“I don’t know! Maybe you’re right. We don’t have many memories together,” Qing Yun touched her sculpted face. Their time together was brief. He could count their encounters on his fingers.
“I’m surprised myself at how much I care about you. I left a war unfinished for you—am I a foolish king?” He lifted her off the ground, her feet no longer touching the floor.
“Who dares call you a foolish king?” Huang Bei Shuang smiled softly. “Neither Ruo Wen nor that battle has ever gone against you. It doesn’t sound like you to say such things.”
Qing Yun laughed, tightening his grip on her waist, making her gasp softly. In a moment, his forehead rested against hers. “I will understand you—everything about you,” he said.
Huang Bei Shuang’s heart ached at his words. She was an easy person to understand, but she feared that once he did, he would be angry with her for a long, long time—so angry that he would never think of her again.
After a pause, she closed her eyes and replied, “I have something I want to give you, just for you.”
“What is it?” Qing Yun laughed. “Another jade ring?”
Huang Bei Shuang chuckled, her voice enchanting. “I’m thinking of giving you a lotus flower.”
Qing Yun blinked, surprised. “A lotus flower?”
Huang Bei Shuang’s smile suddenly became seductive, like a lotus blooming in summer. She looked at Qing Yun, still confused, and leaned in slowly, licking his eyes with her fiery red tongue, keeping him from opening them. Teasing him like this for a while, Qing Yun could no longer hold back. He grabbed her to scold her, “You’re still injured…” But before he could finish, he saw Huang Bei Shuang standing before him, having removed her outer clothing, leaving only her inner garments. Though her chest still bore two deep scars, they did nothing to diminish her allure. Her snowy skin, prominent collarbone, and the hint of perfect curves beneath the fabric… and on her right arm, a three-petaled lotus bloomed.
Mesmerized, Qing Yun stared at the lotus, his hand instinctively moving to gently touch it. The moment he made contact, she trembled, unable to bear it any longer. He took her to the bed, pulling down the thick, dark green curtains, abruptly covering the room in shadow.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, leaning over her, holding his breath.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Huang Bei Shuang smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
“I love you!” At that moment, her words were almost like a whisper in a dream. “The whole world can say this isn’t love, but I won’t. The whole world can treat this as nothing more than a fleeting night of passion, but I won’t! They say a man loves many women in his life, and they say a woman can love countless men, but I, Huang Bei Shuang, have no interest in such things. In this life, I love only Qing Yun.”
Her words were slow, simple, but like him, every word was sincere, each one striking Qing Yun’s heart, pushing his wildly beating chest. His hands, resting on either side of her, were trembling with intensity. His breath was uneven, heavy, so heavy it seemed to say, "I love you too..."
Qing Yun swallowed hard, his slightly parted lips inching closer to hers, covered in a sheen of nervous sweat. The thin distance between them made his desire unbearable. Seeing him suddenly freeze in place, Huang Bei Shuang smiled. She was nervous too—who would have thought that uniting with the person you love could be such an anxious experience?
But as she felt his sweat drip onto her chest, she suddenly found him adorable, as if he were a child, as if he were that lonely, fifteen-year-old Qing Yun once again.
“I am yours... forever!”
Hearing this, Qing Yun took a deep breath, and with no further hesitation, he kissed her deeply. His hands urgently undid her robes, his kisses spreading over her like a fisherman’s net. His caresses were filled with impatience, and the fierce entanglement of their bodies stirred a soft moan from Huang Bei Shuang that she could no longer suppress. It was a quiet, brief sound, but it only fueled Qing Yun’s desire to possess her fully. “You…” In that instant, he froze again. “How could this be?”
Huang Bei Shuang winced in pain, unable to speak for a long time.
Such a beautiful virgin queen—there would likely never be another like her in the world. With the personalities of both King Zhan and Ruo Wen, he could never have imagined that Huang Bei Shuang was still untouched. He had hurt her, wounded her with his desire, and she had allowed him to do so.
“You silly woman, why didn’t you say something sooner!” Qing Yun held her tightly, not moving, his voice simple as he asked, “Are you feeling better?”
Huang Bei Shuang, startled, sweat covering her forehead, replied softly, “I’m fine…”
Qing Yun’s heart was moved deeply. His hands gently resumed their caresses, and under the thick dark green curtains, he truly and completely claimed the world’s most unique lotus flower!
Memories are a legend in the wind, turning and twisting through time...
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