Ruan Ning almost blurted out “Really?” but stopped herself in time.
“Sleep,” Yan Xuan kissed her lips and picked a hair comb from the makeup box. “My scalp itches a bit; come comb my hair.”
Removing the jade crown and hairpins, Yan Xuan’s thick black hair cascaded over his shoulders. The warm comb teeth sliding through produced a soft brushing sound, reminding Ruan Ning of a young man in an ancient-style manga.
Inexplicably, Ruan Ning asked, “Your Majesty, is your name really A’Mo?”
“That’s my childhood name,” Yan Xuan replied, squinting and enjoying her gentle touch on his scalp.
Suddenly, Yan Xuan stood up and spread his arms: “Help me undress.”
Ruan Ning was startled. Although undressing was a consort’s duty, the last time they shared a night, she had only seen half of Yan Xuan’s chest. This sudden request felt too stimulating.
“I’ll call a palace maid to serve you,” she quickly said.
“No, you do it,” he smiled, keeping his arms outstretched.
Ruan Ning approached stiffly, her trembling fingers removing the jade belt, untying the buttons, and taking off Yan Xuan’s deep blue robe. He wore a light moonwhite inner garment. Ruan Ning didn’t dare look closely, feeling a masculine scent wash over her face. She quickly lowered her head, fumbling at his waist to untie the belt while Yan Xuan laughed.
The more Ruan Ning turned her face away, the more likely she was to touch something inappropriate, her unconscious teasing becoming increasingly interesting. He pressed her hand and said, “Consort, your hand is quite naughty.” Startled, Ruan Ning found her hand pressed close to an inappropriate area. Clearly, he was doing this on purpose—how shameless!
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away to continue undressing. Yan Xuan chuckled, thinking she resembled a pufferfish. On a whim, he hugged her, pushing her back onto the bed and pressing down heavily. Ruan Ning panicked, silently reminding herself that he couldn’t do anything, so she shouldn’t be afraid.
“What are you thinking?” Yan Xuan asked, leaning down to find her lips, biting gently before untangling her clothes and tossing them aside. As he touched her waist, Ruan Ning’s heart raced, but he soon fell asleep. She sighed in relief; the intelligence was accurate—Yan Xuan truly couldn’t.
The next morning, Consort Sun arrived early but was blocked at the door. Gao Song smiled and said, “His Majesty is resting and has not yet risen. Consort, please return.” Consort Sun had countless words stuck in her throat.
When Ruan Ning woke up, her entire arm was numb; Yan Xuan had slept on her shoulder all night.
He woke earlier, tilting his head to look at her, dimples barely visible: “Consort likes to sleep in.”
Ruan Ning lightly coughed and said, “Your Majesty, my arm is numb.” Yan Xuan raised an eyebrow and moved away. He jumped off the bed, called for servants to help him wash, and instructed Gao Song: “Send some medical ladies to massage the Consort; her arm is sore from serving me hard last night.”
Less than an hour later, all the women in the harem heard that the newly entered Consort had been favored so much that her limbs were numb, prompting His Majesty to summon the medical bureau for her treatment.
Several concubines gathered at Consort Sun’s place, exchanging glances. After a while, someone whispered, “Does this mean His Majesty has favored her?” Their expressions were strange, half doubt and half resentment. They had been in the palace for years, yet never received his true favor. Why had this princess from an enemy country suddenly risen to prominence?
Ruan Ning learned from her wet nurse that she had been too indulgent and needed medical treatment. The wet nurse remarked, half with heartache and half with excitement: “I didn’t expect His Majesty to be so caring.”
Princess, take good care of yourself and don’t fear temporary hardship. Once you give birth, you’ll secure your place in the inner palace!”
Ruan Ning looked up, speechless. Why can’t women circulate more reliable rumors?
That afternoon, under Consort Sun’s lead, a group of women arrived at Qixia Palace. Yan Xuan was absent, but Gao Song was smiling and blocking the entrance: “Reporting to the Consort, His Majesty wants the Noble Consort to rest well. No one is allowed to disturb her.”
Jealousy flickered across Consort Sun’s face. It was well-known that His Majesty relied heavily on Gao Song, and now he was assigned to guard the Noble Consort. What charm had she used?
Everyone sent various gifts, hoping to get close to the Noble Consort.
That day, Yan Xuan returned late. Ruan Ning, sleepy, forced herself to sit at the table waiting for him. When he saw her, his mood lifted. He leaned in and held her, whispering, “Waiting for me?”
“Mm,” Ruan Ning rubbed her eyes. “Has His Majesty finished his work?”
Yan Xuan smiled faintly. “No, still busy tomorrow.”
Yan Xuan, feeling irritated by Sun Taifu’s incessant remarks, thought about how he might deal with him someday.
“I’ll go take a bath; you sleep first,” he said, kissing her lips.
He entered the back room of the side hall, where a plum blossom-shaped pool was filled with hot spring water that carried a faint sulfur smell. Relaxing in it brought him comfort.
As he leaned against the white jade edge of the pool, he replayed Sun Taifu’s words in his mind:
“The late Emperor’s mausoleum is still not completed. As a son, aren’t you afraid of being criticized for being unfilial? Your Majesty ignores the harem concubines and only favors the Chen Kingdom princess. This is the beginning of chaos. The late Emperor wisely dealt with the threat posed by Princess Ning Yi to preserve the royal bloodline. You should follow his example.”
With a bitter laugh, Yan Xuan reflected on the late Emperor, his father, who had seldom been present in his life and now rested in a cold golden coffin. The idea of building a mausoleum for him felt absurd.
As he closed his eyes, memories from his childhood surfaced. He was not yet nine when he witnessed a fierce argument between his mother, the long-fallen Empress, and his father, filled with bitter conflict.
The late Emperor accused her of killing favored concubines, while the Empress claimed he was ungrateful, using her family’s power to rise to the throne and then betraying her.
They attacked each other with vicious language, exposing each other’s misdeeds without regard for their nine-year-old son’s ability to process their true nature. The hall’s candlelight flickered dimly as they argued, until the late Emperor suddenly drew his knife and stabbed the Empress.
Yan Xuan clearly remembered his mother knocking over the candlestick, letting everything sink into darkness. That act of tenderness seemed a fleeting thought, as she likely feared her son would witness the horror.
But he had already seen it, changing his life forever.
When he opened his eyes again, his face was cold.
Yan Xuan donned his sleeping robe, letting water droplets fall from his hair and body as he walked to the bedroom.
A silver candlestick sat on the dressing table, but gentle light filled the room from numerous night pearls.
Yan Xuan pursed his lips, reflecting on how he spoiled her.
He sat by the bed and gently woke her: “Go, trim the candle wick.”
Ruan Ning woke with a start, immediately seeing a different Yan Xuan.
The aura of disgust and rejection emanated from him as Ruan Ning got out of bed and stood by the dressing table to trim the candle.
Yan Xuan leaned against the bed railing, expressionless: “These night pearls he gave you?”
Ruan Ning’s mind was in chaos. She hesitated and said, “Your Majesty, these were bestowed by you.”
Yan Xuan coldly snorted: “You are the Noble Consort. What about the Empress?”
Ruan Ning softly replied, “Your Majesty has not established an Empress.”
