Yun Jichu was firm in her attitude, allowing no refusal.
Helian Jin naturally went along with her.
He sat within the bed curtains, waiting for her to finish bathing.
Steam gradually rose in the bathhouse as wisps of fragrance slipped out through the gap beneath the door.
The night breeze carried it drifting into the bedchamber.
The bed stood some distance from the bathhouse, so the scent was faint and gentle, elusive and hazy.
Ah Chu was bathing.
Helian Jin gripped the bed curtain, and the soft rustle of gauzy fabric in the room fell abruptly still.
Only then did he clearly hear the patter of water.
Ah Chu loved flower petals.
She had told him that soaking in a tub adrift with petals felt leisurely, like a vacation.
Helian Jin understood her notion of vacation simply as rest.
He had no idea what flowers she was bathing in tonight.
Helian Jin held his breath, then inhaled slowly.
Jasmine.
Wicked thoughts surged within him.
Helian Jin lay back slowly, forcing himself not to savor the misty, damp fragrance permeating the air.
Yet the harder he restrained himself, the sharper the images burned in his mind.
Ah Chu’s skin was exceedingly fair.
She had explained that she preferred staying indoors and seldom faced the sun even a few times a year, so she never tanned.
A scar marred her left arm.
She had said it came from a carriage mishap and even laughed as she asked if it was unsightly.
He had taken that scar between his lips, tracing its delicate lines with the tip of his tongue.
It was not unsightly—like the veins of a petal etched upon her flesh.
Ah Chu rarely spoke with others.
She had confided that for a time she had suddenly gone mute, and when she regained her voice, she found no one around worth talking to. In time, she had grown taciturn. She had laughed and asked if he found her dull.
He had pored over her paintings of elegant landscapes, flowers, birds, fish, and insects, replying only that silence held more beauty than words.
Ah Chu cherished all things beautiful.
Back in the Prince’s Mansion, she had adored the lovely vistas, the exquisite cuisine, the pretty dresses, the precious jewels—and him, whom she called a feast for the eyes.
For a spell, he had studied his reflection in the mirror again and again, grateful for his handsome features.
Ah Chu herself was breathtaking.
When she sat painting in quiet focus, her hair falling obediently beside her ear, her face might seem expressionless, yet it held no dull vacancy—only refined spirit, like a startled swan or a soaring dragon, her features radiant with life.
Strolling the sights with him, she laughed with unrestrained joy, pouted with endearing charm; her every vivid expression, every smile and frown, haunted his midnight dreams and left him tossing in remembrance long after.
He had once sighed that Heaven, pitying his turbulent youth, had sent Ah Chu to accompany him through the years.
Little had he known those words would prove prophetic.
To this day, he knew little of Ah Chu’s true movements and had never pried.
It was only in Fengluan Palace, when she vanished from before his eyes, that realization struck him: why he had always sensed an unspoken barrier between them.
The perfect harmony and lifelong union he had imagined might have been merely a fleeting interlude in Ah Chu’s sojourn among mortals.
Thus, Ah Chu did not love him.
She merely liked him, simply and purely.
She had come from realms beyond, to keep him company for a time.
He ought to have been content.
Yet greed took hold of him.
He did not know when she might depart again—or for how long.
Perhaps she would never return.
After all, beauty faded with time, and love slackened as allure waned.
A searing pain welled in Helian Jin’s heart, a hundredfold fiercer than any of his prior headaches.
He could deploy armies to conquer distant lands and claim victory from afar; he could raise children with meticulous care and shield them close; he could govern the realm with tireless vigilance, laboring from dusk till dawn.
But if Ah Chu wished to leave…
He was utterly helpless.
He dared not ask where she had gone those past days, for ignorance let him pretend nothing had changed.
Each morning he awoke to see her and could exhale in relief, shoving down the dread gnawing at him.
He felt like a man cramped beneath the vast sky and over the boundless earth.
To win Ah Chu’s love was like a mayfly yearning for eternity.
Jasmine fragrance saturated the bedchamber. Yun Jichu gathered her damp hair, tying it loosely with a ribbon before emerging with a golden basin in hand and a towel draped over her arm.
Today had been truly delightful.
Bathing without Helian Jin meant far less time wasted—and no exhaustion afterward.
Yun Jichu had already devised her plan.
Helian Jin was superstitious by nature; she would have to explain matters to him gradually and clearly, ensuring he would never again fall prey to such delusions.
With his chest wound still healing, his cough barely quelled, and headaches flaring now and then, she would insist he tend to his health properly.
She wore tea-white nightclothes, loosely draped, her silk sash tied so precariously it seemed ready to slip at any moment.
As she gathered her hair, the front of her robe parted slightly.
A few crystalline droplets still clung to her face; her lashes, wet and unfurled from their usual curl; her lips, steamed plump and rosy by the hot water.
She lit a lamp and set it on the small table beside the bed before sitting on its edge.
Helian Jin watched her draw near.
Jasmine enveloped him.
The wicked thoughts he had quelled roared back to life.
“Shall I undress you, or will you do it yourself?”
“Ah Chu…”
“Hm?”
Helian Jin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “Ah Chu, undress me.”
The words carried an ambiguous edge.
Yun Jichu’s first instinct was that he meant for her to strip, but she quickly realized he wanted her help removing his clothes.
That had been a close call—she’d almost taken it the wrong way.
Undressing Helian Jin was something she knew well.
Without hesitation, Yun Jichu untied his belt first, then peeled his robe open from the front and slid it off.
Just like all those countless times before.
Only this time, she was the one doing it for him.
His outer robe came off completely, leaving just his undergarment.
Worried the bathwater might cool if they took too long, she moved on briskly to remove that as well.
As she worked…
Yun Jichu jerked her hand back after it brushed something hot. “What’s this about?”
Helian Jin met her gaze frankly. “Ah Chu undressing me—weren’t you always unfazed whenever you saw me like this before?”
Heat flooded Yun Jichu’s cheeks, but she tamped it down. “Focus on resting and healing. No funny thoughts.”
With his clothes fully shed, she wrung out a damp cloth and began wiping him down, starting at his neck.
When she passed over his Adam’s apple, she couldn’t resist going over it twice more. Through the soft fabric, her fingers pressed down on that elegant ridge like a jade peak.
Helian Jin watched her, his eyes dark and smoldering in the flickering lamplight.
Lower still, she wiped down his arms and across his chest, but he kept one hand clamped over the wound.
“Move your hand.”
He didn’t budge.
Yun Jichu had no choice but to work around his palm, meticulously cleaning the other side of his chest.
The muscles rose and fell in firm ridges.
She couldn’t help lingering with a couple extra strokes. The cloth was so fine and yielding as it glided over him, and her fingers brushed against his skin by accident.
She chided herself for it, but the temptation was too strong to resist.
After all, these past days Helian Jin hadn’t let her so much as glimpse him bare, not even removing his outer robe.
His large palm slid along her leg, traveling upward until it claimed her waist.
Yun Jichu’s mouth went dry.
She flung the cloth aside and quit. “Wash the rest yourself! Just keep water away from your chest.”
Helian Jin chuckled at how she averted her eyes in embarrassment yet stole peeks. “Ah Chu, help me wash.”
His hand kneaded her waist, setting her heart aflutter, but she worried they’d end up tangled again—and she’d have to bathe all over.
“No.”
“Then wait for me, Ah Chu.”
His palm lingered reluctantly before withdrawing. Helian Jin rose, shrugged on his robe, and took the cloth from her grasp.
His long fingers grazed the back of her hand, ever so faintly.
A lingering jasmine scent trailed after him as he headed into the bath chamber.
By the time he returned, Yun Jichu had already drifted off to sleep.
She hadn’t waited up for him.
Helian Jin lay down beside her and drew her into his arms.
Exhausted from dashing about all day, perhaps, Yun Jichu slumbered deeply. Not even the hand that wandered teasingly over her lower back roused her.
With gentle motions, Helian Jin slipped off her nightgown. Warmth and fragrance enveloped him.
He knew his sins ran deep, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes from Yun Jichu’s sleeping form.
Her slender shoulders flowed into a waist as graceful as a jade vase. Beneath the dim glow of the single lamp, her skin gleamed snow-white, her ink-black hair spilling like a waterfall as she curled against him.
The nightgown cradled in his arms still held her warmth, as if he held Ah Chu herself.
“Ah Chu…”
The gauze bed curtains quivered. Tea-white bloomed anew upon the tea-white silk.
In Penglai Hall, Lady Yu entered with a smile. “Your Highness, the Crown Prince is here.”
The Princess looked up from her picture album. “Imperial Brother?”
The Crown Prince strode in and set down the item in his hands.
“Ah Huan, I hear you’ve made a full recovery.”
The Princess stepped forward and opened the food box. Inside lay sugar cakes, glutinous dumplings, and more.
Delight lit her face. “Thank you, Imperial Brother.”
The Crown Prince had never cared for sweets; she’d never seen him bring pastries or sweet soups before. Yet here he was, so thoughtful.
Watching her savor every bite, he could tell his sister was truly on the mend.
“Ah Huan, burning the midnight oil like this—why not turn in early? You’re still recovering and need your rest.”
The Princess’s lips pursed in a pout. “Father Emperor tricked me today, so I ended up waiting until this late hour.”
“Father Emperor tricked you?”
“He said he’d bring Mother to visit me tonight, but I’ve been waiting until now, and they still haven’t come.”
The Crown Prince replied, “I stopped by Yanying Hall at dusk. Father Emperor’s headaches flared up again—he’s likely turned in early tonight.”
“No wonder Mother didn’t visit today.” The Princess glanced at him. “Shall we go see Father Emperor together?”
She didn’t fancy going alone just now.
The Crown Prince shook his head. “Mother’s by his side. We shouldn’t disturb them. Better to wait a few days.”
The Princess nodded and asked with a playful smile, “You keep telling me to sleep, but why are you still up, Imperial Brother?”
The Crown Prince looked faintly exasperated. “This morning, Father Emperor added to my studies for some reason.”
The Princess burst into laughter. “Imperial Father probably thinks you’re bothering Mother.”
The Crown Prince shook his head. He had already formed his suspicions.
It was he who had leaked word of Imperial Father’s injury. Father must have guessed as much.
“I’ve heard you’ve been downcast these days, keeping your distance from Imperial Father.”
The Princess fell silent.
“Ah Huan, Imperial Father has always been this way. Why hold a grudge against him?”
The Princess replied, “These years, Imperial Father has been trapped by the likes of you and me, merely biding his time and wishing he could break free sooner. Imperial Brother, I simply can’t accept it.”