Chapter 448: Are You a Wolf, Too? And You Like to Bite

A woman fresh from a lover’s embrace possesses an unwitting, seductive charm in her eyes.

Little did she know, begging for mercy in a matter like this would only stoke a man’s desire to torment her further.

Zhao Mingyan stated bluntly, "It doesn’t matter if you can’t."

It seemed there was no room for negotiation.

Ji Qingwu pouted, trying to press her case.

"Your Majesty, this should be an act of mutual pleasure. It’s better when both parties are willing."

Zhao Mingyan said, "One-sided passion can have its own special thrill, don’t you think, Ah Wu?"

Ji Qingwu didn’t dare to answer. ’That question is a trap.’

Zhao Mingyan leaned in, pressing a hand he had just rinsed in cold water against the side of her neck. The chill made her flinch.

He asked gently, "What’s wrong? Let me have a look."

’How could she possibly let him see?’ Ji Qingwu shook her head and said in a huff, "You don’t need to look. I’m fine now."

Zhao Mingyan gazed into her eyes and said innocently, "One moment you say you can’t, the next you say you’re fine. Ah Wu, which is it? When are you lying to me?"

Ji Qingwu could hardly muster a pleasant expression for the one responsible for her predicament.

He then swept her up into his arms, and they returned to the bed.

The moment her bottom touched the cool sheets, Ji Qingwu cried out with an "Ouch!"

Zhao Mingyan simply pulled her onto his lap, positioning her in a way that left her utterly exposed. Ji Qingwu’s eyelashes fluttered in a panic.

She couldn’t help but tense up, more from embarrassment than anything else.

The last time, she had lost consciousness. This time, however, she was wide awake to witness everything he was doing.

His cool, long fingers probed her firmly. Ji Qingwu covered her face with her hands, burying her head like an ostrich, refusing to face the situation.

The area was so red and swollen it gleamed, looking as if the skin might break at any moment. Zhao Mingyan frowned. "You really are hurt."

Ji Qingwu peeked at him through the gaps between her fingers, seeing clear remorse and pained tenderness on his face.

She sniffled and said plaintively, "I hurt everywhere. My back hurts, my legs hurt, even my eyes are sore from crying... It’s all your fault..."

Zhao Mingyan kissed her eyelids. "It’s all my Ah Wu’s fault for being too beautiful."

As he gently soothed her, a sudden devilish impulse took hold of Ji Qingwu. She leaned in and bit his collarbone.

’Is his collarbone made of solid steel?’

Fighting through the ache in her teeth, Ji Qingwu let out a small, triumphant grunt, as if she’d gotten her revenge.

Zhao Mingyan pinched her cheek. "Are you a little wolf? So fond of biting."

Ji Qingwu hadn’t held back, leaving a clear bite mark on his collarbone. She admired her handiwork with satisfaction and threw his own argument back at him.

"It’s all Your Majesty’s fault for looking so delectable."

Zhao Mingyan’s chest rumbled as a delighted laugh escaped his throat.

He picked up the teapot from the bedside table, poured a cup of water, and held it to her lips.

Ji Qingwu was parched, but she worried he had some ulterior motive and planned to continue wearing her out.

"I’m not drinking it."

Zhao Mingyan pressed the cup to her lips and teased, "My Ah Wu is made of water. You lost so much fluid just now, you need to rehydrate."

Her cheeks flushed crimson. Her breathy, indignant retort sent ripples across the surface of the tea. "You... How could you..."

Zhao Mingyan feigned surprise. "What are you thinking, Ah Wu? I meant that I made you cry so many tears. It was my fault. I’m offering this tea as an apology."

Only then did Ji Qingwu relent, taking small sips from the cup he held for her.

After she finished the cup, she licked her lips. Zhao Mingyan immediately poured another and held it to her mouth.

Ji Qingwu wasn’t as thirsty anymore, but he insisted on feeding her, and she found it hard to refuse. So she drank another cup of tea.

When she saw him fill the cup yet again, she rubbed her stomach and said quickly, "I really can’t drink another drop."

Zhao Mingyan drank that cup himself. But before he could even set the cup down, Li Yuzong’s voice came from outside the bed curtains, announcing his presence.

"Your Majesty, an urgent military report has arrived."

Ji Qingwu froze. ’For him to come at this hour, the military intelligence must be critical. Eunuch Li wouldn’t dare to interrupt otherwise.’

The smile vanished from Zhao Mingyan’s lips. He helped her settle deeper into the bed and pulled the covers over her.

"Ah Wu, you get some rest."

Ji Qingwu looked at him with her large, dark eyes and nodded.

Seeing her obedient and endearing look, Zhao Mingyan stroked her cheek, drew the bed curtains shut, and then strode over to the large sandalwood desk.

"Send him in."

The messenger was a Hidden Guard dressed in black. He was startled to see a large hole in the chamber floor but dared not let it show on his face.

He knelt and said, "Master, Emperor Yu Wen of Xijin is in a bad state. He is expected to pass away tonight."

Zhao Mingyan wasn’t surprised. He rubbed the fingers that had just touched Ji Qingwu’s face, the soft, smooth sensation still lingering on their tips.

He said coolly, "So the day has finally come. But that old thief Yu Wen isn’t dead yet. Why are you so certain it will be tonight? Is his ’good son’ finally making a move?"

The Hidden Guard lowered his head respectfully. "Yes. Your Majesty’s foresight is uncanny. Prince Xijin has prepared a poisonous medicinal soup and plans to send the Old Emperor to the Western Heaven tonight."

Zhao Mingyan nodded. "I understand."

*

The gilded palace of Xijin was swallowed by the night.

In the main hall of the Old Emperor’s bedchamber stood a statue of a golden-winged bird, its outstretched wings spanning a full thirty zhang.

Within the inner hall hung nine layers of red gauze curtains. Each gossamer screen was embroidered with the gold-threaded totem of a different clan, one of which was a crescent moon.

On the sandalwood couch in the deepest part of the room, an imperial yellow brocade quilt formed a lump.

The Crown Prince, Yu Wen Tiancheng, knelt on a carpet woven with a mandala pattern, holding a silver bowl inlaid with turquoise.

"Imperial Father, it is time for your medicine."

The medicinal soup in the bowl had an eerie indigo hue.

The Old Emperor’s hand emerged from the bedding. His swollen fingers bore no resemblance to the hands that once wielded weapons to conquer an empire.

A sharp, hawk-like glint flashed in his murky pupils.

"What is this?"

Yu Wen Tiancheng said, "Imperial Father, this is a Life-extending Soup, brewed from seven kinds of poisonous insects and a Heavenly Snow Lotus."

As soon as the Old Emperor heard it was a life-extending medicine, he nodded. "Bring it here."

Yu Wen Tiancheng helped him sit up. He could feel the old man’s slack muscles beneath his hands and smell the stench of decay clinging to him. Bedridden for years, the emperor was emaciated beyond recognition, nothing but sharp, jutting bones.

The Old Emperor drank the soup. After he lay back down, a sound like a wheezing bellows came from his throat.

"Cheng’er... the war... with Beili... Are you... confident...?"

Yu Wen Tiancheng kept his eyes downcast and did not answer, remaining perfectly still and silent as he knelt.

The Old Emperor was about to fly into a rage and demand why he didn’t answer when a surge of blood rushed to his chest. He suddenly began to cough violently, spattering the front of his imperial yellow nightshirt with specks of scarlet.

Yu Wen Tiancheng seemed not to notice. Like a statue, he remained silent and motionless.

The blood was tinged with indigo, the very same color as the Life-extending Soup he had just drunk.

The Old Emperor’s eyes bulged, looking as if they would burst from their sockets.

"You... you’re committing patricide... You vile, unfilial son!"

He jolted upright in bed, his fingers like withered branches clawing at the carved edge of the couch as he coughed up even more blood.

Yu Wen Tiancheng rose from the floor, dusted off his knees, and cast a casual glance at the Old Emperor, who had fallen weakly back onto the sandalwood couch.

Just then, the nine layers of red gauze curtains were drawn aside, one by one.