AYM Chapter 51

Yan Yihuan had not cried so unrestrainedly in a long time, yet these tears were not pure ones. They had nothing to do with grief, nor with pain, but with that unfamiliar, irresistible ecstasy from which he could not escape.

 

The fine chain swayed with the rhythm, scattering glimmers of light, and the red plum standing proudly in the snow blossomed in the darkness with a beauty never seen before.

 

He did not know how much time had passed. The candles, long left unattended, had burned themselves away. Melted wax spilled wantonly, leaving the candlestick and even the desk mottled with wax, while the canopy within the chamber grew darker and darker.

 

Although Yan Yihuan had already lost his senses, the sounds and expressions he gave made clear it was unrestrained pleasure. Li Xuanming covered him with kisses, yet in the end received only a few shallow, unconscious hums in response.

 

“More obedient than imagined.” Li Xuanming gathered him into his arms and carried him toward the back of the room, where a door led straight to the bath. “Even I never expected you to like it this much. Looks like you’ll be willing to try everything in there, won’t you?”

 

“No answer?” Li Xuanming gave a light smile, lowering his head to kiss the still-flushed ear. “Then I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

This chamber had no windows, and by now the candles inside had long since burned out. Even the brazier was down to a faint scattering of embers, barely glowing, almost extinguished.

 

But the chill of the room had nothing to do with Yan Yihuan. Held tightly in that warm embrace, he slept soundly, exhausted yet peaceful. 

 

Li Xuanming’s words about being a “foolish king” had been spoken in jest, yet when the time for court approached, although the chamber lay in darkness, the steady, tranquil sound of breathing at his side made his heart calm. He could not bring himself to break this moment of quiet. 

 

A soft knock sounded at the door, followed by Shen Zhaoquan’s low call for the emperor, a reminder that he could delay no longer.

 

In the darkness, Li Xuanming frowned, as if steeling himself to rise, but the weight at his waist made him pause. Only then did he notice Yan Yihuan clinging to him with both arms and legs.

 

Li Xuanming half pushed himself up and gently stroked that arm. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to remove it. In the end, he lay back down, covering Yan Yihuan’s ear with one hand as he called out,

 

“Leave.”

 

When Yan Yihuan awoke and walked out, the sight of the sun already high toward noon struck him like a blot of lightning, leaving him dumbfounded. He never expected the emperor would actually skip morning court just because of their entanglement the night before. That was utterly outrageous!

 

Yan Yihuan could hardly imagine it. All the ministers waiting in the Golden Throne Hall with no one to hold court, and once they found out the emperor had spent the night in reckless indulgence with him, wouldn’t the “demon consort” title end up blamed on him!

 

Last night, when he first heard the term, he hadn’t thought much of it. But now the more he thought about it, the more fitting it seemed, and the more it frightened him.

 

That afternoon, in the imperial study, Yan Yihuan lay sprawled weakly over the desk, sneaking glances at the emperor, who was calmly writing away. Compared to his own dread, Li Xuanming looked far too composed.

 

Since ancient times, whether in history or in plays, no matter how wrong the emperor might be, whatever the cause, the blame always fell upon the so-called demon consort.

 

“Mm!”

 

Weighed down by unease, Yan Yihuan tried to sit up, when the faint rub of fabric against his chest brought a strange sensation, drawing a low gasp from his lips before he could stop it.

 

But the person writing simply paused, never lifting his head, as he continued writing.

 

Perhaps it had been instructed beforehand, for the whole day was unusually quiet. No ministers came one after another with affairs to discuss, no piles of memorials were sent in. The emperor said nothing, and Yan Yihuan was glad enough to idle there, lost in his own restless thoughts.

 

“Weren’t you worried yesterday about failing to submit your historical records? How come you’re sitting around doing nothing now.” He lowered his head again to continue writing, noticing how Yan Yihuan either lay slumped on the desk or drifted off in a daze, his whole demeanor listless.

 

“I’m already labelled as a demon consort. Even if I write it and hand it in, it’ll only give people more reason to mock me as a demon consort who’s ignorant and illiterate.”

 

Li Xuanming nearly lost his grip on the brush from laughing. He hadn’t expected him to accept the title of “demon consort” so readily. Setting his brush aside, he crooked a finger at him.

 

“Then come here, beloved consort.”

 

Hearing that form of address made Yan Yihuan’s scalp prickle, but he didn’t dare defy the “foolish king”. Using the excuse of his lingering discomfort, he deliberately moved as slowly as possible, dragging out the few short steps until they were almost a shuffle.

 

“What are Your Majesty’s orders?”

 

“Sit.”

 

When the emperor patted his own leg, Yan Yihuan first darted a glance at the tightly closed door of the study, then at the pile of memorials on the desk. At once, the hard, faintly cold sensation from last time rose vividly in his mind. He coughed lightly, face flushing red.

 

“Could we… leave this for tomorrow?”

 

“What nonsense are you imagining!”

 

Li Xuanming took hold of his wrist. Yan Yihuan startled, thinking it would pull at the sore spot, and was just about to cry out when instead a steady strength lifted him up and slowly set him down. He ended up sitting right in front of the emperor, drawn neatly into his arms.

 

“Take a look at this.”

 

This was the writing the Emperor had been furiously writing for most of the day. Was that something he was even allowed to see?

 

Yan Yihuan braced a hand on the desk, suddenly alert. This had to be a trap for the “demon consort.” Surely next would come some excuse about interfering in government affairs, then use that as grounds to wipe out the Yan family in one sweep.

 

At the thought, he quickly turned his head away and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. After so long in this scheming place, of course he could see through such tricks. Luckily, he reacted fast enough to prevent the emperor from succeeding.

 

After waiting a moment, feeling Yan Yihuan’s body stiff and unresponsive, Li Xuanming grew puzzled, unable to figure out what was going on with him. 

 

Looking from the side, he saw Yan Yihuan’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, his jawline taut with stubbornness. Li Xuanming couldn’t help but pinch his chin and turn his face forward.

 

“What are you doing? Open your eyes.”

 

This was too far. Was he really going to hold his head down and force him to look?

 

Yan Yihuan’s heart jolted in alarm. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that this must be something unspeakable. His head was already forced straight, but surely he couldn’t be made to open his eyes too.

 

All of a sudden, a broad palm pressed against his chest. Long fingers spread slowly over the fabric, as if they had eyes of their own, finding with precision the two points still standing firm. 

 

“Ah…”

 

It was as if he had been struck by lightning. That deliberate, simultaneous kneading could never be mistaken for an accidental touch. Yan Yihuan instantly grabbed at the teasing wrist, trying to pull it away, but the resistance only made it press harder.

 

His breathing turned sharp and hurried. At last his eyes could no longer stay shut, and he found himself staring straight at the papers spread open across the desk, nowhere else to look.

 

“This is… huh?”

 

Such a tempting sight left Li Xuanming struggling to restrain himself. His lips closed over the crimson ear lobe, words muffled as he murmured,

 

“Is what?”

 

“This… this is… the historical records!” Yan Yihuan curled in on himself under the assault, yet the shock could not be hidden. So that was why the emperor had summoned no one today, and why his pen had never stopped moving.

 

He had been writing the chronicles in his place!

 

Author’s note:

Li Xuanming: I’m serious about spoiling my wife.

Little Yihuan: The happiest thing in the world is having someone else do my homework!