CXD - 87

Late into the night, two figures clad in thin undergarments lay side by side on the bed, silently staring at the ceiling above, lost in their own thoughts for a long while.

Jiang Zhiyi had never imagined that what should have been a night of tender intimacy would end up so… calm.

Earlier, she had reasoned that when he saw her undergarments, she had felt both shy and worried about whether they were presentable—perhaps he shared the same concerns now.

Though she had only glimpsed a small part and not the full picture, she thought it best to offer some praise and flatter him.

But instead of easing his nerves, her words seemed to make him even more uneasy, as if every step forward became a struggle.

Praise didn’t work? Did she somehow go wrong with her compliment?

Jiang Zhiyi mulled over where she might have gone astray. Vaguely recalling that there were annotations at the back of the book Sister Baojia had sent her, which she hadn’t dared to look at before, she quietly summoned Jingzhe while Yuan Ce bathed and asked her to bring the book Feng Yue .

Flipping through its pages, one glance made her blush furiously, while another brought sudden clarity. Eyes wide and mouth agape, she finally understood just how easily a man’s desires could be stirred—and if left unaddressed, the discomfort could become unbearable.

No wonder Yuan Ce had taken so long to compose himself in the bathing chamber, and upon emerging, maintained such a careful distance from her, like a river refusing to mingle with a well.

Lost in these thoughts, Jiang Zhiyi’s cheeks flushed repeatedly. After a long while, she finally mustered the courage to break the silence and ask if he was still feeling uncomfortable—

“You’re still…”

Yuan Ce: “I’m not.”

“…”

Jiang Zhiyi slowly turned her head to look at him. His chiseled profile was tense, his jawline sharp as if carved by an axe. Beneath the covers, his chest rose and fell faintly, like waves lapping against the shore.

“If you’re still uncomfortable…”

“I’m very…”

“Or perhaps I can help you.”

Yuan Ce’s response of “I’m fine” faltered midway, the final word hanging incomplete as a soft exhale. He abruptly turned his head toward her: “…Help me with what?”

Jiang Zhiyi pulled the blanket up to cover her face, leaving only her bright, round eyes peeking out at him. In a small voice, she said: “I hastily learned a new skill just now…”

“?”

“You know, there are many ways to alleviate discomfort, all leading to the same outcome. The simplest one…” Jiang Zhiyi extended her hand, wiggling her fingers, “…is using your hand.”

Staring at her delicate, pale fingers, Yuan Ce’s temple throbbed visibly.

Seeing him momentarily stunned, Jiang Zhiyi blinked earnestly, her gaze sincere: “You don’t know? Then let me help you—I’ve already learned…”

…If he didn’t know, how had he managed to get through the past six months?

Just as her snow-white hand slipped beneath the covers, Yuan Ce quickly turned his back to her, shutting his eyes tightly as he tried to calm the rising tide within him: “No need. I’m fine now.”

But then, after a moment of silence, a low mutter came from behind him: “It’s not entirely for your sake… I’m curious too…”

Yuan Ce opened his eyes, his scalp tingling as he froze stiffly on the bed.

The soft warmth of her body pressed against him from behind. Jiang Zhiyi leaned close to his ear, her breath hot against his skin, like the delicate scratch of a kitten’s paw against his heart: “Let me try, okay?”

A thunderous crash echoed in his mind. Yuan Ce opened his mouth but couldn’t bring himself to say “yes” or “no.”

Jiang Zhiyi took his silence as tacit permission. Propping herself up slightly, she slowly reached forward, her hand inching toward the hem of his trousers.

Yuan Ce remained motionless, as if meditating, feeling her hand cautiously explore, inch by inch, drawing closer to the taut string pulled to its limit in his mind.

The moment her fingertips brushed against him, Yuan Ce’s entire being shook violently. Summoning the last shred of willpower, he grabbed her wrist: “…It’s dirty.”

Jiang Zhiyi was startled by the sensation, her fingers trembling. Her eyes widened, and she held her breath, swallowing nervously before speaking with determination: “Brother Ce is the cleanest person in the world.”

The cool summer night breeze drifted through the gaps in the windows, entering the bedroom and causing the candlelight to flicker unsteadily.

The room gradually filled with a damp, sultry atmosphere. The suppressed gasps at first turned into unrestrained, almost predatory pants.

Yuan Ce lay flat on the bed, one hand beneath him, the other cradling the person in his arms. His jaw pressed tightly against the crown of her head.

Jiang Zhiyi half-collapsed onto Yuan Ce’s chest, her palm gripping the trouble she had sought out. He guided her hand, moving it back and forth under the covers. Her flushed face buried in the crook of his shoulder, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

Even if she opened her eyes, she wouldn’t be able to see anything beneath the covers—but still, she dared not lift her eyelids even a fraction.

She couldn’t remember when Yuan Ce, unable to endure any longer, had grabbed her hand with gritted teeth. What had started as light, hesitant movements had now become an overwhelming storm. After a while, her hand grew so sore it felt numb.

Truly, knowledge gained from books always feels shallow—only through practice did she realize how inadequate she was.

Hadn’t those instructions sounded simple enough? No one told her this would be so exhausting!

“Is it not time yet…?” Jiang Zhiyi’s voice, barely audible and tinged with tears, broke the silence.

Yuan Ce looked down at her, his throat bobbing as he struggled to breathe. “…You were the one who wanted to play. Is this all the patience you have?”

Her cheeks burned, her palms burned, and her entire body felt as though it might melt from the heat, drenched in sweat. The heavy breaths brushing against the top of her head sent shivers through her. With her free hand, she clutched the front of Yuan Ce’s robe, trembling faintly.

She felt his kisses rain down, tracing from her temple to her earlobe, then wandering along her neck.

Jiang Zhiyi shrank her shoulders instinctively, overwhelmed by the intimacy. In this entangled closeness, she felt like a fish on the verge of drowning.

The fierce storm threatened to uproot towering trees. The wind howled louder, the rain poured heavier—but just as it seemed the world would collapse, everything suddenly fell silent.

A sound, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, echoed above her. Jiang Zhiyi’s fingers froze, and she opened her eyes, dizzy and disoriented.

In the midst of endless tremors, Yuan Ce slowly lowered his gaze, seeing her lips parted in surprise. He leaned down and kissed her.

Half an hour later, Jiang Zhiyi sat on the bed, watching Yuan Ce, who had donned a casual robe, kneel by the bedside. He carefully wiped her freshly washed hands with a cloth, drying each finger one by one. As he worked, he occasionally glanced up at her.

Though he said nothing, his gaze seemed to carry a thousand unspoken words, tied together by invisible threads.

Jiang Zhiyi’s heart fluttered under his watchful eyes. She averted her gaze, only for her eyes to fall upon the murky water in the basin beneath the bed. Her pupils contracted, and she quickly looked away again.

After drying her fingers, Yuan Ce turned her hand over, gently rubbing her slightly reddened fingertips and pressing a kiss to the base of each finger.

Startled, Jiang Zhiyi swiftly pulled her hand back: “O-Okay, that’s enough. You go take care of yourself now.”

Yuan Ce raised his head to look at her: “You’re not going to bathe after sweating so much?”

“Jingzhe isn’t here. I can’t wash myself…”

“I’m not here?”

Jiang Zhiyi shook her head quickly: “…N-No, I won’t wash. Let’s just sleep like this.”

Yuan Ce studied her for a moment, then pushed himself up on his knees. Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead: “Then I’ll go clean up. I’ll be quick.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded calmly, pretending to be composed. But as soon as he stepped into the bathing chamber, she collapsed face-first into the soft bedding, overwhelmed.

After a while, something occurred to her, and she quietly lifted her hand to her nose, sniffing.

It should have been clean, but she couldn’t shake the lingering scent of him on her fingertips.

Though not particularly pleasant, the smell belonged to him—and instead of repulsion, her heart raced.

Jiang Zhiyi kicked her legs restlessly, pulling the quilt over her blazing red face.

Yuan Ce emerged from the bathing chamber after a quick rinse, spotting Jiang Zhiyi lying on her side on the bed, her back turned toward him. She appeared to be asleep.

He approached quietly, lifting the covers and slipping into bed beside her. Leaning down, he looked at her closely.

Her long lashes quivered beneath her closed eyes, like the wings of a startled butterfly.

Such a timid little thing, yet bold enough to play such a big game.

“Is my fiancée asleep?” Yuan Ce whispered teasingly into her ear.

Jiang Zhiyi, eyes still closed, nodded vigorously.

“Not going to hold her fiancé tonight?”

She nodded again.

“Discarded after use.” Yuan Ce lay back down, clicking his tongue lightly.

“When dawn breaks, there’ll be five months without holding me. Aren’t you even a little reluctant?”

“There are plenty of others in Chang’an—men richer than emperors, more handsome than Pan An, skilled in poetry, calligraphy, painting, music, and every art imaginable.”

“Besides, our marriage contract is in Chang’an. Who knows? You might meet someone new and decide to call off the engagement.”

…She had been quiet for only a few moments, and already he was talking about breaking off the engagement.

Jiang Zhiyi opened her eyes, turned around, and glared at him. She spread her arms wide: “Here! Hold me, hold me!”

Yuan Ce chuckled, pulling her into his arms. He gently ruffled her hair: “Stay safe in Chang’an. Wait for me to come and marry you.”