After the kiss and the confession, silence filled the room. The awkwardness thickened with each passing moment. Shangguan Ye basked in the warmth of the moment, while Murong Qiufeng was tormented by the embarrassment.
The sensation of his lips lingered, and the heat from their pressed bodies made her acutely aware of his warmth—and the undeniable tension that hadn’t yet subsided. Murong Qiufeng was suffocating in the awkwardness, too embarrassed to speak, while Shangguan Ye remained blissfully oblivious.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she broke the silence. “Can you… let me go now?”
Shangguan Ye rested his chin on her shoulder, his face nuzzling her neck with a playful smirk and a glint of mischief in his eyes. “But it feels so nice holding you. I could stay like this forever.”
Murong Qiufeng twitched the corner of her mouth, the movement reminding her of the blood wolf she’d encountered earlier. With a helpless sigh, she said, “Well, I’m not comfortable. My back… it’s cold.”
Only then did Shangguan Ye realize how cold the walls were. Outside, snow had already fallen, and the icy walls pressed against her back. Cursing his carelessness, he swiftly pulled her away from the cold surface.
Relieved by the distance, Murong Qiufeng exhaled a breath she’d been holding. But before she could fully relax, Shangguan Ye scooped her up into his arms. Her heart leaped.
“What… what are you doing?!”
“Relax,” he chuckled. “Until you say yes, I won’t devour you. It’s late; time to sleep.” With purposeful strides, he carried her toward the bed. Feeling her icy skin against his palm, his heart ached with guilt. He immediately channeled his inner energy to warm her chilled back.
Murong Qiufeng’s face turned crimson at his suggestive words. She opened her mouth to retort but ended up glaring at him instead.
Shangguan Ye’s eyes softened. Laying her on the bed, he leaned over her, palms planted on either side. “If you keep looking at me like that,” he teased, “I can’t guarantee we’ll wait until the wedding night. And technically, we’ve already completed the ceremony.”
Embarrassment flared into anger. Murong Qiufeng shoved him aside, turned away, and squeezed her eyes shut, determined to ignore the shameless scoundrel.
Shangguan Ye chuckled softly, clearly in high spirits. He lay beside her, propped on an elbow, and tucked the blanket around her while casually wrapping an arm around her waist.
Her body tensed. “I’m… I’m trying to sleep. Shouldn’t you head back to your own room?”
Leaning close, his breath brushed her ear. “I’m sleeping right here. If you can’t sleep, we could always find something… relaxing to do.” His tone was low, suggestive.
Murong Qiufeng shuddered and clamped her hands over her ears. Glaring at him, she opened her mouth to protest, only for him to steal another kiss.
“Mmmph…”
This kiss was different: wild and teasing. His hand slid to her waist, massaging the sensitive spot that made her go limp. Her mind blurred, reason slipping away.
With the last shred of clarity, she shoved him with all her strength. He nearly tumbled off the bed. Furious and flustered, she roared, “If you’re not here to sleep, then get out!”
Shangguan Ye froze, stunned. Her outburst was uncharacteristically fierce, her eyes blazing.
He stood slowly, running his tongue along his lower lip, tasting the spot she’d bitten. A wicked grin spread across his face. “You sure didn’t hold back. Or is that your way of marking your territory?”
Murong Qiufeng was livid, breathless. She rolled away from him, refusing to engage with his shamelessness. How had she never noticed his roguish nature before? If his soldiers saw him like this, they’d be traumatized.
Shangguan Ye chuckled, lying back down beside her. This time, he simply pulled her close. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Sleep now.”
Her lips twitched as she unconsciously licked the blood he’d left there. Feeling the steady warmth of his chest against her back, her breathing gradually steadied. Her expression remained complex, but the faint curve of her lips betrayed her true feelings.
Outside, on a nearby rooftop, two figures crouched in the snow: one in red, one in yellow. The man in red, Can Yang, clung to Qian Baihuan’s back, shoulders shaking with laughter. “D-Did you hear that? Our commander—such a scoundrel!”
Qian Baihuan smothered his own laugh but stiffened at Can Yang’s warm breath against his neck. The cold night air did nothing to dull the heat creeping up his spine.
Nearby, You Xiang sighed as she eavesdropped. “Master’s getting bolder,” she muttered. “Poor Murong Qiufeng won’t last much longer.” Yet, despite her words, a smile played on her lips. She liked this new, unpredictable side of Shangguan Ye. It made him feel more… human. And seeing her master find happiness, after so many years of cold solitude, warmed her heart.
But as she turned to signal the others, her gaze caught Qian Baihuan’s fleeting discomfort. Her smile sharpened. “Well, well,” she murmured to herself.
Far away, in the Imperial Court’s side hall, a disheveled woman lay unconscious on the crimson carpet: Noble Consort An Lanxin.
Drugged by You Xiang, she was lost in a dream of power and prestige. But as dawn broke, the aphrodisiac would take effect, and she would wake to a nightmare—stripped of dignity and hope.
Because, as You Xiang always said: “To taste the sweetness of a dream, only to wake in despair… that’s true suffering.”
Tonight, some dreams flourished while others crumbled. Who would wake smiling, and who would wake screaming? Only time would tell.
