Chapter 14: Song Zhao’s Chamber Service 2

Chapter 14: Song Zhao's Chamber Service 2

'Boom'

Another thunderclap roared through the sky, startling Song Zhao uncontrollably.

At that moment, she knelt before Xiao Jingheng, her frail figure curled up, her body shivering and drenched,

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and as her long eyelashes fluttered, the tears fell in large drops.

Like pearls dripping onto her smoky-blue garments, spreading into a pool of wet stains.

"Your Majesty... this concubine..."

Her voice was noticeably strained, as if she was desperately holding back sobs, a sound that tugged at the heartstrings.

All of this was witnessed by Xiao Jingheng.

Men always tend to have a soft spot for women,

The more delicate the woman, the more they stir their protective instincts.

Of course, this all assumes that the woman has sufficiently enticing beauty; only then can her tears be as pitiable as pear blossoms bathed in rain.

And what Song Zhao did not lack, was precisely this beauty.

Xiao Jingheng's eyes softened, and he extended his hand to help Song Zhao up from the cold ground.

Her hand was smooth, fair, and cold.

Like a fine piece of raw jade held in his grasp.

Xiao Jingheng tightened his grip on her hand, his tone more gentle, "Don't be afraid, I'm not a ferocious beast."

Song Zhao huddled her shoulders, nodding her head and murmuring in a very aggrieved and soft voice, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Xiao Jingheng asked her, "With such a fair face, why do you still pretend to have a rash when it has clearly faded?"

"I'm scared..." Song Zhao pursed her lips, her breath becoming increasingly erratic as the emotions she had been suppressing suddenly spiraled out of control, covering her face with silk and sobbing softly.

Her crying was skillfully done,

It needed to be convincing and real, yet not unsightly.

The angle at which to face Xiao Jingheng, the frequency of her blinks, whether tears should fall from the inner or outer corner of the eye, and the tone to use when sobbing to sound most heart-wrenching,

Song Zhao had practiced all these details countless times in private.

In Xiao Jingheng's eyes, there was no flaw to be found; he only felt his heart in turmoil seeing Song Zhao cry like this.

"Don't cry," he said, gently wiping away her tears, "Tell me, what are you afraid of?"

Song Zhao took a few deep breaths, striving to stabilize her emotions.

She didn't want to speak, but under Xiao Jingheng's persistent questioning, she finally relented and opened up,

"This concubine fears receiving favor, hence the misguided thoughts."

Xiao Jingheng asked, "Others fear not receiving favor, yet you fear it?"

Song Zhao replied with a melancholic expression, "My aunt was beaten to death by my mother in front of me at the age of six, just because she had erred slightly, having gained my father's affection. I fear receiving favor, lest I meet the same fate as my aunt..."

(Ps: According to ancient customs, children born out of wedlock must address their father's legal wife as 'mother' and any concubine, even their biological mother, as 'aunt'.)

After hearing Song Zhao's words, Xiao Jingheng comforted her gently on the surface:

"Don't be afraid. Your father did not protect your aunt, but now that you have become my concubine, I will naturally protect you. Moreover, within the imperial city, the law prevails; no one can harm or scold you without cause, understand?"

As he consoled her, he thought to himself:

Song Zhao was indeed beautiful, but not particularly clever.

She spoke such unmentionable family matters in front of me, unafraid of my opinion of Song Shicheng?

Being with an emperor is like being with a tiger; her words could jeopardize her father's future at any moment.

However, compared to other consorts, Song Zhao's 'lack of cleverness' was exactly what Xiao Jingheng desired.

In the harem, from the empress to the lowest ranks, who isn't full of schemes?

Even in casual conversation, their words are carefully weighed and considered.

Sometimes, being with overly cautious and clever people means constantly guarding against their schemes, which is exhausting.

Little did Xiao Jingheng know that Song Zhao wished nothing more than to drag her maternal family to hell, to join her mother in her grave.

'Boom'

The thunderstorm outside showed no signs of abating, the likes of which hadn't been seen in the capital for years.

With each clap of thunder, Song Zhao shivered involuntarily.

Xiao Jingheng gazed at Song Zhao,

Her tears had washed away much of the rash on her face, revealing her naturally exquisite and luminous skin, all the more enchanting and irresistible.

"Still say you're not afraid of thunder?" he said, smiling indulgently and patting Song Zhao's head as one would a child.

"'Tears like these will swell your eyes by morning, and others might think I mistreated you tonight. Go wash your face; there's no need to fear with me here.'"

"Xiao Jingheng took Song Zhao's hand and led her from the heated platform to the dressing table."

"On the table, there was a pure gold basin engraved with dragon patterns, filled with dew water soaked with rose and begonia petals."

"Xiao Jingheng asked her, 'Are you only allergic to peach blossoms, or do other flowers affect you too?'"

"Song Zhao shyly shook her head, then gently took the plain handkerchief he offered and began to wash her face with delicate movements."

"Xiao Jingheng watched as the red rash on her face gradually faded with the cleansing of the clear water, until finally, the last trace of pigment was washed away, revealing her fair and delicate true complexion."

"As the emperor, he had seen many beauties,"

"and the women in his harem, led by Chen Fei, were each beauties in their own right."

"Even so, upon clearly seeing Song Zhao's true face, Xiao Jingheng couldn't help but feel a tremor in his heart, inwardly exclaiming her beauty to be celestial."

"Such a beauty, like a lotus flower emerging from clear water, naturally unadorned."

"Song Zhao felt somewhat embarrassed under Xiao Jingheng's intense gaze,"

"She lowered her head, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks, and murmured softly:"

"'Your Majesty...'"

"Xiao Jingheng swept this beauty into his arms, embracing her waist and lifting her horizontally with gentle movements, then carefully laid her on the imperial couch."

"Before putting her down, his index finger had already hooked the tie at her waist,"

With a slight effort, the sash came undone, revealing a glimpse of spring.

His fingertips lightly trailed over Song Zhao's shoulders, and with each rumble of thunder outside the window, her body trembled uncontrollably.

Xiao Jingheng lay over her, close to her ear, allowing his warm breath to caress her earlobe as he whispered softly,

"If you are scared, hold me tighter."

As he spoke, he took Song Zhao's wrist and placed it around his lean waist.

Song Zhao hummed softly in affirmation, her hands slowly moving up to embrace Xiao Jingheng's firm back,

Her delicate fingers gradually tightening with each peal of thunder.

The night deepened further.

Yet, the candles in the Chaoyang Palace remained lit, long into the night.