Chapter 50: The Seductive Shadowy National Advisor Part 2

Intending to see what schemes this intruder had, Lu Yihuan didn’t open her eyes or get up, keeping her breathing steady and long.

Until the door creaked open and that familiar fragrance wafted toward her.

Then Lu Yihuan knew Jiang Li had come to see her.

Only a faint candle flickered in the room, casting soft light. In its dim glow, Jiang Li made out Lu Yihuan lying quietly on the bed, apparently asleep.

Her chest rose and fell subtly; one exposed hand rested obediently at her waist.

Jiang Li held her breath involuntarily, afraid of waking her. She tiptoed closer, each step lighter than the last.

The fragrance drifted nearer, gradually filling her nostrils. Lu Yihuan relaxed, letting Jiang Li approach. Because it was Jiang Li, it was fine.

After scrutinizing her face and body closely—having 123 scan since she couldn’t see clearly—Jiang Li confirmed there was only a wound on her chest and relaxed.

But since she was asleep… Jiang Li eyed the ribbon in her hand, troubled. What if she accidentally woke her? That wouldn’t be good.

Moreover, a flush crept over Jiang Li’s face. Blindfolding Lu Yihuan while she slept and saying those words felt so weird…

Lu Yihuan’s breaths came steady, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Those eyes, usually twinkling with smiles, now lay demurely closed.

【She’s not asleep. She’s awake, just not opening her eyes.】

Awake?!

Jiang Li leaned in slightly to inspect closer. From every angle, the woman before her looked sweetly slumbering, not a hint of wakefulness.

But knowing she was awake lifted the strange feeling from Jiang Li’s heart about blindfolding her.

If she was awake, then hurry up, get it done, complete the task, and let the injured woman rest.

The fragrance suddenly intensified. Lu Yihuan’s hand clenched under the covers, her once-calm heartbeat quickening with the scent’s approach.

Would Her Highness kiss her…

The fragrance hovered close for a long moment, yet nothing happened.

Eyes closed, Lu Yihuan couldn’t see the woman’s movements—only sense how near that scent was, tantalizingly so, doing nothing more.

Impatient, her hand gripped the bedding beneath her. Just as Lu Yihuan worried Jiang Li might leave and considered opening her eyes, the figure at bedside stirred.

Jiang Li had finally figured out how to securely tie the ribbon over Lu Yihuan’s eyes.

Smooth silk conformed gently to skin, its light touch settling over her eyelids. Lu Yihuan’s heart skipped—what was Her Highness doing?

Someone gently cradled her head in their arms, the ribbon looping around the back of her neck and tying a firm knot. Lu Yihuan felt the body pressing lightly against her face and sniffed subtly.

Then she was slowly laid back down.

Lu Yihuan stayed still, quietly waiting to see what else Jiang Li would do.

Phew… this feels so strange!

The sight of Lu Yihuan lying there, eyes covered by the silk ribbon, only her pale lips and high nose tip exposed—her usually lean cheeks now appearing so wan and weak—made Jiang Li’s ear tips turn red.

This fragile look only made what she was doing seem all the dirtier. Sneaking into Lu Yihuan’s room after her injury to blindfold her eyes…

She’d just thought it was better that Lu Yihuan was awake. Now, belatedly, Jiang Li wished she’d stayed asleep.

Lu Yihuan keenly felt the blindfold over her eyes, keenly sensed everything around her.

Yet she stubbornly kept her eyes shut.

Jiang Li couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman was up to no good—maybe even guessing her identity again.

After dealing with her for so long, Jiang Li knew Lu Yihuan a little. She was lively only toward her; otherwise, her demeanor was quite aloof.

So now—awake but not opening her eyes to chase the intruder out—she must know who it was and was waiting to see what she’d do.

Jiang Li sighed, but she still had to complete her task.

Night’s curtain had long since fallen, the room’s faint candlelight wrapping it in serene quiet. Heartbeats echoed softly in the stillness.

A still hand was lifted. Slippery, tender fingertips slipped between her fingers. Lu Yihuan thought: so soft.

Each pad was softer than the gentlest breeze she’d ever felt, tempting endless caresses to savor that silken texture.

Even smoother than the ribbon over her eyes.

Their hands clasped slowly tight.

Jiang Li lowered her gaze to the woman inches away—eyes hidden by silk, cheeks soft and pale, adding a fragile air unlike her usual self.

It stirred pity in her heart.

Her gaze upon that face was tender and caring, like fragrant soft cotton enveloping one, inviting nothing but comfort.

Fingertips gently stroked the back of her hand; that soft gaze soothed her little schemes. Lu Yihuan lay content, awaiting Jiang Li’s next move.

Then came a moist, warm, trembling kiss, breathing heat.

Lu Yihuan’s hand balled into a fist beneath the covers, nails digging into her palm’s soft flesh. Beneath Jiang Li’s chest, her once-even breaths grew disordered.

Straining to still her quivering lashes, Lu Yihuan hadn’t expected Jiang Li to kiss her eyes through the silk.

Like a devout believer before a deity.

In the night’s hush, all the daytime longings for the divine manifested.

Lu Yihuan steadied her breathing, not wanting to shatter this sudden delight. She lay still as hair by her ear was gently smoothed.

A voice both strange and familiar spoke joyfully at her ear. “Does my lord like this? In your world now, you can only sense my presence.”

She whispered it right against her earbone—woman’s voice soft, the endearment striking straight to the heart, melting limbs into laxness.

Her heart thundered. Lu Yihuan faltered from the person, from the words; her breath utterly lost rhythm, her composure shattered.

Her ragged breaths stood out starkly in the quiet. Lu Yihuan heard the woman’s light laugh, as if she’d known all along she was awake.

Her eyes trembled open beneath the blindfold—pure white filled her vision; she couldn’t see the woman’s face.

Lu Yihuan didn’t know what clothes the woman wore today or her identity. All she knew was the woman’s lips still pressed to her lashes.

Warm, sweetly scented—familiar her.

Lu Yihuan hadn’t expected the woman to sneak a light kiss upon arriving. Fireworks burst in her heart, pounding fiercely.

Her desires never sated, having gotten the words from Jiang Li, Lu Yihuan greedily lifted her gaze toward the woman and murmured, “Not enough… this isn’t enough yet.”

Oh no…

Jiang Li pulled back slightly. In the room’s weak lamplight, she peered at Lu Yihuan from close range.

So close she felt the breath from her words, tickling. Just a small shift, and she saw the pale lips parting to reveal a slightly upturned tongue, along with a neck so fragile it seemed it might snap with a pinch.

Injured and fragile, Lu Yihuan gave Jiang Li an illusion—that she was something in her palm.

A possession to toy with at will, to manipulate as she pleased—to do with Lu Yihuan whatever she wanted.

The moment that thought arose, Jiang Li jerked her body back. Her face flushed crimson; she dared not look at Lu Yihuan anymore.

She started to release her hand to leave, but Lu Yihuan grabbed it in turn, yanking her close and propping herself up against the bedframe. Though puzzled, Jiang Li instinctively reached out to steady her slow movements.

Once sitting upright, Lu Yihuan exhaled and tilted her head slightly. “The wound on my chest hurts a bit. Take a look?”

At those words, Jiang Li halted her retreat, extended her hand swiftly, and flung back the covers. Lu Yihuan’s loose resting robes parted easily.

Without thinking, Jiang Li pulled open Lu Yihuan’s robes to inspect the bandaging over her chest. Seeing no blood seeping through, she sighed in relief.

Gazing at Lu Yihuan, still blindfolded by her handiwork, Jiang Li replied, “It’s fine—no bleeding from the wound. Rest well.”

“But it hurts.”

Of course healing wounds hurt.

Jiang Li wanted to say something comforting, but when she looked at Lu Yihuan again, the words stuck in her throat.

Her robes half-undone, bandages over her chest—perhaps for recovery while resting, Lu Yihuan wore no dudou underneath. Everything lay bare.

Lu Yihuan seemed unconcerned about the silk over her eyes. Jiang Li had put it there, so she left it without removing it herself.

The glossy white silk draped her face; her lip corners quivered faintly from the pain, making her seem all the more pitiable.

The mighty made frail stirred desire.

“So?”

Jiang Li’s voice shook as she asked. Her heart already knew the answer might not bode well, but seeing Lu Yihuan clutching her sleeve to keep her from leaving softened it.

“Touch me. If you stroke it, it won’t hurt anymore.”

Lu Yihuan’s voice was feather-light, as if innocently calling out ordinary pain. To Jiang Li’s ears, it felt like the woman silently luring her to fall.

Knowing it was deliberate, still—Jiang Li stared at the faintly hooked lips, warm breath fanning her cheek.

Like a siren’s lure underwater: the deliberately flipped tail a hook, her exotic scent the bait, determined to drag the gazing admirer into her embrace.

The final strike from the siren herself.

Jiang Li’s hand was lifted, placed on that oh-so-familiar spot.

Fingertips needed only press lightly to sink into inconceivable softness. Beneath her palm, the little thing she’d once bitten seemed to sense her arrival and slowly rouse.

Blindfolded, Lu Yihuan couldn’t see the other’s face but felt the hand she held still stiff, struggling against her net.

Yet Lu Yihuan arched her neck slightly, offering her long, fragile throat before Jiang Li. Her net would not return empty.

“Your Highness, please have mercy.”

Her fragile yet craving appearance, the utmost softness beneath her hand—it captured the prey in her heart.

Jiang Li thought: I’m done for.

The hand placed there began to press on its own. Igniting desire needed but the tiniest spark to blaze into wildfire.

“My lord.” Jiang Li straddled Lu Yihuan’s waist, pushing her robes aside with one hand. The other danced around the cherry peak without touching, whispering lowly. “Do you know who’s caressing you now?”

“Your Highness… mm, it’s my Highness.”

The snow-white slender neck stretched longer backward from pleasure, thudding softly. Jiang Li heard it, undid her own robes, and pulled Lu Yihuan’s neck toward her.

Sounds like it hurt.

Jiang Li drew her into her embrace, leaning down as Lu Yihuan unhesitatingly untied her sash.

“No, I’m not.” Licking Lu Yihuan’s earlobe, Jiang Li followed the thought pounding in her heart, deliberately grazing the cherry hard with her fingertip. Murmuring by her ear, “I’m Li Ji.”

Not the Highness in Lu Yihuan’s heart—at this moment, wearing Li Ji’s face, doing this with her.

Would Lu Yihuan ever suspect the woman upon her…

“The one coupling with my lord is me. The one stroking my lord’s tender, full body now—is also me.”

Lips and tongue unrelenting, Jiang Li lightly tugged Lu Yihuan’s hair, leisurely letting her wicked thoughts bubble up—and voicing them to her.

“I’m Li Ji. I’m not your Highness.”

“Do you like her? Do you like me? In your heart, which one’s the best?”

The scent in her nostrils was unmistakably real, yet the woman’s earnest question rang in Lu Yihuan’s ear. The fingers toying atop the cherry bounced like playing ball.

Another smack; a muffled groan escaped. Jiang Li leaned to her ear, seemingly curious.

“Is it me who’ll make you feel good, or her?”