A delicate aroma of green tea lingers between her lips, and as his kisses deepen, his scent blends with hers, familiar yet invigorating—enough to leave her momentarily stunned, just enough to give him the opening he needs. He knows every sensitive point on her body, and with his practiced technique, he effortlessly erodes her remaining sense of reason, drawing her deeper into the softening rhythm of his advances. Yun Rao didn’t know how it happened—when she regained awareness, she found herself on the bed, her clothes disheveled, him pressing down upon her, his chest slightly open, revealing a well-defined expanse of flesh that rises and falls with each breath. The quiet, steady gaze in his eyes is one she recognizes—beneath the calm, dark surface, there burns a compelling, alluring light. Yet to her, this face was entirely unfamiliar—bold and vigorous, with a coolness that fell short and a dignity that surpassed all expectations. It was not the face she was accustomed to. Pressed onto the bed in such an intimate, ambiguous posture, both mentally and physically, Yun Rao found herself utterly unable to accept the awkwardness. She struggled wildly, her already rosy cheeks growing even redder from the intensity of her movements, her clothes becoming more disheveled, her hair wild and untamed, her clear eyes glistening with unshed tears and deep, heartfelt appeals. "Silently, he released her, reached out to smooth her garments, then turned over and sat up, beginning to straighten his own disheveled clothes." "Thank you," Yun Rao said softly, holding her dress in her hands. Once her composure returned, her senses came back to her, and she realized—he never called himself "I" in her presence. "Let's go have dinner," he said, pulling her up. Having been so absorbed in their embrace, he had lifted her right off her feet and carried her directly back to her quarters, where they had not yet eaten. As the Supreme Ruler, his earlier stubborn resistance had clearly pushed against the very limits of a sovereign. With her mind now restored, Yun Rao found herself compelled to follow. She stepped out with him, her cheeks flushed, making the palace maids in the room feel shy and lowering their heads in embarrassment. The expressions of the others only made Yun Rao more embarrassed. Recalling the embrace she had shared with the Emperor earlier at the banquet, and the way he had escorted her into the imperial chambers, even if nothing had transpired beyond a gentle touch, the rosy hue now spreading across her cheeks—so vivid and delicate—had already clearly signaled to everyone that she had been favored by the Emperor, though the encounter had been brief. This realization made her face burn even hotter, and she dared not lift her eyes. Yan Jing, however, seemed entirely composed. Not only did he gracefully take her hand and lead her to her seat, but he also thoughtfully arranged her dishes, a gesture that left the guests in awe. Yun Rao had little appetite, yet she was still being watched and encouraged to eat. She had expected that, after her initial resistance, the Emperor would have retired after dinner. Instead, he remained, and even instructed the imperial steward to inform the attendants that he would be staying overnight at the Yuehua Palace—news that sent a fresh wave of unease through her, for she now feared he might take matters further in the night. Emperor Yanjing was indeed quite gentlemanly. After dinner, he sent someone to prepare her medicine, then settled gracefully onto the beautiful bed in her pavilion, gently patting the empty space beside him, inviting her to lie down beside him—creating a subtle, intimate atmosphere that felt distinctly like a couple’s closeness. When Yun Rao was with An Ziyuan at that moment, she had never felt so intimately close before, and thus, no matter what she said, she simply couldn’t convince herself to lie beside him. The Emperor, unusually, did not press her. Instead, he set down his book and asked, “You seem unwilling to engage in any intimate gestures with me—why?” Yun Rao pressed her lips together. “Didn’t the Emperor already kiss me just now?” After all, he had kissed her—how could that not count as an intimate gesture? The Emperor seemed momentarily taken aback, then smiled gently, shifting the topic. “Given your resistance to my physical contact, did you have someone special in mind before you entered the palace?” “No,” Yun Rao replied promptly, looking at the Emperor. “I simply am not used to it.” Yet he slightly furrowed his brow. “Never "Yun Rao's gaze was calm," "Never have I." As soon as she finished speaking, he gave a soft huff and suddenly turned away, picking up the book he had just set down and reading it carefully. Yun Rao glanced at his side profile quietly, her lips slightly pressed together, and, in a move of her own initiative, began to steer the conversation. "Does the Emperor wish to hear the truth or a falsehood?" "The truth, of course," Emperor Yan Jing set down the book and looked at her. "You seem to imply that you have someone special in mind?" "If I say so, will the Emperor hold me accountable?" Yun Rao watched his expression carefully, asking cautiously, yet he remained as always, his face composed and expressionless. "Speak, and I will absolve you of any fault." The Emperor spoke gently. "Indeed, before I entered the palace, I had truly developed feelings for a man." Yun Rao held her hands tightly, hesitating before speaking. "Oh?" He looked at her. "I find it rather surprising—what man could have stirred such feelings in you?" "A friend I met by chance." "Ah?" "Two elegant brows arched upward," he asked, "What charm does he possess that has moved your heart?" Yun Rao met his gaze steadily, her lips gently pressed together. "He willingly exposed himself to the blade to save me. Without him, I would no longer be able to stand before the Emperor." The arched brows suddenly lowered, her tone now solemn. "So you've fallen in love with him?" Yun Rao lowered her eyes. "I dare not." "Why not?" "Since I have become the Emperor's consort, I can no longer harbor any other feelings for another man." Her response was composed and dignified, yet her palms were damp with fine perspiration. As she finished speaking, she heard a sharp exhalation, followed by silence. With care, Yun Rao lifted her gaze to look at Yan Jing, the Emperor, only to find him now expressionless, having set down the book in his hands and rising to walk away.