Cui Wangshu frowned as she looked at Jiang Chenbi. The worry and fear on her face were laid bare before her eyes, stirring a sour ache in Cui Wangshu’s heart. The words of refusal rose to her lips but were swallowed back down.
Cui Wangshu indulged her. “Alright.”
In truth, she hadn’t wanted to agree. From their reunion up until noon that day, they hadn’t had a moment’s respite. Moreover, after discovering that Jiang Chenbi hadn’t been eating properly, she wanted to properly nourish her body. They really shouldn’t indulge in more passion.
Yet Jiang Chenbi looked so insecure, her expression so fragile, as if she might scatter into the wind by the railing at any moment.
Curfew was approaching, and time was short. Instead of returning to Cui Wangshu’s residence, they went to Jiang Chenbi’s nearest lodging.
Lying on the bed, Jiang Chenbi straddled Cui Wangshu. Through their lovemaking, she cried out all the sourness in her heart.
How could Cui Wangshu not know? This wasn’t her expression when she was truly happy.
But Cui Wangshu didn’t know how to give her a sense of security, so she could only go along with her, letting her do as she wished.
Tears still streaked the woman’s face, and before she had even recovered, she reached out to hug Cui Wangshu, her voice choked with sobs. “More…”
Cui Wangshu’s hand paused to the side as she stared dazedly at Jiang Chenbi’s face, where desire and fragility intertwined. She was clearly at her limit, yet she clung to her, begging for another round.
Cui Wangshu felt as if her heart had been torn open with a raw crack. In her gray, barren world, a dazzling light pierced through.
That beam of light barged into her heart recklessly, like a thief breaking in, illuminating her desolate and parched soul.
Her fingertips trembled as Cui Wangshu pulled Jiang Chenbi into her arms and kissed her fiercely, without restraint.
The obtuse Minister Cui had already been passionate in bed. Now that she had awakened to her feelings—stirred clear by Jiang Chenbi’s tears—what would she be like?
Jiang Chenbi only felt that tonight’s Cui Wangshu was exceptionally gentle, yet each movement carried a domineering possessiveness, as if her body no longer belonged to herself but to the person before her.
Her skin was kissed inch by inch—tender, cherished kisses.
Any possibility of distance or escape was severed. Unlike the teasing assistance of before, Cui Wangshu controlled Jiang Chenbi’s every move, pressing their bodies tightly together, refusing to let her pull away even a fraction.
At the height of passion, Cui Wangshu leaned over Jiang Chenbi, nipping her earlobe, and said word by word, “Mine…”
Jiang Chenbi writhed like a fish stranded on the shore, teetering on the edge of oblivion. Her fingertips left scratch marks down Cui Wangshu’s back.
…
Sunlight streamed into the room, rousing Jiang Chenbi from her dreams. She tried to move but found herself tightly bound in Cui Wangshu’s arms, the grip as if she might vanish otherwise.
Jiang Chenbi’s lips curved up. Her fingertip lightly tapped Cui Wangshu’s lips, a soft smile in her eyes.
Cui Wangshu frowned and woke from her dream. The first thing she saw was Jiang Chenbi’s breathtakingly beautiful face.
The little Lord Cui, who lacked full range of emotions, felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of her beloved.
Before she had understood her own feelings, she had only thought the person before her was beautiful. Now that she knew her heart, Cui Wangshu found that even a single extra glance at Jiang Chenbi made her pulse race.
Cui Wangshu’s lips curved. Her gaze was gentle, her voice even gentler. “Good morning, little lady.”
Jiang Chenbi pursed her lips, shyly leaning in for a light kiss on her lips before immediately getting up. “Get up quickly. The sun’s already high in the sky.”
Cui Wangshu’s lips held a smile as she watched her movements with interest.
The woman’s swift rise halted midway, and she got up slowly in an awkward position—lightly, carefully.
Cui Wangshu’s lips curved as she rose from the bed, rubbed her sore arm, scooped her up horizontally, and carried her to wash up.
She placed a cushion on the chair before gently setting Jiang Chenbi down and handing her a cup of water.
She was actually serving her to wash up.
Jiang Chenbi didn’t know that her crying the night before had jolted awake that heart clogged with lard, yanking out those budding threads of affection.
She only thought this person was considerate, knowing she’d been worn out from the night’s exertions.
Though a bit overwhelmed by the favor, she accepted it readily.
Who asked this person to be so excessive in the latter half of the night? Even after she’d said no more, she had persisted relentlessly until dawn.
Cui Wangshu didn’t know what was going through her mind. She only felt that serving Jiang Chenbi was the most natural thing, and it filled her with joy.
After washing up, Cui Wangshu said she wanted to apply medicine. Jiang Chenbi’s face flushed as she refused. “I don’t want it!”
Her refusal was ineffective.
Cui Wangshu held her down and applied the medicine, then helped her redress, as if raising a daughter.
Jiang Chenbi’s face was still red, a hint of annoyed embarrassment rising. “I’m not your daughter. What are you doing?”
It was fine if she didn’t say it, but once she did, Cui Wangshu stared at her, seemingly pondering if it could be done. She finally concluded, “I could raise you like a daughter, but you can’t be my actual daughter.”
Otherwise, how could she do those pleasurable things with her beloved?
Jiang Chenbi truly bristled now, pointing at Cui Wangshu and scolding, “Are you even human?”
Cui Wangshu grasped her finger and chuckled lightly. “Didn’t you say it yourself? I’m a beast.”
Jiang Chenbi pursed her lips and pulled her finger back. Why did she feel Cui Wangshu was so off today—like a peacock fanning its tail, all flirtatious flair?
Even after the railing incident yesterday, now that she understood her feelings, Cui Wangshu had no intention of telling Jiang Chenbi.
There were still many unresolved matters between them. Anyway, they had plenty of time ahead, so Cui Wangshu wasn’t in a hurry.
She even felt a strange thrill in secretly liking Jiang Chenbi while she remained unaware—an illicit excitement.
Jiang Chenbi asked, “Are you going back or not? What about your official duties?”
Cui Wangshu stared at Jiang Chenbi, feigning regret. “I have to go back. I haven’t had time to handle them properly these past couple of days.”
As for why… well…
Cui Wangshu suddenly felt reluctant to leave. Thinking of Jiang Ci’s words about “the ruler skipping morning court,” a sudden impulse surged.
But remembering that only by swiftly ascending to that high position could she truly be with Jiang Chenbi gave her renewed drive.
This residence of Jiang Chenbi’s was where she stayed when she occasionally didn’t return to the temporary palace. Though not often used, servants kept it clean.
The servants didn’t know Cui Wangshu’s identity, and the noise from last night had been loud—they had certainly heard.
Under the servants’ cautious, curious gazes, Cui Wangshu sat calmly at the table for breakfast.
She hadn’t planned to eat here, but worried Jiang Chenbi wouldn’t eat, she stayed to accompany her. She watched her take a few more bites of vegetables before letting her go when she truly couldn’t eat more.
Back at her residence, Cui Wangshu sat at her desk but couldn’t focus on the words.
Jiang Chenbi’s face seemed to appear in her mind unbidden. Looking at the strategy document, she saw her own handwriting: “Luozhou is situated upstream on the Luo River.”
That single “Jiang” character made Cui Wangshu’s lips curve upward as she mentally savored “Jiang Chenbi” over and over.
Before, she could casually set aside anything related to Jiang Chenbi without affecting her work.
But now, her gaze skipped to another line: “The Myriad Nations Conference should fully showcase Great Zhao’s national strength to awe and win over other nations.”
That “win over” pulled her thoughts back to Jiang Chenbi—had she worked hard to win over the powerful ministers back then…?
Taking a deep breath, Cui Wangshu tried to banish Jiang Chenbi from her mind, only to find herself smiling unconsciously at the thought of that beautiful face.
Cui Wangshu: “…”
Struggling proved futile. Once she realized she couldn’t stop thinking of Jiang Chenbi, she simply gave in and indulged fully.
She thought of her smiling eyes, curved like morning sun on fresh snow, and her little fangs when she bit—like an irked cat.
Cui Wangshu’s lips curved in a smile as she relished the memories thoroughly—from the imperial mausoleum, Liu Baizi Bend, to their days and nights back in the capital.
And that vague, lingering entanglement in Tongzhou.
Then Luozhou…
Thinking of everything since their reunion in Luozhou, Cui Wangshu’s smile widened. She looked nothing like her usual aloof, otherworldly fairy.
She was utterly a lovestruck girl, her eyes full of longing for her beloved and sweet reminiscence.
Completely smitten.
After who knew how long, Cui Wangshu finally let out a long breath. Having thought her fill, she could finally focus on work.
She lowered her head and saw that “Jiang” character again.
Cui Wangshu: “…”
…
After Cui Wangshu left, Jiang Chenbi rested a bit before heading to Yellow Path Palace. Upon arrival, she met Ying Lan’s accusing gaze.
Thinking of yesterday, Jiang Chenbi rarely felt guilty and touched her nose. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Ying Lan looked aggrieved. The taboo thrill of learning about Jiang Chenbi and Cui Wangshu’s relationship had faded, replaced by resentment toward Cui Wangshu for constantly whisking away the Palace Lord.
Since Cui Wangshu arrived in Luozhou, she felt she hadn’t seen the Palace Lord in ages. She was either at Cui Wangshu’s residence or off meeting her somewhere privately.
The Palace Lord’s duties at Yellow Path Palace were neglected; all she thought about was that Minister Cui.
Ying Lan grumbled resentfully, “Palace Lord, when you just run off without a word like that, your subordinate worries!”
Though Jiang Chenbi presented as “Miss Qian” to the outside world, that didn’t mean she was safe.
Whether as “Miss Qian,” “Young Sect Master of Poison Gu Sect,” or “Palace Lord of Yellow Path Palace,” countless people wanted her dead.
Jiang Chenbi knew she was at fault for running off without a word yesterday and coaxed, “Alright, alright. See? I’m fine. Besides, with A-Wan by my side, who could hurt me?”
Ying Lan knew Cui Wangshu was highly skilled in martial arts, but could one person match their entire shadow organization?
For her “trysts” with Cui Wangshu, the Palace Lord hadn’t even let the guard team follow. Yesterday, after handling chamber of commerce matters, Ying Lan had learned this and nearly fumed.
Ying Lan wanted to say more but feared upsetting Jiang Chenbi, so she said, “In the future, your subordinate will arrange for chamber matters to be delegated and provide close protection.”
She paused, then added, “If you don’t want us near, we’ll protect from afar without disturbing you.”
It had only been a spur-of-the-moment decision yesterday; Jiang Chenbi hadn’t planned to dismiss the guards entirely. “Fine, you can follow me then.”
Ying Lan’s furrowed brow relaxed. She mentioned another matter. “Palace Lord, Big Sister sent a letter. It’s one the Young Master wrote to you—about the Human-Face Gu Poison and Phantom Woman Valley.”
