Chapter 58

Chu Shao extended her fingertips, lightly tracing Xiao Jin’s lips. Aside from the occasional sound of dripping water, no other noise echoed in the bath.

Yet she could hear an incredibly heavy, resounding tremor emanating from her ribs and chest.

Looking at Xiao Jin, Chu Shao raised her other hand, pressing it against her heart.

The suffocating feeling was nearly unavoidable. The lips touched by her fingertips were warm and soft, causing Chu Shao’s movements to pause for an instant.

However, this oppressive feeling gave rise to a hint of confusion.

Initially, everything Chu Shao did was purely driven by purpose, solely out of curiosity. Now that the mystery was solved, logically speaking, she should lose interest, finding it dull and tasteless.

But at this very moment, Chu Shao knew she was thoroughly enjoying this sense of oppression stemming from her heart.

This sensation was as heavy as a night watch drum, gradually spreading through the blood in her body over time, evolving into intermittent stabbing pain in her heart.

Yet Chu Shao’s smile remained unchanged.

Such pain was more unique than any sensation she had ever experienced.

Although Chu Shao still didn’t quite understand what principle this pleasure fundamentally stemmed from, she could faintly feel that her current excitement was utterly without reason.

Just like an infant cries at the sight of strangers and laughs at the sight of familiar people.

She looked at Xiao Jin, the trembling and pain in her heart arising from nowhere, unsure when it would end—a long, drawn-out torment.

After brief consideration, Chu Shao finally decided to follow her heart’s truest desire.

So she removed the finger resting on Xiao Jin’s lips and leaned closer to her.

Chu Shao’s eyelashes fluttered gently, not from shyness or fear, but from excitement.

This feeling was like a rising tide on the shore, stirring up snowy waves. The overwhelming seawater flooded over everything even remotely related to reason.

Although she knew Xiao Jin would eventually wake up, she parted her own lips and used them to touch Xiao Jin’s neck.

At the moment of touching that skin, Chu Shao wished for the day when Xiao Jin would never awaken.

The distance between them was very close. Chu Shao listened to the violent trembling within her chest and finally realized with absolute clarity: indeed, whatever she did, she had never needed any principle.

So wanting to draw closer to the person before her also required no superfluous reason.

After realizing this, Chu Shao threaded her fingers into Xiao Jin’s damp hair.

She slowly drew her lips near, trembling with anticipation, just like sipping the sweet, clear wine of the Commandery Governor’s mansion, and gently bit down on Xiao Jin’s neck.

The skin of the neck was cool, smooth, and delicate—the most vulnerable part of the human body. When kissed by lips, the sensation was almost like touching a smooth jade disc.

Chu Shao’s body trembled slightly; she surrendered her breath entirely to the other’s neck.

Although her breathing was warm and sluggish, her heartbeat was incomparably violent.

For a moment, Chu Shao could hardly distinguish whether what she craved was to erode that jade-like skin, or to drown in the enduring, persistent pain.

Her knuckles withdrew from Xiao Jin’s hair.

Chu Shao gently raised her hand and, smiling, gripped Xiao Jin’s neck.

She knew that as long as she killed Xiao Jin, she would surely obtain supreme pleasure. Because the more force her fingers exerted, the stronger the oppressive feeling in her heart grew.

Chu Shao enjoyed this pain immensely.

However, when she returned to reality, she was surprised to find her fingers were only loosely encircling Xiao Jin’s neck.

Not exerting a single trace of force.

This greatly surprised Chu Shao. Because it meant the pain spreading in her heart just now had only been a false illusion woven by herself.

She had imagined in her mind that she was strangling Xiao Jin.

Indeed, she had also made such a movement, only the force was very light.

Chu Shao lightly stroked Xiao Jin’s skin, lightly used her lips to kiss and peck, lightly threaded through her hair. Even the force of gripping her neck was a cheap, clichéd tenderness.

Such actions reminded Chu Shao of that row of dust-laden bronze chimes in the Great Yao Imperial Palace.

Of the old eunuch raising a wooden mallet and striking out rich, grand music under the sunlight.

Just what manner of clear, resonant jade-like sound that was, Chu Shao could no longer remember. She only recalled the old eunuch putting down the mallet, bending down to lead a young prince by the hand—his posture extremely respectful, extremely gentle.

Chu Shao lifted her head from Xiao Jin’s neck.

She stared at the crimson mark on the collarbone. Although no trace of blood had appeared, she felt extraordinarily delighted nonetheless.

Just why was this?

Chu Shao examined Xiao Jin carefully, observing that long, slender brow, the lashes dampened by mist. After observing for a long time, she still couldn’t quite figure it out.

Before, Xiao Jin was Xiao Jin, the Prince Yan of Qi.

Now, Xiao Jin was still Xiao Jin. Only, her title needed to be changed.

The Third Princess of Qi.

It sounded somewhat awkward to the ear.

Chu Shao found this title awkward, completely unaware that the smile rising on her own face grew increasingly gentle.

But before she could rein in her smile, in the next moment, she froze.

Because the Third Princess of Qi leaning against the edge of the bath furrowed her brows and slowly opened her eyes.

Xiao Jin thought a long time had already passed.

But when she noticed the water in the bath was still steaming, she understood that the flow of time within the memory fragment was probably different from the outside world.

Indeed. If they were the same, with her dwindling remaining lifespan, she should probably already be lying in a coffin.

Fortunately, everything was still fine.

Except for the extra Chu Shao who had appeared in the bath.

Looking at Chu Shao, Xiao Jin’s first reaction was to sink her body a little deeper, then came silence.

Silence. A long, protracted silence.

She felt as though she might still be living inside the memory fragment.

And the sort she couldn’t escape from.

Chu Shao had wanted to restrain the smile on her lips, but withdrawing it now would be a little too strange.

Of course, not withdrawing it was also quite strange.

The two met each other’s eyes, neither speaking. For a moment, the vast bath was so quiet it made one panic.

Ultimately, Xiao Jin was the first to break the silence. Because at this moment, she felt that as the proprietor of this bath, it was very necessary to ask—

“Princess Consort, what are you doing here?”

Perhaps because she had just woken up, Xiao Jin’s voice was hoarse and tinged with a hint of dampness.

Despite being an exceptionally cold timbre and a perfectly justified question, at this moment it seemed rather lacking in authority.

Hearing Xiao Jin’s words, Chu Shao pursed her lips, smiling. She actually countered with a question: “Can Your Highness not tell?”

Xiao Jin was speechless.

To be honest, she truly couldn’t tell.

Chu Shao looked at Xiao Jin, her voice gentle. “Assassins broke into the residence just now. This humble wife was deeply concerned for your safety, and thus boldly trespassed.”

Xiao Jin’s brows furrowed even tighter.

With a large contingent of guard troops stationed here, she found it very difficult to believe Chu Shao’s explanation.

So she asked, “Where are the assassins?”

Chu Shao smiled and replied, “Them? They’ve all been driven away by this humble wife.”

To encounter assassins and not kill them, but rather very amicably persuade them to leave—

This was clearly not Chu Shao’s style.

Xiao Jin didn’t believe her at all, and reasonably suspected that Chu Shao herself was the most likely assassin.

But what concerned her most right now was another matter. If Chu Shao had just entered, with the system’s Intelligence Reduction active, just a close look… shouldn’t have been enough to discover the truth, right?

As long as she hadn’t reached a dead end, Xiao Jin never minded substituting the worst reality with the most beautiful hopes.

As if knowing what Xiao Jin was thinking, Chu Shao smiled faintly and said softly, “Since there are no assassins here, then this humble wife won’t disturb your bath.”

Xiao Jin watched the smile appearing between Chu Shao’s brows, becoming even more disbelieving of her words.

However, when Chu Shao left the pool, she stirred up a splash of water. Looking up, the white robe clung tightly to her skin, outlining an exquisitely beautiful curve.

Just as Xiao Jin instinctively lowered her gaze, Chu Shao had already stepped out of the bath with a soft laugh.

Her toes imprinted a trail of water on the jade stones. Chu Shao bent down slightly and said to Xiao Jin with a smile, “This humble wife takes her leave first.”

Then, without sparing another glance at Xiao Jin’s expression, she left with extreme satisfaction, her departure proud and unrestrained.

For a long time after, the image of that curve and Chu Shao’s soaked robes still lingered in Xiao Jin’s mind.

With great difficulty, she drove this image from her brain.

Xiao Jin took a deep breath and was about to raise her head when she suddenly noticed, in the rippling water’s reflection, that several red marks seemed to have appeared on her own neck.

Squinting to look carefully, she realized they were kiss marks.

Xiao Jin froze. Then she looked at her lapels; they seemed slightly wrinkled.

“…”

In Xiao Jin’s heart, all hope instantly turned to ashes.

It was over. She had laid hands on her.

Chu Shao had definitely laid hands on her.