His body trembled slightly, and the large hand at the back of her head tightened threefold.

That night in the Eastern Palace’s inner chambers, he had discovered what a bold and daring nature lay beneath her proper and knowledgeable exterior. He also learned how alluring she was to him—merely imagining her lying on top of him was enough to make his blood boil.

Even more so in the present situation: her soft breasts pressed against his legs, her smooth cheek against his lower abdomen, her right hand—so skilled with brush and ink—now gripping him, and those fearless, clever red lips performing such an act upon him.

Since the Emperor ascended the throne at fourteen years of age, the country had been ruled by a woman for over thirty years. The customs throughout the nation had become increasingly liberal, with women able to study and hold official positions outside the home, and able to divorce their husbands and leave their households. Whether in inner chambers or public affairs, though not equal to men in all matters, their conduct and behavior were countless times more uninhibited compared to the previous hundred years of the former dynasty.

Even so, he had never imagined that she would know so clearly how to please him. His long fingers unconsciously threaded through her thick black hair, his fingertips gently caressing the base of her ear.

She lay prone, her eyelashes lowered, her tongue licking the corner of her mouth before pressing her lips together, making no further movement. Even the hand gripping him showed a trace of hesitation, merely turning her palm slightly before secretly glancing up at him.

After all, she was inexperienced. Despite her boldness and fearlessness, she didn’t know if what she was doing was right.

He caught her gaze and immediately understood. He reached over and forcefully pulled her body up, slowly embracing her.

A low moan escaped his lips, his chest growing hotter.

Her head was buried in the crook of his neck, turning her face to kiss him, her hand unconsciously teasing his sensitive areas. But after just a few movements, he suddenly flipped her over and pressed her down.

She gasped in surprise, then bit her lip and smiled, her two hands sliding up his chest to hook around his neck.

He reached behind her back and embraced her, his elbow supporting him on the ground. Half-lying on top of her like this, he lowered his head to kiss her earlobe and said hoarsely, “Don’t move.” After a pause, he added in a low voice, “…let me hold you.”

This utterance was so filled with affection and desire, this tone so soft and gentle, that it instantly scattered her soul, almost making her believe that he truly loved her.

Her red lips trembled, almost asking the question, but the words reached her teeth and could not be spoken.

It wasn’t that she feared his answer would not be what she wanted to hear, but that she feared his words would raise her hopes and excitement. How many words from an emperor truly come from the heart, and how could a minister wholeheartedly believe such words? Better to remain as they were now—she loved him, she adored him, and that was enough. No matter what happened in the future, she would not… hate him.

So she followed his words, stopped moving, and embraced him tightly, letting him hold her.

There was a small hollow in his right shoulder, next to a hard, thick callus. She recognized it as a mark left from years of archery practice, carrying a longbow and quiver. Her mind involuntarily recalled the scene at the Riding and Archery Hall in the Northern Gardens a year ago—his galloping on horseback, his vigorous and imposing manner, intimidating all officials and generals with his prowess.

It seemed as though in this world, as long as he existed, as long as he was present, nothing and no one could outshine him. And what woman would not fall for him?

Her lips touched his shoulder, her tongue brushing against that thick callus.

He let out a low gasp as if coming to his senses. With another forceful embrace, he turned her over, letting her lie on top of him again. One hand pressed against her back, while the other gently kneaded her body. He asked, “Who taught you all these tricks?”

His tone was deep, slow, and intoxicating—not like an accusation, but rather like flirtation.

She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips curling up slightly, and smiled, “Doesn’t Your Highness know that I am widely read?”

He brushed aside her long hair to see her face clearly and said softly, “Have you even read those lewd books?”

She nodded and said with pursed lips, “Has Your Highness not heard of that book ‘Bold Words’ circulating in the country these past few years? Its passages are exquisitely written. After I entered the court, I heard that the daughter of Inspector Liu from the Imperial Archives also praised this book.”

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly pondering, and after a while said, “I have read it too.”

Back when Shen Zhishu was still at the Imperial Academy, he loved to collect such books. Whether they were spring palace booklets, erotic writings, silk pouches with amorous designs, or peculiar toys, he would bring them into the palace privately to show him.

When she heard that he had also read it, she couldn’t help but bite her tongue and laugh. She raised her face close to his ear and said softly, “When I was at the women’s school in Chong Prefecture, I once explained the erotic terminology in that book to everyone.”

He looked at her with a slanted eyebrow and lowered eyes.

Her smile was radiant, her eyes as bright as water. The corner of her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered, “‘A bald marshal, a vertical-mouthed general; that marshal’s spear thrusts straight at the red heart with each thrust, this general’s sword only contains purple brain with each stroke…'”

These were extremely vulgar and obscene phrases, but coming from her, half serious and half teasing, in such a gentle voice and seductive manner, they stirred unusual emotions in him.

She continued, “At that time, the women in the school secretly passed this book around and excerpted the poems from it for private discussion…” Seeing him listening motionlessly, she kissed him once before laughing again, “Your humble servant understood it best.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

Though he knew she placed great importance on achievements, he didn’t expect that even in such matters she could be so self-satisfied. Looking at her bright eyes and upturned lips, he felt waves surging in his heart.

Never had a woman been so frank and undisguised before him, nor had any woman ever given him such wholehearted and sincere affection.

The smile on his face gradually spread, and he finally laughed aloud.

She stared at him, seeing his handsome face break into a smile, and was slightly stunned. After a while, she slowly reached out to touch his brow and eyes, murmuring, “Your Highness…”

He took the opportunity to kiss her, his large hands gently kneading her buttocks.

She allowed him to kiss and caress her, and after a while turned her face to breathe, then looked at him again. Seeing the smile still in his eyes, she was moved and said softly, “Your Highness looks so handsome when you smile.”

He smiled again, the creases at the corners of his mouth deep and shallow, his heterochromatic eyes half-closed, half-open, with a lazy, seductive expression. His hand caressed upward, cradling her face, then slid over her shoulder, two fingers lightly pinching her nipple.

She sighed with pleasure, lowering her head to rest on his chest, one leg wrapped around his waist. “Your Highness.”

His body still bore the marks where she had grabbed and pinched earlier, faint red spots printed on his tanned, muscular body, the color both seductive and stimulating.

Though not as fierce as before, his movements now were even more affectionate and passionate, doing everything possible to ignite the fire and heat within her.

But he merely caressed her like this, asking for nothing more, as if he were not the same man who had torn her official robe and ravaged her body earlier.

She closed her eyes slightly, understanding him even less.

He had always been a man of few words but many actions, with a heavy heart difficult to discern. It was not the first time she had angered him. If those earlier wild and reckless actions were to vent his anger, how could they give way to such gentleness now? She could feel his even more intense desire at this moment, yet did not understand why he stopped and did not proceed.

“Meng Tinghui,” he suddenly embraced her more tightly.

She didn’t open her eyes, only responding with a soft, “Your Highness.”

He kissed her forehead, his warm lips pressing against her brow, lingering for a long time, “I am good to you because I want to be.”