hat else do I need you to do?” Li Xuanming pretended not to understand, “Compile records?”
“No, just… just… sigh!”
Yan Yihuan truly had been longing for it. Their distance these few days had weighed heavily on his heart like a giant stone. But it wasn’t just in his heart. From the tips of his hair to the ends of his fingers, he craved it. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he had wanted it for a long time.
He didn’t believe the emperor didn’t want it.
Yan Yihuan stared intently at Li Xuanming, who was leaning against the headboard, his cheeks flushed, his gaze burning. If Li Xuanming continued pretending not to understand, it would become boring.
Although the assassination attempt still had no clues, leaving him somewhat uneasy, Yan Yihuan’s proactive demeanor was far too alluring. He glanced sideways at his own injury. It wasn’t serious, but it would definitely hinder things. He wanted to see just how far Yan Yihuan would go.
“Want it?”
Yan Yihuan nodded, a hint of eager anticipation in his eyes,
“Your Majesty, you’re injured, so… could you just leave everything to me?”
Despite his lack of understanding of love, this had thoroughly attracted him. Fine, at least there was still one thing that could keep him tied down. At this moment, Li Xuanming even wondered whether, if he didn’t satisfy him, he might go find someone else.
“I’m injured. Did you ever even ask how serious it was?” Although Yan Yihuan’s attentiveness had already shown his concern, he just hadn’t said the words, which left Li Xuanming feeling quite upset.
At first he had been too frightened to think of it, and later when he wanted to ask, Imperial Physician Sun had already said the injury wasn’t serious. Besides, he saw it every day and knew exactly how it was, so he hadn’t expected the emperor to care about this.
“Then, Your Majesty, how is your injury?” Knowing he was in the wrong, Yan Yihuan corrected himself immediately. Now, in front of Li Xuanming, he was extremely obedient, doing whatever he was told.
Hearing this, Li Xuanming instead felt a surge of frustration rise to his chest. He didn’t even know where to vent it, yet the very person who caused it was still looking at him eagerly, completely unaware.
Forget it. Li Xuanming silently swallowed his irritation and gave a glance toward the bedroom doors.
Understanding at once, Yan Yihuan felt a burst of excitement. The emperor was injured yet still willing to be close to him, which meant he could still use this way to please him. At last, he had a bit of confidence.
Barefoot, he ran outside the bedchamber and carefully instructed the attendants at the door not to enter, then locked it tightly. Returning to the couch, Yan Yihuan smiled like a cat that had stolen cream, carefully undoing the ties of Li Xuanming’s clothing one by one, unable to resist placing his hand against the firm chest beneath.
His hand was warm, yet not as warm as the solid skin under his palm. Yan Yihuan’s heart trembled, and he almost let out a sound. His thoughts began to wander, and he momentarily forgot his purpose.
“Have you touched enough?” Li Xuanming lowered his head, looking at the hands lingering on him, his expression somewhat helpless, “What else can you do?”
Yan Yihuan froze for a moment, then smiled shyly. His gaze followed his hands downwards as the ties slipped through his fingers. He stared for quite a while. A blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, unwilling to be outdone as it spread across every inch of his pale skin. Before long, his whole body was flushed pink.
As his Adam’s apple bobbed, Yan Yihuan licked his slightly parted lips and leaned down. His unbound hair slipped across his face, concealing the springlike allure in his eyes.
The streets of the capital were as lively as ever. After crossing Jade Belt River, Ming Zhang called for the sedan chair to halt. Under the surprised gazes of his attendants, he draped an outer robe over his official attire to conceal it and walked alone into the crowd. His posture remained upright and refined, but his slightly lowered eyes carried a trace of indescribable loneliness and gloom.
He had already left the palace, but in truth, the capital’s morning had only just begun. The street vendors had just set up their stalls, and everyone’s face radiated enthusiasm for the new day. At a bun stall, the lid of a steamer was lifted, and a burst of white steam spread outward, just enough to envelop Ming Zhang within it.
The aroma rushed into his nose, snapping Ming Zhang out of his thoughts. The vendor smiled and said, “My apologies, I didn’t notice you. Did the steam bother you?”
“It’s fine.” Ming Zhang waved his hand, dispersing the thin mist before his eyes. Looking at the plump white buns, he found himself tempted, “Give me…”
As he spoke while reaching for his money pouch, his expression suddenly changed. A child quickly disappeared into the crowd, carrying his pouch in hand.
“Aiya! It’s that little rascal!” the vendor exclaimed, slapping his thigh in frustration. “Young master, hurry and chase him!”
A familiar figure suddenly appeared, quickly giving chase to the thief. Ming Zhang’s brows twitched slightly. After his initial surprise faded, he smiled at the vendor and said, “Please pack four buns.”
“Huh?” The vendor was taken aback, thinking that this young man had just had his money stolen, so how would he pay? But seeing his fine clothes and striking appearance, he didn’t seem like someone who would cheat him out of a few buns. After a moment’s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and packed the buns anyway.
Ming Zhang took them, immediately pulled one out, and bit into it as if he couldn’t wait, savoring the rich meat filling with satisfaction. Then, as expected, he saw that familiar figure from earlier walking toward him.
“Following me this early in the morning, you must not have had breakfast yet.” Ming Zhang handed over a bun. “Commander Han has worked hard.”
Han Zhen frowned, but still took the bun that Ming Zhang had pressed into his hand. After Ming Zhang paid for the buns and put his pouch away again, he said to Han Zhen, “Come on. Let’s find a quiet place to talk.”
Han Zhen nodded. He had thought Ming Zhang would choose somewhere like a teahouse, but instead he headed straight toward the canal, finally sitting casually on a stone beneath a willow by the riverbank.
The summer heat hadn’t yet arrived, and the cool breeze was especially pleasant. The river now showed no trace of the night’s clamor. With no one around, it was indeed a very quiet place.
“I’m not full. Give me another one.” Ming Zhang reached into the paper bag and took another bun. “It’ll get cold if you don’t eat it.”
Han Zhen silently watched Ming Zhang’s back. Such a fine person, even eating buns by the roadside, was pleasing to the eye. He hesitated to speak, unwilling to disturb this moment of calm.
Perhaps he was being a little too carefree, the dark red official robe showed slightly from beneath the hem. Han Zhen restrained the urge to step forward and cover it for him. Lowering his gaze to the paper in his hand, he picked up a bun and took a bite.
“Keeping everything bottled up like a mute gourd, doesn’t it feel uncomfortable?” Ming Zhang finished eating first, looking out at the merchant ships passing in the distance as he suddenly spoke. Although he was asking Han Zhen, knowing him too well, Ming Zhang did not expect an answer and continued, “Was it the emperor who told you to follow me, or did you come on your own?”
Han Zhen’s movements slowed. He swallowed a bite of the bun before replying, “On my own.”
“You sensed something was off?” Ming Zhang stood up, turned around, and met those deep eyes directly, without the slightest trace of panic, “Speak plainly.”
“Lord Ming.” Han Zhen met his gaze just as steadily. “Why did you suddenly withdraw half of the shadow guards last night?”
“The affairs of my Youluo Jian are none of your business.”
“But His Majesty encountered an assassination attempt yesterday. If half the guards hadn’t been withdrawn, he wouldn’t have been injured!”
The atmosphere between them instantly turned tense. Han Zhen’s presence surged, the pressure of a skilled fighter making Ming Zhang’s lashes tremble slightly. He took a subtle half-step back, yet in the next moment stood firm again.
“How would I have known the emperor would suddenly leave the palace? Besides…” A trace of ruthlessness flashed in Ming Zhang’s eyes. “Wasn’t it you who reported back to the palace about Yan Yihuan’s trip to Jinliu Alley?”
