Chapter 47: Pouncing and Kissing

Chapter 47: Pouncing for a Kiss

Xiao Chen looked at Ling Yehan before him, head bowed and shoulders slumped, a far cry from the troublemaker who had raised hell in the palace yesterday. Recalling the defiant words from the day before still made him feel stifled, and he couldn’t help but speak sharply:

"Lift your head. Weren’t you quite capable yesterday? Putting on a show by threatening to slit your throat—is this pitiful routine today also for my benefit?"

Ling Yehan scrambled up and knelt on the bed:

"I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have threatened you with such a desperate act."

Now that he was sober, the grievances filling his mind had dissipated. Only then did he realize how absurd his actions yesterday had been—and Xiao Chen had only given him ten strikes as punishment.

Xiao Chen stared at him but didn’t address his earlier words. Instead, he changed the subject:

"In your past life, a single sentence from Xu Jing was enough to make you believe I didn’t want to see you, and you promptly left the capital for Yongzhou. Did it never occur to you to come and ask me directly?"

A trace of self-mockery flashed across Ling Yehan’s face, his past cowardice laid bare. He rubbed his face with his hand:

"Because I was afraid. I was scared that if I entered the palace and faced you directly, even the slightest affection you might have had for me would vanish. I had no courage to face you, and I was even more afraid of seeing disgust in your eyes."

Xiao Chen let out a cold laugh:

"Xu Jing was merely the steward of your estate, not even one of my personal attendants. Your swift departure from the capital wasn’t just because you believed him—it was because his words echoed your own fears. Even if he hadn’t said anything, would you have stayed in the capital?"

Ling Yehan’s body tensed. It was true—the first thing he had wanted to do upon waking in his past life was to flee, to leave. Xu Jing’s words had merely given him a convenient excuse.

Xiao Chen’s gaze turned sharp:

"You dared to threaten to slit your throat yesterday just to force me to summon you to the palace. You said you were doing it for my benefit—you knew it would work on me. You’ve always known that, to me, you’re different from others. You knew it in this life, and you knew it in your past life. When you escaped and left the capital under the guise of following an imperial decree, didn’t you harbor even a sliver of hope? What you truly wanted was for me to recall you to the capital myself. Ling Yehan, in this life, you used death to threaten me; in your past life, you used your departure to threaten me."

Xiao Chen’s words were like fiery arrows, piercing through the deepest, most hidden corners of Ling Yehan’s heart—corners so dark that even he himself avoided looking at them. It felt as if a veil of shame had been violently torn away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before the other. He didn’t dare lift his head or meet those eyes that seemed to see through everything. His face flushed red, from his ears down to his neck. For the first time, he felt utterly wretched, unable to utter a single word in his defense—because he had indeed thought that way.

That morning, his first thought had been to leave. He had even fantasized that if he left voluntarily, perhaps Xiao Chen would remember his virtues and recall him to the capital. The reason Xu Jing’s words had resonated so deeply was not only that they gave him an excuse to leave but also that they shattered his illusions, making him realize that even without his departure, Xiao Chen no longer wished to see him.

Ling Yehan’s hands clenched tightly around the quilt beside him. Just as he felt the urge to flee again from the shame, a warm hand gently rested on his head, giving it a soft rub. Though the touch was light, Ling Yehan felt like crying. A somewhat resigned voice sounded above him:

"Like a little fool, going back and forth, just to prove that I care about you."

When Xiao Chen had first learned the truth the night before, he had been angry—angry at Ling Yehan’s evasion, his cowardice, his gullibility. But Zhang Fu’s words had later enlightened him: Ling Yehan had never truly moved past being abandoned by his family as a child. As he grew older, he had learned to conceal and hide his pain. After that, the person he cared about most was Xiao Chen, which was why he feared being abandoned by him.

A tear fell onto the bright yellow bedding, and Ling Yehan’s shoulders trembled slightly.

Xiao Chen looked at the person before him, who resembled a puppy that had done wrong—afraid of being abandoned, it would run away first, all the while hoping to be brought back. The more he looked, the softer his heart felt. It seemed the foolish things Ling Yehan had done in his past life had already faded away. What was there to hold against him? He sighed and ruffled Ling Yehan’s hair again:

"That life is over. Let what happened in the past remain in the past."

Ling Yehan could no longer hold back. He leaned forward and embraced the person before him, careful to avoid his stomach. He knew how much tolerance Xiao Chen had shown him. Letting go of all restraint, he clung to him almost instinctively, burying his face in the crook of his neck:

"Brother, believe me now, okay? It’s not out of guilt or compensation—I just really, really, really like you. I want to stay by your side, to always be with you."

The weight on him was heavy, and his neck was damp with what he assumed were Ling Yehan’s tears or perhaps even snot. Xiao Chen wrinkled his nose in slight disgust and shifted away slightly. At that, the person in his arms stiffened and sniffled:

"If you get snot on me, it’s another ten strikes."

Ling Yehan immediately wiped his tears and snot with his sleeve and tried to cling to him again. Xiao Chen looked at the sleeve as if it were something horrifying, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him away. But Ling Yehan, like a stubborn leech, quickly stripped off his sleeping robe and clung to him again. This time, the leech was not only persistent but also bold—he wrapped his arms around Xiao Chen’s noticeably thicker waist, closed his eyes, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. The kiss was clumsy, their noses bumping, but he refused to let go, like a puppy craving meat.

Xiao Chen slowly closed his eyes. Where their lips met, a burning heat spread. Ling Yehan’s eyelashes brushed against his cheek, and the awkward kiss stirred something in him, making him lean in slightly to deepen it. Ling Yehan’s hands wandered slowly over his body before settling on his waist. Waves of heat surged, overlapping and spreading like ripples through both of them.

Ling Yehan’s hand slipped into the other’s robe, his thumb gently tracing the fierce-looking scar on Xiao Chen’s lower back. Xiao Chen’s face flushed, his breathing grew rapid. Ling Yehan held him as they lay down slowly, his dark hair spilling across the bright yellow bedding. He nestled close, burying his face in the crook of Xiao Chen’s neck, his lips lightly tracing the shell of his ear.

"Mm..."

A soft moan escaped Xiao Chen, his body trembling slightly. Ling Yehan suddenly laughed:

"Brother, you’re ticklish here."

Xiao Chen felt embarrassed and raised a hand to push away the clingy pest. But like stubborn adhesive, Ling Yehan was hard to shake off—especially since he had been waiting for this for two lifetimes. He wrapped his legs around Xiao Chen’s, one hand protecting his stomach, the other around his waist, and pressed close again. Mindful of Xiao Chen’s condition, he didn’t dare cause more trouble but simply buried his face in the other’s neck. Perhaps because he had slept through the night, the redness in his eyes from yesterday had faded, and his tears made them look even more watery now.

He stared at the person in his arms with those watery eyes, his eyelashes fluttering close to Xiao Chen’s face. It was the first time he had seen Xiao Chen with flushed cheeks, eyes closed, breathing heavily. The sight stirred something in him, like countless ants crawling over his heart. Gathering his courage, he asked a rather shameless question:

"Brother, do you like it?"

Xiao Chen opened his eyes slightly. The haze of desire had not yet fully faded from his gaze, but the dignity of his status remained undiminished as he raised an eyebrow:

"The Marquis of Jingbian has only this little skill in serving me, and you expect me to like it?"

Ling Yehan, meeting those phoenix eyes, actually felt a bit insecure. He really wasn’t very experienced and didn’t know if his kissing pleased Xiao Chen. If he wanted to make Xiao Chen feel good in the future, he would have to learn a few more tricks. But having been in power for ten years, he refused to show weakness. Though he felt inwardly nervous, he put on a brave face and retorted stubbornly:

"You moaned earlier."

"Ah—"

Ling Yehan was kicked to the edge of the bed by Xiao Chen.

After a while, Xiao Chen called the attendants outside to help him wash and dress. Zhang Fu, seeing the disheveled bedding and the emperor’s rumpled robes, pretended not to notice and calmly assisted with the morning routine. Ling Yehan, clutching his stomach, got out of bed himself. Normally, he would have gone to the side chamber to wash up, but today he didn’t feel like leaving. At most, he’d get kicked again—he rubbed his stomach; it wasn’t that painful anyway.

In the end, Ling Yehan was dragged out by the imperial guards while Xiao Chen was bathing.

Xiao Chen rarely slept in, but today breakfast in the Zichen Palace wasn’t served until mid-morning. Ling Yehan, now cleaned up, sat down beside Xiao Chen. So overjoyed that he forgot himself, he plopped down heavily, causing a sharp, burning pain in his recently medicated backside. Xiao Chen, unusually, was wearing a vermilion, gold-embroidered casual robe with wide sleeves. He hadn’t fastened a jade belt or worn a crown; his long hair was tied up simply with a dark jade hairpin. As he held a teacup, he glanced sideways at Ling Yehan’s discomfort and couldn’t help but smirk:

"Serves you right."

Zhang Fu, ever perceptive, immediately had a thick cushion brought for Ling Yehan to sit on.

After breakfast, the imperial physician came to check Xiao Chen’s pulse. Since Xiao Chen needed to rest in bed for the next couple of days, he reclined on the soft couch. Only after Xu Yuanli finished the examination did Xiao Chen speak leisurely:

"Go check the Marquis of Jingbian as well. After all his recent antics, he needs some proper conditioning. Don’t hold back on the medication—our Marquis of Jingbian can handle bitterness."

Ling Yehan...

Xu Yuanli immediately understood: it seemed they would need to add more lingzhi to the prescription.

After the examination, Xiao Chen dismissed the attendants and turned to Ling Yehan:

"Will you handle the matters in your estate yourself, or shall I take care of them for you?"

Ling Yehan thought of Xu Jing, his emotions complex. Xu Jing had been one of his original four personal guards. The other three had died, leaving only Xu Jing, who had saved him several times on the battlefield and lost an arm in the process. That was why Ling Yehan had made him the steward when he left the military to return home. Even now, he couldn’t understand why Xu Jing had deceived him. What good did it do him?

Xiao Chen knew Ling Yehan’s nature well—he was stubborn but soft-hearted. Confrontation never worked with him, but if someone showed him kindness, even a small gesture, he would remember it for life. Especially since Xu Jing had saved his life and sacrificed an arm for him. Seeing Ling Yehan’s hesitation, Xiao Chen said:

"I will have Xu Jing brought to the palace for me to deal with personally. You need not concern yourself with this."

Ling Yehan looked up abruptly. When he first learned the truth, it was impossible not to resent Xu Jing. If not for him, his past life with Xiao Chen might not have ended so tragically—Xiao Chen dying with regrets, himself living a life of remorse. But now, reflecting on it, he realized he was not entirely blameless either. He tugged at Xiao Chen’s sleeve:

"In the past life, he did interfere, but I was not innocent either. Brother, spare his life—consider it repaying the debt for saving me on the battlefield."

Xu Jing may have tied the knot, but it was Ling Yehan who had refused to untie it for a lifetime. He couldn’t in good conscience blame everything on Xu Jing.

Xiao Chen nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about your past life. How did you die?"