Pei Qing prepared everything for the bath, carefully checking the water temperature.
But after all was ready, she realized that Xiao Yuan was no longer in the room. She had heard voices outside earlier, suggesting that he had likely gone to deal with some urgent matters. With the cold wind howling outside and Zhi Lan staying in Xuyang Palace with Ji’er, Pei Qing found herself alone in Hanning Palace.
She closed the door, walked behind the screen, and began undressing.
The warm water soothed her body as she closed her eyes, reflecting on the words spoken during the meal earlier. He had said that life and death were beyond one’s control, but one could choose how to die and for whom.
Her sister had died in childbirth, hemorrhaging to death, but the matron who knew the truth said she had died with a smile on her face. Thus, everyone claimed that she had died for the Emperor and the royal bloodline. Her brother-in-law had worked himself into sickness, and one day, when he passed... it would be for the sake of the country, the empire, and the people.
But... Pei Qing opened her eyes. Although the rebellion led by Prince Yu and Prince Yun had been quelled, threats still loomed both inside and outside the city. The Nanchuan army was constantly on guard, day and night, and Chu Li always reported military affairs with hurried steps. She understood now that the situation was far more complex than she had initially thought.
It was easy to come to their aid unexpectedly, but leaving unscathed might be difficult.
For some reason, a pang of sadness welled up in her heart. In hindsight, that plea for help she had written must have been like a death warrant, dragging someone into a deep abyss.
After her bath, she changed into her inner garments and began drying her hair.
People said that the Nanchuan King was violent and ruthless, killing at the slightest provocation and trampling over the law. When someone had once tried to impeach him in court, their head was removed on the way home, and after that, no one dared to mention Nanchuan again.
But now, it didn’t seem entirely true. The southern regions were warm all year round, yet now, in this freezing cold, with bloody battles and night patrols, not a single complaint or sigh was heard from the Nanchuan soldiers stationed in the palace. If it weren’t for the strict military discipline, how could this be possible?
At first, when she learned of these things, she was afraid. Then, when she discovered that the Nanchuan King was named Xiao Yuan and was still young and handsome, she became even more fearful. Pei Qing knew very well that she had wronged him, and she knew how much her words before entering the palace had hurt him.
And now, she was still afraid. Pei Qing walked over to the bed and lifted the quilt.
She feared... that he might not make it back.
Just as she was about to blow out the candle, she heard the creak of the door. A gust of cold wind blew in, followed by the sound of the door slamming shut. Xiao Yuan, covered in snow, entered, the warmth and fragrance of the room instantly dispelling some of the cold that clung to him.
When he saw her standing by the bed as if preparing to sleep, his brows furrowed. “You were going to sleep before I got back?”
Pei Qing quickly stood up. “I... I thought you weren’t coming back.”
“If I wasn’t coming back, where would I go?” He grumbled, pulling something out of his clothes and shoving it into her hand. “This thing keeps falling off.”
Pei Qing looked down and saw that it was the peace amulet she had given him the night before. The red silk pouch was wet, as if soaked with snow.
“Let me sew a strap on it. If you tie it to your belt, it won’t fall off.” As she spoke, she reached for her sewing kit.
“So troublesome,” he muttered, as he began to undress.
Pei Qing returned with the sewing kit, noticing his outer robe was completely soaked. “Why is your outer robe all wet?”
But Xiao Yuan didn’t respond, heading straight behind the screen to bathe. As the Nanchuan King, he would never admit that on his way back to the Eastern Palace, the peace amulet had fallen off, only to be blown away by a snowstorm. He and Chu Li had chased it across the imperial city, and by the time they reached the Eastern Palace, Chu Li had been out of breath and laughing, earning himself a kick for his troubles.
By now, word had probably spread throughout the entire Nanchuan army.
Seeing that he didn’t respond, Pei Qing assumed he was angry again. Remembering that she hadn’t prepared anything for him to bathe with, she quickly put down the sewing kit and went after him. “I’ll get everything ready right awa—ah!”
Suddenly faced with his naked, muscular body, Pei Qing yelped in surprise, blushing furiously as she turned her back on him, forgetting what she had intended to say.
Xiao Yuan noticed even her back exuded a shy allure. The soft fabric of her inner garment clung to her curves, her long hair brushing against it, and with each movement, it swept over his heart.
“Is your idea of a bath cold water?” he asked.
Pei Qing hadn’t expected him to come back, much less undress so quickly. She pointed to the side. “There’s some clean hot water left; it’s not as hot as before, but if you add it in, it should be just right.”
Xiao Yuan glanced at the water she indicated, then back at her, letting out a cold snort.
Those delicate, white hands that only played the zither and ground ink probably couldn’t even lift the hot water.
Hearing the sound of water behind her, Pei Qing sighed in relief. Since he had already undressed himself, there shouldn’t be much more for her to do. “I’ll leave you to your bath then; I’ll go sew the strap.”
As she was about to leave, Xiao Yuan’s voice, filled with displeasure, stopped her. “Sew it here.”
“What?” Pei Qing still faced away from him.
“If I’m not satisfied with your sewing, that Xiao Ji’an will not be allowed to eat here again.”
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