Chapter 19: Is This the Formerly Ascetic Crown Prince?

Chapter 19: Is This the Once-Ascetic Crown Prince?

Pei Yun's mind went blank.

Perhaps in those thirteen years of her past life, she had never been held so firmly by the crown prince.

The man's burning heat seeped through her thin nightgown, the unfamiliar sensation causing her to tremble slightly. The sound of his breathing above her grew heavier.

The large hand restraining her waist moved to her front, undoing her nightgown with an urgency she had never experienced before.

Had she not clearly seen the face before her, Pei Yun would never have believed this could be the same crown prince who was once disinterested in worldly pleasures.

Before she could react, she was already pushed beneath him. Thinking of what was to come, Pei Yun bit her lip, suddenly feeling a flush of irritation.

She hadn’t expected the crown prince to still have any interest in touching her.

Yet she also knew that this time, there was likely no escape.

She understood that relations between men and women shouldn’t be like this, but as for how they *should* be, Pei Yun truly didn’t know.

Abruptly, she recalled her childhood in Wunan, where she once overheard the camp cooks gossiping about the camp followers—how they flirted and clung to men, their shameless moans unbearably vulgar.

Though those women were despised by society, Pei Yun had never looked down on them. They were all women—who was she to judge? Now, she even felt inferior to them, for at least they knew how to find pleasure in such acts.

Lost in thought, Pei Yun mustered unexpected courage and wrapped her slender arms around Li Zhangye’s neck.

Feeling the weight at his waist, Li Zhangye was taken aback. Never had he imagined his usually dignified crown princess would make such a bold move.

He frowned, as if disapproving of the impropriety, and raised a hand to stop her—only to meet her liquid gaze. She stared at him steadily, her damp eyes carrying a hint of pleading.

Li Zhangye’s sharp expression softened.

Though the weather was still cold, the first whispers of spring had begun to stir. Tender buds swayed wildly in the storm, yet clung desperately to sturdy branches, refusing to break. Soon, flowers would bloom from those buds, their petals gathering dewdrops at night until, overwhelmed, the moisture would spill forth, drenching their cores and leaving them ever more radiant.

Pei Yun lay slick with sweat, breathing heavily with closed eyes. Her legs, raised for so long, had gone limp, leaving her nearly collapsed on the bed.

Yet apart from the initial discomfort, she hadn’t suffered afterward. The sensation had been unfamiliar—tingling waves spreading through her limbs, unlike anything she’d known before.

But she had only meant to hold him back, to slow him down so it wouldn’t hurt as much.

She glanced sideways to see Li Zhangye already dressed and sitting at the bedside, ringing for water. Sensing her gaze, he turned to look at her.

His eyes were unreadable, lingering on her as if pondering something.

Pei Yun had no interest in deciphering his thoughts. She turned away, ignoring the stickiness on her skin, and closed her heavy eyelids.

When she woke again, daylight filtered through the blue bed curtains. Pei Yun squinted, feeling a throbbing ache in her legs.

She called out lazily for Shu Mo.

Moments later, the bed curtains parted as Shu Mo leaned in.

While helping Pei Yun up, Shu Mo whispered by her ear, "Your Highness, His Highness is outside."

Pei Yun froze, instinctively asking, "Did His Highness not attend court?"

Shu Mo gave a helpless smile. "Your Highness, it’s already the hour of Si. The prince returned after court and has been waiting for a while. He insisted we not wake you."

Shu Mo hadn’t expected her lady to sleep this late—it seemed she must’ve been truly worn out from last night.

Recalling the events of the previous night, Shu Mo's face flushed red once more. Perhaps it was because the Crown Prince and her lady had not been intimate for so long, but even the usually quiet Linglang Palace had faintly carried noises—soft, delicate whimpers from her mistress, not loud, but sweet and delicate with an unspoken seductiveness, intermittent until the third watch, when the water bell finally chimed.

Pei Yun didn’t know why the Crown Prince had come specifically. Even if he had business, he would usually only visit at night.

She wasn’t in a hurry, calmly finishing her morning routine and changing clothes before stepping into the outer hall to greet him.

Yet the moment she stepped out, she saw the man turn to look at her. His ink-dark eyes met hers for a brief moment before slowly trailing downward, lingering imperceptibly on her waist.

Pei Yun’s ears burned as if set aflame.

Only she knew what that meant.

But with so many people in the hall, she could only endure the soreness and walk forward as if nothing was wrong, bowing slightly to the Crown Prince.

When she lifted her head again, the man sat there poised and regal, his manner aloof and elegant—as if he hadn’t been the one breathing heavily the night before, digging his fingers into her waist hard enough to bruise.

Pei Yun suddenly grew curious. Apart from the bedchamber, what else could make the always composed Crown Prince lose control? After all, even during the funeral rites of the late Empress, he had remained silent, without shedding a single tear.

If he was like that even toward his own mother, no doubt in her past life, after her death, he hadn’t mourned her at all.

As for Shen Ningjia—whether the Crown Prince had been heartbroken over her death, Pei Yun couldn’t say.

"Even if you rose late, you should still eat something to settle your stomach, or you’ll upset it."

Before Pei Yun could probe the reason for the Crown Prince’s visit, a bowl of simple rice porridge was pushed before her.

The porridge still steamed faintly—it must have just been served.

Pei Yun was starving, so she obediently sat down and began eating slowly.

She had only taken two spoonfuls when sudden wailing came from outside. The nursemaid carried Li Chen in, her expression troubled as she looked at Pei Yun.

Pei Yun made to rise, but a pair of large hands was quicker, taking Chen'er from the nursemaid.

Li Zhangye settled the child on his lap, but Chen'er refused to cooperate, crying pitifully with snot and tears streaming down his face, his eyes begging Pei Yun as he struggled fiercely.

Seeing this, Pei Yun didn’t step forward. Instead, she sat back down and continued eating her porridge as if nothing was wrong.

Chen'er was used to being held by her, hence his dependence.

But it wasn’t as if he had no father. In her past life, Pei Yun had taken it upon herself to raise the child, rarely letting the Crown Prince step in.

But now, she had realized—though he was the Crown Prince, he was also the child’s father. No reason to let him off the hook.

Seeing that his usually doting mother remained unmoved, Li Chen cried even harder. Yet Li Zhangye showed no impatience, gently patting the child’s back in an awkward attempt to soothe him. After a moment, Chang Lu, standing nearby, could bear it no longer and quickly had Shu Mo fetch Chen'er’s favorite toy.

Once the cloth tiger was in his hands, Chen'er gradually quieted, snuggling obediently against his father.

Li Zhangye took the handkerchief Chang Lu offered and wiped the child’s tears, his gaze then falling upon the dark blue bat-and-ruyi embroidered sachet at Chen'er’s waist.

His lips pressed together, and he lifted his head to give Pei Yun a deep look.

Chang Lu was observant. Though the Crown Prince said nothing, he immediately understood his master’s thoughts.

Just yesterday, the Second Princess had mentioned that the Crown Princess had embroidered a sachet for His Highness—yet she still hadn’t given it to him. Whether she had forgotten or was too embarrassed to pick the right time, no one knew.

Yet His Highness the Crown Prince wasn’t in a position to ask for it outright.

Chang Lu thought to himself, wasn’t this precisely the moment for servants like him to prove their worth?

First, he leaned down as if carefully examining the sachet worn by Li Chen, then remarked casually, "The Third Imperial Grandson’s sachet is truly exquisite. I wonder which palace embroiderer crafted it."

The sudden praise made Pei Yun’s eyes flicker, and the next moment, she heard him smoothly shift the topic.

"To this servant’s eyes, our Highness’s waist is also missing a sachet."