Chapter 35 “A Kiss Will Make It Better”

Chapter 35: "A Kiss Will Make It Better"

Even reborn, I've made little progress from my past self. Xie Yan easily provoked me, and I even struck him.

Though he's now lost in old dreams, mistaking me for the former Feng Jiuyue, and has shed his former sinister cruelty, it doesn't excuse my reckless act.

He is the esteemed Crown Prince, the future Son of Heaven, second only to the emperor. My actions just now were tantamount to trampling on imperial dignity.

I don't know what possessed me, why I committed such an absurd transgression. I only know I cannot bear Xie Yan touching me, nor do I want him to see me as my former self.

He called me "Xiao Qiu"—a name that embodies all my past humiliations, exposing my foolishness, ignorance, and ridiculousness to all, driving me to a fury that eclipsed all reason.

But who gave me the courage to strike him? None other than Xie Yan's indulgence, both overt and covert.

I had hit Xie Yan once before, long ago. He had a secret rendezvous with Jiang Qingling by the lake; we argued fiercely and parted acrimoniously. Much later, when he tried to force himself on me, I slapped him hard and called him a scoundrel.

I expected him to pounce and continue what he started, or to bite me savagely. Instead, he didn't retaliate. He merely fixed me with those deep phoenix eyes, making my skin crawl, yet ultimately, he didn't lay a finger on me.

Perhaps it was from that night onward that I began to see him as a paper tiger. No matter how imposing he appeared as the Crown Prince to others, as soon as I shed tears, he would let it go and subtly yield.

But none of this justifies my overstepping.

Fortunately, no one else was present today. Had there been, and had word gotten out, I would surely face severe punishment. Thinking of this, I silently resolved never to act so impulsively again.

Even if Xie Yan tries to touch me in the future, I must endure it, gritting my teeth and swallowing the bitterness, as if bitten by a dog.

I am no longer alone and helpless; I have the Qiu Mansion behind me. If I provoke imperial authority and am punished, the Qiu Mansion will inevitably suffer as well.

Everyone at the Qiu Mansion has been exceptionally kind to me. Qiu Yunqing even entrusted his life to me—how could I repay their kindness with betrayal? The most urgent task now is to awaken Xie Yan from the beautiful dream he has woven for himself.

He is deeply lost in his delusions, completely mistaking me for a substitute for his false emotions, sentimentally performing affection in front of me, moved by his own act.

I feel no sympathy, only resentment and hatred.

If he truly valued and cared for me so much, why did he use me to cause my father’s death back then?

Whenever I think of this, my heart hardens more than winter ice, and I can't help but look up at Xie Yan with anger.

He has always been exceptionally handsome, with skin as flawless as white jade. Now, a bright red handprint marks his right cheek, stark and ridiculous. He pays it no mind, instead lowering his gaze and focusing on kissing my palm.

Perhaps due to his foreign ancestry, Xie Yan’s eyelashes are longer and thicker than most, veiling his deep-set eyes.

His striking features appear even more pronounced because of his lean frame. If not for the kisses he keeps planting on my palm, one might mistake him for an exquisitely carved jade statue.

I forcefully withdrew my hand from Xie Yan’s grip, ignoring the look of loss on his face. Awkwardly, I hid both hands behind my back to prevent him from finding another opportunity to kiss them.

Xie Yan has always been someone who values face, yet now he doesn’t seem to care about the slap mark at all, not even bothering to address it.

But I care—not out of the same heartache I once felt, but out of fear that someone might see the mark on his face and bring trouble upon me. I worry even more that someone might hold me accountable and implicate the Qiu Mansion.

I could only bow and say to Xie Yan, "Your Highness, please wait here for a moment. Yun Qing will return shortly."

Xie Yan nodded reluctantly, sitting stiffly on the low stool before the bronze mirror, his posture erect as if following my command, yet his long fingers clung tightly to my sleeve.

Though he appears lean, his strength is like that of an ox—ten of me would hardly be enough to handle him. I had no choice but to turn back to him, my face showing displeasure.

His fingers gripped my robe tightly, but he avoided my gaze, instead looking at the patterns on the brocade quilt, clearly pretending ignorance. I had no choice but to coldly pry his fingers off, one by one, freeing my clothes from his grasp.

At this point, Xie Yan finally stopped pretending. He slowly turned to look at me, as if having achieved his goal, and enveloped my entire hand with his cool palm, refusing to let go.

Since he wouldn’t release me, there was truly nothing I could do.

I had intended to fetch a cloth to apply to the slap mark on his face, hoping to avoid anyone discovering my audacity. But now, I could do nothing but sit there staring dryly at Xie Yan, praying time would quickly erase the mark from his face. Yet after waiting for what felt like an eternity, it showed no signs of fading.

Xie Yan’s fair complexion made the mark stand out even more vividly, like a stain on precious porcelain.

I could only coldly say, my words laced with frustration, "Your Highness, when will you allow this commoner to leave?"

Seeing my obvious anger, Xie Yan glanced at me deeply before slowly releasing my hand.

It was nearly dusk, and the fading sunlight streamed through the window lattice, casting its glow on Xie Yan. The peacock patterns on his court robes seemed lifelike, the tips of his eyelashes gilded with a brilliant gold edge, and his sharp nose bridge starkly divided the light and shadow.

Half of him bathed in the residual light, resembling a compassionate jade Buddha; the other half hidden in shadow, like a redeemed evil spirit.

Though he sat there obediently, his expression even softened, an uneasy feeling stirred within me.

He seemed to be teetering between shattered reality and delusion. If I were to tear off this facade, the carefully concealed malicious deeds and unfulfilled hatred would likely devour me completely.

Xie Yan cannot accept the fact that Feng Jiuyue is dead. He vehemently rejects it, preferring to conceal his venomous nature and pretend to be clingy and docile rather than facing the cruel truth.

But I insist on making him see the harshest reality.

When I returned with the warm cloth, Xie Yan was staring blankly at the peach tree outside the window, lost in thought. As I entered, his eyes glued to me, and even his gray eyes seemed to hold a faint warmth.

"Your Highness, please apply this to your face yourself."

I respectfully offered the cloth to Xie Yan.

I thought my attitude was sufficiently respectful and that Xie Yan would take it, but he never reached for the cloth.

I waited and waited, growing increasingly impatient. When I looked up, I saw Xie Yan gazing intently at me, his expression serious and composed, though the tips of his ears were slightly red.

He averted his eyes and casually remarked, "I don’t know where to apply it."

So this was his game—clearly wanting me to do it for him. But I refused.

I slowly moved closer to Xie Yan and, under his awkward yet expectant gaze, pressed the cloth against his right cheek. I maliciously squeezed his face slightly out of shape and said coldly, "Right here, Your Highness. Apply it yourself."

I vividly remember how in the past, only Xie Yan could mold and manipulate me as he pleased. When did I ever have the audacity to defy him? Now, as I reflected on the moment I slightly distorted his face, a sense of malicious pleasure and vengeance surged within me.

Xie Yan’s face had initially held a glimmer of hope, but as my words settled, his eyes dimmed like extinguished lanterns. Still, he obediently began applying the cloth to his face.

As he tended to his cheek, he watched me with those beautiful eyes, his gaze burning and intense, like the greedy lick of a serpent’s tongue.

I felt extremely uncomfortable under his stare and didn’t want to engage with him further, so I turned my back to him.

"Xiao Qiu, it hurts a little."

Xie Yan’s voice came from behind me, igniting a nameless fury within. I turned around fiercely and said, "Your Highness, I’ve told you—my name is Qiu Yunqing, not Xiao Qiu."

But Xie Yan clearly wasn’t listening. He set down the cloth—the mark on his face had noticeably faded—yet he insisted it still hurt, adding, "You often kissed me before. Perhaps a kiss will make it better."

Yes, he was right. In the past, whenever we were together, I was almost always the one initiating kisses. Xie Yan only needed to wrap his arm around my waist when I clung to his neck, then kiss me back more fiercely.

Back then, I often felt disheartened, believing my advances were cheap and frivolous. I worried in my heart that Xie Yan saw me as some kind of disreputable person.

Because he never once said he liked me, let alone initiated a kiss—such moments were few and far between. My initiatives felt more like pleas, with caution and humility.

Even though all my firsts were given to Xie Yan, my excessive affection and enthusiastic advances made me taste such anxiety and unease.

I once thought Xie Yan disliked such intimacy. In my eyes, he was like an untouchable flower atop a high peak—something to be admired from afar but never tainted.

Every time he kissed me, his expression remained aloof, as if he had never invested any genuine emotion or entertained even a hint of tenderness.

But today, he suggested so blatantly, urging me to take the initiative to kiss him. So all along, he had been enjoying my eager attempts to please him, yet he refused to give me even the slightest affirmation in return.

Heh, Xie Yan, you're something else.

I don’t know why my emotions surged again. Those memories of loving yet never being loved in return twisted my features, my thoughts like a turbulent deep sea where I drifted, struggling to find a lifeline to grab onto.

My hatred rose like towering waves, crashing over me, leaving me desperate to shatter Xie Yan’s beautiful dream.

He made me suffer, he broke my heart—so I won’t let him off easily either. I want him to join me in hell.

“Your Highness,” I suddenly smiled at him with extreme sweetness, like a magnificently blooming rose.

I rose on my toes, pressed my lips close to his ear, and indeed watched as his earlobe flushed all the way to the tip.

My voice carried a tone I hadn't used in ages, yet my words and actions were impulsive and bizarre: “You and Xiao Qiu must have done everything, right? Then you must be very familiar with his body. Since you keep calling me Xiao Qiu, why not see for yourself whether I really am Xiao Qiu?”

The robe I wore today was filmy—pale spruce-colored, with a wide-open collar and cuffs woven with fragile flower buds. Simple in style and easy to remove, I undid the belt, and layer upon layer of the plain robe fell to the ground like drifting clouds.

I didn’t cover myself. Instead, I boldly looped both arms around Xie Yan’s neck, blew softly against his earlobe, and spoke in a voice sweet as honey yet sharp as a blade.

“Yun Qing has heard that the young master of the Feng family was exceptionally beautiful—a rare treasure. Your Highness, why not see for yourself—can Yun Qing’s body compare to your beloved Xiao Qiu?”

Author’s Note:

Revised the latter part. Sorry to trouble everyone to read it again! I was really out of it that day rushing for the update—please forgive me! Hugs and ten kisses for everyone!!!