Chapter 50: Bath

Chapter 50 The Bath

Xiao Chen felt as if a nimble little snake was flicking its forked tongue near his ear, sending waves of tingling itchiness. His breathing unconsciously quickened, and he instinctively tried to push Ling Yehan away. However, the arm wrapped around his waist was like an iron clamp, unyielding to his push. Ling Yehan gently bit down, sending that tingling sensation coursing through his entire body, making Xiao Chen feel weak all over. A surge of searing heat rose within him, his cheeks flushed, and his breathing became unsteady:

"How dare you?"

This stern rebuke lacked its usual sharpness, instead carrying a tone of flustered irritation. Ling Yehan pressed his lips against Xiao Chen’s earlobe, then buried his face in the crook of his neck for a moment before looking up again, his eyes and brows showing the pride of someone who knows they're favored:

"Then punish me, Your Majesty."

Xiao Chen, half-embraced by him, felt his neck itching from the nuzzling. Seeing Ling Yehan’s lifted brows and glistening eyes, he was suddenly reminded of that reckless night. Though Ling Yehan had not been in his right mind then, his eyes had been just as bright, utterly focused on Xiao Chen’s reflection. He could even see his own naked form reflected in those gleaming eyes. Thoughts surged uncontrollably, and an inexplicable feeling began to change within his body, making him uneasy:

"You reek of sweat and are still crowding close to me. Zhang Fu, prepare the water. I wish to bathe."

With that, Xiao Chen pushed Ling Yehan’s supporting arm away with some force, stumbling slightly as he did. Ling Yehan, not daring to resist, quickly loosened his grip to steady him, only to be pushed away again. Zhang Fu, bowing his head, supported Xiao Chen by the elbow. Ling Yehan, like sticky toffee, followed closely behind. Xiao Chen narrowed his eyes sharply:

"Stop following me. Are those stacks of memorials waiting for me to read?"

Though Ling Yehan dearly wanted to follow, the sight of Xiao Chen’s reddened ears made him hesitate to push his luck at this sensitive moment. Rarely this obedient, he replied:

"Yes, I’ll read the memorials right away. Ge, be careful when you bathe."

The rear hall of the Zichen Palace connected to a hot spring pool via an indoor corridor, reserved for the emperor’s use. The pool was lined with green jade, with bronze cranes at each corner spouting warm spring water. The shimmering ripples glittered under the light. This pool had been built by an emperor of the previous dynasty over five years, using some method to channel fresh flowing water from outside the palace, maintaining a perfect temperature.

Behind the surrounding screens, palace attendants were already standing ready with fine gauze robes, cotton towels, and cloisonné incense burners filled with medicinal herbs prepared by the imperial physicians.

Xiao Chen’s face was flushed. As Zhang Fu was about to approach with two young attendants to assist, he was waved away:

"Leave the things and wait outside."

Zhang Fu hesitated briefly—the pool was slippery, after all—but the emperor’s will could not be defied. After carefully inspecting the nearby non-slip rugs to ensure they were secure, he led the attendants out.

Xiao Chen’s cheeks were still flushed. He closed his eyes briefly to compose himself before slowly removing his garments one by one. Mist rose from the pool, and the warm water gradually covered his feet, calves, and knees. The faint ink-colored gauze robe followed his steps, sinking inch by inch into the water, drifting with the ripples like blooming dark lotuses.

Leaning back against the pool’s edge, Xiao Chen felt the wet gauze cling to his abdomen, outlining its rounded curve. He forced himself to calm down, closing his eyes and enduring, hoping that, as when he was carrying Lín'ér in his previous life, this tormenting sensation would naturally fade.

But now, the restlessness did not ease in the slightest. Instead, it coiled around him like a spirit snake, refusing to let go. The tingling in his ear seemed to linger, itchy and numb, while the agitated heat spread rampantly in his heart like wild weeds.

It stirred a hidden corner of his heart, awakening an expectation of release. The scorching sensation engulfed him, and his reason wavered precariously.

"Ah..."

His heart pounded like a drum. He tilted his head back slightly, his cheeks burning hot, with even his ears and neck tinged a rosy red. Across both his lives, noble and refined as Xiao Chen was, he had never done such a thing.

The sound that escaped him instantly drowned him in shame, self-loathing, and various intense emotions.

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Outside, Ling Yehan did not dare sit directly on the imperial throne. Instead, he moved a small table beside it and began reading the stack of memorials. Without exception, they were all impeachments against him. He examined them carefully—the charges were numerous: disregarding laws, arrogance and tyranny, meting out private punishments in court, and more, totaling over ten counts. Moreover, these officials, likely bored at home with nowhere to channel their talents, had poured all their energy into these memorials, writing at great length. If Ling Yehan didn’t know the impeachment was about himself, he would have thought the target was some utterly wicked villain.

He had always disliked such long-winded texts. Propping his forehead, he resisted the urge to toss the memorials away and kept reading. Suddenly, he came across a different one—a memorial from Cheng Baobao.

Amid the pile of eloquently worded petitions, this one stood out for its simplicity, yet it was sincere in tone, every sentence pleading on his behalf, terrified the emperor would execute him.

Just as he finished reading, he noticed Zhang Fu’s figure pacing worriedly near the corridor. He immediately stood up, thinking Xiao Chen had finished bathing. But when he approached, he saw Zhang Fu pacing anxiously:

"Eunuch Zhang Fu? Why aren’t you inside attending?"

Zhang Fu turned abruptly. He was truly worried about the emperor being alone inside, but even with a hundred times the courage, he wouldn’t dare defy the imperial decree to enter and serve. In the Zichen Palace, only Ling Yehan dared to go against the emperor’s wishes. That was why he had deliberately lingered where Ling Yehan could see him from behind the screen. Hearing Ling Yehan’s question, he bowed slightly and replied with a troubled expression:

"His Majesty sent us servants away."

Ling Yehan was taken aback: "There’s no one attending inside?"

Zhang Fu shook his head. Sure enough, Ling Yehan’s face showed concern. The poolside was slippery—what if the emperor slipped and fell?

"I’ll go check. You wait outside."

"Yes," Zhang Fu nodded repeatedly in agreement.

There were three layers of gauze curtains from the screen to the pool. Ling Yehan moved quietly, and with each curtain he lifted, the steam grew denser. Faint, delicate sounds reached his ears.

Xiao Chen’s eyes were half-closed, misty with moisture, the corners flushed red. A sheen of moisture dotted his forehead, whether from sweat or the steam was unclear.

"Hmm... Ah..."

As that peak of sensation drew near, a soft sound escaped his lips. He didn't hear at all the approaching footsteps behind him. Finally, his body tensed before suddenly relaxing, all strength seeming to seep away as he slumped weakly sideways. When he opened his eyes, the desire in them had not fully faded.

Ling Yehan gently lifted the last gauze curtain and saw the figure’s back, ink-black hair spilling down, the gauze robe at the shoulders soaked and clinging to his skin. The next moment, he saw the figure sliding sideways. He rushed forward in two steps, exclaiming:

"Brother!"

Startled, Xiao Chen’s already unsettled chest heaved violently. For the first time, he felt flustered and embarrassed. The next instant, a pair of warm, dry hands rested on his shoulders.

Thinking Xiao Chen had fainted from the steam, Ling Yehan didn’t hesitate—he jumped into the water to carry him out. Xiao Chen felt his vision blur, his shame and anger hadn't even had time to surface before being splashed in the face by this fool’s abrupt entry.

Ling Yehan quickly wrapped his arms around the person in the water. Seeing his flushed face, he grew even more convinced that he had been overwhelmed by the long bath:

"Brother, are you dizzy? Why didn’t you call for help? I’ll carry you out."

Hearing his rapid-fire questions, Xiao Chen simply nodded, closing his eyes as if to escape.

Ling Yehan’s arms encircled his legs and waist. Perhaps from the long soak, Xiao Chen’s skin from neck to collarbone was flushed. The pale smoke-gray gauze robe, soaked through, clung to his body, making the skin beneath faintly visible. The rounded curve of his abdomen was outlined even more prominently. Ling Yehan felt his composure waver just from a glance. Battling down his emotions, he climbed the steps steadily and laid Xiao Chen on a plush divan spread with cotton towels, then called for the attendants outside to assist.

Xiao Chen had no desire to open his eyes and see this troublesome fellow. But Ling Yehan, seeing his closed eyes, grew even more worried. He noticed Xiao Chen’s breathing was somewhat rapid:

"Zhang Fu, call for the imperial physician!"

Xiao Chen had no choice but to open his eyes: "Why are you yelling?"

Ling Yehan... "I was afraid the steam from the long bath made you unwell."

Zhang Fu had already led the attendants in, carrying clean towels and clothes. Ling Yehan reached out to remove the wet gauze robe clinging to Xiao Chen, but his hand was swatted away. Whenever Ling Yehan drew near, Xiao Chen’s mind became distracted:

"Go out and read the memorials. Zhang Fu will attend to me here."

But Ling Yehan was not as easily dismissed as before. Since learning that Xiao Chen held feelings for him, Ling Yehan dreamed of clinging to him every moment. Now, he showed no intention of letting go. Instead, he clung stubbornly, wrapping his arms around Xiao Chen’s waist and drawing close to him, speaking with a tone full of complaint:

"Why won’t you let me attend to you?"

They already shared a bed—why couldn’t he help change his clothes?

Ling Yehan’s proximity made Xiao Chen’s breathing unsteady. He shoved Ling Yehan's head aside disdainfully.

"You're so clumsy - what makes you think you can take care of anyone?"

Ling Yehan shot back:

"What do you mean I'm clumsy? Just rest, I'm quite good at taking care of people. These wet robes need to be changed, or you'll catch a cold!"

Brushing aside Xiao Chen's objections, he went ahead and untied the damp silk robe, then took the clean night clothes handed to him by Zhang Fu. Just as he was about to help Xiao Chen back to rest, Xiao Chen stumbled weakly while trying to stand, startling Ling Yehan, who immediately tightened his embrace and, not daring to let him walk, simply picked him up. Unwilling to face his own helpless state, Xiao Chen closed his eyes and nestled silently in the other’s arms.

Once on the bed, Xiao Chen said he was tired. Ling Yehan didn’t suspect anything and didn’t dare light the lamp to read documents. After a quick wash, he climbed to the inner side of the bed and lay down.

Zhang Fu snuffed the candle, and the inner chamber immediately grew dim. Xiao Chen had been sleeping facing inward, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he could almost feel Ling Yehan’s breath. He turned over, supporting his waist. Ling Yehan watched the figure with his back turned, feeling hurt but afraid to say anything, and silently scooted closer until Xiao Chen could even feel the warmth of his body. The lingering heat surged up again, and Xiao Chen irritably said:

"It's hot. Get over there."

Ling Yehan froze, suddenly recalling that the imperial physician had mentioned that pregnant individuals tend to feel overheated. Reluctantly, he replied:

"Fine."

Xiao Chen listened to the constant rustling and shifting behind him and grew even more annoyed:

"Stop squirming around."

Ling Yehan, who was still shifting...

"Brother, how am I supposed to move over without moving? I can’t fly."

"Talking back now?"

"I didn't mean to."

Ling Yehan pressed himself against the headboard, tucked in his limbs, and gazed at the figure with its back to him before speaking again:

"Brother, if you’re hot, I'll have someone get you a lighter blanket."

Although Xiao Chen was already covered with a light silk brocade quilt, it was late summer, and the imperial physician had forbidden the use of ice. Given that Xiao Chen was pregnant, he must indeed be unbearably warm.

Xiao Chen bundled the quilt around himself:

"No need. Just sleep. No more talking."

Ling Yehan nodded to himself behind Xiao Chen's back, not daring to make another sound. The inner chamber finally fell into silence, but Xiao Chen still felt overheated. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

As the night deepened, the chamber grew increasingly stuffy and humid. Xiao Chen’s breathing became labored, his collar loosened to reveal a flushed chest. A heated body pressed against him from behind.

His earlobe seemed to be taken into someone’s mouth, a tingling sensation instantly sweeping through his body, making him go weak. The person by his neck wasn't about to stop; warm, dry hands pressed against his back, sliding slowly down his waist to his rounded abdomen, as if the child within was stirring along.

The heat spread throughout his body, tightening every muscle. The discomfort below grew increasingly unbearable, no longer satisfied with the gentle touch. His body writhed slightly.

The person behind him pressed against his cheek, planting soft kisses on his ear and face, their breath warming his ear. The voice was unmistakably that of the man beside him:

"Brother, are you uncomfortable?"

As he spoke, his hand slid gently.

Xiao Chen wanted to push his hand away but found himself unable to move.

"Don't mess around…"

Xiao Chen’s legs trembled slightly, the scorching heat enveloping him. The moment release came, his eyes snapped open.

Everything seemed to spin before him. Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, casting a hazy glow on the gauze curtains.

Ling Yehan, awakened by the noise, saw Xiao Chen covered in sweat and breathing heavily. He sat up groggily and asked:

"Brother? What’s wrong?"