” Hua Chun was so alarmed she nearly cried. “Why did you suddenly come in!”
“You were the one calling for help,” Yuwen Jie said calmly, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
The swell of her chest pressed firmly against the Emperor’s chest—she couldn’t let go, but couldn’t hold on either. Her face flushed crimson, her hands frozen stiff.
What was she supposed to do?! How could she possibly get out of this unscathed now?
A moment ago when she’d come out of the water, her mind had been a total blur, and she hadn’t managed to notice whether Yuwen Jie had seen anything. Now her whole body was pressed bare against him—it seemed she’d already been found out, hadn’t she…
But then, why was the Emperor so calm? Not the slightest hint of surprise!
Could she perhaps hope, however unlikely, that he’d simply been blind in that moment and seen nothing at all?
Her heart pounded rapidly, heavy and loud like thunder, and the pace seemed to be dragging Yuwen Jie’s own heartbeat along with it, quickening as well.
The Emperor stood as rigid as a utility pole, allowing her legs to wrap around his waist and her arms to clutch him tightly, making no move of his own, only saying, “Does the Chancellor not intend to come down?”
How was she supposed to come down! Hua Chun said with a tearful face, “Your Majesty, this servant is so cold—could you fetch me some clothing?”
“Cold?” the Emperor raised an eyebrow, still not moving, saying leisurely, “Your dear subject is burning up like fire—I was actually worried you were too hot. How could you be cold?”
“…I said I’m cold, so I’m cold!” Hua Chun gritted her teeth. “Please grant this servant some clothing!”
Yuwen Jie let out a low hum. “You certainly have some nerve.”
Speaking to the Emperor in such a tone—she really had been spoiled.
Hua Chun was genuinely on the verge of tears now, tears falling steadily, landing on the Emperor’s shoulder. “I want to wear clothes.”
“All right.”
Hearing the crying edge in her voice, the Emperor started slightly, reached over, and pulled the official robe hanging on the nearby screen, draping it over the shoulders of the person in his arms. “Such a small thing, and it’s worth crying over?”
Hua Chun hurriedly wrapped the official robe tight around herself, and the moment her hands loosened, the Emperor also let go, and her whole body pitched straight backward.
“Ahhh, hold on to me!”
Startled by her ringing cry, Yuwen Jie reflexively grabbed onto her waist.
The official robe was already soaked through with the water from her body, and her waist—so slender it could nearly be encircled by one hand—still carried a burning warmth.
The Emperor’s face flushed slightly. Having steadied her, he looked up. “Still not planning to come down?”
With something now wrapping her body, Hua Chun felt more at ease. The moment her nervous tension faded, the heat within her body surged up once more. Her legs, still wrapped around the Emperor, rubbed against him unconsciously.
Yuwen Jie’s face turned dark in an instant. “Chancellor Hua.”
“Mm?” Hua Chun looked at him with a hazy, unfocused gaze. “Does Your Majesty have some instruction?”
Muttering a low curse, the Emperor carried her, turned, and headed straight out from behind the screen.
“You brought this upon yourself!”
Hua Chun ought to have felt embarrassed, but this potent palace drug had a way of stripping away one’s very sense of reason along with everything else, in order to break down a consort’s inhibitions and grant the Emperor the finest of pleasures. So right now, calling her audacious in the extreme would not be an exaggeration—her mind simply couldn’t process what was happening, and she was already clinging shamelessly to the Emperor, rubbing against him.
The dragon bed was very comfortable—she’d tried it out once before—so the moment she touched down on it, she immediately released the Emperor and wriggled, wrapped in his official robe, into a comfortable position.
Yuwen Jie’s eyes darkened.
On the imperial-yellow dragon bed, the figure lay barely covered by the loose official robe, her face still damp from the hot spring, her hair slightly wet and scattered carelessly across the pillow, looking exceptionally soft and lovely.
Faced with a sight like this, if a man could still hold himself back, could he even be called a man?!
Leaning down over her, Yuwen Jie opened his mouth and bit down on the fair, slender neck that had appeared in his dreams so many times before.
“You said your name is Hua Chun.” His breath, scalding hot, spilled entirely against her ear as the Emperor’s voice dropped low and hoarse. “I think that name suits you very well right now.”
What he had suspected all along had finally been confirmed—confirmed now with warmth, with touch, with certainty.
Yuwen Jie smiled. So he wasn’t inclined toward men after all.
This smile was truly striking, but unfortunately, Hua Chun’s eyes were closed, and she missed it entirely.
“So hot…” she murmured softly, and as if pulling the official robe off her own body weren’t enough, she began tugging at the Emperor’s dragon robe as well.
Yuwen Jie’s patience held remarkably well. Suppressing the fire within, he simply watched her small hands flail about clumsily, working his robe loose.
The official robe of a court minister and the Emperor’s dragon robe tangled together—the contrast of colors striking, carrying an unexpected sort of beauty. The Emperor gazed at it for a good while before finally drawing his eyes back, looking down at the delectable little lamb beneath him.
She had delivered herself right to his door, after all.
Was she satisfied with just this? The Emperor raised an eyebrow in surprise—how remarkably easy to please.
She was satisfied, but he was not, and wanted to press further. Hua Chun instinctively reached out and pressed a hand against his chest.
The Emperor looked up and saw the thick haze in her eyes gradually beginning to clear, confusion still lingering there, but also a growing hint of doubt—it seemed she was beginning to wake.
Had the drug’s effect worn off so quickly?
Drawing in a sharp breath, Yuwen Jie also came back to his senses, striking one fist down onto the dragon bed, then grabbing her hand and pulling it to himself, to ease this boundless fire within him.
Damn it, he must have gone mad too—he’d meant to watch Hua Jinghua make a fool of herself, and yet without a shred of caution, he’d fallen right in alongside her!
Hua Jinghua was the Chancellor—male or female, the Chancellor remained the Chancellor. If he took her today, endless trouble would surely come swarming after him.
This Chancellor identity was more terrifying than an Empress.
What exactly was he thinking?
Reaching out to pull the official robe back up and wrap her in it, Yuwen Jie looked down at her, and still couldn’t help but kiss those soft, tender lips fiercely before finally pulling himself away, heading toward the hot spring.